It had been one hundred years since a member of the Wright family had been in the same room as a Beckett boy: two cursed families battling on throughout the decades, undermining each other in business. Hating them was easy. For an entire century it had been said that a Wright should never trust a Beckett. As for the Becketts: well, they should never be made a fool of by a Wright. The fact that neither family liked the other was not really questioned; it was what it was. Until now.
Sean pulled up outside of the address he had been given and peered through the passenger window for any sign of his new travelling companion. Suddenly, the door opened and a young, tall, broad and handsome man came running down the steps carrying a large bag. He would have been the perfect figure of a man were it not of the small, hard-looking paunch he had around his middle.
Sean stepped out of his car and stood his ground. It was hard not to let old prejudices cloud his judgement. “I take it you’re James? James Beckett?” he asked suspiciously, as the good-looking man walked towards him.
“That’s right,” the man smiled, holding out his strong hand to shake. He certainly seemed a lot friendlier than Sean Wright had been expecting. “Nice to meet you properly Sean.”
Zach Beckett’s curse never made sense to him until the day he saw Mark: the guy who seemingly had it all. Mark was handsome, confident, with a killer body and could annihilate anyone at the gym. Even the personal trainers had never come across anyone so fit and capable. Guys looked up to him and girls hung on his every word; the most over-sexed man in town.
Zach however, had been forced to suffer his family’s curse for twenty five years, the school butter-ball, lardy and round, garnering no respect at all. He couldn’t even run a full lap around the track with his big, cumbersome, 360lb body. Still, he had suffered it, knowing that one day, his family’s curse would kick in. Now, at the age of twenty seven, he had finally shed most of it, sleeping his way around the city offloading it to whoever he wanted. He stood in the gym mirror, looking at his handsome face, his striking jawline and toned stomach without an inch of fat on it. Damn! It was worth the wait, he sighed, pleased with himself.
“No man, you’re position is wrong,” Mark cautioned Zach, whilst he was squatting. “Keep your neck up. Activate your core,” he nodded, patting his own chiselled stomach as if to demonstrate. Zach hated guys telling him what to do at the gym. The place was littered with egos; guys trying to out-do each other, analysing and nitpicking at everything the others did in order to make themselves look better. Stronger. Superior. Mark was the worst of them. He was the man around this gym; or so he thought.
Zach Beckett’s curse never made sense to him until the day he saw Mark: the guy who seemingly had it all. Mark was handsome, confident, with a killer body and could annihilate anyone at the gym. Even the personal trainers had never come across anyone so fit and capable. Guys looked up to him and girls hung on his every word; the most over-sexed man in town.
Zach however, had been forced to suffer his family’s curse for twenty five years, the school butter-ball, lardy and round, garnering no respect at all. He couldn’t even run a full lap around the track with his big, cumbersome, 360lb body. Still, he had suffered it, knowing that one day, his family’s curse would kick in. Now, at the age of twenty seven, he had finally shed most of it, sleeping his way around the city offloading it to whoever he wanted. He stood in the gym mirror, looking at his handsome face, his striking jawline and toned stomach without an inch of fat on it. Damn! It was worth the wait, he sighed, pleased with himself.
“No man, you’re position is wrong,” Mark cautioned Zach, whilst he was squatting. “Keep your neck up. Activate your core,” he nodded, patting his own chiselled stomach as if to demonstrate. Zach hated guys telling him what to do at the gym. The place was littered with egos; guys trying to out-do each other, analysing and nitpicking at everything the others did in order to make themselves look better. Stronger. Superior. Mark was the worst of them. He was the man around this gym; or so he thought.
Summary: Personal trainer Tom helps a college classmate—Bryce—lose weight. But after graduation, Tom struggles to practice what he once preached, and the effects start to show around his waistline.
Author’s Note: this is a role reversal story, so there will be weight loss. This story also discusses body image—so much so that it’s kind of a theme. Reader discretion is, accordingly, advised.
This is also another slow burn... sorry! It just happened!
~
October 13, 2021
Tom was having a hard time staying focused on his client. Poor Bryce was definitely trying, but his form was terrible, and he was taking too long between each set—and between each rep, for that matter.
“That’s, uh, eight,” Tom guessed. In truth, he’d lost count. “Two more.”
Bryce grunted as he struggled with the leg press. After he eked out the last two reps, Tom helped him push the foot platform back into place.
They were done for the day. In an ideal world, Tom would have taken him through at least another set of lower body exercises, but at 350 pounds (give or take), Bryce moved pretty slowly. The full hour had already been used up.
“Great work today, bud,” Tom said, giving Bryce an enthusiastic clap on the shoulder. And he really meant it: even if Bryce’s form sucked, and he couldn’t do that much, he was clearly pushing himself to his limits, and he kept coming back. He had a great attitude. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I just got the shit kicked out of me,” Bryce said, between gasps. “But in a good way.”
Tom smiled. Bryce was new to the gym world, but Tom had been an athlete since high school, and he knew the rush of post-workout endorphins better than anyone. It was easy to get hooked.
Bryce heaved himself out of the machine, his body wobbling as he came to a stand. He was fat everywhere: sure, he had thick man boobs, an enormous spare tire, and a huge ass; but even his calves and forearms were plump, and his fingers especially so. His face, red with exertion, was round and nondescript; a light-brown beard, short and scruffy, obscured what Tom assumed was a sizable double chin. His face was so chubby that Tom had no sense of his bone structure, but judging by his eyes, lips, and nose, Tom figured he was kind of handsome.
Bryce pushed back his hair, which fell wetly around his face, and pulled on a sweat-soaked reusable face mask, before retrieving a Lysol wipe to clean off the machine.
“Same time on Saturday?” Tom asked, tightening his own mask over the bridge of his nose as Bryce wiped down the hand grips.
“Actually, could we do Sunday?” Bryce said. “I was thinking I might come in on Friday, by myself, and I wanted a rest day before my next workout.”
Tom couldn’t have been prouder. Bryce was really committing to his program. “Sunday’s great,” he said.
Bryce finished his wipe-down, and they walked together towards the front of the gym, where the reception desk was positioned across from the entrance to the locker rooms.
“Thanks again for all your help,” Bryce said, as they sidestepped a particularly large powerlifter. “I’ve really learned a lot.”
“All part of the job,” Tom said. It wasn’t like he was helping Bryce out of the goodness of his heart—Bryce had been assigned to him by the campus gym, where he picked up shifts as a part-time trainer. It was really about the money. But Bryce’s earnestness made him feel a little guilty, and he resolved to pay closer attention during his next workout. Or at least to help him count his reps.
“I just can’t believe I gained so much weight during lockdown,” Bryce said. He gave an embarrassed smile. “And after.”
“That happened to everyone,” Tom said, trying to sound sympathetic. Of course, it hadn’t happened to him. The only weight he’d gained during lockdown had been muscle mass. But he definitely knew a few guys who had let themselves go over the past year and a half.
“It’s not like I was thin before, or anything. I mean, I weighed 250 last March. But I don’t know how I let myself pack on a hundred pounds in 14 months,” Bryce said, as they reached the front desk.
Tom resisted the urge to whistle. That was an enormous amount of weight. “Well, you’re here now, and you’re putting in the work to make a change.” He gestured to his own torso: “And if you keep at it, maybe someday you can look like this.”
Bryce chuckled. “Hah, yeah right. That’s a fun thought.”
It didn’t seem likely to Tom, either, but he wanted Bryce to stay positive. They were both the same height—about 5’11”, give or take—but their bodies stood in stark contrast, and it was difficult to imagine Bryce shedding enough blubber to match Tom’s godlike physique. No use reminding him of that, though. They said their goodbyes, and Bryce headed to the locker room.
Tom glanced at the time: half an hour before his next client. A nice chance to squeeze in a little extra cardio.
April 17, 2022
“Look at you, great form!” Tom said, as he watched Bryce deadlifting a fairly decent amount of weight. This time, he really meant it.
Bryce hadn’t needed a personal trainer since last semester, but Tom still made a point of offering a few encouraging words whenever their paths crossed at the gym. Which was fairly often, since Bryce had become a regular.
He finished his set, and turned to chat with Tom, who had just finished up on the rowing machine. “Thanks, Tom. I’m down almost 50 pounds now. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Tom smiled. It had been nice to get to know Bryce over the past year. They were both in the same faculty—engineering—and Tom vaguely remembered meeting him during orientation week. But Bryce had been much smaller, back then, and had since gotten his braces taken off. Add on the weight gain, and a little extra height, and Tom had completely forgotten their first meeting. But it eventually came back to him, as they bonded over stories of professors they’d both had.
Bryce was wearing his grey Starforce: Horizons t-shirt, which now fit him loosely. Tom had never expected to get into video games, but Bryce mentioned it so often, Tom eventually caved. After his first battle, he’d been hooked. He hadn’t worked up the courage to play online yet, but he’d played the campaign at least twice.
“My last exam is tomorrow,” Bryce said, as he wiped his face with a paper towel. “For Software Reliability and Testing.”
“Mine is Tuesday,” Tom said. “Advanced Structural Analysis. I’m not feeling great about it.” At least he already had a job lined up.
They chatted a bit about finals, and plans for after graduation. Both intended to stick around, and Tom’s office was close enough to his current apartment that he didn’t even have to move. Bryce had started to send out job applications, but without luck.
After finishing their respective workouts, Tom and Bryce said a fond goodbye, promising to stay in touch. Tom actually hoped they would, since Bryce had definitely grown on him over the past year. And, if they stayed in touch, Tom could keep Bryce committed to his goals. He’d enjoyed being a positive influence, and he wouldn’t mind keeping it up.
November 22, 2022
“Pass the orange chicken,” Tom said, gesturing with his chopsticks as he typed one-handed on his keyboard.
“You finished it,” Fadi said. He sounded a little disgruntled; not out of judgment, but because the large man most likely wanted it for himself.
“Wanna kill the Mongolian beef?” Brenna suggested, extending her arm to offer it to Tom without turning from her computer.
“Deal.” Tom accepted the carton, and paused his work to take a few bites. He’d been resistant to these working dinners at first, but he’d come around over the past few months. The team often had to work late for time-sensitive projects, so it was a good way to keep spirits high. He’d actually started looking forward to their takeout orders.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His office clothes were so constricting these days. Mongolian beef finished, he looked for a place on his desktop to put the empty container. There was a spot at the edge of his desk that seemed suitable, so he leaned forward to set it down.
And as he dropped back into his chair, he ripped the seat of his pants. He could feel the seam blow out as his ass spread out beneath him.
The colour drained from his face. Even if nobody had seen (or heard) it happen, Tom was humiliated. This was not a familiar experience. He was used to having a nice, solid ass, but it had gotten a little too thick and juicy over the past few months.
On graduation day, Tom had been a lean 187 pounds. As of that morning, he was up to 216. But it’s not like there weren’t good reasons.
First, there was Derek. They’d met on a hookup app a few weeks after Tom’s graduation, gotten serious over the summer, and split up at the beginning of October. But between the “getting serious” and the “splitting up”, Tom spent a lot of time eating out at restaurants, skipping the gym to meet up, and generally ignoring the steady increase in his weight.
On top of the relationship weight, there was his new job. The hours were less predictable than he’d realized, and there were often urgent assignments that required the whole team to stay late. It didn’t seem like a good sign that so much work was getting done at the last minute, but the even bigger problem was the effect on Tom’s daily routines. In college, he never struggled to find time to work out. But now, with 60-hour weeks not uncommon, fitting the gym into his schedule became a challenge.
Which led to the third culprit: Starforce: Horizons. Tom had gotten a little bit hooked since graduation. When he found himself with free time on the weekends, he skipped the gym with increasing regularity, opting instead to fight digital enemies. And since he’d bought the new DLC during the Steam Autumn Sale, he wasn’t sure if he’d have the willpower to change that any time soon.
In short, he didn’t feel too guilty about a few extra pounds. He could afford it: he was much thicker, sure, but he could still pass it off as bulking, with his healthy base of muscle underneath. He could credibly blame the day’s wardrobe malfunction on an intense leg day, even if the true culprit was an excess of orange chicken, and his leg days were getting less and less intense.
After finishing work, Tom tied his jacket around his waist and made his way out of the building, satisfied that he’d at least covered his exposed boxer shorts. He was approaching the bus stop when he saw a familiar figure waving at him. It was Bryce.
Tom cursed inwardly. Of course he’d run into his old fitness protege when he was at his fattest. “Bryce! How’s it going!”
Bryce beamed at him. He looked… great, actually. His hair was still long, but it had a little more shine and volume, and he’d trimmed his short beard, which seemed fuller and more deliberate. And his weight loss was dramatic—he was still a big guy, of course, but he made a very desirable bear: his shoulders were broad and muscular, and the softness of his chest didn’t take away from its obvious power.
He was also dressed well, in a well-fitting dress shirt and khaki pants, with a tidy jacket completing the look. “So good to see you, Tom,” Bryce said. “I feel bad for not keeping in touch!”
“No, it takes two,” Tom said, shaking his head. He really had meant to stay in closer contact with Bryce after graduation. “How’ve you been? You look awesome.”
“Thanks, you too,” Bryce said. He sounded genuine, although Tom didn’t believe him. “I’ve been good. Still working on the weight loss, thanks to you. And my new job is alright. I’m way overqualified, but it’s a foot in the door, at least.”
Bryce had really launched into it; Tom was surprised by his confidence. “Gotta start somewhere,” he said. “I feel like it’s tough to be new, in any job.” He was certainly experiencing some growing pains, himself.
“But you’ve been doing alright? I really do want to hang out sometime,” Bryce said. “I’d say over the long weekend, if I wasn’t going out of town.”
“Definitely. We could even do Starforce Online sometime, if that’s easier,” Tom countered.
“Oh, man, I haven’t even gotten the Revenge of the Imperium DLC yet,” Bryce said. “No spoilers. Maybe I’ll get it for Christmas. But yeah, we should definitely do something soon.”
Tom smiled, and agreed. His bus was pulling up, so they said their goodbyes. He couldn’t believe that Bryce would be waiting a whole month for Revenge of the Imperium; six months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to shut up about it!
As he stepped onto the bus, he reflected on the need to get his shit together. No more skipping the gym.
Right after Thanksgiving weekend… that’s when he’d start.
July 7, 2023
Tom bit into his cheeseburger, savouring the taste of the applewood smoked bacon and how it complimented the house burger sauce. His friends always complained about the food at O’Brien’s, but Tom thought they were too picky.
“Don’t install that patch, it’s unplayable,” he said, through a full mouth. He didn’t like to talk with his mouth full, but this was urgent: Brenna had mentioned a Starforce mod she’d heard about on Discord, but Tom had tried it out, and it crashed his game over and over again.
“Guys, no more Starforce,” Nils said, with his faint Norwegian accent. “I’m the only one who doesn’t play.”
“There’s an easy fix for that,” Fadi said. He turned and reached for one of Tom’s fries, but Tom smacked his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, how are you even still hungry?”
Tom felt heat in his cheeks. He’d actually already eaten an order of wings, but he’d seen a server pass by with a burger, and it had driven him to distraction.
“Leave him alone,” Brenna said, resting a tattooed hand on Tom’s shoulder protectively. Brenna was 29, and she once remarked that Tom reminded her of her little brother. They were roughly the same age, and upon seeing a picture, Tom was not shocked to discover that he was also fat.
“He’s the one who told us to hold him to his diet,” Fadi said, raising his own hands defensively. “Like, two days ago.”
“It’s true, I remember this,” Nils said, with a knowing nod.
“I didn’t say that,” Tom lied. “What I said was, ‘don’t let me pig out today.’ That was on Wednesday.”
“You definitely didn’t mention ‘today’,” Nils said. “You said, ‘you all need to stop me from making such a pig of myself.’ I assumed you meant in general.”
“Well, I meant on Wednesday,” Tom mumbled, embarrassed by the implication that he was currently making a pig of himself.
In truth, he had been making a pig of himself. His attempts to get back into his old diet and workout regimen had been disastrous. He made sporadic trips to the gym, but found himself increasingly frustrated by his loss of fitness. Exercises he used to do with ease had been getting harder, and he’d been lifting less and less weight as the months crept by. Rather than motivating him to work harder and recover his strength, Tom was growing more resentful as his weight increased. In school, he worked out every day. A year ago, it was three or four times a week. Now, he was lucky to get in an hour a week. And lately, a week sometimes passed without him going to the gym at all.
Eating better hadn’t panned out, either. Tom never used to be gluttonous; he always ate to live, balancing his macros to optimize his physique. But with the stress of his job, he slipped into a new habit: comfort eating.
It sort of crept up on him. It started with grazing on the leftovers after takeout dinners at work, to help him relax and focus. Then, he found himself picking up a complimentary donut or danish from the break room, when they were on offer (which was almost every day). Then, he was tossing the occasional bag of chips into his cart at the supermarket, and snacking on them at home. Then, the bag of chips made friends, and instead of an “occasional” thing, he started loading up on snack food every time he got groceries.
