Hi everyone, here is the index for The Golden Ratio!
The Straw hats are tricked into a massive dept inside the biggest entertainment city in the world. To make sure they come back to pay, they have to leave Zoro as a prisoner on the island. Zoro is confident his crew will return to save him, but what he doesn't know is that his captor has bigger plans for him.
(This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg who also did the drawing for this post)
Your art would be perfect for pro-obesity propaganda posters. And i feel like you are kinky enough to come up with a nice manipulative slogan for it too lol
It actually used to be a thing when the US government promoted low fat high sugar high carb diet, cus of the sugar lobby and the fact that they went through the great depression. I'm not making one though 🙂↔️
I see Rayleigh seated in the grass, enjoying the early morning breeze.
Taking my rightful seat by his side, my hands entwine with his.
“What’s the plan then?” he asked.
We both looked down at the crumbling town as I replied with a chuckle, “Well, at least get our house back. I'm dying for some private time, you know.”
“That works. But I mean after that,” Ray added.
I look at him puzzled, but reply with, ”Back to normal, Ray. We keep Alph from bombarding visitors with questions, help Mineral and Charlie with the kids, and we kick Veneham’s butt in the next festival.”
He looked back at the city; the towers of the newly renovated buildings rose high into the sky, and the roads buzzed with life as visitors returned.
Ray lets out a sigh and waves himself from the heat. The noon sun shines right over us as he leans on the grass. The shine of sweat and the first strikes of grey hair make him look like a finely preserved wine.
“Of course, Bell. But after that. When the kids grow up, and the town no longer needs us for everything, then what?” he said.
I grab his face with my other hand and let the orange hue of sundown adorn his features as I reply, “Even when nobody else is there to need us, we will always have one another.”
He carefully pushes his fragile body up again. The sunset makes his eyes shine, revealing the pale blue film that covers them, while his silver hair blows with the wind.
His wrinkled hands grip mine as hard as they can. He looked at me with a pained expression, my heart pumped in my chest, and my breath became short and agitated.
With a gentle smile and a raspy voice, he said, “You know what I mean-”
The last rays of sunlight begin to fade in the distance as he coughs and adds.
“When all is said and done.”
“What will you do?”
“When I'm gone.”
Wait, what are you saying? When you are-
The night sky is filled with stars. I turn to my right, and nobody sits beside me. The metropolis that stretches in front of me, as far as the eye can reach, glows with life, but my chest aches with anguish.
The ground below me opens up slowly. I can feel myself sinking, falling, burning up. I should do something, but what's the point? I'm nothing without him.
When I open my eyes, I'm in bed again. Rayleigh is soundly sleeping beside me, and tears run down my cheeks as I wrap my arms around him.
I'm tired of waiting for things to go back to normal. I will reclaim my life and make sure it stays that way, this time forever.
That means taking the reins of my team, once and for all.
“Where do you want me to put these?” Veneham said with a smug grin.
“Just put it by the-“
“Oh, I know, just besides yesterday's order. Come on, everyone,” he replied happily.
He comes with a team of seven of his demons carrying a literal hill of red brick, curated wood, and nails for us to use.
They have moved fast lately, curing everyone in town, producing more material we can use, and even rebuilding the old wood mill to increase production. Mineral is not far behind; his team rebuilds the entire farmland, now focusing on treating the animals for winter.
The constant rewards and acclaim from the townspeople have an obvious effect. Veneham’s muscular body lost most of its definition, leaving a beginner's belly to flash from beneath his vest; his chest starts to flesh out, and his arms thicken with a layer of fat. The rest of the demons in town might not be growing at his rate, but by all hell, they try.
And while his team got all the love from the humans, mine was even more isolated. They start to see their appetites grow with Rothwell's delectable food, so they try to, ugh, diet.
Just the thought makes me sick.
Of course, the humans saw it as an insult, which only increased their mistrust of them. It’s almost as if they thought that the enmity of the townsfolk would help them to keep their waistline under control. But nothing changes their slow waddle into fatass territory.
My team felt more convinced they could overeat as long as they didn't eat more than the colosseum champion. After all, he was so puny compared to the rest of us; the power of perception is incredible.
To say their morale was on the floor would be an understatement. I don't have to turn around to feel their dead stares as Veneham flaunts his team’s strength.
“Oof, do you guys need a hand? You could use a break for some snack, everyone here looks rather famished,” A demon that looked like a minotaur descendant, with grey fur and thick horns, said.
His friends laughed while putting down their materials
“Sip it, Fitz, we can do just as good as you and the horde of fatasses,” Hagen shouted from afar.
“Prove it then, I can carry twice as much as you, right here, right now,” Fitz said with a confident smile.
“I’ll show you who's the boss!” Hagen growled.
He was ready to pounce when Alcor got in the way.
“You need a repeat of last week? We are still working to repair the damage you caused when you tried to show them who is boss. Stay still!” he said.
“We are thankful for your help, darling, but we shall pass the opportunity this time,” Alcor shouted back to Fitz.
They laugh, while Veneham got closer to me.
“Are you sure you can manage this? they don't seem to be advancing that much. It's not your fault they can't keep up with the winner of the eating challenge,” Veneham said teasingly.
“You didn't win shit, you ran off before we could finish,” I replied.
“Says the guy without a single ribbon,” he teased back.
“This year I will sweep the floor with you,” I said
“You wish, I can eat three times your weight in food,” he replied
The rest of the site stayed deadly still as we argued.
“Fine, suit yourself with the work. Come on, guys, I invite the rounds tonight!” Veneham said, followed by the cheers of his team.
“Okay, that does it, get here, everyone!” I shouted.
Everyone looks at me, studying my next move as they make a circle around me.
“Aren't you tired of being everyone's laughing stock? To see every other demon in this town get the cheers of the crowd? I thought that we were a proud and eager kind, ready to take what was rightfully ours! We were all summoned on equal footing, so why can't we all do just as well as them?” I shouted.
“We are the proud spawn of hell, Belfort. We just doubt earthling’s methods,” Alioth said, standing strong in front of me.
“You haven’t even given them a chance. You all resign to victory the moment you set foot in here,” I replied.
“You can’t expect us to just go down the route of hedonism and forget years of hard work. Demons strive for strength, not whatever you and your friends are doing here,” Zigurd added.
“Because you all are the epitome of strength, uh? Every demon in Mineral or Veneham’s camps could snap you all in half,” I replied.
Zigurd was fuming at the comment. I flash him a grin and continue, “Everyone in Rothwell strives for strength; this realm requires it. Those humans with their short lives and fragile bodies have survived Djinn attacks, plagues, starvation, fires, and a flash flood. None of you has the right to look down on them.”
“I heard a tale of heroism like that from the humans. A great evil attacked them in their time of joy, and Veneham came to defeat him, with a single hand and fried vegetables.” Alcor said.
“Veneham wasn't alone that day. We subdue a hell bison, put out the fire, and help that egotistical asshole to finish the job with the Djinn. Or you think he ended up that fragile and flimsy out of his own volition?” I said.
“Wait, you don't mean-” Hagen asked.
“He was just as big as us, well, smaller than me, of course. We all followed the same training regimen. Sol, for any of you still doubting it, this is what strength looks like,” I said proudly.
The crowd of demons still hesitates, muttering amongst themselves.
With the wave of my hand, the water from the river gushes out like a geyser. It flies into the sky and comes raining down on the entire worksite. Added a snap of my fingers, and all the water drops freeze in place midair.
“Any doubts? rookies,” I said.
Alioth's eyes were wide open, but quickly relaxed as the demons around asked how I was able to do such a thing.
“Unlike some of you, I don't reject the nature of our kind. We are demons for fuck sake. We should eat, fuck, and laze around as much as we please. And our bodies react to those cravings, the more we say yes to ourselves, the stronger our skills become!” I said.
Most of them looked marveled at such a revelation. But there are also some hesitant gazes.
“I know some of you feel like this is a hindrance,” I said, patting my belly.
Some look at their softening bodies with disdain, others with indifference, and a few with the same longing eyes I had.
“But let me ask you, don't you feel a thrill run down your spine when you defeat someone in a bloody battle? And felt a rush, like you could defeat anyone in your way with a blow?” I asked.
They agree, some of them sharing their experience in battle.
“In hell, we dumbly focus on one sin for power; it was wrath, pride, or even envy. Here, we can absorb the power from all the other sins: lust, gluttony, greed, and sloth.”
They whisper amongst each other, glances being taken of my form.
“What about wrath?” a demon with red feathers on his skin and a lion's head said.
“You can only fight so many times before it gets boring. Compare that to the torrential loads of food Rothwell has?” I said.
“You can waste away with diets and sparing, let every other demon here to take your spot and be sent back to hell. Or follow your deepest desires and become a force to be reckoned with!” I added.
Some demons hesitated; I could see in the corner of my eye a couple stepping aside. Zigurd was about to leave, but Alioth gave him a stern look, and the soldier stayed in place.
“For starters, we have to lay some ground rules,” I said.
Rule number. 1:
You will help humans with anything they need.
And if they give an offering, you must accept it no matter what.
“Thanks for your help, dear. I couldn’t carry all of my husband’s groceries without some help. You know what, I have some scones here that I'm sure you'll love,” an old lady said.
“We just had lunch-” Hagen said, looking at his overstretched middle.
The humans gave us everything they had after the flood, their own food and work as a sign of gratitude. Take it with pride, and it is a sign of respect. If you lack the fortitude to accept them, then you are weaker than the other demons in town, even less than the other humans visiting the area.
“But how can I say no to it?” he added with a sigh.
“That’s the spirit, sweetie, you know what I will send you back with a cake I did last night, you deserve it,” she replied.
Rule number. 2:
You will make each other accountable.
“I can’t stomach another bite,” Zigurd said.
“Oh come on, you haven’t had enough buzz, Zig,” the owner of the inn said, offering a barrel of beer.
“Why would I drink a full barrel?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Who drinks less than that?” One of Mineral’s teammates said, before grabbing a barrel himself and chugging.
“What are you waiting for, soldier? If I can stomach it, so can you,” Alitoh said.
The giant demon grabbed a barrel himself and balanced it over his head, drinking in quick, desperate gulps. His stomach pushes forward, inching over his lap with each gulp. Zigurd looks in awe as the general finishes, throws the barrel aside, and belches unfazed.
Zigurd grimaced, his stomach grumbling under the assault of food, but took the barrel and gave a strained smile at the inn owner.
The tavern cheer as they gulp, with other patrons offering to buy them more for their enthusiasm.
Rule number. 3:
You will use your demon skills as much as you-
“Wait, what if we don't have demon skills awakened then?” a tall demon with the sides of his head shaved, with white and black feathers, said.
“Good question, how many of you are still unable to use your demon skills?” I asked.
Some raised their hands, but I imagine there is more to it than meets the eye.
“Did you find your skill here?” another demon asked.
“No, I awaken my skill back in Samoa. Voyaging around the Pacific was what my body needed to awaken this power, but it wasn't until Rothweel that I realized it. So, for any of you who haven't awakened your demon skills. Meet me up in private, and I’ll ensure to awaken your power!” I shouted.
The horde of demons resonated with that more, shouting and howling at the top of their lungs.
“For the rest of you, I want to see those skills at work starting today,” I added.
Of course, I cannot let them work without improving myself. The same night I had that nightmare, I made arrangements with Ray.
We waited until everyone went to bed after dinner. Once the coast was clear, I led him deep into the woods, right by a clearing with a wide pond.
“Okay, Mr. Mystery, what is the surprise you have for me?” Rayleigh said.
“Oh, you will like it, don't worry,” I replied.
I unveil a four-level trolley filled with treats, courtesy of Zackary, and Ray just gasps in delight.
“I know we haven't had that much time for ourselves lately, but we can't skip on training any further I said, stepping closer to him.
“Oh, I didn't imagine you wanted to explore the woods while we trained,” he said, shrinking the gap between our bodies.
“I hope you don't mind?” I said with a grin.
“It's oddly exciting, actually. Now get this party started, I could do with some dessert to tide me over after that walk,” He said.
He fell to the soft ground with a loud thud. My tongue tastes his skin from his belly button all the way to his double chin, leaving a bite in the tender flesh.
Both our dicks throb hidden under mountains of fat, with every touch and jiggle stimulating them. Sex at this size is like nothing else. Even as we walked here, I could feel my dick spew pre in excitement, but now I can feel the constant flow of liquid as we bounce off each other.
My hands grabbed the fold that spread under his moobs, teasing his expanding nipples until they were engorged. My hands stretched to feed him a slice of berry cake while my mouth was busy suckling on his ample breast.
He takes a handful of chicken and shoves it in my mouth while rubbing my sides. And I moan over the taste of the juicy meat.
He feeds me mashed potatoes, and I bite his neck.
I feed him steak, and he teases my tip.
He melts under my touch as I lie on top of him, my body covering him perfectly.
“We are perfectly sized for each other,” I said between mouthfuls of buttered veggies.
“Bell, feed me more. I'm so full…But I still need more,” he said, his eyes filled with desire.
“You are my perfect half, Ray. I will make sure we both become unstoppable,” I said.
A current of power rushes through me; I can feel the pond beside us as an extension of me, just like that day. I follow my gut, and with a wave of my hand, I call forth the water.
