Zane was dreading it. He had a meeting with Coach about his bulking program. He was supposed to put on an additional 20 pounds but was having a hard time getting there. It seemed like no matter how much he ate, his body just burned it off. Not that he was complaining. His body had really solid muscle, which he enjoyed flexing from time to time. Despite only being 26, he felt like he had worked just as hard as the men in their 40s doing triathlons.
For whatever reason, though, he was told he needed more. The agreement, though, was if he didnāt do it within a couple months, Coach was going to step in. Now here he was, outside of Coachās home, not sure what he was prepared for. He knocked on the door.
After a couple seconds, Coach answered. He was an imposing man. At least 6ā 5ā, 300 pounds of absolute muscle, salt and pepper beard, and a look that could make a lion run the other way. He glared down at Zane, and all Zane could do was give a weak smile.
āIn. Now.ā Coach stepped aside, and Zane walked in, though he wondered if he could make a break for it. Coach closed the door behind. āI was really hoping it wasnāt going to come to this, but you didnāt do what was asked.ā
āCoach, I know, but āā
āStop. I donāt want to hear it. You know how important it is for you to be at your best performance, and this makes me wonder if I can trust you to get the job done. Can I?ā Coach was walking towards the back of his house but stopped and turned back at Zane.
āY-yes, of course! I donāt want to let you down!ā Zane said, feeling the need to salute but stopping himself before his arm had a chance to act.
āWeāll see. Follow me,ā Coach said as he turned and walked again. He went through a door, which Zane followed in behind him. Zaneās jaw almost hit the floor. Inside was more food than he could have imagined seeing outside of a buffet. The dining room they were in had a long, wooden table, with a dozen chairs seated around. It was loaded up with what felt like everything under the sun: steak, burgers, fries, tacos, burritos, pancakes, pizza, dinner rolls, cheese plates, sausages, and more that he couldnāt see.
āCoachā¦what is all this?ā Zane asked, confused.
āThis,ā Coach said, nodding towards the table, āis your dinner tonight. I told you to come hungry. You better have.ā Coach looked at him. Zane stared back, expecting this to be a joke. There was absolutely no way he could eat even a tenth of what was on the table.
āH-how much ofā¦this?ā Zane asked, crossing his fingers in his mind.
āI know you know the answer,ā Coach said. He grabbed Zane by the shoulders and guided him to the head of the table. āThe sooner you get started, the sooner you can be done.ā
āSir, Iām not a quitter, but āā
āNO, not at all! Itās just āā
āThen youāll get it done. And donāt worry, Iām here to make sure.ā
Zane opened his mouth to try to talk reason but it had started. Coach grabbed the first burger off the table and shoved it into Zaneās mouth. In his shock, Zane practically swallowed it whole, his brain not able to process what had happened. This, it looked like, was Coachās strategy. He picked up the pace. He forced Zane to sit down and then practically shoveled as much food as he could into Zaneās mouth. Despite Zaneās initial protests when he first walked in the room, he didnāt fight back. In fact, he was more in a state of shock.
āKeep it up, kiddo. Weāre just getting started,ā Coach said, continuing to force the food down Zaneās throat. Zaneās stomach was starting to balloon out, inflating out. Zane sat low enough that it had room below the table to grow, and grow it did. Zane grabbed it with his hands, feeling the pressure push back as he swallowed more and more food. His mind was swirling. One part of him was wanting to make it stop; to tell Coach he had enough. The other side of him, though, always wanted to smash a challenge, and this was something he had never done before. This part of him was adamant they had to see it through, and it was quieting the concerned side of him pretty easily.
The table started to tilt up. Nathanās belly was growing so rapidly and largely, it was already taking up all the space it could. Coach was prepared, though. He briefly stopped feeding Zane to pick up the table and shift it on its hindquarters onto the floor, making sure not to let any food slide. He looked at Zane and saw the furry orb of Zaneās stomach, eclipsing a yoga ball, bulging in various areas from the different foods within.
āThis will get you to your goal weight, thatās for sure,ā Coach said, patting the belly as he went back to feeding Zane. They continued for a while, the mound of food on the table getting smaller and smaller untilā¦
A loud roar burst from Zaneās mouth, his stomach deflating ever so slightly at the large air pocket escaping. Zane looked practically unrecognizable. His bulging muscles were still prominent, but they were practically hidden by the gargantuan gut occupying his space. Coach clapped him on the shoulder.
āAtta boy. Way to show your commitment,ā Coach said. āStill, thereās one more thingā¦ā
āWhat ā BURP ā is that?ā Zane asked. He was rubbing his stomach, not totally processing what he had just gone through. Coach had left the room, returning a couple moments later withā¦a guy? Who was this? The guy was tied up, hands bound behind him and his mouth covered. He looked a couple years younger than Zane, though he wasnāt anyone he recognized.
āThis,ā Coach said, marching the guy forward, āis someone who messed with the wrong house. Caught him breaking in. Went straight for my safe but didnāt realize I was home setting up for you.ā Zane looked at the guy. His eyes were wide, staring at Zane, at Coach, and at the belly sitting where the table was earlier. āYouāre going to help me deal with him.ā
āHow? I donāt think I can get up right now,ā Zane said, his stomach letting out a loud gurgle in agreement, or at least Zane thought it was.
āSimple. This trash is your dessert,ā Coach said, marching the guy forward. At this, the guy started panicking, totally confused on what was going on.
āWaitā¦what?ā Zane asked. He, too, wanted to know what was happening.
āOpen,ā Coach said, and Zane obliged. Coach threw the guy onto the top of the belly found, lined him up with Zaneās mouth, and started sending him down, feet first. Zaneās instincts kicked in and started to swallow, feeling the guy march his was down his throat. The guy started flailing, wanting to escape but Coach held him first at the shoulders and Zaneās throat had a grip on his legs. Coach pushed him further, watching as this intruder continued to disappear more and more. At the same time, Zaneās gut swelled more, helping Coach navigate the guy down, gravity getting a better hold on him. Finally, with just his head left, Coach gave a firm push and the intruder was gone. Zane gave a hearty swallow, and Coach watch the large lump travel down and disappear into the cavernous belly. Zaneās belly gave on more hearty bloat and settled, now full to capacity.
āAnd that, Zane, is how you bulk up,ā Coach said, patting Zaneās belly and admiring his work. Zane gave another long BUUUUUUUUUUUUURP, feeling the intruder struggle within him but only sealing his fate more as he was submerged under everything inside.
āThat program is no joke,ā Zane said, attempting a laugh.
āI save it for special occasions. Iām glad it wasnāt wasted on you. Now rest up. This thing has a long night ahead of it,ā Coach said, rubbing the belly boulder.
āYes sirā¦ā Zane said, still feeling his gluttonous high and not wanting to feel the pain he knew his stomach was in from everything. He rested his head on his belly, letting the gurgles and groans from within act as white noise as he snoozed off. With any luck, this would put him within shot of his 20-pound goal.
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