In just 15 months, his diet had gone totally off the rails, and his workouts had fallen off a cliff. Of course he was gaining weight: he’d never been hungrier or more sedentary in his life. And now, here he was, 265 pounds and eating his second dinner of the day.
“Did you mean every Wednesday, or just this Wednesday?” Nils asked, pulling Tom from his thoughts.
“Okay, no more talking about how fat I’ve gotten,” Tom said, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but it definitely came across that way, and he instantly regretted snapping.
“Uh, hey Tom,” Bryce said.
Tom hadn’t even realized he was standing there, but there he was, right next to their table. He wore an awkward smile. He’d definitely heard Tom’s last comment.
Tom took him in. He looked amazing. His hair was slightly longer than it had been, but it was glossy and full-bodied. He wasn’t just “kind of handsome”, as Tom expected he might be, he was downright hot: he’d shaved his beard down to a light coat of stubble, revealing a nice jaw and definite cheekbones. His tanned, dewy skin complemented his features. He was dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans, revealing strong arms and an average build.
Which meant that Tom was now far fatter than him.
“Hey, Bryce!” Tom said. He could feel himself blushing—of course Byrce appeared, at exactly this moment, looking like that. “How’s it going? Good to see you.”
Bryce’s smile didn’t falter. “I’m doing really good, thanks. It’s great to see you, too. I don’t mean to interrupt your night out, I just wanted to say hi.”
“No interruption at all. Hey, guys, Bryce and I went to school together, maybe he can join us?”
Tom’s friends nodded. “Please, tell us some embarrassing Tom stories,” Fadi said, gesturing to the space in the booth next to Tom.
“Unless you have plans,” Tom said.
“I’m actually early to meet somebody, so that sounds great,” Bryce said, sliding into the booth. “Please kick me out if I’m imposing.”
His voice was softer, lighter than Tom remembered. It was gayer. Tom found it endearing.
After introductions, the conversation turned to the origins of their relationship. Tom kept it vague, not wanting to embarrass Bryce. Or, himself, for that matter, since his history as a trainer might invite some unfortunate comparisons. Bryce kept it vague, too, and they landed on “old gym buddies”.
“You two must have made quite the pair,” Brenna said, with a smile. She took a sip of her IPA, which made Tom think about ordering one for himself.
“Yeah, this guy introduced me to Starforce,” Tom said. “So you can thank him for our little department-wide addiction.”
“Really? Tom got you guys into it, too?” Bryce asked, giving Tom an amused, sidelong glance.
Nils quickly commandeered the conversation before it could veer back into interstellar combat, asking about Bryce’s work. Apparently, he was not enjoying it—it was basically glorified tech-support, for which he was vastly overqualified. But he spoke excitedly about a video game idea he had, an RPG set in a cyberpunk dystopia, and Tom agreed with his friends that it sounded like a great concept.
After a little more chatting, Bryce checked his phone. “Oh, my date’s almost here, gotta run. But it was great to meet you all!”
Everyone said their goodbyes, and Tom got up to give Bryce a parting hug. Standing beside him, Tom couldn’t ignore the difference between their bodies. Tom had gone soft all over: his pecs had thickened and softened into a pair of plump moobs, his round, prominent belly spilled over his waistband, and a huge amount of weight had attached itself to his hips and thighs, widening them considerably and making his big, round ass bigger and rounder than ever. He’d grown his first stretch marks last fall, and the blubber on his thighs and ass started to dimple, slightly, not long after that. The loss of muscle mass made his fattening even more obvious. Bryce, on the other hand, looked downright lean, although it was hard to really tell through his loose-fitting clothes.
After Bryce left, Tom sat and stared at the empty basket in front of him, red plastic lined with grease- and sauce-stained paper.
“Aside from Tom, who else would join in if I ordered nachos?” Fadi asked, pointing around the table.
Tom suppressed a sigh. So, it was now a given that he would eat whatever was put in front of him. Fadi was definitely still bigger than him, but Tom was increasingly sharing in his status as a fat guy.
And, irritatingly, Fadi was right; Tom would definitely eat some nachos. He figured they might soothe him after his embarrassing encounter with Bryce.
November 10, 2023
“Mm, you look like you’re enjoying that,” Nolan said, in that sexy Irish accent of his, resting his chin in his hands. The look on his handsome face was hungry, but not for food. He tucked a lock of long, russet hair behind his ear.
Tom felt heat in his face as he chewed his cheeseburger. This was by far the strangest first date he’d ever been on. A few months ago, he’d updated the pictures on his dating profile. The ab pics in his Grindr gallery had become indefensible as his bulging belly ploughed further into his lap, his thickening boobs and juicy ass getting ever-more squeezable.
But his more honest approach to dating had an unexpected side effect: he was finding himself in the company of guys like Nolan. Guys who didn’t just tolerate Tom’s appetite, but actively appreciated it.
There had only been one other, in September—his first and only hookup since Derek. The guy, decently attractive, had taken him to a buffet, of all places, and it was awkward. He was clearly trying to get Tom to eat more, and Tom was having none of it. They did have sex, but they never saw each other again.
Tom still didn’t know how to feel about any of it. It was strange to think of himself as an object of desire for chubby chasers, but it was nice to be desired—he’d spent so much of the last year feeling un-desirable.
Nolan was certainly making him feel desired. He’d eaten about half of his own dinner, and he pushed his plate in Tom’s direction. Tom glanced down at it, knowing he would end up eating it all.
After finishing his dinner and Nolan’s, the two went back to Nolan’s apartment. It was tidy and spacious, a corporate short-term rental, and Tom looked around as Nolan poured them drinks.
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in some… dessert?” Nolan asked, as he handed Tom a glass.
Tom grinned, leaning close. “Yes, please.”
Nolan pulled away. “Great! I’ll go get it.”
Tom’s grin turned to a frown as he realized that Nolan was talking about a literal dessert. I walked right into that one, he thought.
Nolan emerged a few moments later with a (relatively) small cheesecake. It had already been cut into eighths, and melted chocolate had solidified into a tantalizing drizzle around its perimeter. Tom was full from so much dinner, but the sight of it made his mouth water.
“Sit down,” Nolan said, balancing the tray in one hand as he led Tom to the couch.
Tom complied. He expected Nolan to put the cake on the coffee table and go back for plates and forks, but instead, he seated himself next to Tom and removed the plastic lid.
“You should take your shirt off,” he said. “This might get a bit messy.”
Tom blinked at him. He looked from Nolan’s face to the cake and back, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
Moving the tray to the coffee table, Nolan started undoing Tom’s shirt buttons for him. The action made Tom realize how much those buttons were straining; now that he was seated, he could see that it was worse than he realized. The shirtfront practically sprung apart when Nolan released the buttons. It was a bit embarrassing, given that he’d specifically chosen his loosest shirt.
His cock twitched, his erection now poking against his pants. Nolan kissed Tom’s neck as he finished unbuttoning the shirt, and Tom shrugged out of it to ease Nolan’s access. After a few kisses on Tom’s neck, Tom whispered: “Your turn.”
Nolan pulled back, removing his t-shirt and exposing his trim figure. Looking at the two naked torsos, Tom felt enormous… but not in a way that he hated.
Nolan leaned over and lifted the tray of cheesecake, and Tom sighed quietly as Nolan picked up a slice with his fingers. Am I seriously doing this? he thought. He looked down at his exposed torso. Soft, pale, hairy flesh, covered with stretchmarks… a round belly that pooled out in front of him, love handles that spilled over his waistband, puffy nipples poking out from budding breasts. And his cock twitched again, aching with desire.
He opened his mouth. Nolan fed him a big bite. Tom barely had time to chew before Nolan was going back again, and again. The whole piece disappeared, and he picked up a second before Tom could object.
It went on. Tom kept eating. Nolan kept feeding him, by hand, until half the cake had vanished.
Tom was breathing heavily, and he could feel beads of perspiration on his face from so much rich food. Nolan was massaging Tom’s belly, carefully pressing in just the right ways, at just the right places. Tom was rock hard, and he could feel pre-cum leaking into his underwear. “I’m so full,” he whined.
Nolan reached under Tom’s belly and located the groaning button of his pants. He felt so much better when Nolan released it.
He didn’t stop with the button—he undid Tom’s fly, and then reached under his belly once more to pull down the waistband of Tom’s underwear. “This good?” he asked, as Tom tried to catch his breath.
It was so good. Tom nodded, biting his lip, and Nolan wrapped his fingers around Tom’s cock. “Fuck yeah,” Tom murmured, as Nolan started to squeeze.
He thought the “feeding” portion of the evening was over, but Nolan reached over and picked up another piece of cake. “Just a little more,” he said. He wasn’t jerking Tom off, just holding Tom’s dick in his hand, while the other held the cake next to Tom’s mouth.
Nolan was so hot, and Tom just wanted to come, so he took a big bite. That earned him a few strokes, but it was just teasing—he was so close to coming, but Nolan wasn’t quite bringing him over the finish line. Just edging him mercilessly. With cake.
Nolan balanced himself on Tom’s thigh, close enough that his lean torso pressed against Tom’s swollen belly. Every bite of cake was rewarded with a few jerks.
“You’re so good at this,” Nolan whispered, before nibbling at Tom’s ear lobe. “A natural.”
In spite of himself, Tom whined with pleasure. He was beyond reason; the sheer, intense pleasure of the moment had replaced any inhibition he might have felt. He wanted Nolan. He wanted the cake. And holy fuck did he want to come.
So he kept eating. But Nolan had taken his hand off Tom’s dick and directed it back to Tom’s belly. Honestly, though, it didn’t seem to make much of a difference—the pleasure he was getting from Nolan’s skillful rubbing seemed directly connected to his arousal. He wondered if he might come just from this.
Nolan reached for another, but Tom put his hand on Nolan’s wrist. “I’m good, for now,” he said, softly.
Nolan nodded and turned his attention back to Tom. His left hand was covered in cheesecake, which he rubbed into Tom’s belly, while his right hand worked Tom’s shaft. He backed off from his perch on Tom’s leg, positioning himself on the ground between Tom’s knees. “Now, are you ready for real dessert?”
Tom nodded. “I’m not gonna last long,” he warned, as Nolan’s lips glided down his length.
He really didn’t. Between the feeling of Nolan’s fingers on his abdomen, and Nolan’s lips on his dick, and the incredible, pleasurable fullness in his gut, he shot his load in seconds, coming like a torrent as electric jolts of pleasure pinballed through his nervous system.
After a lengthy, blissful orgasm from Tom, Nolan pulled back, licking his lips. Tom looked down at him over the curve of his cake-streaked paunch; he was fucking gorgeous. But I’m definitely not doing that again, Tom thought.
February 5, 2024
ERR.
Tom exhaled, and stepped back onto the bathroom scale. Come on, come the fuck on… he thought, hoped, prayed. He waited.
ERR.
He’d maxed it out. He had exceeded the weight limit of his goddamn scale. The digital scale that went up to 300 pounds.
His large stomach flipped. Fucking fuck! He yelled, internally. How did he let this happen?
Automatically, he blamed Nolan. That little bastard seemed to love feeding Tom bigger and fatter, piling blubber onto his body until he became even more unrecognizable from the jock he had once been.
But even without Nolan’s help, Tom knew his eating habits had only spiralled further out of control. His solution to even the slightest emotional disturbance, no matter how trifling, was to find something to stuff in his face. I’m already fat, so what does it even matter, he’d think, as he shovelled chips and cookies and pizza into his mouth.
Which is how he spent a lot of his time. In fact, he so excelled at eating that he no longer knew his own weight, because he’d eaten himself beyond the limits of his scale’s capacity for accurate measurement.
He planted his hands on the bathroom counter, looking in the mirror. He was stark naked, and the way he leaned forward forced the accumulated fat around his torso to pool out below him, gravity tugging his gut and tits downwards. God, they’ve gotten so big and soft. He couldn’t even see his dick behind the slope of his belly—although it was hard, now, in spite of himself. Stretchmarks had appeared all over his body: at his sides, under his arms, on his ass and legs, and especially around his belly. Even with his increasing hairiness, they were obvious.
Looking up, he studied his face: his neck was thick, and quickly giving way to his large double chin. His jaw had lost all definition, and his stubble did little to hide that fact. He looked like a completely different person.
He stood up straight, grabbing one of his moobs in his hand and hefting it. He searched for his pectorals underneath all the flab, but found no trace of what had once been one of his best features. It was like he had no pecs at all, anymore; just a pair of big, fat boobs that gave way beneath his probing fingers. Even his nipples had stretched and grown.
As he squeezed, he felt his annoyance start to subside. Gently, he cupped his other breast, so that both of them were squeezed in his hands. He pressed them into cleavage, pushing them forward, stunned at how round and full they looked. Without context, they looked like actual breasts.
Tom released his tits and let his hands slip down his sides, trailing over the thick curve of his meaty love handles. He gripped them with his fingers and bounced them, watching, entranced, at the way his whole body quivered and wobbled. It reminded him of wave theory, fluid dynamics—the motion spreading across his bulky frame in ripples.
Slowly, Tom spun around, craning over his shoulder as much as his fat neck would allow to look at the size of his ass. The thing was fucking colossal. His gut was big, sure, but it was eclipsed by his dump truck. Each stretch-marked cheek seemed to slope outwards forever, turning his buttocks into a shelf behind him.
He lifted himself up onto his tiptoes, and then dropped his weight back down, alarmed at the way the whole room seemed to shake. His ass bounced and wobbled, free and unrestrained by any sort of covering.
He plodded into his bedroom to start dressing for work. His boxer-briefs were fairly new, but his backside had grown so fat, so fast, that they now pulled across his butt tautly enough to resemble pantyhose, the fabric stretched to near transparency.
“Mm, aren’t you looking particularly fuckable this morning?” Nolan said, rolling over and rubbing the space next to him in bed.
“I’m not in the mood,” Tom grumbled. He rifled through his closet, pushing aside a mass of undersized clothes.
“Aw, what’s wrong, butterbean?” Nolan asked, giving Tom his best pout.
Even in the adorable accent, the nickname made Tom frown. “I’m getting too fat,” he said. “You’re making me too fat.” He pulled on a collared shirt, tugging the front together so he could start to button it. The cotton strained across his chest, and strained even more as he started on the buttons over his belly.
“I’m not ‘making’ you anything,” Nolan said. His expression was calm. “You’re a big lad who likes to eat, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Tom sucked in as hard as he could, and he managed to get to buttons through their holes, but the fabric pinched and wrinkled around each one, and the fabric pulled apart wherever there was no button to force it together. He glared at Nolan as he went.
It was way too tight, but he’d gone to work wearing tighter, and he didn’t think any of his other shirts would fit him any better. That one was usually the loosest. He’d bought it loose, to disguise his extra pudge while he lost weight. He could still remember what a relief it had been when he first bought it, how much spare material billowed around him the first time he put it on. Not anymore.
“You want me fat, though,” Tom said, accusingly, as he started to tug on a pair of pants. The resistance increased as he forced his thick thighs into each pant leg.
“Of course I do,” Nolan said, he flipped onto his stomach so his pert ass was in the air, and he kicked his legs back and forth in the air, chin resting in his hands. “You make the most fuckable fat boy.”
Tom blushed bright red. Whenever he started getting embarrassed or feeling too big, Nolan went and said something like that, and he got all horny about it. He kept pulling on his pants, dragging them up his legs uneasily; they squeezed his flabby thighs and stretched precariously across the curve of his butt. Inhaling so sharply his face contorted, Tom managed to close the top button. It was a tight fit, but he figured they’d hold.
“So are you going to stop fattening me up?” Tom asked, crossing his arms. He looked in the mirror. He looked like he could burst out of his clothes at any moment. He looked completely, irremediably obese, every stitch of fabric on his body clinging on for dear life. He felt unprofessional, but he could hide his gaping buttons with a sweater, and by now, his coworkers were used to him growing out of his wardrobe.
“I mean, honestly, probably not,” Nolan said, with a shit-eating grin. “But would you actually want me to stop? Or to help you diet?”
Tom sighed, fixing up his short, dark hair before turning to his facial hair. He locked eyes with Nolan through the mirror, and sighed. He didn’t want to diet. Getting fed by Nolan made him horny as fuck. “Fine. But you better buy me new clothes when I outgrow these.”
“You outgrew them last week, porkchop,” Nolan said, with a wry smile.
Once he finished getting ready, Tom made his way to his building’s parking garage. Since he got a car, he’d all but given up on taking the bus. He used to walk miles with ease, but now he preferred to drive even short distances. His office was only a 5-minute drive, but he left a little early to get some breakfast sandwiches on the way.
“We’re having cake today for Nils’s birthday,” Brenna announced, after Tom had settled in at the office.
“Even though I do not eat cake,” Nils said, crossing his wiry arms.
“Well some of us do,” Fadi said. He turned to Tom for backup, and Tom nodded in agreement.