The water tendrils rose slowly, they took the shape of my hands, massaging Ray’s body and running their fingers over his skin like a current.
“This is new,” he said eagerly.
“And it's only the beginning, darling,” I said with a grin.
The tentacles move Ray around, hanging him over the floor in all fours. His belly drags across the floor, and his tits jiggle with the sudden movement, but all I hear are his needy whimpers.
“Come on, man, I need it. " It's been too long,” Ray said.
My belly flopped on top of his back like a shelf, and I started to maneuver to get my dick inside. At this point, we struggle to find that position where we can connect, but as our bodies crash, our excitement only grows. My belly engulfs his back fat, but I can feel it moving like the waves in the sea under all my flesh.
Finally, my dick feels his hole, and I can feel it pulse as I enter him inch by inch.
His moans flood the forest around us, and I get the water to push a batch of scones to his face. Like a pig in his trough, he starts to eat mindlessly. Fuck, I love to see him like this.
I can feel the jiggle of his body and the tenderness of his skin under the water’s touch, the fingers entering him and the ones teasing his buried cock.
As I pound him, the same group of hands teased me; they pinched my nipples and shook my gut while handfuls of turkey entered my mouth. The heat inside us grows as I explore more of his heft with one hand and feed him with the other.
I continue to rock back and forth, feeling our worlds collide, every roll and fold rubbing against each other until we blow. But I crave more, oh so much more of it.
The food in the trolley banishes from our mouths faster than I anticipated, and soon we are both panting from our stuffed guts. A chorus of whimpers, moans, and belches echoes through the desolated woods.
But my belly still rumbles greedily, knowing the crown jewel still awaits us in the trolley. A mix of buttermilk, spices, cream, rum, and fruit, all thickened with flour and butter, for the most decadent drink I have tasted in my life.
But the best thing is that its water content lets me control it just like the pond. The jar shakes as a tendril of thick liquid stretches from it, flowing into our mouths in a constant stream.
I can feel the sweet concoction coat my throat as it goes down with ease; the thick liquid coats every corner, fills every empty gap left in our stomachs.
My eyes fixate on Ray’s growing middle, as if he grew with every needy gulp he makes. When he opens his eyes to see me, his grin tells me I must look just as delectable.
The stimulation of my hands, the feeling of tending to Ray’s huge gut, and the almost endless cream filling my insides put me into a state of ecstasy I haven’t matched since heaven’s times.
Finally, we both reach our limit, moaning loudly and spewing a tidal wave of cum. The jar is empty, and we both have had our fill, so we lie on the ground side by side, letting the food settle for a moment.
“That was great,” he said.
“I want to use my powers more in our sessions, you know, as practice. Did you like it?” I said, knowing dam well he loves it.
He leaned on me and kissed me before saying, “I hope you are ready for another session tomorrow.”
And oh, how we practiced, every night was a delight. Weirdly enough, I could feel myself getting more control over my skills as the days passed. I could lift him over my dick and fuck him without moving a muscle, or summon a water bed to mess on top of.
Enjoying our growing bodies has never been more fun and waaay less exhausting.
The lack of movement does wonder for my gains as well, the few reinforced chairs around town, start to squeal under my weight and the normal ones are not even an option. My belly continues to fall further down making walking a hassle, and my neck pads up making it hard to turn around quickly, but in my current line of work is not like I need to make quick movements anymore.
The sessions sparked an idea in my head. Veneham’s methods have worked for a long while, but I can tell they have their limits. I need to make a new strategy to improve, and if the energy boost I feel with Ray is anything to go by, this might just be it.
Rayleigh finished the last blueprint for the improved town, and with his newfound free time, I enlisted him to help. He comes with a massive cart filled to the brim with food courtesy of Zackary and gives a proper recharge to every demon he sees. If you are not doing anything, you might as well eat right?
My team uses their abilities while they work. A shark-like demon uses a skill over magnetism to shoot the nails into the floorboards. A demon with a thousand eyes opens portals between the first and third floor to transport materials, and Alcor flaps his wings, sending demons flying upstairs with a strong current of wind.
But the real training begins after work.
“You will pair up and help your teammate grow. Everything there is in your world is the person in front of you and their capacity,” I said.
Alcor sat in front of the shark demon, who remained stoic as the raven brought a piece of cake to his huge maw. His partner opened the cake and bit down on it in a single gulp before reaching for a full turkey and offering it to Alcor.
“This is going to be a lot, isn’t it?” the raven said nervously.
Only getting a nod from the shark.
A demon with a thousand eye tattoos adorning his skin opens portals to send food from the table straight to Alioth’s open mouth. At the same time, Alioth used his control of rocks and minerals to make the silverware fly up and stuff his partner.
Hagen and Zigurd refuse to join us, but I don't worry. Demons are mischievous creatures, and if there is anything that we like more than competing with one another, it is fucking with each other.
They will make sure those two keep up one way or another.
“Hey, Mr. Monroy, don’t you need some help with those blocks of salt? Zigurd is free; he could help you out,” Hagen shouted.
The massive baker waved for the demon’s help with a wide smile. With Hagen’s group of friends laughing at the prank.
“What is wrong with you, old mut? I'm still stuffed from lunch,” Zigurd said.
“Hey man, I'm just worried about your progress. Thank me later,” he said with a laugh.
The humans were happy to see them engage more, but they also quickly caught up to their playfulness.
“Hagen darling, I just came up with this new catalog of recipes, and I would appreciate those three heads of you for some reviews,” a cook said.
“Oh, I need someone to help me load up my carriage.”
“I heard they need someone to help seal a hole in one of the tanks at the brewery.”
“And I need someone to fix up my roof.”
Before long, a crowd had formed around Hagen and his friends, who sighed before getting to work.
The days passed with them slowly but surely submerging themselves into the townsfolk's culture, one job at a time.
“It's good practice to stay and have another serving while everyone on the table is still eating,” Ray said, handing Alcor a plate.
“But, I'm pretty full, my honest man,” the raven said.
Alcor’s belly starts to press against the table as he tries to leave, but Ray presses his bulk against the back of the chair. The raven demon’s talons are the only part of him unaffected by his growing body, so as he pushes back, he only manages to sink more into my man’s bulk.
Ray lets out a belch and adds, “Oh, you are good with that, but I would stop and get back to your meal, you don't want it to get cold.”
The more he stares at the food, the more it assaults his senses, the decadent scent of the still sizzling meat, its intoxicating.
His stretched gut rumbles lazily as drool fills his mouth. Finally, his plump wings reach out for a piece of venison and fill his beak greedily.
Hagen’s three heads laugh at the scene, unaware that his hands reach for another basket of scones. His head has started to mash together with the added neck fat, just enough to make him seem less intimidating, something that makes him boil with anger.
“And we always finish with dessert, it helps you settle your stomach,” I said, passing a basket of bread pudding to Alioth.
He remains stoic as he grabs it and eats unflicnhingly. His grey fur hides the fading definition of his muscles, but his thicker neck and cheeks can't hide the reality of his growing frame.
Besides him, Zigurd tries not to attract attention, fearful of an offering.
“It's customary here to share recommendations, right?” Alioth added.
“Oh sure, if you know of a good spot to fill up, you have to share,” Ray replied.
“Then eat some of the bread as well, soldier, I can’t be the only one to enjoy this bounty,” Alioth said.
“But, sir, I-” Zigurd said, taking the huge tray of berry pudding his general offered.
The tray was classified with his how armor without spilling a drop.
Even under the metal plates of his armor, you can see changes; the thin, sharp features in his complexion fill out, giving him a more blunt appearance, almost as if the metal deforms under the pressure from within.
I continued to use my skills at night and at the work site, and my abilities improved rapidly. I know how much water something needs for my powers to work. Drinks and sauces are a good to go, but anything drier than a piece of cake is out of the question.
The skills of my team improve as they grow, making work move faster, and in no time, we have the first house ready to show off.
Something sniffs at my leg, and I notice bacon munching at my pants.
“Hey, boy, what do you have for me?”
Veneham has been using his pet as the de facto delivery system here, and even with the constant construction, he remains reliable.
I take the letter he keeps in a pouch around his pink body and the oinks happily. As I’m about to read, the pig pulls at my leg again.
“Okay, I know,” I said, giving the little extortionist his pay of berry scones.
Like owner, like pet it seems.
The letter is a fancy invitation from Wilkin for everyone in town. Apparently, he is organizing a housewarming for the first habitable home in Rotwell, followed by a massive BBQ. Wow, the man is fast.
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“The first floor of every house is an open space capable of being used as a kitchen, studio, or craft store, depending on the owner, with reinforced flooring and furniture for our strongest neighbors. A durable patio roof to place chairs outside in case of extra clients, and sturdy rock stairs for the second and third floors,” Wilkin said proudly.
At the mention of stairs, many humans deflated. With everyone in Rothwell getting bigger, it has become harder for them to waddle their way around town without a refreshment, let alone to use traditional stairs.
When I saw them on the blueprints, I thought they would add a charging station in the middle of the house, just in case.
Instead, they came up with the unthinkable.
“I know what you are thinking, and I'm not cruel enough to make you walk all the way to the third floor! I present to you the lift,” he said, pressing a panel by the entrance.
From the ceiling came a panel the size of a carriage hold by a reinforced chain. A group of portly humans steps into it by Wilkin’s request, and with another push of the wall panel, they rise to the second floor.
The intricate system of pulleys and counterweights was a miracle of ingenuity, which, of course, was a bithc to build, but seeing everyone's shocked expressions made it worth it.
While everyone marveled at the ingenuity of the houses, the plane that separated Wilkin’s home from the town, filled with humans and demons alike, had been there since early morning, all of them getting ready for a feast of meat.
Mineral cooked by the fire with Charlie and the boys.
“Let me fan the flames for a bit,” Eliah said.
“No, I want to fan them,” David added.
As they grew older, the brothers only got more competitive with one another; I wonder if we are rubbing off on them.
“Why don't you two go to the back of the house with Alph and bring more wood?” Charlie said with a smile.
Alph was drinking a cold mead with Ray and me until he saw Charlie’s demanding stare.
“Duty calls,” Alph said, getting back up.
We moved close to the fire as Wilkin and Veneham joined us.
“The new guys are fooling around by the field. Hopefully, they can tire themselves out. We could do with some time for ourselves,” Wilkin said.
“I don't know, man. It seems like Veneham, and you are getting plenty of time to fool around,” Charlie added.
Wilkin blushed as he waved his friend away. We all noticed Wilkin’s thin frame was finally putting on some meat. His fragile arms flesh out, his beginner belly barely showing under his shirt, and his trousers stretched over his widening hips.
“I don't know what you are talking about. I'm the same as always.” Wilkin replied.
“Suuure, and all this extra Wilkin was always there,” Ray added, poking at his growing sides.
He is ticklish, laughing at the touch. But quickly trying to act serious, with a bothered face.
“Okay, we might be testing some training techniques before offering them to the group, of course,” he said.
Veneham beams with pride as we laughed it off.
Charlie wraps his arm around Wilking’s shoulder and says, “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Will.”
“This is just a testament to the bond with your partner,” Charlie added, patting his belly.
Mineral turns around and winks at him with a cheeky grin before handing him the first steak of the evening.
“The first one? Someone wants a price later tonight,” Charlie said, taking his plate.
Even Charlie has continued to put on considerable weight. His belly drops over at least a foot over his waistline, his legs rub against each other as he waddles for his food, and his double chin shakes with every ravenous bite of juicy meat.
“Aren’t those Veneham’s guys?” Ray said, pointing at the field.
A sort of rivalry between our groups started a while back, but it grew in scale after my team began training for real. With their results so noticeable, they became the center of attention for challenges.
“It's good to see- you guys finally- understood the source of- true strength,” A demon from Venehams team said to Hagen and his friends.
He looks like a bundle of shadows wrapped in a black cloth that fitted him two sizes ago.
“Yeah, it’s just a shame they can’t keep up with us, but it's to be expected having Veneham as our leader,” Fitz said.
“Okay, cow head, you, me, here and now,” Hagen said.
Hagen’s new body looked imposing with the added fat, his giant stature casting a huge shadow under the new love handles and the belly that now hung a couple of inches in front of him.
His friends cheered from behind as Fitz got into position. Mineral had to deal with Veneham’s competitive strike before, and he suggested that they resolve their disputes as they used to do in his last summoning.
Veneham came back right as the two demons stood in front of each other.
“Oh, right, I'm not missing the action! Go Fitz, you better win this!” Veneham said.
The townsfolk and the other demons notice the commotion and crowd them. The chants for their names drowned the field; even Wilkin and Charlie could hear the cheers all the way here.
At the signal of Alcor, they clashed into each other like a couple of bulls. They grabbed onto each other's flimsy clothes and fat rolls. Trying desperately to push the other one off their feet. They start to huff for air as the battle rages on, with sweat rolling down their faces.
Finally, Fitz takes a strong step forward, and Hagen makes a feint to the side. Making Fitz lose his balance and fall to the floor.
Of course, Veneham is teaching them how to fight, but no one knows his tactics better than I do. So I trained my guys in the perfect counter to him:
Be ready for a straight front attack.
know your weight and use it against them.
My team howled loudly with the human crowd while Fitz and his friends went away.
“Maybe Belfort was right, there must be something to this thing,” Alcor said to Hagen.
“Ooor, the last heir of the Cerberus house reclaims his rightful place at the top. Their last few wins were just lucky shots, you know?” Hagen replied proudly.
“Sure, but just in case, let’s keep up with the training,” his friend replied.
“Okay, let’s get back to the fire. We can’t let that meat burn,” Mineral said.
My eyes stayed on Hagen, even after winning for the first time in a month; the joy left his eyes quickly.
“I told you to stay away from my pyre!” Mineral said, racing back to Veneham.
Veneham was eating the still-red meat from the fire with a delighted expression.
I saw his back banish in between the trees when nobody noticed.
The townsfolk rejoice with every new home that gets finished, and they show their gratitude with tons of food. Ray spends most of his day bringing the carts full of offerings back and forth, happily giving them out.
“Hey, no need to move from there, I will pass you what you want. The fried dough? How much, just kidding, I know you really need it all.”
“Oh, you finished for the day? Help me get rid of these roasted chestnuts. I have a full sack of them, and it would be a shame to dump them. Besides, don’t you have a big sweet tooth?”
“Don't you have metal powers? Just summon more iron from the ground. There is no need to walk all the way across the site for more.”
“I think you found your true calling in life,” I said as he brought me more pastries.
“I’m starting to see what everyone in town likes about this. There is something exhilarating about helping them see things our way,” he replied.
“As long as you help me the most, I don’t mind,” I reply, stuffing him with a pastry.
Of course, their appetites only increased with the influx of food, and the once reluctant demons started to crave more and more of their treats.
“Ey, there is this place doing deep-fried cake slices, wanna come?” Alcor said.
“Just a slice? Boring, let's see if they will fry a whole cake for us,” his friend replied.
Their bodies expanded, finally listening to their desires. Bellies pull forward, shoulders broaden, and legs thicken up.
“Darling, you are finally looking healthier,” A woman said.
“Oh, it’s only our duty, Madam,” Alioth said.
Alioth's fuller cheeks make his fangs and horns stand out as the only sharp features in his physique. The patch of black fur on his neck bunches up, pushed by his second chin and ever-sinking neck. His chest inflated like perky balls of flesh, so big they can’t be held in a single hand. His belly doesn't push forward as much, but it compensates by bulging out to his sides, giving him a wide look that could blind any human in front of him.
“It's a shame some of your teammates are still struggling so much,” the woman said, looking at Zigurd.
His metal armor continues to bunch outward, with his love handles and overhang starting to be weighed down. The metal bends and curves as if fire had melted it into that shape from the get-go. His arms look like stuffed sausages fighting with his expanding moobs for space.
“Don’t worry, madam, we are all helping them catch up. But thanks for your worries,” Alioth replies.
I start to worry about Zigurd and Hagen; as time passes, they become the only two unable to join the rest of the group for training. Alcor has tried to speak to his friend plenty of times, and Alioth seems determined to keep his soldier in shape, yet they refuse to speak.
If we finish the repairs and they stick to this bad rep, they might be the only demons sent back. For a while, I try to let it go; if they want to self-sabotage, so be it.
But one night, I had the same nightmare as a couple of months ago. This time, as I sink into the earth, I see hell. After a year and some change, I can see the same lava pit that we came from, and the sight stuns me like never before.
No clear skies, no warmth of the sun, or the green of the grass, just oppressive, lonely hell. I can’t in good conscience let them fail and go back to that.
That morning, I went to the site determined to convince both demons to join us.
“I’m telling you people, they are setting us up,” a demon from Veneham’s group said.
His stubby horns and draconic body adorned with metal plates pop out in my group. The rest of his team walks away from the worksite, since they have finished their delivery for the day.
“Don’t be so dramatic, they have told us everything we need to know,” Alcor said.
“Hey, let’s hear what he has to say,” Hagen replied.
“A few nights ago, a couple of demons and I went to the woods for those reunions,” Kaiser said.
The group looks at each other knowingly, and Alcor sighs in exasperation. What reunions?
“It was very late, so nobody should be out, but from the greenery, we spotted Alph pulling a cart filled to the brim with food. He was going deeper into the woods, so I left Alioth and the rest to train while following Alph down. Eventually, we made it to a lonely house almost at the other end of the woods. Alph pushed the cart inside and-” Kaiser said.
“Come on, man, cut to the chase!” Zigurd said, shaking Kaiser up.
“Alph was feeding all of that food to a single demon. The thing was the size of a room and made of pure lard. We saw him feed that thing plate after plate. The demon just sat there eating giddily while Alph chatted with him. And once the food ran out, he took his cart and left. You know what that means?” Kaiser said.
Nobody said a word. So he replied, “They are waiting for us to get that big, and once we can't move. They will put us into little cabins in the woods, all we're going to do is eat and eat.”
“You found the Djinn they defeated?!” Hagen said incredulously.
“Even after what he did, Belfort and the rest spared his life. How honorable,” Alcor added.
“Everyone in town forgave him after that? No wonder they are so welcoming to us,” A demon with long horns and wooden skin said
“We were so lucky to be summoned here,” someone else replied.
As the group of demons chatted over the story, Kaiser quietly walked away with an expression of panic on his face. But my attention was drawn to Hagen, who rushed to the woods.
What is he planning to do? I waddle my way behind him as fast as I can. He runs for a while until he finally stops in a clearing and falls to his knees. I stop leaning on a tree, huffing for air, my weight made the tree groan, and Hagen turns to me.
“What do you want?” He said bitterly.
“I could ask you the same,” I replied.
“Save me the act, you are just as selfish as any of us. Cut the sanctimonious crap and leave,” he said, turning his back on me.
“I’m not going to act and pretend as if I don't benefit from this. If you all get stronger, I get what I want faster, my home, my life in paradise, my safe and secure future,” I said.
The growls at the comment, still avoiding my eyes.
“But I can’t ignore that I see some of myself in all of you,” I added.
“I’m nothing like you! You can’t begin to understand any of our struggles from your perfect pedestal. You and your friends had no lives before, no expectations, no goals beyond your mundane lives in hell. With the one exception of that lousy colosseum champion,” he said.
One of his heads contorted with anger, huffing for air, agitated, while another tried to hold back the tears that welled in his eyes. With the center one screaming at me still, his eyes glassy with despair.
“His miserable ass came to the coliseum, defeated everyone at sight, even my father, and after screwing us all over, he just retired. And while he sat on his ass in hell or ate like a pig here, some of us had missions to fulfill, a legacy to uplift!” He said.
“You can still have a legacy, defeat him in the one battle he still wants to have here. It doesn’t need to be a bloody fight in the colosseum. Hagen, you have grown a lot since you arrived. Your friends look up to you. Why force yourself to stick to the old ways of doing things?”
“Because if this was always an option, if my powers could have awoken millennia ago by just sitting on my ass and eating, then all of this suffering, training, and slaving away was for nothing!” he shouted.
He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, showing his body; the sweat from the run dripped down his belly, pooling on his overhang.
While Alioth is perky and wide, Hagen is soft and even out. His belly is as wide as it is thick at the front with an overhang that rests half a foot over his waistband. But his most prominent feature is his chest. The two slabs of meat rest heavily over his belly with the nipples growing to the size of salamis.
“I’ve worked my ass off to make my family proud as a Cerberus, to throw it all away for a semi-decent meal. If this shit doesn’t work, how can I go back to hell like this?” he shouted angrily.
“Then make it work, you heard the rules. If you grow as big as me, we’ll let you stay,” I said, stepping forward.
He looked at me with angry eyes, determined to stay unyielding.
“I was like you, chasing a dream, trying to become something I’m not. And Rothwell showed me there was so much more I could be. You can do the same,” I added, taking another step.
My belly pushed into him, but he stayed strong on his feet. My body is a couple of inches taller than his, fully obscuring the view of anything ahead of him. His breathing turned agitated, and for a moment I thought he would push me aside, but he stayed immobile.
“Bring back a victory that trophy, that not even your father or his father could take from the heavens. Life on Earth! And when they come, because believe me, this is a flame that can’t be turned off anymore, they will see you as a hero,” I said.
His eyes turn red, and I see tears fall as he looks away.
“I do- I want this in a way. But how can you give up on everything you were before, so easily?” he said.
“Nobody said it was easy, but it will be once you accept what you truly want. If you let me help you, I promise you won't regret it,” I replied.
He looked at me, his left head still looking scared, gritting his teeth. The right one looked sadder, almost grieving his old self. But I kept my focus on the middle one. His eyes burned with determination as he reached for my hand.
“You'd better make this work,” he said.
Before we made it back to work, I asked, “What do you know of Alioth’s meetings?”
Hagen looked puzzled; he may not know what I am talking about.
“Oh, we all assumed you knew of them. Months ago, we all got together to train at night. You know to prevent this,” he said, pointing at his belly.
He looked absolutely defeated, looking down at his heavy belly. I’ll make sure to change that expression in due time.
“Most of the group left when the training began, and I left when Alioth started to spout about Lucifer’s return and such,” he said.
Lucifer’s return? Just what in all of hell is happening here?
Hagen continued explaining the situation, and as we made our way back to work, I started to plan how to tackle this issue.
That night, I planned to camp out until Alioth and his group showed up. I explained the plan to Ray, and he offered to make me company as I waited. Of course, we ate and fucked until we both saw white. For a second, I almost heard heaven’s bells, but I doubt they ring for dry orgasms.
The hours passed, and nothing happened. Ray eventually fell asleep while I rubbed his belly. I remained there under the moonlight waiting. It was closer to sunrise than midnight when I finally saw their lantern.
Massive bodies slowly make their way to a patch of woods damaged as if by an asteroid.
I looked quietly as Alioth pulled metal from the ground and punched the dirt, making the crater he stood by even deeper.
By the trees, Zigurd punched trees down with small, concentrated punches. They were so deliberate and precise that it was almost as if a saw cut through the wood.
After he took down another tree, he groaned in anguish. Alioth comes to him, the ground pushing his feet forward almost as if hovering over it.
“What's the matter now, boy?” The general said.
“This is not working, sir. It's been months, and we haven't found it yet. What am I doing wrong?” Zigurd said.
“You are getting distracted from your mission, lad. Your purpose is not to find your demon skill but to reclaim Earth. And the more you get stuck on your own way, the further away you will be from the finish line. Now go back to work,” Alioth said in a dry, looming tone.
“Bullshit!” I shouted.
I make my way towards them as I add, “You know why you haven’t found your demon skill? because you keep fooling around at the crack of dawn, instead of doing as I say.”
The soldier stood strong in front of his general, almost ready to pounce at me.
“You know the pact you made prevents you from doing something stupid, Zigurd, so unless you want a one-way ticket to hell. I would cool down,” I said.
He relaxes, looking away angrily but staying right in front of Alioth.
“And you! What do you think you are doing here?” I said, pointing at the general.
“We are doing what we were meant to do from the get-go,” Alioth said.
“ A public pool? We have a river. This is just trying too hard,” I replied.
“A way to get our army back, you moron!” he shouted angrily.
His sudden outburst takes me aback; his scream was so loud the birds woke up and flew away in fear. But I stayed still, there is nothing he can do to harm me or anyone, just himself.
“You have any idea how much I’ve been biting my own tongue as the four of you wasted the triumph card to our war and just decided to waste it? What happened to the coliseum warrior, to the proud engineer of the seas, and the protector of the woods?” Alioth said.
Why does he know of my old work?
“We thought we lost paradise forever, general, then we found it here. There is no point in risking the best thing we ever had since heaven, for a war that's been lost for millennia,” I said.
“You think those humans will just sit back and let us live among them forever?” He said.
His voice became erratic as he continued, “Once their lives are perfect, they will dispose of us as any other summoner has done through time.”
“You have seen it by yourselves, this people are not like other summoners. They have accepted us as their neighbors and friends. If they were looking to just dispose of us, why not after the festival? We had a demon blast through their homes, and still they allowed us to summon your asses here,” I replied.
Zigurd looked at me, doubt settling in his face.
“They are so forgiving, they have allowed the Djinn to live here, Alph is feeding him to awaken his skills so maybe one day he can stand back up, move with us, and live among the rest of the town,” I said.
“Oh, please, the same Djinn who set the place on fire will just waltz its way back and sing with everyone. Not even the heavens are that forgiving, and we know it by experience,” Alioth said.
“Some of the townsfolk visit him, you know, they pity him and his reasons. Who do you think cooks all the food Alph brings there?”
Zigurd looks toward the cabin; he must have seen it plenty of times now. I wonder if he ever saw a human walk in and just now realized why.
Alioth's breath becomes fast and agitated, taking a step closer to me, pushing Zigurd out of the way as he says, “Let’s pretend these humans are dumb enough to let us stay. Then, you think the heavens will sit back and let us live like this forever? Or you think that flash flood was a pure coincidence?”
The memories of that day come back to me, the nightmares and Rayleigh’s last days. What if it’s all part of heaven's plan to torture us even more?
“Nothing that happens here is out of his ratchet sight, boy. We already lost once; no matter how strong you get, you can’t win with your strength alone. You will need numbers,” Alioth said.
“I’ll die trying to protect them then, but I won't waste my life pretending it's already a lost battle set in stone,” I said.
His face turns red with fury, but before he gets to continue, Zigurd finally speaks.