After the mid-morning break for Nils’ birthday cake, Tom helped himself to another slice. Well, ‘slice’ was understating it; it was more of a wedge, really, or a chunk. Much of it he devoured before he returned to his desk, and he grazed on the rest until lunchtime, when he decided to drive a few blocks over to get some proper food.
Tom parked in front of a gym that was located, somewhat maliciously, next door to the Taco Bell where he planned on eating. It wasn’t his gym, anyway, and he’d gotten quite good at ignoring the hard-bodied hunks as he walked from his car. His eyes were locked straight ahead as he passed Fitness Empire, and they would have stayed that way if he hadn’t felt a tap on his shoulder.
The guy’s body was the first thing Tom saw. He was dressed scantily for the biting February cold, wearing nothing but a small, meshy tank top and a pair of short-shorts that showed off strong, powerful thighs. A gym bag was slung cross-body over his brawny shoulders.
Then, he saw the guy’s face. It was Bryce. His skin was luminous, and his clean shave showed off his angular jaw. His chestnut hair was even longer now, falling around his shoulders, but it was bouncier and shinier than ever. He also sported an eyebrow piercing, and appeared to be wearing a little lip gloss.
“Ohmigod, Tom!” Bryce said, with a grin. “Good to see you!” He pulled Tom into a hug, and Tom felt a weird mix of emotions at the way Bryce’s taut body sunk into his much fleshier one. After the initial surprise, Tom wondered what that hug would feel like if he wasn’t wearing such a thick parka. Of course, then there would be no hiding the true extent of his awesome weight gain….
“Oh, uh, you too,” he said.
“I’d been meaning to message you, I just assumed you’d be busy,” Bryce said. His breath was steaming in the air, and Tom wanted to get him out of the cold.
“Definitely not too busy to catch up,” Tom said. “Listen, you must be freezing, did you want to get lunch with me?” He gestured to Taco Bell.
“Um, I actually have a shift,” Bryce said, pointing to the gym. “New job. No more tech support.”
Tom’s jaw dropped. “So you’re…”
“A trainer now!” Bryce grinned. “You really inspired me. I thought, ‘I want to help people like Tom.’” Bryce froze, seeming to realize the irony a moment too late.
It wasn’t lost on Tom, either: he couldn’t even help himself, these days, other than to help himself to another snack. His cheeks were hot despite the weather.
Bryce went on, changing the subject. “Have you ever been in here, by the way? I think you’d really like it, the equipment—”
Tom cut in: “I actually haven’t worked out in a while. As you can probably tell.”
Bryce considered this, looking Tom over with an appraising nod. “Well, I could probably get you a friends and family rate if you wanted to join up,” he said. “You were such a great athlete, I bet it would come right back to you.”
Tom doubted it, as he reflected on how desperately out-of-shape he now was. But then, it could be an opportunity to spend some more time with Bryce. “Maybe… maybe you could train me.”
Bryce grinned from ear to ear. “Of course!”
Bryce committed to booking Tom a 10 AM session for that Saturday, and they said their goodbyes. Satisfied that he’d taken control of his life, and with physical fitness once more within his reach, Tom made his way into Taco Bell, where he decided to add an extra Crunch Wrap Supreme to his regular order.
May 19, 2024
“It’s just so unfair,” Tom said, between sobs and mouthfuls of Rocky Road ice cream.
“Don’t cry,” Bryce said, as he traced soothing circles across Tom’s broad, fleshy back.
“I gained so much fucking relationship weight, and now he’s just gone?” Tom said. He shoveled another heaping spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
“Shh, don’t say that,” Bryce cooed. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
Tom’s spoon hit the bottom of the carton, so he tipped it into his mouth and drank the melted remnants. He tossed it on his living room floor, where it joined four empty friends, and forced out a painful, guttural belch as his stomach roiled against 5,000 calories of ice cream.
But he wasn’t done. There was one pint left, beading with condensation on the coffee table, and he snatched it up without hesitation. He peeled black the plastic covering under the lid to find it semi-melted, but that just made it easier to eat.
This was his second day of post-breakup binging. The first day had seen him plough through approximately 11,000 calories’ worth of burgers, chicken fingers, pizza, french fries, cheesecake, soda, milkshake, chips, snack cakes, pastries, and cookies… and a half-litre of coffee cream that had been unlucky enough to find itself in Tom’s way. His stomach had been agonizingly full by the time he drifted into restless sleep, but at least the physical discomfort distracted him from Nolan’s unexpected departure.
After three months as boyfriends, Tom would have expected Nolan to tell him that his contract had a fixed end-date. But he didn’t, until a week before his flight back to Dublin. Tom had offered to try long-distance, but neither of them really wanted that.
Which meant that all 330-something pounds of Tom was now single. Nolan had at least lived up to his word, and kept Tom in fitting clothes for the duration of their relationship. As nice as it was to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt that actually fit him, rather than bulging out of undersized clothes, he was still wracked with apprehension about his return to single life.
Bryce had suggested that a workout might make Tom feel better, but Tom couldn’t have agreed less. All he wanted to do was gorge and play Starforce and vent to Bryce about how horrible men were.
Bryce had been kind enough to oblige, and, instead of their planned training session, he arrived at Tom’s front door, offering a (very muscular) shoulder to cry on. He hadn’t tried to dissuade Tom from devouring pint after pint of Häagen-Dasz, although he did seem a bit surprised by how much ice cream he was steadily putting away.
“I don’t even know what I’m gonna do, now,” Tom said. He grabbed another spoonful of ice cream. “Ugh, I’m gonna have to update my dating profiles again.”
“That could be fun,” Bryce said. “Maybe a little photo shoot would cheer you up?”
Tom shook his head; his face was puffier than usual from crying, and he was enormously bloated after so much dairy. “It’s probably time for me to try one of those feeder sites,” he said, resignedly. “Grommr, or whatever.”
Bryce blinked at him. “You know about Grommr?”
Tom nodded. “Of course. Wait, you do too?”
Bryce gave a nervous chuckle, and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Um, guys used to tell me to sign up there when I was fat, but I never did. I wasn’t really into that side of things.”
Tom didn’t know what Bryce meant by that side of things, but he was too preoccupied to ask. “I’d probably do okay there,” he said, as much to himself as to Bryce. “I could post pictures of what I used to look like. Tell everyone I used to be a personal trainer.”
Bryce squirmed. “You’d really do that?”
Tom shrugged. That sort of public acknowledgment of his enormous weight gain would have been unthinkable a year ago, but being with Nolan had made him realize the pointlessness of denying his new size. Weight loss slipped from a priority to a distant goal over the course of his relationship, as he realized that fat was a turn on for some people—including, increasingly, for him. He was a really big guy, now, and he had to work with that. “Yeah, maybe.” He downed some more ice cream.
“So are you, like, a gainer?” Bryce asked. His eyes were wide and bright.
Tom shrugged again. He wasn’t ready to admit to Bryce just how sexy he’d started to find his feedings with Nolan. “I don’t even know what I am. I’m a big boy, and I’m probably gonna stay that way.”
Bryce nodded, considering this. “I think that’s a really good attitude. Healthy.”
Tom smiled at him, but felt a pang of guilt. Bryce was so accepting of him. It made him wish he had been more empathetic when he was Bryce’s trainer. Instead of following along as Bryce changed himself, why didn’t Tom try to help him find self-acceptance? “I—I wish I had been a better friend to you. When we were in school,” he said.
Bryce blinked back at him. “You were a really good friend to me.”
Tom shook his head. “No. The whole time I was training you, I never once asked why you wanted to lose weight. I didn’t make sure you were in it for the right reasons.”
Bryce put his hand on Tom’s forearm. “You’re really sweet. It wasn’t that I didn’t accept myself, I just… I don’t know. Once I started working out, I really liked it. And the weight loss went so well, I just kept it up.”
“But you had surgery,” Tom pointed out. “For your skin.”
Bryce sighed, slightly. “Okay, I admit it, that was vanity. But the rest of it… I don’t know. I didn’t hate being fat. I just like being fit, and I like how I look now.”
Tom slurped up some more ice cream as he pondered Bryce’s words. “So would you be upset if you gained weight again?”
Bryce hesitated, rubbing his strong chin. “I don’t think so. I’d probably miss being a lil’ twink that guys can throw around. But there’s nothing wrong with having a bigger body.”
Tom’s stomach chose that moment to register a loud protest, and he tried to soothe it with a rub. But Nolan’s hands were so much better at that….
He thought about Bryce as a little twink who could be thrown around by a larger, burlier man. A man like, say, Tom.
His stomach gurgled again. “You’ve gotta rub it right,” Bryce said, smirking at him. He held out a hand. “Can I?”
Tom froze, struggling to keep his jaw from dropping. Bryce, his gym buddy-turned-personal trainer, wanted to rub his big, round paunch? He could only nod, unable to form words.
Bryce’s fingers got to work immediately, and the relief was instant. He really knew what he was doing—plunging into the flab in just the right way to massage Tom’s aching stomach. After months of conditioning, he felt himself starting to get hard from the action.
“I used to do this on myself, during Covid,” Bryce said. He kept the motion going, and Tom squirmed pleasurably in his seat. “After a few too many bags of chips during Starforce marathons.”
“At least you had the pandemic as an excuse,” Tom mumbled.
“You don’t need an excuse to eat,” Bryce said, shaking his head.
“I certainly—” Bryce hadn’t let up with the rubbing, and he goaded a long belch out of Tom. He reddened a little, but they both chuckled. “Certainly don’t,” Tom continued, undeterred.
Bryce chuckled again. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” Tom tilted the ice cream carton back and swallowed the last few melted mouthfuls. When he was finished, he turned back to Bryce. “By the way, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea from what I said about joining Grommr. I still want to lose weight.”
“Of course,” Bryce said, pulling his hand away from Tom’s gut. “So, are you coming to our session at the gym tomorrow?”
Tom groaned inwardly. As much as he didn’t feel like working out, he knew it was probably good for him. And anyway, another day with Bryce sounded like fun.
August 25, 2024
“Um, so that’s… eight,” Bryce said. He didn’t sound particularly confident, but Tom had to trust him; he was so exhausted he’d lost count. “Two more and you’re done.”
Tom used to love the leg press. He liked feeling the burn as he pushed away hundreds of pounds with ease. He loved the way his steely thighs popped and rippled so perfectly after a great leg day. Now, he couldn’t wait to get off that damn machine.
“Watch your form, big guy,” Bryce said. Tom nearly cringed: watch your form; he’d used that very same line, countless times, when Bryce was getting sloppy. Now he was the sloppy one, with Bryce using what he’d learned to correct him.
His legs were trembling as he pushed the weight back for the final time. Bryce helped him push the platform back all the way, his biceps bulging, and then locked it in place.
“I can’t do any more today,” Tom said. He folded his arms. It had been all of 40 minutes. He was a little mortified, and also a little turned on. He blamed his most recent ex-boyfriend for those crossed wires in his brain—even though, months later, he still hadn’t managed to uncross them.
Bryce must have sensed his embarrassment, although Tom was fairly sure that his huge gut hid his arousal. “Hey, that’s alright,” he said. “Nice work today.” His tone was unconvincing, but his smile was as genuine as ever.
His authentic kindness made it even worse. Even now, Bryce was still grateful to him. He was patronizing Tom, but it was out of affection, maybe even admiration, not pity or condescension. Even now, after seven months of workouts that had only gotten worse, Bryce was still nothing but patient with him.
It made Tom feel a little guilty. He knew he’d been slacking—his sessions had dwindled to once every two weeks, at the very most, and he wasn’t exactly “active” on his own time. Add in his out-of-control diet, which piled ever more weight on his increasingly cumbersome body, and his athletic performance had never been worse. Five years ago, he quite successfully ran a marathon. Today, a few minutes of walking on the treadmill left him winded and sweating.
And fuck, the mortification of being so unfit only excited him! Posts about his disastrous workouts always got him so much thirsty attention from ‘nom’-ing admirers, and there was something very erotic about hot guys of all sizes getting themselves off to tales of his misadventures in the gym.
But he was supposed to be trying to lose weight—he used to be a typical hottie! He had to get back to that... that was the goal… right? Right.
After a moment spent catching his breath and mulling the exact wording of his post—was it too melodramatic to call this workout “the fight of his life”?—he eventually built the momentum to haul his bulk out of the seat. “Wanna just check the scales before I get out of here?” he asked.
Bryce opened his mouth to respond, but said nothing. He seemed uneasy, following along as Tom led the way. Tom was acutely aware of how much he waddled, now, as the fat around his hips and thighs struggled against itself.
He stared at the scale, the upright, analog sort that could be found in doctors’ offices. Moment of truth: time to see how well his weight loss was going.
He slid the marker to 300 pounds and stepped on. The needle hit the top of its window with a clang. Sighing, Tom started sliding the marker further. 310, 320, 330. The needle didn’t move when he got to 340, and he started to squirm. At 350, the needle started to move, but not all the way. So, he weighed more than 350 pounds: he hadn’t lost any weight; he’d actually gained even more.
Tom started sliding the one-pound marker, and the needle continued to drop. It came to rest at 357 pounds.
Tom turned to Bryce, whose expression was blank. Tom had gained another 8 pounds since their last workout, only a month prior. They were silent.
Bryce started to say something: “That’s—”
“I know,” Tom said.
He probably could have predicted this. Losing weight was hard. Really, really hard. During those weeks when he actually tried, he was hungry all the time, constantly, voraciously. It was the sort of gnawing hunger that changed him, made him distracted and irritable. He slept poorly.
June had been his “best” stretch: he’d locked in for the entire month. He’d eaten carefully, exercised at least semi-regularly, and lost six whole pounds. For a single month, it was an impressive result; a significant but sustainable number that he could build on over months and years. But after what felt like agonizing privation, all that was cold comfort. It just didn’t seem worth it.
So, in July, he let himself have a cheat day. And then another. And then a few weeks of binging ensued, and by the end of July, he’d gained back the six pounds he lost in June, and added on four more for good measure.
It seemed like the very act of trying to lose weight was only making him fatter, like he had locked himself onto some unalterable biological trajectory that rewarded his attempts at weight loss with even more weight gain. He would lose a pound one week, and gain two the next. He would deny his appetites, suffer, shed weight, celebrate, overindulge, and end up bigger than ever.
How had Bryce made it look so easy? How had he avoided this downward—or upward—spiral?
“Setbacks happen,” Bryce said. For the first time, Tom could sense some doubt. It was understandable: Tom had weighed 311 pounds when he started training with Bryce. Which meant that he’d gained close to 50 pounds in the past six months. If the goal was weight loss, this was far from the sort of result that either man could take pride in. “But—”
“I know,” Tom repeated. He knew Bryce would offer him some well-meaning advice that he already knew and didn’t want to hear.
Undeterred, Bryce changed tack: “Same time next week?” he asked. He didn’t sound hopeful; he must have known there was no way Tom would be back next week.
“Uh, maybe the week after,” Tom said, reaching across his fleshy torso to rub his arm.
“Okay,” Bryce said. “I guess I’ll see you then.” He started to turn towards the front desk. Tom wondered if, after six and a half months of diminishing returns, Bryce’s patience was running out. Then, he lingered for a moment. “You know, weight loss is really hard. It doesn’t work out for everyone.”
“Do you think I can do it?” Tom asked. He swallowed. For some reason, he didn’t quite know how he wanted Bryce to respond. He patted his vast gut: “Am I going to lose all this?”
“If it’s what you actually want, then I have no doubt,” Bryce said. And then he flitted away.
Afterwards, Tom made his way to the locker room. Bryce’s words rattled around his head: if it’s what you actually want.
As Tom set about lathering up his fat in the cramped shower stall, he felt his horizons starting to broaden. And as he rinsed off the soap, as he ran his fingers across the underside of his belly, gathering it up in his arms and feeling its heft, he formed a thought that had been percolating in his brain for a long time: he didn’t actually want to lose weight.
December 31, 2024
Fadi’s ex, Ramona, with whom he remained on good terms, was throwing a New Year’s Eve party. Fadi was invited, and he needed backup. But most of Fadi’s non-work friends were now also Ramona’s friends, which meant that Fadi’s work friends needed to provide said backup.
That was more or less the lay of the land as Fadi described it in the groupchat. Nils was persuaded on the condition that he could leave before midnight if the vibes were bad. After being told there would be weed and hot girls, Brenna was also on board. For Tom, the winning promises were food and beer.
In any case, he needed to find something decent to wear to a party. But that was a problem for later in the day. For now, Tom had an absolute mountain of Chinese takeout waiting on his doorstep, and his stomach grumbled with vengeful insistence.
So, Tom set about hefting his considerable weight out of his large, new gaming chair. He was nearly naked, wearing only a pair of stretched-out boxer briefs, but his stomach overhung his waistband to such an extent that they were barely visible. He didn’t want his food to get cold, though, so he waddled to the front door as he was, relieved that none of his neighbours had chosen that moment to step into the hallway. If they had, they would have met with their nearly-naked 380-pound neighbour, bending over to retrieve his next meal.