“If heaven knows everything, if they can stop us no matter what. Why are we doing this then?”
“Don't you start giving me attitude, soldier,” Alioth said.
“If every disaster will rain upon us, no matter what we do. Then why can’t I fight for myself? Why should I let every other demon enjoy and thrive? while I starve myself every day and night!” Zigurd said, tears rolling down his cheeks.
They don't have the sadness of a fall but the anger of late realization.
“Everyone else in your deserters' camp has given up on this; you two are the only ones still here, and I won't force you to stop. If you want to dig a hole all the way back to the center of the earth, try and see how far you can get before Wilkin zaps your ass back to hell,” I said.
I turn around and start to make my way back to the base, but before I go, I say, “Hagen joined us to train, you know? He might be able to get his skill soon, but he needs a partner. Should I count on you?”
Zigurd looks at his general, the man who led him through every step of his career and all the way here. And even as he shakes on his metallic boots, he replies, “Yes, at first hour, sir.”
-----------------------
With Zigurd teaming up with Hagen to find each other’s skills, our sessions became a bit more rowdy.
“That's what you call help? I could feed myself faster,” Haggen said.
“Can you hurry up with the cream? I think a sloth would make better use of my time,” Zigurd said.
At some point, we just got used to their bickering.
But even if they struggled to find their powers, their gains compensated for it.
Hagen's head starts to fuse with his sinking neck as his fat pushes more and more outwards. His chest blossoms, pushing his arms out and making his already imposing belly push a full foot down.
Zigurds' armor bulges out like the curves of a barrel. His sides are filled with no one or two but four clashing rolls that struggle for space with his love handles and moobs. His chest is flaccid, drooping over his belly lower and lower by the day. While each connection and old sharp angles soften, leaving soft, supple flesh. It's weird to the touch; it retains its roughness even as it's hot and malleable, like melted steel. Just less mortal, I guess.
Having everyone working together boosts the team's spirit; now they boast of their newfound strength to every onlooker who passes by the construction site.
Wilkin offered to make some small additions to the town to make the demons comfortable. The one they enjoyed the most was a smaller version of the Colosseum.
We built a stone circle with brimstone we brought back from hell. I'm just glad some of them offered to go instead of me. I would have died if my fat ass had to endure that heat again.
Every other day, they go to challenge one another in feats of strength, but no matter how much they clash, they always end up in an eating challenge.
“They are not too different from us,” I said.
“At least mine are, getting my masterful advice, they can't be too far away from success,” Veneham replied.
“Oh, really, did you say that about my teammates? The ones who whipped the floor of yours in the last three rounds?” I said with a grin.
“Yeah, you haven't shut up about it. It doesn't count if we lose due to Kaiser, the man is a twig,” Veneham added.
“It seems not everyone can handle your masterful regimen,” I said.
“No shit, the man is so stubborn, but whatever. Everyone else in my team is now on high-level healing magic. Did I mention we healed a group of sick cows? They are giving five times their regular output of milk, and they are gaining weight in record time,” He said with a grin as well.
“And did I mention my team
“My group summoned a couple of hellhounds and some boar of the damned. We expanded the farmland and added an irrigation system with the River behind Charlie’s house. We can go fishing there soon,” Mineral said with a smile.
“Very well done, Mineral,” Veneham replied.
“Always giving good news, big guy,” Belfort said.
“Okay, I'm gonna get going. Wilkin has a need funnel system, and I'm dying to try it,” Veneham said.
As Mineral and I continued to watch the last few fights of the day, he asked, “Is everything okay on your side of the fence?”
“With my team? Sure,” I replied.
“It's because you continue to stare at that guy, and it's starting to worry me,” he said calmly, pointing at Alioth.
He is quietly looking at Zigurd enter an eating challenge against one of Mineral’s demons.
After explaining my situation and the ever-growing crater in the woods, he leans forward and sighs.
“You did the right thing,” he says.
“I want to believe so, but I still feel I'm doing something wrong. You and Veneham have every demon in your groups already up to speed. But this guy is so hard-headed,” I replied.
“Listen, Bell, we all struggle in our approaches; you are not the only one who realized Veneham’s methods had a ceiling,” he said.
“And here I thought I was original,” I replied.
“He pushes his team as much as he pushes himself, and some of his teammates just can’t have that level of demand. One of them might just go back to hell willingly for all I know,” he added.
“No way, really?” I asked.
“Yeah, and you didn't hear it from me, but Kaiser. The punny one hasn't meshed too well with our ways, and Veneham’s approach didn't help. But even after your conversation with Alioth, he stayed, he is still training, he is still developing, with enough time, he might realize you were right all along,” Mineral added.
Zigurd belched in the distance, claiming victory over his challenge, and the rest of the team came to him to celebrate.
Team bell, team bell, team beeeellll!! they howler through the colosseum.
“Besides, I think you are doing a great job so far. You took the most stubborn group of demons any of us could ask for and managed to make them a team,” Mineral said.
“They are a group of idiots, but they are my idiots. Thanks, big guy, you always know what to say,” I replied.
“I know my calling in life and know how to do it. And for all its worth, I think you found yours,” he said, standing up.
Now, let's get going. I want to see if we can get dinner while Veneham is busy with Wilkin,” he said with a laugh.
---------
“Stay still, little bug, I can’t work if you keep struggling,” Hagen said.
Zigurd moaned under the weight of his partner, who tried to shove another funnel cake down his throat.
“Think how fattening this is, how every gulp you take makes you bigger. The tightness in your stomach is not discomfort, but a pulsing alert that you will become more than what you are now,” Hagen said, pushing another pastry.
Hagen pushed the last piece of food at the table off to Zigurd when the chair the armored demon was seated on split in half. The two of them stumble on top of each other trying to recover themselves.
Hagen looked at Zigurds sprawled body, and for a second, his hands lingered on his partner's folds. Zigurd suppresses a moan, and all we hear is, “Oh, wait, did you just burn me?”
Hagen recoils, and vines sprout from the ground to pull him back. They both looked in shock as Zigurd's body continued to emit heat like a natural furnace, and the vines now wrapping around Hagen bloomed into lilies.
For a moment, I worried they would deflate at the revelation, but I gasp as they tackled each other in a passionate embrace.
The group cheered as the last two demons in our camp finally got their powers.
“Hagen, my dear brother, you have finally, oh no- not like that-” Alcor said, rushing away from the couple.
“What's the problem?” I said, stepping forward until I saw Hagen drop his pants and reach for Zigurd’s ass.
“Okay, everyone, let's just give these two some time,” I said, pushing everyone away.
If the three teams were determined to win before, after that episode, my team was dead set on the prize.
“Is that all you’re having? I ate more than that for breakfast,” one of Veneham’s guys said.
“How can you tell? All you people do is turn off your brain and eat,” said one of my demons.
“You all are just jealous we got trained by the Axe Legend and festival all-time winner!” another demon replied.
“Belfort will kick his ass, just like we will kick yours!” they replied.
They would continue like that for hours, eating more and more just to make a point. Of course, my team won every time, or so they tell me.
The humans picked sides, cheering on their favorite teams. Soon, the townsfolk filled the new areas of town with flags and banners bearing our names in preparation for the next festival.
Even as we continued to repair the damage from the flood, they had eyes only for the future, and so did I.
My water powers continue to improve, and as a kid with a new toy, I keep using them for everything. I barely move as we finish another lane of houses, or put up the new border wall for the town, or even as I fuck Rayleigh senseless.
I push mead and beer into my team’s mouths like a floating fountain while they work. Or use a current to take us all back to the camp like a portable chariot.
My team takes the hint and does the same, using every opportunity they have to show off their skills. Haggen raises wood from the earth as the base for a house without moving a finger, while Zigurd melts metal bars into the wood by just leaning into them.
One of the new guys, with a compression ability, reduced a full table of food to a couple of mouthfuls. Just to see the food expand inside everyone's stomachs.
Mineral's team doesn't stay behind, going all-in on their displays. They would summon trees and vines filled with fruits to their tables like they were waiters. Gorging themselves with fruit and vegetables the size of tables
Meanwhile, Veneham’s team uses healing magic to mend their strained stomachs after a feast, just to keep eating once everyone is full. They make a point of letting themselves enter a zombie-like state where all they see is the food in front of them.
Our rapid progress is so notorious that some demons change groups and join us. That is when we heard Kaiser had jumped ship.
“He just said he couldn't do it,” Wilkin said sadly after sending him back.
“Goes to show we have the better leader, right guys!” One of my guys said the following day.
“Yeah, we’ll show everyone in town we are the best team at the festival!” Hagen replied.
He punched up to the sky, sending his underarm fat jiggling. In the last few months, Hagen managed to catch up to his teammates. even surpassing some of them. He looked like a sack of melted butter, with a belly that knocked his knees and arms that constantly stayed at an angle due to his breasts.
Those things are the size of my head, really.
His boyfriend, cheered by his side, with his metallic body rounding out like a wrecking ball. His legs stay far apart in a wide stance because his thighs have grown the size of a newborn calf; folds of lard make them spread to his size, way past his shoulders.
“We can't lose,” the shark demon said, giving me the biggest grin I have seen in my life.
The imposing wall of flesh has so many teeth, I wonder, how he hasn't eaten Alcor’s hand yet?
While my heart flutters with pride, I had to ask, “Okay, guys, I'm sure we’ll kick everyone’s asses no matter the challenge. But for now, I need a couple of you to help me with some extra work. Wilkin wants to extend our territory to match some new blueprints, so we have to move the limit wall.”
They all stayed silent until Alcor replied, “I'm sorry, boss, I have to help at the brewery. Mr. Ferguson wants my wind to keep a steady fire in the furnaces.”
The raven demon looked at me apologetically while taking a bite of his late afternoon pre-dinner snack. His wings look more like fat folds, with how thick they've gotten lately; his neck and face balloon, making his beak the only part of him that stays solid, along with his talons.
We all feared they would bend under such weight, but with his wind skill and natural strength, he managed to stay mobile through it all. His belly is flaccid even when he is stuffed, ready to burst, wide as Alph of all people. If not by his height, I would say he is ready to stay.
“I have to help at the inn's kitchen.” A demon said.
“I have to help Ms. Constance with the deliveries to the neighboring town.”
“My humans want to move their father off the couch,” Alioth said.
Just like Mineral said, the last man in my group threw the towel on his military ambitions. I think it was seeing The Djinn float back to town, to a big welcoming affair, or the fact that Lucifer didn't get in our way when we went in and out of hell to gather brimstone.
But regardless, it made him click. I never expected an apology, but he still prostrated himself before me just in case. It was hard to see him try to do that at his current weight. His boulder of a belly is as wide as mine but as solid as Mineral’s.
His legs are packed tightly like sacks of potatoes, with a bottom that could take down a tree if he is not careful. All with a pair of tits that could suffocate him if his neck wasn't this long.
“When did you all become so popular in town?” I said proudly.
“Hey, we have high demand since we are the beeeeest!” Hagen shouted, followed by the cheers of his friends.
“Okay, okay, we can schedule this for tomorrow, go make me proud, you idiots,” I said.
As we started to wrap up work on the houses and continued down the town’s map to the roads, stores, and Inn’s. Voyagers started to come back.
The flood ravaged most of the river's course; elsewhere, mudslides and even famine struck, but once they heard rumors of a town blossoming amid the chaos. They just couldn't resist.
They came looking for help and found food they couldn't leave without, even in better times. What can we say, Rothwell is addictive. They couldn't pay, and we had more food than we could feasibly eat even now. So we gave it away for nothing.
Carriages came and went, bringing food and assistance back to their towns. Alph, Charlie, and Mineral even went to the closest villages to send aid. That week, Ray and I stayed to take care of the boys, and oh, how they run around. I had to set up a floating pool for them to settle down.
The constant influx of people made it impossible to walk down the streets, especially as we continue to expand. So we needed to double the width of the streets and the size of eateries.
The number of demons with free time to help us build decreased, since some families grew accustomed to specific demons over time. They would call them constantly for any tasks; bonds grew until they made new contracts and eventually moved with them.
Finally, Wilkin determined the only choice was to summon more demons. Since we didn't have space to keep them at night, they were sent back to hell and resummoned every morning. In hell, they would share the stories of our heroic deeds, the tendencies at town, and of course, the true nature of our strength.
With more fresh demons desperate to learn our ways, the banter between our teams grew on the streets.
“That's what you call a lunch? No wonder your leader is so scrawny,” one of my guys said.
“This is a small offering, beanpole! And you know Veneham is bigger than any other leader!” his rival replied.
“Who are you calling beanpole? I'm three times your size!”
“Neither of you stands up to us in size; only Mineral has the true secret for strength, haha,” one of Mineral’s guys said, followed by his group shouting and cheering.
“We will show you at this year’s festival who has the better boss!” One of my guys said.
Every day that passes, they make me prouder, and make my fear of a bleak future all the more distant.
Between upgrades, plan changes, and additions, we barely had time to work on our houses.
Mineral, Alph, Veneham, and I agree to leave our respective places last once everyone has a roof over their heads. With how frail humans are, it only made sense.
Ray and I went to the place we used to call home every weekend since the flood to rebuild. And even almost a year later, we still have a few details to tune. Every time we think we're finished, we find a new feature or an old knack we could fix.