Tom carried the two overloaded paper bags to his desk, ignoring the kitchen table as he passed. He’d stopped using his kitchen chairs last spring; he didn’t know their weight limit, but they’d been making more and more worrisome noises as the months passed, and he was fairly certain they could no longer tolerate his significant mass.
His office chair, too, had been phased out of rotation. It had started screaming in protest under Tom’s bulk, and, more annoyingly, the arms dug deep into his broad love handles, making it difficult to escape.
The new chair, which he bought online, boasted a 500-pound weight limit, and plenty of room for Tom’s ample figure to spread out. It had seemed comically enormous when he first put it together, but it was actually a comfortable fit, and its size made him feel a bit like a king on his throne.
Tom tossed aside three of the four sets of chopsticks, and tucked into his feast. Four egg rolls, orange chicken, Mongolian beef, sweet and sour pork, shrimp fried rice and vegetable lo mein (for a healthier option) disappeared down his gullet, washed down with a few litres of Mountain Dew, until every container had been laid bare and Tom’s exposed gut plowed out even further in front of him, round and full and almost painfully packed beneath a heavy layer of soft fat.
You will meet new challenges with confidence, his fortune cookie informed him, as he put the capstone on his meal. He liked the sound of that. He briefly debated eating the other four fortune cookies the restaurant had included, but decided against it in a moment of superstition.
After discarding his empties, Tom spent most of the day playing Starforce Online, having just bought the much-vaunted Nebula’s Promise DLC during the Steam Winter Sale. Tom’s starfleet had grown almost as much as Tom himself, and his iron-fisted control over the Epsilon Quadrant made him a desirable ally and a regular fixture on the leaderboard. He spent a few hours asserting his dominion over the galaxy, until he realized it was time to get ready for the party.
The clothes he’d bought for the office Christmas party still fit him well enough, although even they had gotten a little snug around his giant legs and mammoth ass. At least his shirt buttons weren’t gaping apart over his gut.
He met his friends at Fadi’s apartment, uptown, and they had a quick drink before making their way to Ramona’s. The walk was only five minutes, but Tom would have taken an Uber, if his friends hadn’t outvoted him.
Ramona’s house—which also used to be Fadi’s house, apparently—was a small, eclectic bungalow with an overgrown front lawn. Tom could hear music from the front step.
As for the party itself, Fadi had not overpromised: platters brimming with food burdened Ramona’s kitchen table, so encumbering it that it seemed at risk of collapse; bottles of beer stuck out from an ice-filled cooler on the floor; the coffee table was strewn with weed and rolling papers; and beautiful girls lounged or stood all over the house. Tom couldn’t help but notice a few beautiful boys in attendance, too.
One, in particular, grabbed Tom’s attention and refused to let go. He was standing by the door to the patio, wearing a tight t-shirt and a tight pair of distressed, light-wash jeans. Tom studied him from behind, drinking in the guy’s taut body, his v-shaped torso, his shapely ass and his long, tousled, light-brown hair. Even as Tom made peace with the changes that had so transformed his body, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia as he remembered a time when he looked like that.
Then, the guy turned—it was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Bryce. He sported a few more piercings, with rings or studs now adorning his right ear (in two places), eyebrow, and nostril. His glossy lips caught the low light, looking plump and pink and kissable, while his eyes sparkled as he conversed.
Tom had quit the gym in September, and hadn’t seen Bryce since. He’d been too embarrassed—to see Bryce would force Tom to admit his indiscipline, to own up to the reality that not only had he really let himself go, but that he planned and wanted to continue. Any time Tom imagined a conversation with Bryce, it ended with an acknowledgment that Tom had failed. Even if Tom was learning to enjoy his new build, it wasn’t a conversation he relished having.
But Bryce had noticed him, his face lighting up as he traipsed over. “Tom!” he exclaimed, “I’ve missed you, big guy!” He threw his arms around Tom (as far as he could reach, at least) and drew him into a hug, his narrow frame sinking into Tom’s flab.
Tom was touched by the fond reception as he hugged Bryce back. Tom had forgotten that Bryce had become quite a hugger—three years earlier, the guy Tom trained had been shy and withdrawn, but the new Bryce exuded physicality.
“I missed you, too,” Tom said. It was true—without the gym to keep them in touch, and with Tom still a bit embarrassed about his turn to all-out gaining, they had nearly fallen out of contact.
They talked, catching up and discussing the holidays. Bryce had taken to streaming video games in his spare time, and his Twitch channel seemed to be taking off. He was still coding his new game, but had decided to pass the torch to a friend, so he could focus more on his channel without losing time at the gym. For his part, Tom had spent Christmas with his family, and he avoided mentioning the looks of exasperation and warning comments they had given him regarding his exploding weight—or how frustratingly exciting he found those comments. He just said it had been a nice Christmas.
Eventually, there was a pause in the conversation, and Tom had to address the (other) elephant in the room. “Sorry I never replied to your texts,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He searched for an excuse, but came up dry.
“It’s alright,” Bryce answered. He gave a small smile: “I’m sure you can only put up with a guy throwing himself at you for so long.”
Throwing himself at me? Tom was confused. Was that what Bryce was doing? He sort of assumed that Bryce had had a crush on him in college, when he was in his physical prime. But as the tables turned and Bryce started lighting up rooms, Tom had given up on thinking that the handsome twunk could still have feelings for him. He assumed that Bryce’s affections were platonic, or just an expression of his gratitude.
Oh, God, how did I not see this, Tom thought, as he mentally catalogued the many signs of Bryce’s true intentions. How excited he always was to see Tom. How he guided Tom during their workouts, with firm but gentle hands. The stolen glances, the relentless praise, that fucking belly rub: how had Tom not realized that this guy was flirting with him, had been flirting with him for months?
It occurred to Tom that a lot of time had passed without him saying anything. “I didn’t, um… I didn’t know that's what you were doing.”
Bryce laughed. “I don’t know how I could have been any more obvious. Short of, I don’t know, an unsolicited dick pic, or something. Did you really have no idea how into you I was?”
“‘Was’?” Tom asked, feeling a twinge of fear that his chance may have passed. He had to step forward, to allow a petite, pink-haired girl to slip around his gigantic ass, but he underestimated the size of his belly and it bumped against Bryce’s flat stomach. He inched back after she moved on, but the room was so crowded, and Tom so large, that only a fraction of an inch separated his body from Bryce’s.
“Am,” Bryce corrected. He looked down, like he wanted to gaze at his shoes, but Tom’s overhanging gut obscured Bryce’s view of the floor. “How into you I am.”
Tom’s cheeks burned. He could have kicked himself for being so oblivious, for wasting so much time. “But you never made a move,” Tom said, in his own defence. “Never, like, actually asked me out.”
Bryce shifted from foot to foot. He furrowed his brow and sighed. “I don’t know. I was always afraid you’d reject me. In school, you could pull any guy you wanted. I guess I just never thought I had a shot.”
Tom wanted to shake him: of course he had a shot! But it dawned on Tom that Bryce had probably been insecure his whole life. Being big could really mess with your confidence, as Tom had learned. Given how completely their roles had reversed, Tom hadn’t even considered that Bryce might still see him as a popular, unattainable jock; that version of Tom felt like a completely different person, now. But maybe he still lived on, in a part of Bryce’s brain where self-doubt still lingered.
Tom wanted to banish him for good. “I would never reject you,” he said, definitively. “I would be so happy to go out with you.”
Bryce exhaled, a sigh of clear relief, and his face broke into a massive grin. “How about Thursday, after work? We could do some sprints at the indoor track, and then hit the gym?”
Tom stared blankly at him, until Bryce burst out laughing. “I’m just messing with you. What about… dinner and a movie?”
Tom nodded. “Sounds perfect. Maybe Imperial Wok, for dinner? Or Eastern Flavours?”
“Let’s do Imperial Wok. The manager at Eastern Flavours definitely has a thing for big boys, and I don’t want him competing for your attention,” Bryce said, his grin turning lopsided.
Tom was fairly sure that the manager of Eastern Flavours had an enormous husband of his own, but he liked the sound of Imperial Wok, anyway: their midtown location was all-you-can-eat, and Tom could eat quite a lot. The date was set, and Tom couldn’t have been happier.
Hours passed in a blur as Tom and Bryce chatted, reminisced, flirted. Tom pounded beer and Bryce sipped gin & tonic until both men were a little buzzed; the looks that passed between them became more loaded, and each touch lingered just a little longer than the last.
Tom continued to put away beers—he’d brought his own, since it took quite a few to get a man of his size properly tipsy. He also didn’t feel guilty about going to town on the snack table, even though none of that was his, technically speaking. But Tom increasingly embraced the mantra that, in relation to food, “for everyone” meant “for Tom”. Eventually, a spot on the couch opened up, and Tom deposited his substantial backside there, next to Bryce, who made regular trips to the kitchen to replenish Tom’s stockpile of food.
Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, too. Nils was speaking in animated Norwegian to a stony-faced beefcake, who responded occasionally in terse Danish. Brenna had found a girl almost as tattooed as herself, and they seemed to be getting together far quicker than Tom and Bryce had been able to. Fadi was laughing with Ramona as she poured a glass of wine, his chubby cheeks dimpling and her black curls bouncing, and Tom was happy for them.
Shortly before midnight, Ramona’s neighbours started setting off fireworks. Plenty of people rushed out to the deck to watch, but Tom’s knowledge of civil engineering led him to question whether he should really add his weight to the mix. So he stayed behind on the sofa with Bryce, the music seeming considerably louder without the boisterous conversation to drown it out.
“So, you’re really sure you wanna go out with me on Thursday?” Tom asked. He was almost afraid to ask, but he had to reassure himself that their date was real, and not some beautiful hallucination.
Bryce nodded, unhesitating.
But Tom needed something more. “So you’re…” he gestured vaguely to his massive torso, “Fine with all this?”
Bryce nodded again, more vehemently this time. “Tom, I love it,” he said, with almost alarming clarity. “I’ve never been more attracted to you.”
Tom snorted. Bryce was laying it on a little thick, in his opinion. “Seriously, never? Not even in college?”
“Not even in college,” Bryce agreed. “Man, you have no idea how many times I checked out your Grommr profile since you started it.”
Tom’s eyes widened. So, he’d been completely ass-backwards, then; Bryce’s crush was not just vestigial. “You mean…”
Gingerly, as if to test the water, Bryce spread his hand over the widest part of Tom’s gut, just above his navel. His fingers pressed against it, and Tom couldn’t remember a time when being touched felt so good. “Yeah. I really, really like this,” Bryce said, with a shy smile.
More fireworks went off outside, and pop music blared through the speakers. But the whole room seemed to be fading into the background, like the universe itself was shifting focus to Bryce and Tom.
Heavily, and a bit clumsily, Bryce inched a little closer to Tom. Now, there was nothing separating them. They looked deeply at each other, neither saying anything.
A roar went up outside, as the partygoers swapped cries of “Happy New Year!”
Tom blinked, realizing that midnight had passed without him even realizing it.
“Aw, did we miss the boat on a midnight kiss?” Bryce asked, looking at Tom through lidded eyes. Their faces were so close together.
“Better late than never,” Tom replied. He trailed the backs of his chubby fingers across Bryce’s cheek, each staring deeply into the other’s eyes.
And they kissed.
February 14, 2025
“Happy Valentine’s Day, big boy,” Bryce said, entering the bedroom with a massive tray of breakfast. He was naked except for a pair of tighty-whities.
Yawning, Tom stirred in bed. He looked at the clock: it was only 7:30. At one time, he would have already been up for an hour, but his sleep schedule had shifted to accommodate late-night Starforce sessions, among other sorts of binges. “You’re up early,” he mumbled, as he considered the best way to maneuver himself onto his back. He slept on his side, to mitigate the worst of his snoring—although the necessity of mechanical assistance was really becoming undeniable—and even wiggling around in bed had become cumbersome, these days. A side effect, he reasoned, of his very rapid increase in weight.
“You know I like to pamper you,” Bryce said, balancing the tray in his hands as he climbed onto the bed.
With some undignified wobbling, Tom rolled onto his back. He struggled for a little bit to sit up, before remembering that he needed to use his hands for that now—to lay his palms against the bed and push against his own weight to overcome his incredible absence of physical fitness. Finally, he inched himself upright, relieving the pressure imposed on his lungs by his weighty middle.
“I like to watch you, too,” Bryce said, carefully placing the tray on the top of Tom’s belly after the big man had positioned himself. Then, he reclined at Tom’s side.
“Watch me struggle, you mean,” Tom said, smirking as he picked up a crispy piece of bacon. He bit into it; it was perfect. “Mm, you nailed it again.”
Bryce was a decent cook, but only in relation to two specific kinds of meals. The first consisted of bland health food, like grilled chicken breasts and steamed vegetables. The second, perfected during the most fattening days of 2020, consisted of the greasiest, sweetest, and most unhealthy foods that could be combined on a plate.
Tom learned early on that Bryce very much enjoyed feeding him the latter type of meal, with such frequency and in such quantities that Tom was almost always stuffing himself, these days. Which meant that, in the six weeks they’d been dating, his weight had climbed past 380 pounds and now loomed precipitously close to 400.
“You sure you can’t take the day off, today?” Bryce asked, as he rubbed the lower reach of Tom’s soft belly.
“Sadly, Valentine’s Day is not a holiday at my office,” he said. “But maybe I can make up for it tonight?”
Bryce agreed. Tom ate his breakfast with his usual haste, taking care not to nip Bryce’s fingers as he pushed hashbrowns and bacon strips into Tom’s mouth.
Finally, it was time to get up. Tom moved the tray from his belly-shelf to the bed, and Bryce sprung to his feet, moving gracefully to Tom’s side of the bed and offering a helping hand.
Tom didn’t need help getting out of bed—he wasn’t that far gone—but he did appreciate the gesture, and Bryce’s eagerness to please. And, if he was being completely honest, a hand did make it easier to get on his feet.
“Are you working today?” Tom asked, lumbering towards the dresser. His plodding footfalls seemed to shake every piece of furniture in the room; he could see ripples in Bryce’s coffee cup as the end table vibrated in response to Tom’s heavy gait.
“Nope, although I might stream Horizons this morning, and I probably will go in for a workout. Did you want me to time it so I can bring you home some Taco Bell, for after work?” Bryce leaned back on the bed, hands folded behind his head.
Tom couldn’t imagine any man luckier than himself, with an adoring boyfriend to greet him with fast food upon his return from the office. But he paused: “Taco Bell isn’t much of a Valentine’s Day dinner,” he said, as he retrieved an enormous pair of underwear from the top drawer.
“Oh, that wouldn’t be your main dinner,” Bryce said, as if it went without saying that Tom would eat two dinners if given the chance.
Which he really would, to be fair.
As Tom squeezed his enormous thighs and gigantic butt into his boxer-briefs, he and Bryce debated their options. By the time he’d pulled on some clothes—new enough to actually fit him, which was rare—they’d settled on a little Italian bistro for their “main” dinner.
Bryce leapt from the bed to kiss Tom goodbye, and Tom made his way down the corridor of his building. The elevator was empty when he stepped inside, which meant that Tom was alone with a large mirror.
He blinked, and the whale of a man staring back at him blinked, too. He was so much fatter now than Bryce had ever been—every part of him was large, doughy, protruding. He looked at his round, jowly face, its thickness evident even beneath his well-kept beard. He had no neck to speak of, anymore, and the fat around his face seemed to flow into his expansive torso. He looked past his broad, sloping shoulders, to his arms. They were huge, but his taut biceps had long since been replaced by pure lard.
He slipped a hand under his belly. It was so heavy; it boggled Tom’s mind to think that it was actually a part of him. His colossal gut was a perfect blend of roundness and softness, thick but buoyant, pushing outwards and dangling downwards simultaneously. His tits rested heavily atop his stomach, so bulging with fat that they cleaved plushly against his shirtfront, aiming outwards in opposite directions. His buttons weren’t straining per se, but he knew they would be before long. Already, his new shirt seemed to have very little fabric left to spare.
He felt his suspenders through his shirt; they were the only way he could keep his pants up, anymore. The problem wasn’t that his waist was small; it was that his ass was so big. He needed pants with a waistband large enough to overcome his butt. But the frenetic bouncing and wobbling of his paunch and behind exerted downward pressure on that waistband, threatening to expose his massive buttocks to the viewing public. A belt buckle dug painfully into his underbelly, so he resorted to suspenders. He thought they looked goofy, at first, but like so many other things, they’d grown on him. He was very curious about a certain type of fat-boy belt that had been making the rounds online, though.
He turned and looked at himself in profile. He looked even bigger side-on, with his sweeping curves laid bare. He just took up so much space, now. He trailed his hand along the curve of his buttocks, which seemed to go on forever, bounding out behind him. They rested atop thighs as thick as columns, and his light-coloured pants only emphasized the enormity of his lower half.
Gaining weight used to scare him. Then, it became an uncomfortable inevitability, until he learned to view it with indifference. After that, there was the first, tepid step into actively enjoying his larger body—those exhilarating moments that increased in frequency and intensity until Tom began to relish his size and heft and power. The thought of how much he’d grown excited him, now; he thought about it often, and he basked in it in that moment, as he studied the slopes and sweeps of his body, feeling his arousal budding. He wanted more.
The elevator dinged as it reached the garage, and Tom pulled himself away from the mirror. He could always check himself out later—it was more fun with Bryce, anyway.
June 28, 2025
“Our love is forbidden, Toran. It would jeopardize peace in the galaxy.”
“You are wrong, Byrneth.” Toran looked away, toward the horizon and the setting of the Two Suns of Vath’Nagoth. When he turned back, tears clouded his dark eyes: “You are a prince of the Empire, but you have lived among my people. The best of the Sarani dwells within you. I am Sarani, but I have pledged my life in service to the Empire. This love of ours—
“Did you hear me?” Bryce asked, his hand gliding smoothly across Tom’s enormous gut. Bryce’s hands had been so soothing, and Tom had been so unexpectedly entertained by this cheesy, gay Starforce novelization, that he barely heard what Bryce asked him. “Do you want some more ice cream, big guy?”
Tom burped into his fist. “Is that even a question?” he asked, with a smile, before tipping the last drops of melted Rocky Road into his mouth. It was a perfect Saturday evening: sunny and sweltering, although generous air conditioning kept Tom from completely overheating. But even with air conditioning, heat like this demanded ice cream.
That was the only prompting Bryce needed. He sprung to his feet, taking the empty pint from Tom’s hands and returning from the kitchen a moment later with a fresh one. “Can I feed it to you?” He asked, holding up a spoon.
“Yes, please,” Tom said, as Bryce slipped in next to him on the loveseat. There wasn’t much room left, but it was perfect for getting cozy.
He read on as Bryce spoon-fed him chocolate and peanut butter ice cream. Toran explained that their love was rooted in mutual understanding: each man had walked in the other’s shoes; they had changed each other. In spite of himself, Tom was almost getting a little teary-eyed as Byrneth left for battle. He opened his mouth for another spoonful of ice cream, but none came, and he saw that Bryce had set the now-empty carton on the coffee table.
“I can’t believe you’re reading that,” Bryce said, when he noticed Tom looking up. He looked amused as he uncapped his lipgloss, ready to reapply. “My big, chubby nerd.” He spoke with unadulterated affection, without a hint of irony or mean-spiritedness.
“You gave it to me,” Tom said, marking his page and setting the book aside. “I seem to remember a whole row of your bookshelf dedicated to these.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bryce said. “When I first read that book, you were probably sniffing poppers and doing CrossFit.”
“I didn’t typically do those things at the same time.” Tom chuckled. “But, if I’m a nerd, what does that make you?”
“A himbo, probably.”
Tom laughed. “You’re not a himbo. You just look like one.” It was true: anyone who judged a book by its cover might have assumed that Bryce was shallow or unthinking, but Tom appreciated his kindness and intelligence far more than his appearance, and he made sure Bryce knew that. As for poppers, Bryce wouldn't have had much use for those: it had been months since Tom had successfully topped him, and he wasn’t optimistic he’d be able to manage it again. No, Tom had made his peace with life as a power bottom, and Bryce was proving to be very adept at handling all that ass. In that regard, he had two important assets: strength, and length.
“And what does a chubby chaser look like?” Bryce asked, running his hand along Tom’s leg. “Do I look like one of those, too?”
Tom licked his lips, melting into Bryce’s touch. “I imagine a chaser looks like whatever guy I’m dating.”
“And what about a feeder?” Bryce asked, his hand gripping and squeezing the bottom of Tom’s belly so perfectly that Tom almost moaned. He could feel Bryce’s warm breath against his neck. “How do they look?”
“Like you, I hope,” Tom said. He couldn’t resist Bryce a moment longer; he had to kiss him. Tom tipped forward, causing his belly to push even further into Bryce’s hand, and their lips met. The kiss intensified; Bryce removed Tom’s t-shirt, and then his own. Bryce’s fingers sunk deep into Tom's belly flab, squeezing, caressing.
After a bit of making out, Bryce leaned back a little, his eyes wandering across Tom’s mountainous body. “I’m so turned on right now,” he said.
“Fuck, me too,” Tom said. He ran his hand along the small of Bryce’s back. “Maybe we need to do something about that.”
Bryce leaned forward and kissed Tom’s cheek, then his double chin, then his shoulder, his breast, the top of his belly… Bryce slipped off the couch and dropped to his knees, kissing along Tom’s gut. Tom helped him lift it up to let Bryce undo the top button of his shorts, and lifted his ass enough to pull them down.
Tom’s once-formidable cock was fully surrounded by blubber, now, with only the head poking out from his thick fat pad. Both he and Bryce strained to keep his belly aloft and out of the way, as Bryce slipped his mouth over Tom’s eager erection.
Tom tried to keep from shuddering with pleasure—and sending various parts of his massive bulk slapping against his poor boyfriend—as Bryce bobbed and licked and sucked. The pleasure was incredible, and Bryce seemed to be enjoying it, too, since he slipped his right hand into his pants and tugged his manhood over the elastic waistband. At least, that’s what Tom thought was happening, since he couldn’t actually see much behind the curve of his gigantic belly.
His fingers plunged into his yielding flesh as he held his gut out of Bryce’s way, his heart pounding ecstatically. He moaned, and leaned ever-so-slightly from side to side, to feel the weight of his gut shift against each hand. Bryce was feeling him up, too, rubbing his thumb along Tom’s tender underbelly, and it all felt so good.
Bryce kept going, and Tom felt his breath coming faster—it was getting hard to hold up so much weight! But it wouldn’t be a problem for long, since he was on the edge of coming, and as Bryce deployed some dazzling maneuver on the tip of Tom’s dick, Tom couldn’t hold it back anymore, and he finished, and oh, God…
Bryce swallowed it down easily, and pulled himself out of the way just in time for Tom to release his hundreds of pounds of belly fat. Bryce kept working his own erection, and he squeezed and fondled Tom relentlessly as the big man tried to catch his breath, until Bryce came, too.
After cleaning himself up with some tissues from the table, Bryce climbed back onto the couch and folded himself into Tom’s side. The skin of Bryce’s bare arms stuck to Tom’s sticky flesh: the mere act of getting head was enough exertion to leave Tom out of breath and, in this heat, sweating. He could imagine the sweatstain his bare ass would definitely be leaving on the sofa.
Bryce grabbed the remote and bumped up the air conditioning, before resting a gentle hand on the upper curve of Tom’s belly. “How much do you even weigh, now?” He asked. His face was alight with a mix of curiosity and hopefulness as he looked Tom up and down.
“Honestly? No idea. Our scale doesn’t go up high enough. More than 400, but probably less than 450.” He threw in a “probably” just to be on the safe side; it seemed unlikely, but he couldn’t rule anything out, with the way Bryce had been (over)feeding him.
Bryce whistled, patting Tom’s gut a few times as if to feel all that weight for himself.
Tom continued: “You know, I’ve gained way more than 200 pounds since we graduated. Like, an average of 55 pounds a year, at least.”
“If current trends continue, you’ll be half a ton before you’re 40,” Bryce said, smirking.
“Fuck off,” Tom said, although he couldn’t help but smile. He’d never let things go that far… right? He bumped his fleshy shoulder against Bryce. “Hey, that was some quick math for you, pretty boy.” He occasionally teased Bryce about quitting engineering, but it was purely playful: Bryce seemed much happier training and streaming than he ever had in an office job. Tom would never want to take that away from him. Even if Tom was the better Starforce player, according to the leaderboards.
Bryce kissed him on the cheek, and whispered: “But there’s another equation I might need your help with.”
Tom looked at him lustily. Only Bryce could make math sound sexy. “Go on,” he said.
“A large pizza, plus a twink, plus his 400-and-something pound lover,” Bryce said, still rubbing his hand along Tom’s colossal stomach and its acreage of hairy, stretch mark-lined flesh. “Can you solve for X?”
Tom didn’t need to be an engineer to figure that one out. With a belly full of ice cream and a heart full of love, Tom pulled Bryce into another passionate kiss… before pausing to order pizza.
Fresh out of the shower, Liam pulled out his lucky pants from the closet and grinned brightly. It felt like such a long time since he had been out to a gay bar. He’d been so busy (and so skint) for weeks ever since he’d moved out of his parents’ place and into the share house. The holidays hadn’t helped either, consuming his time and funds further. But now it was payday, and nothing was going to stop him having a good time.
There was something so satisfying about the way Liam’s lucky pants fitted. Ever since he’d first realised he was gay, Liam knew that he was going to be submissive. For the longest time, he’d fixated on the idea of being taken and pounded by a guy who truly knew what he was doing. The reality had yet to match up to Liam’s fantasies, but his pants were always the way to get the attention he craved. Snug-fitting and shapely, they emphasised the cute little butt he wanted to offer up. When guys saw him, Liam wanted them to imagine taking him and performing every last sexual kink they wanted with him. The pants had been instrumental in attracting Liam’s last boyfriend, as well as a few hook-ups in the past. But, that evening, as Liam pulled them up his legs, a sense of dread slowly filled him.
For the first time ever, Liam had packed on a few pounds over the holidays. Usually slim and twink-like, but for his bubble butt, Liam could feel the extra mass in his glutes and stomach. The scales had declared a nine pound gain and yet, it suddenly felt like so much more as he tried desperately to make the pants close. In the mirror, Liam could see the extra softness of his new love handles bulging slightly over the waistband as he finally completed the deed. He spun around, noting how obscene his ass now looked in such tight material. One wrong move and the fabric could blow at any second. He huffed, questioning whether he could really get away with them that night. The extra weight would have to go, that much was obvious. However, he couldn’t imagine a night out without the pants. No, he reasoned; he wasn’t about to go anywhere without his lucky charm.
Liam decided to stand at the bar most of the night, making small talk with some of the guys he had met over the years. When sitting, he’d felt the harsh, unsympathetic waistband digging into him, reminding him with every passing second of the added flesh on his body. A few drinks with his buddies had slowly helped him relax a little, although the creamy cocktails had bloated his stomach a little too much, making even his shirt appear too snug. With a pretty face, Liam could see guys checking him out, yet no one had come up to chat with him yet. He looked at his cell phone, seeing it was beyond midnight. Never ever had he gone this long without even a guy offering to buy him a drink.
Just then, a tall, strapping guy entered the bar. Dressed in a loose and unironed shirt, the man had all the appearance of a laid-back brute; with a powerful chest and strong hips that came from a naturally broad build and a clearly active lifestyle. With seemingly little thought placed into what he was wearing, the man was still, with minimal effort, the most handsome man in the entire bar. Liam had seen the guy only a handful of times before; always around this time of night and never for very long. As to whether he was gay or not, it was hard to tell. Liam had never once seen him take anyone home, or even flirt with someone here. He bounded up to the bar, getting served almost instantly despite theseveral others who had been waiting patiently. Then, with his bottle of beer in hand, the man turned and seemed to scan the room.
With his back turned at the time, Liam didn’t notice the man’s eyebrows raising as his eyes caught sight of the overly padded rear pressed into pants that were obviously too tight. Yet, the next time he turned, the handsome jock was suddenly standing right beside him. “I’m Jake,” the man declared, holding out his hand to shake.
Stunned by the approach, Liam placed his hand in the man’s large strong palm and gave his name in response. He hardly realised how expertly he had been led away from his friends and taken towards a high table in the corner where Jake could chat to him more privately.
Did Liam notice the jealous stares in his direction as he stood at the table, chatting with Jake? Of course he did. The music was loud, however, the muscular stud seemed to enjoy leaning in and speaking close to Liam’s ear. His aftershave was so alluring and his breath so sweet. After the initial small talk, the man explained how he worked in construction after having abandoned his semi-professional football career. Suddenly, every inch of his finely sculpted body seemed to make sense; the height, the build, the masculine authority. Liam had never been more aroused in his entire life.
“What about you?” Jake asked. “Do you play any sports?”
Liam couldn’t help but laugh. “No,” he replied instantly. “I was always picked last in gym class, back in high school. Sports aren’t really my thing. I think I’m a bit too lazy for all that.”
It struck Liam that he may have been a little too forthcoming. Perhaps it was his nerves. However, he was pretty sure that an athlete like Jake wouldn’t want to hear that the guy he was flirting with could hardly catch a ball.
“That’s alright,” Jake smiled back sweetly, now resting his hand upon the small of Liam’s back. “So you don’t do any exercise?” he asked.
His heart racing at the touch, Liam found his brain unable to conjure a lie, shaking his head with complete honesty. “No. I don’t do anything.”
Again, Jake smiled, his hand sliding further down onto Liam’s butt, rubbing sweetly in a circular motion on the stretched fabric of the lucky pants. “I like that,” he whispered. “You know… you’re pretty cute,” the man continued into his ear. “I don’t really go for guys who are obsessed with working out.”
Surprised but delighted that his honesty seemed to be taking him places, Liam leaned in a little more. “I don’t think I’ve done any exercise since I left high school over four years ago.”
Slipping his other hand onto Liam’s hip, the large man turned him into his body even more. With lustful eyes fixed on Liam’s lips, the dominant figure took him into a deep kiss; his big hands already exploring and pinching at Liam’s under-exercised rear. The pair breathed out with lust as they kissed further; Jake’s hands seemingly fixated by cupping the glutes, holding and owning them. “Wanna get out of here?” Jake finally asked, already taking Liam’s hand, ready to lead the way.
In no time at all, Liam was closing the door to his bedroom. Jake seemed to set upon him immediately, unbuckling Liam’s belt and unpeeling him from those skin-tight pants. Liam assisted where he could, standing there with his legs slightly parted as Jake went down on his knees and explored that butt that he seemed so fixated on. Removing Liam’s underwear and shirt, the man moaned softly as he sank his nose between the butt cheeks, gripping his hands against Liam’s hips and bouncing the glutes until they jiggled frantically. Liam had never felt chubbier in his whole life, yet it was exactly this softness that seemed to captivate Jake more than any other lover Liam had ever had. From having felt Jake up in the club, he knew how tight at pert the man’s butt was, yet his own felt, in that moment, like two heavy masses of pure blubber.
“You’re so fucking sexy,”Jake whispered as he slipped on the condom that Liam handed him. Liam had questioned the wisdom of allowing Jake to fuck him after only just meeting. But as the man had undressed and his incredible body came on display, Liam knew that this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity, never to be repeated. He breathed deeply and relaxed as Jake spread his doughy cheeks and pressed himself inside, significantly thicker and larger than any other man who had ever tried to do this. Then that glorious gentle thrusting started.
From the reflection in the mirror, Liam could make out the man’s incredible body, pounding him softly. In his wildest and kinkiest dreams, he could never have imagined anyone so stunning doing this to him, nor that they would seem to enjoy it so much. Jake appeared to be trying to control himself; trying to stop himself from climaxing too soon. Then, when the inevitable finally happened, Jake gasped, as if shocked by the violent power of the orgasm he was experiencing; collapsing with exhaustion next to the chubby boy.
Liam could hardly believe that Jake was still there in the morning. Usually, he had a habit of sleeping in very late. But with Jake’s hands exploring his body again, he awoke with a pleasant smile upon his face. Light was streaming in through the cheap curtains and there he was, being fondled beautifully by the most handsome man he had ever met.
“Do you, perhaps, want to meet up again sometime?” Liam asked nervously as he watched the stunning man pulling his underwear back on and re-buttoning his shirt.
“I gave you my number,” Jake replied, chuckling a little at Liam’s sudden insecurity.
“Yeah, but, to a lot of guys, that doesn’t mean anything,” he replied.
Jake smiled and pulled the still naked Liam up to stand in front him. “Look, I’m not like ‘a lot of guys’,” he whispered sweetly whilst reaching around for one final grope of Liam’s glutes. “I want to take you out for ice cream, fancy dinners and bring you doughnuts in bed,” he assured him. With his other large hand, he gently stroked Liam’s hair out of his face. “I want to spoil and pamper you rotten.”
Liam felt warm and fuzzy. How he wished Jake didn’t have something else on that morning. “I’d absolutely love that,” he nodded back, kissing the stud goodbye.
Despite his busy schedule. Jake was back at Liam’s place only two days later. The pair had been flirtatiously messaging each other almost constantly since their parting. Then, once Liam had sent the man a suggestive nude of his slightly oversized rear, Jake was unable to hold himself back. He arrived straight from his construction job, a masculine musk upon his strong, capable body, looking effortlessly muscular and imposing. Within five minutes, the man had slid his concreter erection straight inside Liam, pounding away until he made both of them climax.
Afterwards, he’d taken Liam out in his truck to a fast food place Liam had always loved but lived a little far away from to enjoy regularly.
“I’d bring you here every night if it would make you happy,” the gorgeous man declared, rubbing Liam’s thigh as he watched the boy consuming the many items that had been bought for him. “If you have a sweet tooth, I also know a great doughnut place not too far from here?”