The month before the festival begins, Ray calls me to meet at our house, and I get ready with tools, nails, and wooden boards to finish the reinforced balcony we had in mind.
“Surprise!” Ray said, standing in front of a finished house.
“Wait, what did you do?” I said.
I was fascinated with the mansion standing in front of me. It's the home we worked on for months, and every coat of paint and every detail has been finished just as we said we would.
“I've been spending some extra time here this week, while you train the guys. Do you like it?” he said confidently.
“I love it, Ray,” I said, hugging him.
With titanic strength, I lift my man off the ground.
“Hey, wow, careful there, I'm not as small as I used to be,” he said as we entered our new home.
“And you are only going to get bigger here,” I said with a laugh.
My eyes welled with tears as I saw what awaited me inside. Putting Rayleigh down, I got close to the wooden figures Ray did for me back when we first started dating.
“I could only find a couple in the wreckage, but I made some replicas to complete the set,” he said.
The bookshelf I used to store my books was full of copies of the ones we planned to read before the flood.
Even a copy of his wooden stove brings life to the kitchen. And right as we enter the bedroom, I see the set of pillows he sew for me.
“More than recovering the tattered clothes, sewing them back was the real hassle,” he said with a laugh.
He showed me his hands, all covered in little bandages from the stings he got while sewing.
“I know you have been worried about what we lost that day, and recovering our lives as soon as possible,” he said.
My eyes open widely as he smiles at me.
“You talk in your sleep, babe,” he added.
“You have to be kidding me,” I said, rubbing my temples.
“I know you only wanted to save me the worry, but you don't have to carry that burden, Bell. I'm going to be here by your side forever, and if another flood sweeps this house away, I’ll make another set of cupboards and sew more pillows. Because you deserve them all,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
My eyes are so drenched in tears that I can barely see him as I embrace him in the tightest hug I can give him.
“I don't deserve you, Ray. You are the best man to grace this earth. I don’t want to ever face a day without you,” I said.
Kneeling in front of him, I fetch the small box Miriel made for me, I open it, and a small silver band shines as I present it to him.
“Would you do me the honor of being my husband for eternity?” I said.
He looked at me, stunned, before falling to the floor as well and sobbing by my ear as he said, “Of course I will.”
I stepped back and placed the ring on his left hand just like we saw happening in that wedding last spring. His face was covered with tears as he looked at it. But I had to ask the heaviest question.
“Ray, when I say eternity. I mean eternity,” I said.
He looked at me with a pleased expression, wiping his tears and adding, “You want to use that demon spell that binds us for life, right?”
“Just how much do I say asleep?” I said.
“Mineral and Charlie are talking about it. Charlie asked me my opinion on it months ago. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. When you are truly in love, no amount of time is enough; eternity just seems the bare minimum to me,” He said.
I try to hold myself from crying even more. So I clear my throat, hold his hand, and say, “You make me the happiest man in the world, Ray, thanks.”
We stayed there in our space, cuddling, enjoying the beauty of the moment. The world outside doesn't feel bleak or fearful cause no matter what comes for us, heaven, time, or Lucifer himself. I can count on facing it with the best man ever.
Like some of you know, I've been through a lot in the last six months. I had all the intentions of extending this part of the story into a couple of extra chapters. But sometimes things don't align as we originally planned.
<<First Chapter / <Previous Chapter / Next Chapter>>
Is Demons at home going to continue? So curious to see how it ends🥹
Thanks for asking about my story, seeing people care for them motivates me to keep going.
My original plan was to post the follow up to demons at home relatively soon after chapter 10, but my dog of 18 years died and then both my parents got diagnosed with cancer.
But I’m getting back on the train for demons and hoping to finish soon!
In the meantime, let me know if you guys have questions of the story or if there is anything you would like to see, my ask box is always open!
(Collab between me and boeckman on Deviantart who wrote this amazing story)
“Dude. I thought you said this place would be cool.” Mackenzie Yoon was not impressed. The tall young man stared at the cheesy sign with no expression on his face. He looked out of place on the boardwalk. He was dressed as if he had just stepped out of a gym, just like always.
“Fun,” Trent corrected. “I said it would be fun, Mack. Big difference. If it’s all stupid shit, it’ll still be fun because we can laugh at it.”
The two were an odd pair. Trent was the doer who dragged the stoic jock out to experience the world. He was lean and wiry, and he still dressed exactly the way he used to when he was the class clown in school. He insisted that his ripped jeans were still stylish, and he swore he would wear his trusty Converse until the soles fell apart. Despite his slightly below-average height, Mack could always spot him in a crowd thanks to his signature yellow beanie.
By all accounts, Mack should have been a standard jock. He had played multiple sports throughout school, and he practically had a mini home gym in his apartment. But his reserved nature had alienated him from most of his teammates. Instead, he had gravitated toward his neighbor, who could somehow always convince him to go on weird adventures. At first, it was wandering through the “haunted” woods on the other side of their neighborhood. Once Trent could drive, it was exploring abandoned warehouses, and then after high school, it was random road trips.
But this was more than just a road trip. This was a celebration of their recent graduation from college. Trent had gone away for school, while Mack had stayed close to home. Trent had joked that Mack would be a lost puppy without him, but that’s exactly why Mack didn’t follow his best friend to the big state college. If he ever wanted to try actually dating a dude (he’d only come out to his family and Trent’s family in high school), he needed to do it on his own.
But now, the two were up to their old shenanigans. They were both single and untethered at the moment, and they both needed one big, awesome vacation before they officially went from being students to being cogs in the machine. Trent had planned a road trip taking them in a loop that covered every state in New England. Mack shrugged and said, “Sure, that sounds cool.”
Trent had googled the weirdest sights to see, creepy haunted buildings, and former tourist traps that had passed their prime. That last one had yielded the building that now stood before them. The question was, had it ever been in its prime?
“I thought this was supposed to be a Ripley’s Believe It or Not,” Mack said.
“I said it was like a Ripley’s. But probably weirder. Or worse. Or both. That’s what’s fun about it. Either it’ll surprise us with how wild it is, or we’ll be laughing our asses off at how dumb it is. This is supposed to be some so bad it’s good shit. Just look at that ridiculous sign. ‘Beelieve It!’ Why does it have two Es?”
“It has four Es.”
Trent gave his companion a flat stare. “You know what I meant. Anyway, let’s get our tickets and go in.”
Mack shrugged. “Alright.”
Trent knew that was Mack code for, “Let’s do this. I trust your judgement.”
The building was garish to say the least. The ‘Beelieve It!’ sign had white letters on an eye-searing neon psychedelic swirl, and the façade had diagonal stripes in colors that did not match the sign at all. There was something about the whole thing that was like an optical illusion, as if the building wasn’t quite rectangular. The dimensions almost seemed to shift
depending on where you looked, so that one moment it looked taller, and then it looked wider, and then it looked slanted, like the whole thing was leaning to the right. That part was pretty cool.
There was a ticket booth built into the outside wall, so Trent led the way over. He stepped up to the glass and came face to face with some guy’s chest. He looked up and up until he finally made eye contact with a ridiculously tall teenager. These types of attractions always had high schoolers making some summer money, but usually they were just regular pimply, gawky guys, not freaks of nature.
After they got their tickets, Trent whispered, “So… uh, that kid must be a basketball player, right?”
“He can probably dunk the ball without jumping,” Mack deadpanned. It was an exaggeration, but not by that much.
The lobby was just as wild as the outside. The walls were covered in jagged black and yellow spirals that would make you dizzy if you stared too long. The ticket scanner was another bored teen, but this one was sitting down… on a pair of stools. Trent had never seen anyone so fat.
The kid scanned their tickets and gave a spiel about the self-guided tour in a monotone voice. “World’s Blankest Blanks are in the front. Concessions are in the middle. The mirror tunnel, blacklight maze, land of cryptids, and hall of weird history each branch off from concessions and circle back around to the World’s Blankest. Take as long as you’d like. We’re open ’til 9.”
As they headed toward the first main area, Mack stared at Trent with eyebrows raised as high as they would go. Well, Trent couldn’t actually see Mack’s eyebrows underneath the jock’s unruly black hair, but he knew that facial expression. Trent shrugged and whispered, “Fat guys have to work somewhere, right?”
The two friends made their way to the first main exhibit. It was set up kind of like a weird wax museum. Most of the figures had a platform next to them where you could get your picture taken. Mack at least had no interest in paying for a novelty photo, but he wouldn’t mind posing for some with Trent. He knew his goofy friend would get a real kick out of seeing the results, even if they didn’t purchase them.
The place was not crowded, but there were a few families, couples, and small groups wandering around, interacting with the different exhibits. Mack pointed to a sign touting the “Oldest Man Alive.” The wax figure wore only a little earth-colored toga, and he was stooped with a beard that went nearly down to his waist. There was a spot where you could compare your height with the shriveled figure.
Trent laughed out loud when he spotted the World’s Largest Bear, a stuffed polar bear the size of a Volkswagen bus. Some kids were posing for a photo as if it was chasing them.
“See?” Trent said. “This shit is weird in the best way.”
Mack nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It’s fun.”
Trent got a picture pressing his butt up against the World’s Largest Eggplant. He made Mack pose next to a giant shark that looked like it was out of a sci-fi channel movie.
“Hey, look, it’s your dream boyfriend!” Trent joked, pointing to the World’s Strongest Man. The wax figure looked like it was based on a Photoshopped picture of a bodybuilder, and Trent had a feeling that the original image might be pretty racy. The figure was holding a giant barbell, and there was an identical barbell on the otherwise empty platform next to it. “Go on, test your strength!” Trent laughed.
Mack took a long look at the ridiculously proportioned figure and then back at Trent. “No.” “Aww, man,” Trent huffed. “You’re no fun.”
“One more,” Mack said. “Then we move on. We’ll be back here later anyway.”
That was a fair point. Trent headed toward the hallway leading to the concessions area. There were two last exhibits flanking the passageway, and they gave Trent a weird sense of déjà vu. They were the Tallest Man alive and the Fattest Man Alive. “The kid at the ticket booth was almost this tall,” he told Mack, looking up and up at the wax figure. There was a platform where you could compare your height.
“Even he wasn’t this tall,” Mack replied. “No way this is real.”
“Obviously they’re not real,” Trent laughed. “That’s not the point. The point is how ridiculous they are. Like this one.” He pointed to the Fattest Man Alive. A digital counter on the wall behind the figure read “1047 lbs.” The empty platform next to it was also attached to a digital readout on the wall. “Come on, let’s do this one. I bet the two of us together don’t even weigh as much as his gut. Or one of his legs.”
“Dude. No.” Mack agreed that the weirdness of the exhibits was part of the charm, but this one was extra weird. Someone had put a strangely intense amount of work into making the folds of fat realistic on the wax figure. The figure rose a little taller than Mack, and it was utterly enormous. Impossibly big. More than twice the size of that massive kid scanning tickets in the lobby.
The wax figure wore a little strip of white fabric that went down from its shoulder and tucked under its belly. Mack figured it must be for modesty, but it didn’t really cover anything. And the family jewels were very well hidden anyway. The figure’s belly, complete
with flabby folds, hung all the way down to its dimpled knees. Its hips were somehow even wider than its belly, with love handles and moobs that stuck out equally far. The arms were positioned at a wide angle, not because of a particular pose but because its enormous moobs and huge, flabby arms were fighting for space.
Trent thought it was hilarious. “I think his calves are as big as your waist.”
That was probably true. Mack had maintained a very trim waist despite his wide chest and shoulders. The wax figure’s huge calves hung down, completely obscuring its ankles. Its thighs were twice as wide. It was absurd. “I wanna see Bigfoot,” Mack said. “Let’s just go and head to the cryptid area.”
But Trent held his ground. “You said one more.” He looked up at the “Fattest Man Alive” sign. Like most of the signs, it had a spiral design behind the letters. This one was yellow and blue. It almost seemed to move when he stared at it. “I want to do this one.”
Mack couldn’t go back on his word. He was always honest. He followed Trent’s gaze up to the sign. The yellow and blue almost seemed to turn clockwise behind the black letters. It made him dizzy. “Fine. One picture. I’ll pose however you want.”
Trent pumped his fist and let out a little “Yes!” Louder, he said, “Alright, let’s see if this scale thing is fake or if it gets our weight right. “Oh, and do a muscle pose. Look really serious. That’ll make it funnier.”
Mack always looked serious. He stepped up on the pedestal with Trent following close behind. He raised his arms up and flexed, straining the fabric of his t-shirt.
Trent glanced to his side and then hit a complimentary pose, curling his fists and doing his best to flex his nonexistent muscles. He laughed as he stepped off the platform. “This’ll be hilarious. Oh look! The kiosk is right here!” He bounded over to see their photo. Mack peered over his shoulder.
“Look at this!” Trent laughed as the photo came up on the screen. “This is exactly what I wanted! Two skinny guys–”
“One skinny, one muscular,” Mack cut in.
“–and one totally impossibly fat guy. “Look.” He pointed at Mack’s image. “Your shirt’s riding up so that your Adonis belt is showing. That makes the huge guy look even more ridiculous. Can you imagine anyone even half his size?”
“He’s like ten of you.”