Liam nodded, feeling luckier than he’d ever felt before. How was it possible that this incredible man was so ridiculously perfect? How was it conceivable that this hunk had actually just asked him to be his boyfriend?
Dating a man who was so good with his hands was remarkably useful in Liam’s new share house. With Jake so willing and able to fix all the little snags around the house, Liam found himself absolved of all the rest of the little chores by the others living there. Jake had been true to his word about spoiling him. Sometimes, he’d message Liam, telling him to look in certain drawers in his bedroom; whereupon Liam would find tasty treats and snacks that had been hidden there for him by Jake on his last visit. Nurturing seemed to be Jake’s love language. He appeared to revel in taking care of him and making his life as easy as possible. Then, back in the bedroom, he could take on the persona of Liam;s wildest fantasies, fucking him with every ounce of his brutish strength and stamina. Liam had been contorted into every strange pose imaginable whilst Jake set to work upon the ass that he simply could not get enough of.
Liam’s entire family had taken to Jake almost instantly. Even Liam’s father, who had initially struggled with his son coming out, beamed with pride as he introduced Jake to the neighbors at one of their backyard barbecues.
Your butt looks so fucking cute in those shorts,” Jake whispered as he felt up his lover once more.
“Thanks,” Liam smiled back. He didn’t like to say that these were in fact the only shorts that were fitting him comfortably at that time. He’d been quietly packing on weight at an almost alarming rate since the winter. He could feel an insidious oozing influx of blubber around his waist, building into his butt and making it softer than ever before. When sitting, he could feel the wider spread of his buttcheeks and a rolling mass pushing itself gently over his waistband. Liam found himself trying to disguise a notable paunch with his clever clothes choices. But even then, as he looked back at pictures from his first summer with Jake, he could see the new puffiness of his face, undoing it all.
“I look so fat!” Liam had announced, catching sight of his chubby body as Jake played with him in sight of the mirror. Without his clothes on, every last lardy inch of the forty pounds he had gained so far that year seemed to scream out at him.
“You look gorgeous!” Jake had countered, resuming kissing him and only stopping when it seemed like Liam needed more reassurance. “You just look like a guy who’s very content in his relationship. He smiled sweetly. “With this cute little tummy, everyone can see how well I look after you.”
Liam chuckled at that, rolling his eyes. There was no doubt that he had eaten a significant excess of calories the last few months.
“Oh, come on!” Jake had grinned, trying to pull Liam out of his sulky mood. “You really think I’m going to complain if that irresistible ass of yours gets a little bigger?” he teased, reaching down and moulding it into his hands before bouncing it gently. “You know the jiggle drives me crazy.”
Liam smiled at this. Despite how ridiculously mismatched he may have looked beside Jake, he at least knew that he had an ass that his lover found more fuckable than any other in the entire world. “I guess there is that,” he nodded back, never failing to get hard whenever Jake started playing with his butt.
“Exactly,” Jake nodded sweetly at him; his breath upon his face. “So stop stressing. You love how I fuck you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand into Liam’s pants, stroking a finger up his butt crack as the boy dutifully widened his stance for him; the light tickling of his hole.
Liam nodded, already feeling hungry to be taken by Jake again that night.
“So… just be a good boy and quit worrying about what you’re eating. The ice cream ,the pizzas and doughnuts, they’re all doing to help add a little extra cushion back here,” he declared, removing his hand but delivering a playful pat on his rear nonetheless. “Just… let me have some fun with you…” he teased, finally kissing Liam in a way that was simply irresistible.
Although Jake was a terrible cook, he was attentive enough to ensure that Liam had more than enough to eat whenever Liam stayed over at his place. An expert at heating up pizzas, chicken pieces and fries, Liam soon found that his own portions were now dramatically outsizing his muscular and highly active lover’s. “Oh, come on. I know you can eat all that…” Jake had teased once Liam had complained. “You want to keep that ass nice and plush and juicy for me?”
Jake’s excuses for the extra food seemed to play right into Liam’s own submissive streak. He started to care less about the excess weight he was carrying, knowing that at least his butt was shaping up in the way his lover seemed to find so amusingly enticing. As it had grown, Jake had been less and less able to keep his hands off it, caressing those glutes sweetly no matter where they were. Sure, he had a tummy on him not too dissimilar to the cousin he had watched piling on weight since having kids. But with Jake’s offer to let him move in with him, Liam was at last convinced that none of that actually mattered.
Unlike Liam, Jake had relatively few gay friends. Despite meeting at a gay bar, that wasn’t the type of place Jake often frequented. In fact, the only other gay person he seemed to even know was his buddy, Will. Just like Jake, Will was athletic and naturally sporty. When Liam had first seen a picture of him, he’d been nervous that a guy like Will could easily just snap his fingers and steal Jake from him in a microsecond. But as time went on, the more Liam realised he had nothing to worry about. Jake just didn’t seem into the clean-cut athletic types. Whenever they were watching something on TV and a handsome, hunky actor came on screen, Liam couldn’t help commenting and ceclaring his appreciation. Jake would smile, always enjoying seeing him getting a little turned on. Then he would check out the source of Liam’s arousal; usually some tall, built and lean hunk performing in yet another completely unnecessary shirtless scene. “Not my type,” the man would declare dismissively, leaning in to kiss Liam instead.
Liam hadn’t been sure of the sweatshorts he’d worn when he’d been taken over to Will’s place for the first time. However, Jake had insisted he looked great. In truth, his t-shirt was also a poor fit, being ever so slightly too short, and when he’d stood next to Jake at the doorway, he’d felt fat and dumpy.
“So this must be Liam!” Will had smiled after hugging his buddy. A little shorter than Jake and slightly less well built, the guy’s English accent was clearly a huge draw for him. He seemed to look Liam up and down, nodding with approval.
It seemed that Will had been busy most of the morning preparing an authentic British roast dinner, and the three of them settled down at the table almost immediately. Fatty cuts of pork were served straight onto Liam’s plate alongside glistening roasted potatoes, parsnips and carrots. Then a thick, oozing gravy was served all on top of the mountain of food whilst Jake and Will served themselves separately from a dish of boiled vegetables instead. “Does it taste good?” Will asked him after a minute or too.
“Delicious!” Liam had replied instantly, agreeing to some more slices of pork.
“I’ve been nagging Jake that he needs to learn how to cook properly for you,” Will smiled, turning then to Jake. “Liam’s your boyfriend. You need to look after him!”
“I do look after him!” Jake had chuckled back, having finished his much smaller meal and draping his long, muscular arm over Liam’s shoulder. “I’m just a dreadful cook.”
“You’d love it if Jake learned to cook for you like this every night, wouldn’t you?” Will asked Liam.
With his mouth full of food, Liam could only nod in hearty agreement.
Will’s dessert was an equally mouth-watering experience: a large slice of fresh apple pie drowned in an ocean of warm, creamy custard. It had all been served with such speed and efficiency that Liam’s brain didn’t seem to catch up with how full his stomach had become until it was far too late. Forcing down the last two spoonfuls, a mild panic set in as Liam realised how completely stuffed he was. The thick, oozing custard had seemed to fill every last gap in his stomach, sticking to his insides and making it so that even a sly burp wouldn’t cause any relief.
The three of them went to sit in the lounge area instead; Jake resting his arm over Liam’s shoulders once more, whilst perching his other hand on Liam’s stomach until the bloated boy had to ask him to remove it. Just the weight of that large hand on top had made him feel like his sides may split open at any second.
Will had seemed to pick up on how uncomfortably full Liam felt, addressing most of his conversation to Jake instead. There was even a blissful five minutes where the pair of them discussed supercars and Liam could rest easy, not having to contribute at all.
“So, eight months, huh?” Will had asked, smiling as they discussed how long Jake and Liam had now been dating. “Have you met Jake’s parents yet?”
Jake shook his head, answering for Liam. Jake’s folks lived in Florida and, with five other sons scattered all over the country, had not been over to see their son the entire time they had been together. “We’re hoping to go down and see them during the holidays.”
Liam nodded. “Although I do want to drop a few pounds before then,” he sighed, feeling heavy and lethargic still. “I can’t see me making a good impression given all the weight I’ve put on this year.
“It’s happy weight!” Will had shot back immediately. “It’s a fact of life. Everyone knows you put on a good amount of weight when you find the right person.”
“That’s what I tell him,” Jake nodded in agreement, lightly rubbing the top of Liam’s belly where a distinct shelf was forming. Jake wasn’t lying. Word-for-word, Jake would always tell him the exact same thing whenever he got a little insecure about his evolving shape: contentment always came with weight gain.
“Plus, you’re dating a big, strapping guy like Jake, who naturally eats more than most guys. So you will most likely be picking up those sorts of eating habits. My boyfriend is the same,” he added nonchalantly. “I eat a lot to keep up the muscle and so he’s automatically started eating more and carrying a little more weight. I think it’s cute.”
“Me too,” Jake smiled at Liam proudly. He tensed his bicep for Liam to admire; as if these strong arms were yet another reason why he shouldn’t blame himself for getting so lardy.
Just then, the door to the apartment gently opened and Will’s eyes lit up as his boyfriend arrived home from work. He bounced up with a sprightliness that Liam could no longer even imagine and raced to the door, returning with a short, portly guy under his arm. “This is Sam,” he announced, beaming.
Dressed smartly in a tight-fitting shirt, Sam’s stomach stuck out, protruding quite considerably in front of him. With absolutely no jawline remaining, the fat-faced guy stepped forwards and politely shook Liam’s hand. Round: that was almost the only word that sprang to Liam’s mind as he tried to comprehend the shape of handsome Will’s boyfriend. Fat had completely consumed the guy’s torso, bulging and rolling into incredibly robust-looking love handles that pushed gently over the waistband of his pants. He stayed only a moment before being taken off to the kitchen to have a full plate of leftovers made up for him.
“Sam’s such a sweet guy,” Jake smiled as he was left alone with Liam briefly once more. “I think you two will really hit it off.”
Liam wanted to whisper something about his surprise at Will’s boyfriend’s size. What was a handsome British guy doing with such a startlingly obese boy? Then again, he’d heard similar things being said about him in recent months; friends who had told him that he was letting himself go and putting his relationship in danger. Perhaps it was best not to question these things.
Will came back to join them, leaving his boyfriend to eat his dinner in peace in the kitchen. They chatted some more, until Will got up yet again to serve up Sam’s dessert. Then, about ten minutes after that, Sam came in to join them all. His face was one of strain, which Liam could fully identify with. Sam had overeaten, just like he had earlier. It had been the pie and custard that had done it, Liam could tell. Inside that tight shirt of his, Sam’s stomach had expanded and bloated, pressing against the shirt buttons. The man dropped himself onto the couch next to Will and groaned softly. At the same time, Will’s eyes seemed to light up. He leaned across and kissed his lover deeply, not seeming to care that others were there to watch.
Rather than feeling awkward, Jake turned to Liam and moved in for his own kiss; the two couples suddenly making out like pairs horny teenagers. Jake’s hand slipped under Liam’s shirt, rubbing the rounded stomach that had been packed so tightly that afternoon. With his portly gut on show, Liam looked across to the other couple even as he kissed Jake, worried that they would see how chubby he looked without a t-shirt to hide it all. Neither of them were looking; they were too engrossed in their own pleasure; Will’s hand mimicking Jake’s as he too rubbed the spherical shape of his own boyfriend’s fat stomach. To anyone else, it may have looked grotesque and unsightly, however Liam found the sight was actually turning him on, despite not being able to fully explain why. What was it about these two friends: Jake and WIll? Guys like these didn’t date such overweight folks. What was going on that Liam wasn’t picking up on?
In the coming months, Liam had packed on even more fat. He could feel his love handles bulging at the sides and the fat spreading from his chest and under his arms. Relatively new t-shirts that had fitted poorly before, now became obscene. After moving in with Jake before the holidays. Liam’s weight had skyrocketed, His butt had expanded with each passing day, pulling tightly against the material of all his sweatpants until even the pull string had no length left to give.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jake reassured him as he seductively fed him a large slice of a cheesecake he had picked up on the way home. It was obvious where things were headed as Jake took off his own shirt to make the moment even more erotic. The man seemed so built, powerful and dominant in these moments; contrasting to an almost insane degree with the blubbery, plush physique Liam had obtained in the last sixteen months. Yet, still Liam wanted to eat this for him. Food had always been the foreplay before a fucking, which Jake had showered and prepared himself for excitedly. There was a lust upon Jake that could not be matched through any other means; his dominance seeming to grow with each forkful he lifted into Liam’s mouth. Submitting to that, knowing that his ass was about to be pounded, felt like the most fulfilling thing Liam could ever do.
“Think you can finish off the whole cheesecake?” Jake asked seductively, already standing to fetch the final slice.
In previous times, Liam would not have been able to do such a thing, but something had happened to him in recent weeks, making him more capable than ever of consuming greater amounts in these types of sittings. “Do you want me to finish it all for you?” he asked, almost begging for Jake to turn on that fiercely dominant personality that he found so sexy in the bedroom.
Jake nodded, slipping off the remainder of his clothes before sitting down again, carrying the final slice of cheesecake and placing Liam’s idle hand to stroke his raging erection. “I want you to eat it all for me,” the man insisted just as Liam obediently set to work in stroking his man’s hard-on up and down. “I want your ass nice and big and soft before I fuck it.”
Fuck! Liam thought to himself. Why was that so fucking sexy?
Over time, Lima had lost track of his weight. His body had been changing and growing so much that standing on the scales seemed like an unnecessary chore to confirm something that he already knew. Jake had found him some pants for work that came with an unexpectedly useful elasticated waistband. However his shirts were always a constant snug fit, stretching across his chubby torso. At one time, the size had felt frustratingly large to cater for his stout stomach, with too much material flapping around in the chest and arms. But as time went on, Liam’s chest expanded, alongside the tops of his arms, which swelled with blubbery softness. There wasn't a scrap of visible muscle on his entire body and that seemed to be the way that Jake liked him. Having never obtained his driving licence, Liam had been used to walking in order to get around the city. But now, with Jake, the newly obese boy was quite accustomed to being driven everywhere. He was spoiled and pampered as Jake seemed to be getting the most intense satisfaction from seeing him living out a life that was so opposite to his own intensely physical livelihood and hobbies.
It was around that time that Jake had wanted to start recording them having sex. He’d set up his cell phone on the side and experimented with different angles as Liam generally crouched on the bed with his butt up and ready. Afterwards, they’d watch them back, touching each other with lust at the sight of themselves, so dramatically contrasting. However, for Liam, there was so much more to these recordings. Despite the weight he knew he had packed on, he hadn’t quite realised how much his body was rippling with each thrust, nor the satisfaction that Jake seemed to get in making it happen. Playing it back he could visibly see Jake getting off on experimenting with his thrusting to make the powerful vibrations shift in as many different ways as possible. There was a small area of back fat that Jake’s hands seemed to shift backwards and forwards to, as if he was desperate to grab hold of and pound even harder with. Liam could see just how lardy he was in certain areas, where it bulged in his stomach and sagged in his chest and turned his thighs into tree trunks. He could also see how Jake’s hands explored from one to the other; the man’s face looking down upon it with a mixture of pride, disgust and dominance. Gleefully, he would slap the wide ass as he pounded, never failing to climax in a manner that suggested he received pure bliss from every last inch of it all.
Home alone, Liam began to watch the videos back as he touched himself. He’d promised his parents only the night before that he was going to try and lose some weight, yet there he was, feasting upon the cheesecake Jake had bought him, knowing that it would make his lover unreasonably horny to come home and see that it had all be consumed in a single day. Such acts of greed always aroused them both. For Jake, Liam assumed it was the fact that he was maintaining that soft, contrasting appearance that he found so alluring. However, for Liam, indulging as he did felt like the ultimate act of submission, reshaping his entire body to suit the man who fucked him. All other consequences of it failed to surpass the drive he had to make Jake moan deeply from a powerful orgasm whilst buried deep inside him.. But as Liam watched back the videos again and again, there was always a look upon Jake’s face as he came close to climaxing: a look of power, amusement and wicked intentions towards him. Each time Liam saw it, he couldn’t help but squirt everywhere himself. If only Jake could express that side of his personality more, Liam would be helpless to resist.
“You can talk!” Liam shot back, noting that Sam had waited until they were alone to comment on his weight. It had been over eight months since he had first met Sam, rather briefly. Back then, he had been amazed by the sheer scale of Sam’s tummy. Now that stomach had clearly swollen to an incredible circumference, bringing along with the largest, puffiest arms Liam had ever seen.
“I’m starting to get that gut droop!” he chuckled, reaching underneath and jiggling the soft overhang that was almost visible under his t-shirt. “Will is in his element playing with it all.”
“Will’s really into it then?” Liam asked, feeling a spike of excitement as the conversation took this turn. He’d pondered for months about just how kinky the couple might be. Now he may finally get some answers.
“Of course he is!” Sam chuckled. “I could tell within five minutes the type of guy he was. My belly was relatively small back then too. It didn’t take a genius to work out what would happen if I dated him.”