“I’m not that small,” Trent pouted. “Hey, look.” He moved his finger above Mack. “There’s our weight. 349. Think that’s right?”
Mack nodded. “I’m just over 200 ‘cuz I’m tall, and I’ve got these.” He flexed his biceps again. You’re probably just under 150 ‘cuz you’re short, and you don’t have any muscles.” He pointed to Trent’s image in the photo.
“Hey, my shirt’s just hiding my arms.” Trent tugged at his long-sleeve jean shirt. “If I took this shirt off, we’d both be in t-shirts, and then…”
“Then we’d see how skinny your arms really are. Just leave it on, bud.”
Trent didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop examining the photo on the screen. Mack looked so good, the way his shirt rode up, and his Adonis belt disappeared into his baggy gray sweats. And the way his shirt strained over his muscles, and that coolly aloof expression. How was he single?
Mack’s eyes were glued to the screen too, but he was doing mental math. “According to the scale, that guy is three of us.”
“Huh?”
“It would take three of you and three of me to weigh as much as the fattest man is supposed to weigh.” He looked down at Trent’s trim waist and skinny legs. “He’s unrealistically huge, and you’re…”
“I get it,” Trent huffed. “Okay, wanna go get some food? And then we can see Bigfoot.” “Cool.”
The stripes, squiggles and spirals theme continued into the concessions area. There was a surprising number of different booths, each with different types of food and drink.
One had a bunch of different types of loaded fries. Another had hot dogs and brats with several fried sides. Trent’s eyes were pulled toward the one with deep fried Oreos and candy bars. Mack drifted toward the one with a milkshake machine.
Each booth’s sign and décor were as eye-searing and trippy as the building’s façade. Trent stepped up to the one labeled “You Love it Deep Fried!” The blue and purple squiggles on the sign seemed to bend and wave when he looked at it. God, he was hungry. But he wasn’t sure what he actually wanted. He pulled out his wallet and opened up his mouth to speak, and…
The clerk, a chubby kid who wasn’t nearly the size of the ticket scanner, was handing him his order. “Here’s your mega hash brown, sir. Enjoy.”
Trent robotically reached out and grabbed the wax paper wrapper. It had a black and yellow swirl that drew his eyes into the center. “When did I order…?”
Trent had to work to tear his eyes away from the colorful wrapper. He took a bite of the fried treat, and his eyes nearly rolled up in the back of his head. That was damn good. Perfectly salty and potato-y.
“Dude.” Mack snapped Trent back to reality. He was holding a big yellow cup. “Ready?” He jerked his head toward the doorway labeled “Land of Cryptids.”
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” The doorway turned out to lead to an elevator. As the elevator door opened, Trent took another bite of his snack, and Mack slurped on his milkshake. The moment the door closed behind them, the lights started flashing different colors. “Uh, I guess we'll get a mini light show while we’re in here,” he joked. And then the lights went out, and the elevator was plunged into darkness.
Trent paused, misstepped as he crossed the threshold into the hallway, and Mack nearly walked right into him.
“Move,” the taller young man said.
But Trent didn’t. Instead, he turned back to look at the inside of the elevator. When did the door open? He must have zoned out during the boring, uneventful elevator ride. As he finally moved enough to let his friend out of the elevator, he looked down at the untouched
fried snack in his hand. He took a bite of the giant hash brown, and his eyes nearly rolled up in the back of his head. That was damn good.
“Dude, how many calories is that?” Mack asked as if his milkshake wasn’t even worse. “We had lunch before we got here.”
“Look, I know I’m not as skinny as I used to be,” Trent snapped. “But I’m not counting calories on vacation.” Trent wasn’t big or anything. He just wasn’t a stick anymore like he’d been in school. He wondered why he’d worn these jeans today. He hardly had a belly, but the waistband dug into his middle.
Beside him, Mack hypocritically slurped his dense milkshake and gave an exaggerated sigh. “What flavor is that?” Trent asked. “Strawberry?”
“Duh.”
Mack had very specific tastes. Once he decided on a favorite flavor, that was his only flavor. Strawberry milkshakes were a weakness for him. He put a hand on his slightly soft middle. Those milkshakes were probably part of the reason he didn’t have a six-pack. He unconsciously flexed his arm muscles. He might not be lean, but he was built.
Trent reached toward his friend. “Can I have a taste?”
Mack snatched the cup away from Trent’s grasp and held it close to his chest. “No.” “Oh, come on. One sip.”
“Get your own. We’ll pass the concessions again later.”
“Fine,” Trent huffed. It was just for show. He knew how much his best friend loved a strawberry milkshake. He wasn’t actually surprised that Mack was getting possessive of the sweet treat. He resisted the urge to make a jab about how Mack should have fewer milkshakes if he didn’t want a huge gut. If he did that, Mack would just call attention to the fact that Trent’s belly was looking kinda round these days.
The Land of Cryptids was a long curving hallway that constantly sloped slightly downwards, gradually taking them back down from the second floor to the first. As they walked through the exhibits, Trent munched on the candy bar, and Mack slurped on his shake. There were
blurry bigfoot photos and a model of a yeti. There was a whole section for the Loch Ness Monster and other huge creatures that lived in the various lakes and seas of the world. Now this was the stupid shit they were here for.
Trent polished off the last bite of his snack. That really hit the spot. He went to throw the wrapper away, but the yellow and black swirl caught his eye again. He could swear it was twisting into a spiral that turned and turned and turned…
Trent felt pressure building up in his stomach, but then there was a ‘ping,’ and he felt better. “Dude,” Mack said. “You popped a button again.”
Trent blushed. He knew his jeans were getting tight, but he didn’t think they were that bad. But he’d gained a fair bit of weight since high school. He didn’t just have a belly. A soft roll drooped over the top half of his waistband. When his mom saw him before graduation, she had not so diplomatically said he was getting chunky.
Trent glanced at his taller friend. At least he wasn’t the only one who had sort of let himself go. As they walked through the rest of the hallway, Mack kept having to pull his t-shirt down in an unsuccessful attempt to cover the bottom of his own little belly.
After the duo passed a bunch of stuffed jackalopes, they found themselves back in the circular wax museum. On this side, there were replicas of the supposed bakers of the World’s Largest Pie. The two passed through the exhibits, checking out a few they hadn’t seen yet on their way toward the concessions and the entrances to the other wings.
Trent felt like he needed one more funny photo op before they moved on, although he was a little self-conscious about photos lately. He spotted one exhibit that they’d bypassed the first time. “Hey, we’ve gotta do that one,” he told Mack, pointing at an enormous wax figure that was supposedly on a scale. The sign had a cool, almost hypnotic spiral design.
“Dude. No.”
But Trent was not one to give up easily. The supposed Fattest Man Alive looked totally ridiculous. And he saw the perfect opportunity to pull Mack in. “That guy’s doing it.” The guy in question was a wavy-haired blond twink around their age who was there with his family. “He’s cute, right? Is he your type?”
Mack didn’t answer. The guy was pretty good-looking, but he was really, really skinny. Even if he was Mack’s type, the stocky jock wasn’t so confident ever since he had started putting on weight. But the blond was cocky with a toothy grin, and he held Mack’s eye as he posed next to the enormous wax figure. If the digital numbers on the wall were accurate, he was a tiny fraction of the fattest man’s weight.
“Fine,” Mack muttered. “Let’s do this.” He brushed past the blond twink as they traded places. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught the guy glancing back at him.
“Show off your muscles,” Trent said as he joined Mack on the platform. “Make it silly.”
Mack did not do silly. But he knew if he just flexed, Trent would probably find it hilarious. Especially if the pose made his gut stick out. That thought made Mack blush, but he hit the double-bicep pose anyway.
Trent eagerly hopped off the platform and stood behind the blond, waiting for his turn at the kiosk. Mack followed. He heard the twink say something about needing an afternoon snack. Once Trent had access to the screen, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Damn,” he murmured. “I forgot my jeans were unbuttoned.”
Mack peered over his friend’s shoulder. The unbuttoned jeans were barely noticeable. Trent was freaking out over nothing. His little gut mostly covered the front of the waistband anyway.
Mack was more concerned about the rather large strip of gut hanging out from under his shirt. It was pale and rounder than he had realized. “Shit,” he muttered. Then Mack’s eyes went to the digital number behind their slightly chubby forms. “Dude, we’re 432,” he said.
Trent was quick to dismiss it. “That’s both of us together. Sure, we’re not so small anymore, but that’s just college life catching up with us. It’s no biggie. Pun intended. At least we’ll never be like…” he gestured to the wax figure. “That.”
And with that, the two headed off toward the concessions. Mack’s stomach growled.
Mack stared at all the trippy signs, not wanting to choose. So many things looked good. Soft-serve ice cream and giant cookies and huge bags of candy… And then Trent was walking up to him holding a familiar yellow cup and what looked like a churro, and Mack
was holding a bag of Twizzlers in one hand and a sprinkle sugar cookie in the other. Weird. He must have zoned out waiting for his food. “What flavor?” Mack asked his shorter friend.
“Chocolate peanut butter,” Trent replied.
“Gross.”
Trent just laughed. How someone with such a sweet tooth didn’t like chocolate and peanut butter was beyond him. “Alright, where are we heading? Weird history? Hall of mirrors? Maze?”
The stocky jock shrugged and made a noncommittal noise as he took a big bite of his hot dog.
“Alright, weird history it is.”
The hall was pretty boring. There were a few wax figures, but it was mostly just pictures and plaques. Trent found his delicious churro and shake a lot more interesting than reading about a bear carrying ammunition in World War II. He opened up the lid of the shake and dipped the churro right in. There was one kind of interesting section on the history of optical illusions. It had a blurb about the Magic Eye picture craze in the 90s, and there was a huge Magic Eye poster on the wall.
“I never see it,” Mack told him.
“You just have to unfocus your eyes.” Trent took a few steps back and pulled Mack over to stand next to him. “Now, try to cross your eyes, and then completely relax your eyes. Don’t try to actually look at the picture.”
Mack humored his friend even though it never worked for him. He did his best to follow Trent’s instructions. The colors and squiggles started to blur, and he could almost see something. It sorta looked like…
“You saw it, right?” Trent asked as he shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. “It was an ice cream cone.”
Mack could swear he had seen something, but he didn’t think it was that. “Whatever you say.” He popped the last bite of his first cookie into his mouth and prepared to start the
second one. He let out a small belch and unsuccessfully tried to pull his shirt down. He wasn’t sure why he’d worn such an old shirt. It stretched around his love handles and left a fair amount of his lower belly exposed even when it wasn’t riding up.
Mack wasn’t the most in-shape guy, even if he did try to lift weights occasionally. He’d been stocky but fit as a teenager, but that had evaporated pretty quickly in college. He’d blown up pretty fast once he was living on campus.
At least he wasn’t alone. Trent’s belly was trying to escape his shirt too, and his jeans were painted onto his ass and thighs. The shorter guy stuffed some more fries into his mouth and took a step forward, and Mack heard a loud rip.
“Dude, you’ve got a hole in your jeans.”
“Mack,” Trent responded, “they’re ripped jeans. They’re supposed to have holes in them.” “Not right in the ass.”
Trent blushed and reached behind himself. The seam had pulled completely apart at the thickest part of his butt. He knew he’d put on some weight, but it was a lot worse than he thought. “It’s… not that noticeable, is it?”
“I can see what color undies you put on today.”
“We’re grown ups now. Just call them briefs.”
“Fine. I can see your red briefs.”
Trent started to panic, but then he caught sight of that Magic Eye picture again, and for some reason that calmed him down. “It’s… It’s fine. Right?”
Mack peered really hard at his friend. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
Trent breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. Let’s keep moving.”
Mack followed his friend, putting one thick thigh in front of the other. He kept having to pull at his sweats, which were riding down. He felt a bit self-conscious, but he still shamelessly took big bites of his second sugar cookie, quickly making it disappear.
Before long, they were back in the middle, walking between wax figures on their way back toward concessions to pick their next path. They had already seen most of the exhibits in the room, but one extra ridiculous one caught Trent’s eye. He felt like he’d seen it out of the corner of his eye, but he hadn’t really looked at it.
“Check that one out!” he said with a laugh, pointing to the Fattest Man Alive. We should get a picture next to him.”
“Dude. No.” Mack looked down at his flabby gut. Taking a photo like that would be a celebration of fatness. He wasn’t totally ashamed of his size, but he still hoped he could lose a few pounds at some point.
“Oh, come on. You’re no fun,” Trent whined. As he spoke, someone else stepped onto the platform for a photo. The digital scale readout blinked and changed from 0 to 187. “Hey, didn’t we see that guy earlier?”
Mack took a look at the blond guy as he stepped off the pedestal. His shirt was pretty tight around his slightly rounded midsection. Mack vaguely remembered seeing him elsewhere in the museum, or whatever this place was. He was kinda cute.
“Do it for me,” Trent pleaded. “If you do a muscle pose like you used to do in high school, it’ll be hilarious.”
Mack touched the bit of bare belly that stuck out from under his shirt. The things he did in the name of friendship. “Okay, but you’ve gotta hold your belly just like the statue guy.”
“That’s the spirit!”
The two did their photo op, and then they popped over to the kiosk to see the results. It was kinda funny. Mack’s muscle pose looked silly when his arm muscles were clearly covered in a layer of fat. And his shirt rose up to expose his belly button. Trent had a fair amount of visible belly, too. And his lower belly fat had pushed open his fly, revealing a sliver of his red briefs.
“Damn,” Mack breathed, looking at the number in the photo. “524.” He took a minute to do the mental math. “We’re half his size.”
Trent laughed it off. “Combined. And anyway, he’s not real. Can you imagine seeing someone who was actually that big?”
Mack shrugged. “Guess not.”
“Exactly. Now come on, let’s go do the maze.”
“Isn’t that just for the kids?”
“I hope not. I thought it sounded cool. The blacklight thing should make it more interesting.”
Trent led his friend into the concessions area. The plan was to just walk right through. After all, they had already stopped for snacks twice. Trent had gotten a giant hash brown and a milkshake and a churro and…
The crazy-colored signs stopped him in his tracks. It all looked so good. One more snack couldn’t hurt, right? He wasn’t exactly little. He had to feed the tank. He unconsciously patted his belly. Yeah, he could stand to eat a little more, especially if it was deep-fried…
Trent didn’t really have enough hands to carry the loaded fries, mozzarella sticks and extra-large soda he’d just been handed. He looked over and saw that Mack was having a similar issue with his apple hand pie, and king-size Snickers and his second strawberry milkshake of the afternoon. Well, they would find a way to make it work. Probably by scarfing some of their treats down before they moved on.
Mack pointed to some small tables on the side of the room. “Eat now, maze after?”
“You read my mind,” Trent replied. He followed behind Mack as his friend shifted his bulk and headed over to the nearest table. When Mack leaned slightly forward to set his things down, Trent said, “Whoa, man. Crack kills.” A rather large strip of the big guy’s wide rear was showing.
Mack half-heartedly tried to adjust his sweats, but it didn’t do much. His expansive backside blended right into his back fat and love handles, so his pants were always riding down. Ever since he passed 300 pounds, he’d stopped really caring how his pants fit.
Trent set his own things down, noting with amusement that even the little round tables matched the psychedelic swirl theme. As he settled his own hefty butt into the chair, he lamented that the seating wasn’t a little more accommodating for big guys. Not that he was as big as Mack, but he had an awful lot of weight in his lower midsection, specifically his lower belly and rear. As he sat down, his mostly exposed belly spilled into his lap. If he kept snacking like this, he’d be over 300 like his friend before he knew it.
The two didn’t talk much as they ate. Well, Mack was always quiet except for the loud sounds of munching and slurping, punctuated by the occasional belch. As Trent finished the last of his chicken fingers and set the empty tray on top of the empty fry tray, he wondered how he’d gotten into this cycle of overeating. Sure, he loved food, and he was partial toward anything fried, but he was already a big guy, and he was headed toward being massive if he didn’t do something soon.
Trent took a long swig of his soda, eyes still focused on the remains of his large snack. The swirls on the tabletop seemed to move under the empty tray. Purple and blue and green filled his vision.
Trent set down his cup and let out a loud, unselfconscious belch. Mack smirked. Trent looked again at the empty containers that had piled up on his side of the table: a fry tray and a chicken-finger tray and an onion ring tray. Whenever he thought about how much food he could eat, he felt a weird sense of pride. He grabbed his last treat, a deep-fried Oreo.
Mack slid his chairs back – one for each ass cheek – so he’d have room to stand up. He wondered why places like this insisted on such tiny chairs. Couldn’t anyone accommodate a 400-pound man? He put one hand on the table and braced one against the wall as he hefted himself up. “You ready?” he asked Trent.
Mack’s slightly smaller friend was still gaining his balance. Trent claimed that his ass and belly evened each other out, making it easier for him to move around. Mack thought Trent wobbled just as much as anyone who was north of 350. For half a second, Mack was surprised to see Trent’s bare arms. Wasn’t he wearing a long-sleeve shirt? But then he remembered. Trent had cut the sleeves off of that jean shirt ages ago when his arms stopped fitting in the sleeves. He liked that thing too much to get rid of it, even if it hardly even counted as a vest these days.
“Let’s go,” Trent said once they had cleaned up their very large mess. “Time to check out this maze.”
“It had better not be for kids, or we won’t fit,” Mack quipped.
Trent just chuckled, hiding his very real worry that Mack might get stuck somewhere in the dark maze. The taller guy was awfully big both back to front and side to side, so if there were any tight corners, it could pose a problem.
Trent found the entrance, a big black door labeled “Otherworldly Maze!” in neon pink, purple, and yellow-green. He opened it up, and sure enough, the other side was completely dark except for the blue-purple glow emitting from a few blacklights that illuminated small corners of the floor and ceiling. When the door closed behind Mack, they were shrouded in darkness except for the glow of their own clothes.
“You’re blue!” Trent laughed, pointing to Mack’s sweatpants, which glowed a faint blue, and his t-shirt, which looked almost cerulean. Of course, there was a huge gap between the garments where Mack’s belly spilled out of his shirt and covered almost the whole crotch of his pants. Trent’s own clothes looked almost black except for his jean shirt, which also glowed a faint blue.
Trent took the lead as always. The first section was easy. It was just there to acclimate them. There weren’t any dead ends, just corners that would take you by surprise if you weren’t carefully watching the glow of each blacklight to look for corners. But then it turned into a proper maze with multiple choices. Trent walked straight into a wall, and Mack’s soft belly bumped right into Trent’s plush lower back.
“Dude, watch it,” Mack said as if he wasn’t the one who had rear-ended the other.
After that, there wasn’t room for the two big guys to switch spots, so they just shuffled around in place, and Mack took the lead. He was more methodical than Trent, and they seemed to be making good progress. Just as Mack was wondering how much more maze there was, he wandered into a whole new section. Here, there were colorful neon spirals on the walls that glowed neon in the blacklight.
The wall designs should have made things easier since they made the walls more visible, but instead, they were disorienting. Mack would pass a green swirl and a pink one and belatedly realize that there might be an opening in the wall between them. And with nothing to look at except the vivid spirals, his eyes were playing tricks on him. At one point, he was
so focused on a spiral in front of him that he walked right into the wall. His expansive belly and massive moobs squished right into the spiral.
“Dead end,” Mack muttered. “You’ve gotta lead again.” He huffed and puffed as he turned himself around in a half-circle to follow Trent. He shuffled along with heavy footfalls. His hand unconsciously went up to one of his moobs. His shirt had rolled all the way up to expose them. He thought about trying to pull the too-small shirt down to at least cover his chest, but then he thought, nah. It was what it was.
Trent also felt disoriented by the colorful patterns in his field of vision. Every time he stared too long at one of the spirals, he felt a little slower and heavier. But that was just his imagination, of course. He was, after all, slow and heavy. He wasn’t getting hypnotized into thinking he couldn’t move fast, he was just 450 pounds. His movement was perfectly normal for his size.
Trent had honestly worried that the maze would be way too easy, but it was actually an interesting challenge. And not just because of his size. If anything, the place had done a good job of making the maze accommodating toward big guys like him and Mack. It never felt cramped except when they ran into a dead end and had to maneuver their combined hundreds of pounds of fat back toward the correct path.
“That was kind of awesome,” Trent said as he opened the door back into the side of the wax figure room. He shielded his eyes as he gingerly stepped back into the light. Well, as gingerly as a hefty guy like him could.
“Yeah. It was cool.” Mack had to pause, put his hand against the wall, and catch his breath as the door closed behind him. Only Trent could talk him into doing this much walking in a single day. He was not an active guy, to say the least. Mack took a good look at his more adventurous friend. “Dude, your moobs are out.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Trent laughed. He reached out and poked Mack’s exposed chest. “You never put those things away.”
Mack felt… something… when his friend touched his huge, heavy chest. His belly hung low, and his ass and thighs were thick and wide, and his arms were big and flabby, but his chest might be his favorite part of his size. Sure, the flab pushed out to the sides, getting in the way of his arms, but it was so soft and sensitive.
Mack pulled his hand away from the wall and psyched himself up to do some more walking. “Alright, let’s go.”
The two young men really took their time moving between the various exhibits. Trent always claimed he moved slowly because Mack got winded so easily, but Mack knew Trent couldn’t move fast if he tried.
“I’m glad that maze was fun,” Trent said, “because this room has been pretty disappointing. There’s nothing all that shocking.”
Mack nodded in agreement. “That one looks really dumb.” He pointed at the World’s Strongest Man, which was pretty huge but not weird or anything. A massively built shirtless man in ripped shorts stepped onto the pedestal next to the wax figure and effortlessly lifted the prop barbell.
“You’d think they’d exaggerate the proportions at least a little,” Trent agreed. He spotted a wax figure that he’d apparently missed until now. “And look at that one. It says Fattest Man Alive, but he’s just a little on the large side.”
Mack shook his head. The supposed scale readout on the wall said the guy was barely over a thousand pounds. That was the craziest number they could come up with? “Lame,” he said out loud.
But Mack’s attention stayed on the Fattest Man exhibit when a cute blond guy stepped up onto the empty pedestal for a photo. He was pretty small, barely 300 pounds, and only a bit of his belly was visible below the hem of his shirt, but at least the shirt was skin-tight. His belly jiggled an awful lot as he stepped down off the platform. Damn. Mack was starting to feel things.
“Let’s do that one,” Trent said, breaking Mack out of his reverie. “Just to show how stupid it is.”
“Dude. No.”
“Aww, why not?”
“Will we both fit?” It was a valid question. There was a circular railing around the platform. It might fit one regular-sized guy or a couple skinny guys, but two regular-sized guys was a stretch.
Trent looked up at the Fattest Man Alive sign with its familiar yellow and blue swirls. “We’ve gotta do it, man. We’ll fit.” He glanced dubiously at the small pedestal. “I think. Besides… Don't you want to show off?” He jerked his head toward the blond, who was heading to the photo kiosk but kept glancing in their direction.
Mack’s usually stoic face slid into a smirk. His hand unconsciously went to his round belly. He was probably the biggest guy in the room. He could show that little blond what a real man looked like. “Fine. Me first, then together.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Before Mack stepped up, he took another look at the wax figure. The guy was pretty big, just not unrealistically so. Whereas Mack and Trent’s guts covered their crotches, the Fattest Man’s belly covered his thighs. His moobs draped low and extended far to his sides in a way that made Mack jealous. His legs were a whole lot bigger than Mack’s, and even his neck was thicker. But he still felt like only a moderate exaggeration of Mack’s perfectly average body.
Mack sucked in his gut the best he could to get between the railings and onto the platform. It didn’t do much, but it was enough. Still the metal railings pressed into his gut and love handles as he passed through. Once he was fully on the platform, he let out a heavy sigh. As he put his arms down at his sides – well, as far down as they would go – his straining sleeves rolled up over the thick pudge of his flabby arms. At the same time, the hem of his shirt finished rolling all the way up over his chest, bunching up just below his neck.
Mack grabbed a moob in one hand and a handful of belly in the other. Those were the signs of a man who could eat. Once the photo snapped, he gestured for Trent to join him.
Mack watched his shorter friend make his way up the ramp, facing similar problems. Trent’s lower belly swayed side to side just a little with every step. He tried turning sideways to get past the railings, but the size of his round, partially exposed ass just made it worse. Although he weighed less than Mack, his fat pooled around the middle of his shorter frame, making him just as big around as the taller young man.
Mack tried to scoot back to make room for Trent, but his thick ass ran right into the railing behind him. As Trent put his full weight onto the platform, standing belly to belly with his friend, his whole front seemed to soften and droop just a little more. Trent did his best to rotate to face the camera, but it was tough work.
As Trent slowly turned himself around, Mack noticed just how many holes Trent had in his jeans. Sure, all of Trent’s jeans had holes where the seams were splitting apart, but Trent’s thighs looked like sausages that had popped big holes in the casings. Trent finally got himself repositioned, and Mack averted his eyes from the very large display of crack between Trent’s low-riding jeans and his tiny jean shirt/vest.
By the time the camera flashed, Trent’s partially bare ass was pressing right into the folds of Mack’s belly. Now they just had to get off of this stupid platform – it was definitely only made for one person – so they could see their photo. The only problem was, Trent was completely wedged in between the front railing and Mack’s round, squishy body.
“Suck in,” Trent instructed. “I can’t move.”
Mack didn’t think he had even another inch to back up, but he tried. The results were not pretty. He leaned back too far, nearly losing his balance. While most of his weight was in his front, his love handles, back fat, and upper arms were not lightweight. He raised his arms up, waving frantically to regain his balance. As he got back a little bit of stability, one of his hands grazed his moob, and it just stayed there. He started absently fondling his very large nipple. God, that felt good.
Meanwhile, Trent had a brainwave. He could use the railing and work with it instead of against it. He grabbed his expansive belly and hefted it as high as he could. On his third attempt, he managed to slide the lower roll of flab over the railing. That cleared several inches for him to step forward, leaning his bulk over the surprisingly sturdy metal rail.
Still draping his flab over the railing, he inched sideways, carefully sliding his bulk off of the platform. Soon he was standing on the little ramp, free from the confines of the pedestal. He wobbled his way forward, feeling his jiggly fat shake as usual.