“And you don’t mind?” Liam asked next, delighted with how open Sam was being.
“Look at them both,” Sam simply pointed to their muscular boyfriend standing in the queue for ice creams. “Those horny little fuckers are having the time of their lives packing the pounds on us. They think they’re so clever and cunning. Who could resist that?”
Liam turned, spotting Jake and Will laughing to each other. Perhaps they were making fun of how fat he had grown in the time since they’d all last seen each other. Then again, was he just imagining that because he was a little horny? The shorts he had chosen to wear for this weekend away with Will and Sam were more than a little fitted and revealing of his thick, blubbery thighs. So far, Jake had hardly been able to keep his hands off the wide load that had become his giant backside at close to 340lbs.
“Will told me he met Jake at the gym, but I reckon they both came across each other on some fat fetish website or something,” Sam continued to ponder, watching both of the boys enjoying each other’s company so much.
Liam flushed with a little embarrassment, noting how familiar he had become with such websites in recent months. Time and again he had crept back and climaxed whilst talking to guys about how much weight he had packed on since he had dated a guy who seemingly just liked to keep his well-drilled butt soft, fat and under-exercised. “Jake told me they’d met at a summer camp when they were in middle school,” he replied.
The pair of them chuckled, realising that they had both been misled by the rather obvious lie. “Those devious bastards! Will didn't even move here with his family until he was seventeen!” Sam smirked, enjoying the naughtiness of his lover just as much as Liam did.
Not long afterwards, the two men arrived back carrying giant ice creams for both Liam and Sam. Liam could feel Jake gently rubbing his wide back as he ate and noted the stares of passers-by as he sucked and licked at the fattening ice cream. Perhaps they could tell that he had fallen into the clutches of some kink-fuelled hedonistic relationship. Maybe they looked down on him, or felt sympathy? However, it was only lust that consumed Liam. Pure, inescapable eroticism at every last detail of his situation.
Despite his significantly larger stomach, Sam charged ahead with Will during the walk to the restaurant. Liam lagged behind, feeling the fat wobbling on his thighs and noting how Sam’s butt was comparatively slender than his own. The man continued to work in retail and was up on his feet most of the day. Whereas Liam had only ever worked in an office and, since dating Jake, had pretty much been dropped off and picked up from the door of his workplace every single day. He paused for a moment, wincing a little.
“My thighs are rubbing together like crazy today,” he grumbled. “I think these shorts were a mistake.”
“They definitely weren’t!” Jake shot back, giving Liam’s wide rear a satisfied pat. “It’s not much further to this restaurant and I’ll fetch the car afterwards so I can pick you up from outside.”
Liam nodded, pleased that Jake always found such simple solutions. He hadn’t really wanted to walk back on a full stomach. Especially not when he felt as ridiculously horny as he had that day. Even now, he could feel blood pumping towards his groin, ensuring that he would make an absolute pig of himself when he was finally unleashed upon the buffet.
“I think your boyfriend needs to get a little more exercise from time to time,” Will teased when Jake finally arrived beside a sweating Liam at the foyer of the all-you-can-eat place.
“Or maybe you should just pick restaurants that don’t involve such a trek next time,” Jake grumbled back, slipping his powerful arm over his exhausted lover as if proud of how out of shape he was.
Jake’s hand was never far from Liam’s thick thigh as they sat down at the table. After a couple of rounds selecting his own food, Jake had soon taken over. “Are you going to cut his food up for him too?” Will joked, seeing how dutifully Jake attended to Liam. However, Jake merely smiled back, rubbing Liam’s wide back encouragingly. If this had been a competition to see which of their fat lovers could eat the most, Jake was winning by quite a considerable margin. Despite the fact that Sam was at least 50lbs heavier, it was clear that he was less capable of consuming the vast quantities of starchy, bloating foods that had been Jake’s usual choice to serve up to Liam over the last couple of years. More than once, Liam caught Jake smirking with superiority at how much more obviously greedy Liam was than Sam.
After several desserts, Jake soon disappeared to collect the car, arriving at the front of the restaurant within a ridiculously small amount of time, only highlighting how insignificant the journey there had actually been. Will was trying to insist that large bellied Sam should take the front seat, however, Jake was having none of it, patting the prime position for his heavy reared boy instead.
Back at the beach house they had rented for the weekend, Liam settled down on the couch, now realising how much the bloat was setting in. Sam followed shortly, dropping his heavy body down and slouching back so that his double chin formed a giant framing ring around his entire face. “Your Jake was talking about us using the pool shortly,” Sam explained lethargically, grabbing the TV remote.
“I don’t know if I have the energy for that,” Liam chuckled back, rubbing his strained stomach.
“Oh, come on. You know he doesn’t actually want you to use the pool,” Sam smirked. “Jake helicopters over you all day long, trying to ensure you don’t move a muscle. He just wants to show off your body to Will. That’s pretty much the whole reason those kinky bastards booked this weekend. You wouldn’t believe some of the meals Will was cooking me in the last few weeks, secretly making sure I was in the best shape for it.”
“He fed you up good, huh?” Liam asked, getting aroused by the idea.
“He certainly did!” Sam nodded. “He thinks he’s so subtle about it all as well,” he laughed, glancing outside to where the two strapping boys were perched on the deck; laughing and enjoying each other’s company. In any other world, the pair might have made a really hot gay couple, fit to appear on the front cover of a steamy magazine. Yet, there they both were, most likely swapping stories of how they stealthily packed on pounds and pounds of lard onto the obese boys they got such a kick out of fucking.
“Jake gets so turned on by your sweet tooth, doesn’t he?” Sam continued. “At one point, I thought he was going to bend you over the table and fuck you right there in the restaurant after all those desserts you finished up,” the fat boy teased.
“Oh, I wish he would!” Liam sighed longingly. “When we’re at home together he can get so worked up that he needs to fuck me several times a day!”
Sam smirked back at him, enjoying the opportunity to speak so freely about their shared pleasures in dating such similar guys. “Don’t you wish they were a little bit more open about it though?” Sam asked. “I mean, it’s so obvious that Will is into this whole weight gain stuff, yet he never comes right out and says it.”
Liam nodded in agreement. “I’d be so turned on if Jake just told me he wanted me fatter,” he stated emphatically. For months now, he had dreamed and wished for such a day as that; when he could finally submit to those barely concealed kinks Liam had come to appreciate so wholeheartedly.
Despite their full stomachs, the two obese boys soon disappeared off to put on their swimwear; Jake and Will immediately swarming around them both as they emerged with all their flesh on show. Will’s hand was soon sliding to the fat that drooped from Sam’s belly, whilst Jake’s fingers flexed as they held Liam’s giant butt cheek. Therein lay the true difference between them: Will was obsessed with the size of his lover’s gigantic stomach, whilst, for Jake, it was all about making Liam’s ass as heavy and fuckable as possible.
With the hands of their lovers upon them, Sam and Liam glanced at each other. Were they actually going to do this? A final nod from Sam seemed to suggest so.
“We’ve got a surprise for you both,” Liam blurted out excitedly, already moving inside.
Sam nodded, pulling handsome Will in behind them. They led the way to the large corner sofa, each placing their lovers at either end. A cold beer was passed to them, then Liam eagerly trotted back to the refrigerator, pulling out the absolutely enormous cream-filled cake that had been bought for Will’s birthday the next day.
Sam was already on his knees on the floor when Liam brought the box down and joined him. He opened up the box, almost breathless with excitement as he saw Sam so excited to get started. Then, without a second thought, he plunged his chubby hand down into the cake, scooping out a giant handful and slapping it into Sam’s open mouth.
“Oh, fuck!” Jake gasped, twitching as if he had just been given the most instantaneous erection of his life.
With his hand pressed over Sam’s mouth, the large, blubbery boy was chewing and nibbling until he was at last sucking at Liam’s fingers to get at all the icing. “Eat up, Piggy!” Liam coaxed him. “We’ve got to get you nice and fat for Will’s birthday tomorrow…”
For the first time since Liam had met him, Will seemed utterly speechless, with a bemused look upon his face as Liam’s sticky hand grabbed at Sam’s lardy overhang and jiggled it for them all to see.
Sam smirked, reaching his own hand into the cake now, pressing it into Liam’s mouth whilst the guy ate enthusiastically at the giant serving pushing down on his tongue and prevented from escaping by Sam’s bloated fingers resting across his lips. “Come on, Fat Boy!” Sam whispered. “You’ve got some catching up to do,” he declared, clawing at a great roll of fat above Liam’s hip.
Again, the obese boys took turns feeding and jiggling each other. Now their lovers no longer hid the vertical bulges in their underwear as they watched it all from the couch. Will was the first one to dive in and start stroking himself under his clothes. With the floodgates opening, Jake pulled down his shorts, stroking his own shaft with a look of pure amusement and devilish delight on his face. He seemed so much more controlled than Will, who was slouching further into his seat, stroking furiously as he watched his 380lb lover being fed and deliberately fattened. Sam’s small, pig-like burp was all it took for Will to lose any inhibitions whatsoever, pulling off his shirt and pants before joining them both on the floor. Then Sam was taken into the most erotic kiss Liam had ever witnessed.
Liam watched on as Will and Sam became consumed by their own lust. Will had pressed his erection into one of Sam’s fat roles, gyrating his hips like he could climax at any second. The sight was so mesmerising that Liam hardly noticed that Jake had undressed himself.
“That was quite some stunt,” the muscular man chuckled, slapping Liam on his wide rear as Liam instinctively went onto all fours and allowed the swimwear to be removed.
“I think the birthday boy enjoyed it,” Liam teased back, still watching the horny couple as they moaned; Will’s hand taking over the task of pressing more cake into his lover’s mouth.
“What do you think is going to happen to Sam after tonight, though?” Jake asked. “Will’s a sweet guy but… you unleashed a monster. Do you think he can go back to subtly overfeeding Sam to cause a slow weight gain after you gave him this?” he chuckled, watching Will getting off on how obediently his lover was sucking every last crumb of the cake he was given. “Sometimes there’s a reason why these things aren’t said aloud. Now there’s nothing to stop him from making Sam as unreasonably fat and lardy as he wants. And trust me,” Jake chuckled, “he definitely will!”
Liam nodded, feeling a slight twinge of guilt.
“And as for you…” Jake continued, swiping his finger along the floor to gather the remains of the smeared cake frosting. “... now there’s nothing to slow me down either,” he grinned, painting around Liam’s mouth with all the sugary paste. “You forced my hand. Now I can’t hide the fact that, yes… I do want you fatter and greedier and lazier…”
Liam could feel his arousal spiking as the words dropped like tiny exploding bombs.
“I was prepared to take the slower path; overfeeding and pampering you… telling you that it’s okay that you’ve gotten a little big for your pants; cheering you up when you pop a button,” Jake declared, staring Liam straight in the eyes as he spoke. “But now I don’t have to. Now I can take you at my pace. I can show you what I really want to see… the giant sort of fatties I really get off to,” he nodded, reaching over and giving Liam’s wide, heavy glutes a firm slap.
Liam almost quivered with excitement, knowing that he was about to be fucked, right here in the lounge, in front of Sam and Will; his heart beating furiously with all the things Jake was telling him.
“I’m going to make you absolutely enormous…” Jake stated with complete seriousness. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the day I first clapped eyes on that chubby little rear of yours. You’re going to eat and grow… lay down on the couch, getting softer every single day. And I’m going to love every minute of it. Then I’m going to show you off and fuck you again and again.”
Liam moaned with pleasure, dropping his elbows to the floor so that his heavy, soft ass sat higher, waiting to be taken. He shuffled his knees wider, making his chest wobble and hang, preparing himself for what was coming. What had started as a little kinky fun that evening had clearly been so much more. He’d crossed a line. He could never go back now.
So, as Sam glanced across watching him as he was getting roughly pounded by his boyfriend, they could both come to one completely obvious conclusion: Things would never be the same again.
“So, what do you think?” asked Henry as his new boyfriend had finally disappeared into the restroom at the back of the restaurant.
Perry smirked back at his best friend from college. “He’s such a fat pig!” he replied as bluntly as he could.
Delighted, Henry laughed, stretching his arms up and resting them at the back of his head. “I know, right!” he nodded. “It’s like the little hog doesn’t even realise how fucking greedy he is! I can just keep topping him up with snacks and sodas all day long, and he just keeps on going!”
“You’re going to be able to turn him into an absolute whale!” smirked Perry, knowing that was absolutely Henry’s intention.
“I already am,” Henry grinned back, still resting his hands at the back of his head. “Believe it or not, he didn’t have those jiggly little tits on him when I asked him out two months ago.”
Perry could feel his arousal spiking. It had been incredible enough to find another gay guy on the college baseball team, but finding one who shared his love of fat guys had opened up a whole new world of fun for him. Back before they had graduated, the pair of them had systematically dated and seduced a plethora of increasingly chubby and significantly overweight college boys; their tastes in guys becoming ever more extreme: the fatter they were, the better.
“How much weight have you put on him?” Perry asked keenly.
“Hard to tell,” Henry shrugged. It was a problem they had always both struggled with, trying to find an excuse to put their oblivious fatties on the scales. “But at least 30lbs, I’d say.”
“In only two months?” Perry marvelled. Henry’s stealthy feeding tactics were obviously improving.
“I know!” Henry grinned back, nodding. “He’s getting these cute little stretch marks on his hips that he hasn’t even noticed yet.”
“On his hips?” Perry laughed, thinking it strange, but no less arousing, that a man should get stretch marks there first.
“It’s because his butt has been growing,” Henry laughed. “It bounces like crazy when I’m fucking him!”
That was a nice image, Perry thought to himself. He’d seen first hand how intense sex with Henry could be, having both had a threesome with a 320lbs chub Perry had been dating at the end of college. That fatty hadn’t known pleasure like it, having two handsome, athletic guys taking him out for dinner and then making him climax several times afterwards.
All too soon, Henry’s easily 270lb new lover had returned, smiling with happiness as muscular Henry sat back in the booth with him, resting his strong arm over the chub’s shoulders. It was obvious that the soft, doughy boy felt like he had won the lotto by dating such a doting and openly affectionate guy like Henry. It never failed to amuse either of them how naive such chubs were; always failing to realise that they were actually in the presence of such prolific feeders.
“Perry wants to grab some ice cream after this,” Henry lied, stroking the chubby upper arms of his lover. “You wanna grab some too?”
“Yeah, okay,” the chub nodded.
A wicked glint flashed in Henry’s eyes as he looked over at Perry. Overfeeding these chubs was always so pathetically easy. Perry hadn’t been able to help masturbating as soon as he made it home, remembering just how much Henry’s new boyfriend had gorged himself under their care.
Meeting up with Henry was always such fun, reminding Perry of those care-free days of college. However, real life was not quite so laid back. Graduate positions weren’t as easy to come by as the professors had made out. Unlike Henry, he’d had to take a position far away from the city; one with high expectations and very few perks. It was a never ending source of frustration just how much they piled onto the junior staff, with everyone having to take on more and more just to stand out. Enjoying the time to date someone new, like Henry was doing, now seemed like something that was still at least a couple of years off.
“Are you going to join that new gym across the way when it opens?” asked Melanie, who had joined the staff at roughly the same time as Perry.
“As if I have time for the gym!” Perry grumbled back, staring at the ever increasing mountain of papers in his intray. The whole summer had seemed to pass him by without even so much as a vacation.
“You need to start doing something,” Melanie replied. “It’s not good for you just sitting at that desk all day.”
Perry glanced up at her and frowned. “What’re you saying?” he probed.
“You’re getting a little doughy,” she stated bluntly, like she was trying to rip off a band aid.
Pivotal moments happen in many lives, but even before Perry had glanced down at himself, he felt a surge of blood rushing towards his groin. “I am?” he asked, pressing his fingers into his stomach, which was indeed a little softer than he was used to. He slid his tie to the side and his eyes bulged a little. How had he never noticed the strain of his shirt button as he sat down?
“I think it’s been creeping up on you for the last few months,” Melanie continued. “You can see it in your face. Those pants of yours have just been looking tighter and tighter.”
“You think my ass has grown too?” Perry asked in complete surprise, but still needing clarification on Melanie’s meaning nonetheless.
“Definitely!” Melanie nodded. “When you bent over to pick up my stapler yesterday, I was almost certain those pants of yours were about to rip.” She shrugged. “I’m not trying to be mean…” she mumbled. “But, if I was getting chubby, I’d want someone to have the guts to tell me. So… there you have it.”
Having never been attracted to women, Perry knew that it wasn’t Melanie herself that was stimulating this sudden, strange and building arousal in him. Rather, it was her words, and perhaps especially the manner in which she was informing him so bluntly, echoing the way he and Henry had discussed the weight gain of others in the past. Whatever it was, Perry found himself sliding under his desk in order to hide the now significant erection, swelling down one leg on his tight pants. But, why? Gaining weight had never been his thing. Whilst he admired all those jiggly, chubby guys with their rolls and blubber, he had never before wanted to be like them. Had he? Just what the hell was this boner for then?