Now Mack just had to get off the platform. He had gotten on, so he could get off. Right? But he could swear the railing closed tighter around his bulk than before. Weird. He got up to the front and braced his hand on the railing, turning slightly sideways. There was nothing
doing. The railing was going to seriously dig into both his belly and his love handle. Good thing he was so soft and squishy.
Mack huffed as he waddled down the ramp to catch up with his friend. The blond was done checking out his photo at the kiosk, and now he was not so subtly watching Mack and Trent as they made their way to the kiosk.
Mack wasn’t the only one who noticed. “The blond guy’s watching you,” Trent whispered. “He’s good-looking, right? Is he your type?”
“He’s kinda little,” Mack pointed out. The blond was barely over 300 pounds. Not skinny, but definitely on the smaller side.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ maybe you should give him your number. You never put yourself out there. What do you think? Would you date him?”
Maybe if the guy gained a couple hundred pounds, Mack thought. He just shrugged noncommittally. He made his way over to the kiosk and peered over Trent’s shoulder. “Damn. We look good.”
Trent had to agree. He had a sexy crease that went across the lower part of his belly, folding in at the navel. Mack loomed large behind him. The taller young man took up so much space. How was he single?
“Look at that,” Trent said, pointing to the digital number behind them. “1136. How are they gonna call that wax figure the fattest man if two regular guys are each more than half his size?”
Mack shook his head. “Beats me.”
“Alright, what next?” Trent asked. “We still have to do the mirror tunnel, right?” “Dude. That means more walking.”
“Yeah, that’s usually what you do in museums,” Trent responded.
Mack hefted his huge, jiggly belly. “Do I look like a guy who walks around all afternoon?”
“You look like a guy who sits around on his ass eating sweets. But I’ve gotta make sure you get out of the house sometimes.”
Mack gestured to their surroundings. They were definitely not in a house. “Mission accomplished. Now let’s go.”
Trent wouldn’t let it go. “Look, I’m feeling kinda winded too. Let’s sit down for a bit, and then we can decide.”
Mack knew better than to argue. Once Trent made up his mind, he wasn’t going to back down. And Mack did need to sit as soon as possible. He was not built for this much activity. Trent started shuffling toward the concessions area, and Mack followed behind. For once, they bypassed the food stands and went straight to the tables. One had bigger, sturdier chairs that felt made just for them.
Mack dropped his weight into the chair with a grunt. He was not standing up anytime soon. As usual, his belly engulfed his lap, and his huge chest sat heavily on his stomach. He absently rubbed the crease between his moob and his belly. Across from him, Trent took off his beanie and dabbed at his sweaty forehead. He wasn’t any more built for walking than Mack was, even if he pretended otherwise.
A loud belch tore through the room. Mack turned to see the cute blond, who wasn’t quite as small as Mack had thought before. He had some meat on his bones after all. His big, round belly was mostly exposed, as was only right for a bigger guy. And his pants were barely holding on over his thick thighs and massive ass. Mack felt a familiar stirring.
Trent smirked as he watched his friend get completely distracted by the heavy blond. “So you do have a type,” he chuckled.
Mack blushed, which was very uncharacteristic for him. He watched as the blond stood up and headed toward the entrance for the mirror tunnel. His eyes stayed on that fat ass as it swayed away.
Mack yawned. He’d done too much walking for his nearly 600-pound body. He heaved himself up, spreading his thick thighs wide and pushing off of the table. “Alright, let’s go. Dinner time.”
But Trent noted that his friend was still staring in the direction of the bottom-heavy blond. “Come on, big guy. We’ve gotta do the mirrors.”
“I thought we agreed this place was lame.” Mack took a couple small steps toward the main hall and the exit.
Trent wasn’t ready to give up. “So we have to end on a high note.” He brazenly slapped his friend’s belly, watching the ripples spread across the wide surface. “I’ll buy you a milkshake.”
Mack’s stomach growled. He looked back down at the table with its mesmerizing swirls…
Mack was sitting down, taking the last gulp of his strawberry milkshake. “Thanks again for the shake,” he said.
Trent mumbled something in response, but it was unintelligible because his mouth was full of funnel cake. He was pretty sure he’d gotten one of every fried treat they offered here. The two quickly polished off their small snacks and got ready for the final leg of the tour. They shuffled toward the door, moving slowly and deliberately. They both had a tendency to misjudge their size, knocking into chairs or trash cans with their hips or bellies.
The door led to an elevator that went one floor down. Apparently, they were serious when they called it a tunnel. Luckily, the elevator was plenty big enough for both of them. Mack glanced at the capacity out of habit. 2,500 pounds. They could fit one more regular-sized adult – or maybe two skinny ones – and be fine.
The elevator door opened into a brightly lit space that started as a relatively narrow space completely lined with mirrors before opening up into a wide space further ahead. Trent maneuvered himself out of the elevator, scooting one tree trunk thigh in front of the other. The first few mirrors were completely flat, just showing the pair of very round men ambling down the hallway. Then they got to the silly stuff.
Mack huffed a little chuckle when he saw himself with absurdly wide hips and a relatively narrow chest. The next mirror had a pretty much opposite shape, making his moobs look extra huge and his legs look impossibly skinny.
“Check this one out!” Trent laughed, pointing to a mirror that made their bodies look really compact with huge, stretched out heads.
The hall opened up into a larger space that split in two at the far end. The warped mirrors did all sorts of funny things to their reflections. On the other side of the rounded space, the blond from before was taking the lefthand path. Mack’s breath caught. That ass was so… big. The guy’s pants were fighting a losing battle. It was a great look on him.
Trent nudged his friend. “Wanna follow him?”
But not long after, they heard, “Ugh, dead end” from somewhere up ahead, and the blond came waddling back. He locked eyes with Mack, and then he looked down at Mack’s impressively large body. “Don’t bother trying to go that way,” he said. “It gets really narrow really fast. You would hardly fit.”
Mack took that as a compliment. He nodded and said, “Thanks.” The blond headed for the other path.
“That’s it?” Trent whispered. “Thanks?”
Mack tilted his head and shrugged.
That was not the right answer. Trent shooed his friend forward. “Go. Follow him.”
Mack did as instructed. It was useless to argue once Trent made a decision. Besides, Mack was more than happy to follow that perfectly wide, round ass. The only problem was, the blond was a bit smaller and a lot faster than Mack. Still, the huge, heavy guy moved as quickly as he was able.
Trent walked behind his friend, laughing internally at how relatively fast Mack could move with the right motivation. Usually, Trent only saw Mack go that fast if there was a promise of candy.
The path split again, and Trent heard a quiet “Shit” in front of him. Mack must have already lost track of the blond. “Go left,” Trent said. “The first path was right, so it’s probably not right again.”
They turned to the left, and Trent noticed that the mirrors on this path weren’t warped. They all looked flat. Trent gaped at his reflection. The first mirror showed him with his scruffy hair
looking all messy and no yellow beanie to be found. He frantically reached for his head to make sure his favorite hat was still in place. It was. What kind of crazy illusion was that?
Mack was looking at the mirrors on the other side, equally confused. One mirror showed him with a tattoo on his huge belly. At first, he thought the “tattoo” was drawn directly onto the mirror, but when he grabbed his gut and shook, the tattoo moved and wobbled. When he moved to the next mirror, the tattoo was gone.
Trent stared at a mirror trying to figure out what looked so weird about his reflection. Finally, it dawned on him. It made him look at least as tall as Mack, maybe an inch taller. That was weird. Right?
“Dude,” Mack called out, “this mirror makes my tits look extra huge. Like, extra extra.”
“Lemme see,” Trent said, turning around. But when he looked in the same mirror as Mack, he didn’t see anything weird. Sure, Mack’s chest fell over his belly in massive, heavy folds, but that wasn’t at all unusual. “Looks normal to me,” he told his friend. “What’s weird is…” He was about to say how weird it was that he looked taller than Mack, but he’d finally
beaten out his friend’s height when he had that late growth spurt senior year of high school. “What’s weird?” Mack asked.
“Huh?” Trent had forgotten what he was talking about. He looked around. “Shit. How did we not notice we were at a dead end?”
The two tall, obese young men slowly made their way back to the most recent split in the path. They paused to catch their breath. Maybe Mack had been onto something when he said they’d done enough walking for the afternoon. But it was too late to turn back.
This time, Trent took the lead. Thankfully, this section seemed to just snake around in curves rather than branching off. It had more of those seemingly plain mirrors that showed impossible illusions. One made Trent look shorter than his friend, although the next showed him several inches taller than Mack like normal. Trent loved how much his size – both height and width – made him stand out in a crowd.
One mirror somehow made their shirts disappear. Another made Trent’s belly look like it hung almost to his knees. That couldn’t be right. He reached under his belly just to make sure he could still reach the unbuttoned crotch of his pants. He could, just barely.
They came around a bend, and the next mirror really threw Trent for a loop. He looked… skinny. Utterly tiny. His shirt went all the way down his torso, covering his whole flat stomach. Who dressed like that? And yet, there was something oddly familiar about the image, something that tickled his brain.
Trent spotted Mack’s reflection in that mirror, and he really short-circuited. In the crazy warped reality of the mirror, Mack was… muscular. Like, with pecs and biceps and stuff. Just about the only part of the reflection that looked like the real Mack was the unruly black hair. Suddenly it hit him. He knew with absolute certainty that somewhere out there in the multiverse, there was a Mack who didn’t get big like a normal guy. A Mack who dieted to stay lean and who worked out every day. A Mack who only ate sweets when he was splurging.
And that Mack just might be friends with a stick-thin Trent who didn’t have an ounce of belly fat. Maybe there was a world out there where most guys just weren’t soft and fat. He wondered what that would feel like…
“Dude,” Mack said, breaking Trent out of his thoughts. “Check this out. I look huge.”
Trent turned to see the mirror Mack was looking at, and Mack did look huge. So did Trent. He laughed, and Mack gave him a questioning glance. What was more absurd, having a belly almost down to his knees, or having no belly at all? There was no question. Trent couldn’t imagine ever being skinny. He looked over at his best friend, whose belly and moobs took up most of his body. Mack, muscular? It was a crazy thought.
Trent shuffled forward to the next mirror. This one showed their bellies almost down to their knees too. It also showed them in shorts that were almost completely hidden by their bellies. Finally, they must be getting to the end of the mirror maze. They were back to mirrors that didn’t show any sort of warped reflection. They looked perfectly normal.
“Are we almost done?” Mack wheezed. “I’ve gotta sit.”
“I know, big guy, I know.” Trent really just called his friend ‘big guy’ out of habit. They were around the same size these days, and they were both a little above average. Trent was feeling winded too.
Trent turned and found another mirrored wall. It was another dead end. But then he noticed the elevator buttons. The elevator door was disguised as another mirror. Clever. He pushed the button.
Trent put his hands on his hips while they waited. Or rather, he rested his hands on his love handles. He didn’t really have anywhere else to put them. Mack’s hands found their way to his chest as usual. That was his default – subtly fondling his nipples and chest fat. The door opened, and they ambled inside.
The door opened upstairs in the wax figure room, and there was the handsome blond, not far away, leaning against the wall and catching his breath. Like Trent and Mack – like pretty much everyone – he needed an awful lot of breaks in between walking. He wore no shirt, of course, but he had a fanny pack strapped across his very wide torso. The strap dug into his back fat.
Mack paused to lean against the wall, but Trent whispered, “Go! Now’s your chance. Get his number.”
Mack knew Trent was right. He’d regret it if he didn’t say something. If there was ever a time to not be quiet, this was it. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the stranger. “Hey. Thanks for the advice downstairs.”
The blond turned to face him and took a long look up and down, taking in every bulge and curve. “You’re welcome. You definitely would have gotten stuck in that little hallway. You’re even bigger than I am.” The way he said it, it was obviously a massive compliment.
Mack blushed. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” Suddenly he wanted to back out. He was terrible at this. But then a huge, round belly appeared by his side.
“My friend is trying to ask for your number,” Trent told the blond.
Mack’s cheeks heated even more, and he rubbed his neck. “Yeah. You’re cute.”
A smile bloomed on the blond’s face. He reached his pudgy fingers into his fanny pack and pulled out his phone. “Type your number into my phone, and I’ll text you!” As Mack typed his number, the blond said, “I’m Evan.”
“Mack.”
“I can’t believe a hot guy like you noticed me, Mack.”
“You’re cute,” Mack repeated. “Seriously.” He patted Evan’s large belly. “You look like you can eat.”
Evan’s grin widened. “Hell yeah.” He took the phone back, checked the area code on Mack’s number, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I was afraid you’d be too far away to really see each other.”
The two talked a little more, with Trent respectfully staying much quieter than usual, but then Mack's stomach grumbled loudly. “I need dinner. Now.”
Evan nodded. “Go fill up the tank, big guy. I hope… Maybe I can eat with you sometime.” “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Evan waved goodbye, and Mack and Trent very slowly made their way out of the museum and back to their car. Well… SUV. Who was small enough to fit in a car?
They passed the ticket scanner out front. He was almost as big as Mack had been in high school. He had potential to get nice and huge in the next couple years.
“Did you have fun?” Trent asked.
“Yeah. It was fun. Except…”
“Except the Fattest Man Alive,” Trent finished. Mack nodded. “What was with that? He was barely bigger than you!”
“Right? There’s gotta be bigger people than that. I’m not that huge.”