Getting home late, Perry immediately raced to the large mirror in his bedroom and stripped off. There was his hard-on once more, keen to see what damage had occurred to his body now he was actually going to take the time to study it. Jeez! When had his abs disappeared so completely? There was a strange width to his waist, not necessarily paunchy or fat, but just… swollen. He spun around, trying to stretch and study his tight little glutes which, if he was really honest with himself, had undergone the same strange treatment. A gentle widening had occurred, making them softer to the touch as he reached his hand back and delicately bounced one up and down. It even felt like some of the chubby glutes he had played with in the past. Standing to the side, he could see exactly what Melanie was trying to tell him. He was undeniably bigger; the distance between the furthest point of his swollen middle and the furthest extent of his butt was certainly thicker, challenging that view he had always had of himself as athletic.
Grabbing onto his dick, it was almost pathetic how quickly he came from his own reflection. Yet that little ball of sexual excitement did not dissipate, even afterwards. He went to his refrigerator and cupboards, seeing for the first time just how much the cheap, easy snacks had been building up in his diet, until there was almost nothing else to select from. He pulled out a frozen pizza, sticking it in the oven with a selection of extra sides that had somehow become a habit to consume: easy, convenient and tasty.
Dropping the weight had of course been Perry’s aim. It was the sensible choice considering how easily the extra blubber had been piling up. He could hardly believe that he was so close to 200lbs, considering that he had always been one-sixty ever since the start of college. Yet, although the need to drop it felt inevitable, he could at least agree to let himself get through the latest big project at work before he tried to make time for a full regime of exercise and calorie cutting. He’d purchased larger pants and shirts for the short term, masking his weight better than before. Melanie had even told him how much slimmer he was looking, making Perry laugh at how easily duped she could be. Now when he unpeeled his clothes at night, his small, private belly could emerge, turning him on more than he ever thought it could. It was still there, still swollen and, if the scales were anything to go by, still quietly growing.
January, Perry decided. That was the best time to start cutting. One large project had led on to another, and so there was never going to be a clean time period in which he could start taking better care of himself. It would simply have to be started at the usual generic time, alongside so many others who wanted to drop the pounds after the holidays. But having that fixed date in his head had somehow given Perry the permission to indulge a little more than usual. So what if he grabbed some doughnuts on the way into work? He was going to lose the weight soon. Did he want a side order of cheesy fries with his pizza? Yeah, why not? He’d soon be stuck eating salads for every meal.
The pounds were creeping on. Perry could see the paunch bloating into his larger shirts; his pecs softening and his jawline fading. He’d gained ten extra pounds since September, with every inch of it showing with quite startling realness as he gazed at his naked reflection each evening. Although never fool-proof, Perry had become quite skilled at concealing it as best he could. With the holidays, came the opportunity to wear large, thick sweaters and layers which even made him appear rather buff and strong. The fact that he had made it around most of his family without a word of criticism for his weight (at least, not to his face), made him feel emboldened to finally meet up with his old friend Henry after months of putting it off.
“What the fuck, dude?” Henry laughed the moment he saw Perry standing at the bar waiting for him. “What the hell happened?” he asked, immediately jabbing Perry in the stomach.
Having already bought Henry a beer, Perry handed it to him, slinking away from the bar so that others would not overhear the inevitable onslaught that would occur now that Henry had noticed his weight gain.
“I message you, like every other day,” Henry continued, sitting down at a high table next to his buddy. “You didn’t think to mention the fact that you’d turned into a chub?”
“I’m not a chub!” Perry shot back in surprise at such a word being used to describe him.
“You fucking are!” Henry nodded back, standing up again to get a better look at Perry now that he was perched on the chair. “Jeez! Look at that gut on you!”
Perry sucked in slightly and squirmed. Never in his life had he anticipated being on the receiving end of Henry’s blunt observations of fatter physiques. “It’s just a little holiday weight,” he shrugged. “I’ll soon lose it.”
Dude, you’re like, 50lbs heavier than when I last saw you in March.” Henry shot back. “That’s not holiday weight!”
Perry rolled his eyes. He thought his clothes choices would save him today, but there was Henry getting the exact figure of how much he had piled on, all from a single sweeping observation of his form. “Work’s just been crazy…” he began as Henry at last sat himself back down opposite him.
“Do you know who you look like?” Henry jumped in, cutting him off completely. “That straight guy on our campus you used to be obsessed with. The one who developed that beer gut in our second year.”
“Dillon?” Perry enquired, getting aroused at the memory of the fine, stout specimen.
“That’s the one!” Henry nodded. “You’re like his twin!”
Perry couldn’t help rubbing his stomach. Did he really carry the same tight, fattened gut like his crush from four years ago?
Henry took a drink from his beer and spent a moment just studying Perry’s face. “Are you getting off on this?” he asked bluntly. “Is this, like… part of your kink?”
“No!” Perry replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I told you, it’s just because work has been so…”
Henry shot out a laugh. “LIAR!” he declared, having always been able to tell when Perry wasn’t being completely honest. “You’re rubbing that new belly and jerking yourself off every night, aren’t you?”
Perry merely shook his head, knowing that Henry would tell that he was lying the moment he spoke a single word. “What?” he asked indignantly, seeing that Henry was constantly studying his face for clues as to what was actually going on here..
“Nothing,” Henry smirked, raising his hands in innocence. “It’s just that I’ve known you over six years and I NEVER anticipated that you were the type to do this to yourself.”
“I haven’t done anything!” Perry continued to protest. The more he denied it, the more he seemed to believe it himself. “It’s just because work has been so stressful!”
“Sure… sure!” Henry nodded, deciding to back down and move the conversation on; at least for a little while.
Perry’s eyes widened as he spotted the advert for his perfect job later that week. Already exhausted at the thought of returning to work, the prospect of a higher position at a firm back in the city felt like something in his life was finally clicking into place. He smiled brightly as he read the job specification, already constructing his application letter in his head. Then, for the next three evenings, he crafted that application again and again, until he had it exactly as he wanted.
“Did you get it?” messaged Henry a couple of hours after the interview; his communications becoming even more frequent since having met up with Perry in December. He’d been delighted when he’d heard that everything had gone well, offering up his spare room for his old friend to stay in whilst he settled back into the city. If only Perry’s work colleagues had been as kind. Having learned that their underpaid, overworked and undervalued employee was soon to be moving on, the management had been nothing short of vile with him. Despite Perry’s resolve to begin his diet at the end of January, the stress of his interview, and the consequences of its success, had made it impossible for him to consider taking on any extra change in his life.
“Welcome to Chub Paradise!” Henry grinned, opening the door to his apartment as Perry arrived with a bag full of his belongings.
Perry chuckled at the name Henry used for his place. It was true that, within these walls, Henry had wined and dined several lucky porkers, quietly fattening them up with each visit; always ending their relationships with Henry with a lot more extra pounds than they had anticipated. Surprisingly, Henry had dinner all prepared and ready for them both, with enough space in the otherwise cramped living area for a sophisticated table and chairs for them to sit at.
Despite expecting further criticism from Henry about the added weight he’d gained since the holidays, Perry was surprised to find that the atmosphere was very relaxed. Dinner was tasty, with a generous dessert following along afterwards, alongside plenty of beers. The ease with which the conversation flowed between them both never failed to cement the fact that Henry was the very best friend that Perry had ever had. He fell into bed that night, feeling full and content that things were finally starting to go right for him.
It began with a pinching at the hips little more than a couple of weeks into Perry’s new job. His new work pants were getting tight again. His love handles had further inflated and, for the first time in his life, he was starting to feel the fat in his chest properly jiggling as he walked about the office. He was putting on weight again, despite his resolve to get more disciplined once he was settled in this new job. However, the speed of it all was rather alarming. More than once he had been referred to as ‘Big Guy’ by some of his new colleagues. Four weeks in and he was shocked to discover that he was up by an incredible twenty pounds.
“I just don’t understand it,” Perry complained after dinner. “I eat exactly the same as you each night, yet my gut feels like it’s inflating like some sort of hot air balloon.”
Henry frowned. “When have I ever eaten the same food as one of my guests?” he asked simply, as if questioning whether Perry truly knew him at all. “Sure, it might look similar to what I serve you, but it’s not the same,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“What do you mean?” Perry asked, suddenly very aware of the weight of all he had eaten sitting in his stomach, waiting to be digested.
“Well, your stuff is higher in calories, of course. Oils, creams, powders… you know,” he replied casually. “The same thing I always do when I’ve got a chub staying here.”
“Dude!” Perry exclaimed. “I didn’t know you’d use that sort of shit on ME!”
“You said you liked my cooking!” Henry shot back, laughing. “I know you go back into your bedroom and jerk off rubbing that bloated tummy every night. What’s the big deal? It’s fun! I’m just giving you more of what you want.”
“No, I don’t!” Perry lied once more, trying to conceal the fact that even this conversation was somehow arousing him. “What the fuck, Henry?” he complained. “How many calories have you just made me eat?”
Henry looked him up and down, smirking. “Combied with that dessert… more than enough to get those tits of yours to come in better. You could bust that chubby ass of yours at the gym for the next five hours and still not work them all off.”
At that moment, Perry’s arousal felt totally at odds with his own reasoning. He couldn’t allow himself to get caught in Henry’s usual traps and spiralling weight gain enablement. Yet, his dick was getting firmer by the second at the thought of how completely effortless it could be for him to experience even more fat gains whilst living here. Just like all of Henry’s food, it was only after he had finished eating that he felt it starting to bloat him, as if swelling in his stomach and filling every last crevice. “I’m not one of your little pigs to toy with!” he shot back hoping that his angry tone would mask the conflicting feelings within.
Henry didn’t flinch. “Go look at your reflection in the mirror and try to say that with a straight face!” he replied unsympathetically. “You’re a fatty, Perry! Stop trying to make out that you’re somehow better! We both know you’ll be back in that bedroom later, cracking one out over how soft your butt is getting.”
Perry opened his mouth to reply, but faltered. “I’m… That’s…” he stuttered, too overcome by Henry’s rudeness to think clearly.
“Do you remember the threesome we had with that lardass you dated in college?” Henry asked, flipping the conversation on its head. His tone was one of obvious arousal at the memory of it and he rubbed his crotch as if this entire conversation had actually been getting him off the entire time. “I wonder how long it will be until I get your ass as jiggly as his was!”
At that, Henry pulled out his erection and began stroking it. Perry couldn’t help staring, fascinated by how much more substantial Henry’s dick was compared to his own.
“Suck it,” Henry demanded, getting himself up with his gym shorts resting above his knees and moving to stand in front of Perry’s chair. “You know you want to.”
Perry licked his lips, unable to calm himself down despite knowing how much better it would be for him if he managed to walk away. But as Henry brought his hips closer, Henry found his jaw unclenching and then the head of Henry’s dick sliding onto his tongue. He moaned in pleasure, having been starved of intimacy with anyone for months. His hands reached back, cupping Henry’s tight, muscular butt and pulling the shaft even deeper down his throat. His nose inhaled the scent of him with delight, setting to work on the best blow job he had ever delivered.
“Oh, yeah… that’s right, Fatty!” Henry moaned, resting his large hand at the back of Perry's head. “Suck your feeder off!”
At that, Perry felt an irresistible urge to tug himself off too, reaching into his pants and stroking furiously.
“Good pig!” Henry teased further, his erection pulsing in Perry’s mouth in a manner that suggested this wouldn’t take long. “You’re my Fatty now!”
Premature ejaculation had never been a problem for Perry, but even as he tried to let go of his own dick and slow things down, the whole thing erupted furiously. Henry pulled out to watch it happening, smirking with glee. Then he worked his own hand to quickly bring himself to a climax just moments afterwards, holding Perry’s jaw open so that he could deliver it all straight onto the chub’s tongue.
Henry exhaled in satisfaction, grinning at the mess Perry had made of himself below. Then he slumped back down onto the couch, grabbing the tv remote control and aiming it. “So, what movie do you want to watch tonight?”
After that evening, sex with Henry could spring from anywhere. Perry could be getting showered one more before work and Henry would slide in beside him. After a gym session, Henry could often return looking sweaty and flustered, with a single focus to drill his dick into Perry’s wider butt, flipping him over onto his front with ease. However, there was always one time that was guaranteed to end in an orgasm: right after Perry had consumed his evening meal. It was always best not to know what was inside those dishes, but from the lustful way that Henry stared at him as he chewed, Perry knew that his compliance was only going to lead him on a path to even further weight gain. He could feel it all building in his chest, puffing up his arms and swelling his love handles in a way that pushed his arms out ever so slightly more. Henry would laugh and say that he could see it in Perry’s broader butt and softening thighs; stroking and calling attention to the new double chin every time he kissed him.
Going from friends to a more sexual relationship had felt surprisingly natural. Having talked for years about their kinks and pleasures, the act of exploring this together didn’t feel like too much of a stretch, despite the unexpected nature of it all. Perry claimed with determination that his surrender to this lifestyle was only temporary, until he saved up enough to get his own place. However, Henry never failed to smirk at this, as if he didn’t believe a word. But, in his own way, Henry could also play along for his own benefit. Why not order in some pizza at midnight and have some kinky fun in the bedroom? After all, Perry would be moving out and starting his diet soon. How fun would it be to see if Perry could down this entire carton of cream on the way home? Perry might as well enjoy those cream cakes from the nice bakery while he could. There’d be no such luxuries once that diet started!
Stepping on the scales was not a regular occurrence. For the most part, Henry seemed content just watching Perry’s clothes become ever more snug, as well as the subtle changes in movement as the chubby man walked about the apartment. Seeing that he had surpassed 250lbs had made Perry’s eyes bulge, but now he was over 280lbs and continuing to feel the further strain of his clothes that signalled even greater fat gains. It was incredible how quickly he had got used to his fluffy chest and wobbling nipples, his love handles pressing out of his work shirts, as well as the technique for shaving under his double chin. However, the sheer mass of Perry’s physique was something that he was still failing to understand. He’d lost count of how many times he had unsuccessfully tried to squeeze himself through a tight space, or knocked something over with his surprisingly bulbous rear. Henry laughed and said that he had seen the same thing time and time again with his ex-lovers. Whilst a fat guy could see his massive ass and ball-like gut in the mirror, navigating it around the real world always seemed to take time to get used to.
In truth, Perry quietly came to realise that, even with the best diet and exercise regime in the world, he was unlikely to ever be able to return to the slender, athletic man he had been back in college. Breaking 300lbs had seemed to smash that illusion in its entirety. There was so much extra mass on him, and none of it was muscle. He had so many clothes cluttering up his closet, getting rid of the ones he was least likely to ever fit back into just seemed like common sense. Then, as he became ever more frustrated by the lack of space, he was suddenly getting rid of all of it, embracing the elasticated waistbands and stretchy fabrics that would only play further into Henry’s hands.
Perry grunted as he squeezed his large body out of the shower, making Henry laugh as he watched from the sidelines,never missing an opportunity to observe Perry in his full, naked glory. “It’s all getting a little too small for you around here, huh, Piggy?”
Despite himself, his ever shortening dick stiffened a little at Henry’s teasing words. He lifted his arms, allowing Henry to dry him off with the towel; a chore that the kinky feeder had been keen to relieve him of ever since 360lbs had made reaching his own back such a challenge. “That shower of yours isn't fat-friendly,” he simply nodded in reply.
“So, how about instead of getting your own place, we buy somewhere together instead?” Henry asked, drying the fold of skin under Perry’s chest fat. “Somewhere where a 500lb guy could live quite happily,” he smirked.
“Five hundred?” Perry repeated back in alarm. “Five hundred!”
Henry grinned, dropping the towel, bending down and inspecting under Perry’s large, ball-shaped stomach. “That woke him up!” he laughed, giving Perry’s short, but very hard erection a little tug.
“Henry… I really need to try and slow down a little,” Perry tried as he stood in the mirror, watching Henry begin to stroke his dick in the way that really got him off quickly, slow, full movements up and over the head. Why was Henry so damn awesome at this every single time? He moaned, feeling his resolve fading away.
“You’ll be my masterpiece!” Henry whispered soothingly into his ear. “That handsome, kinky guy I met in college. The one who packed a full 50lbs of pure lard onto his sweet little college boyfriend, now transformed into a grotesque, gluttonous hog himself!”
Perry tried to breathe in deeply and control things, but Henry knew the trigger words that never failed to spike his arousal. “I can’t just be a fat hog…” he replied, beginning to lean into the role play a little.
“Look at yourself, Fatty! You already are a fat hog!” Henry shot back, knowing exactly how to stimulate his lover. With his other hand, he reached around, grabbing a full wedge of fat in Perry’s love handles and wobbling it ruthlessly.
Perry snorted like a pig: a response that had been trained into him over several months and now something that he did without even thinking. The sensation of all that fat rippling across his body was sending him into a tornado of lust. How had he allowed himself to get so enormous? He’d once had a body so like Henry’s, and been his equal when picking up guys in college. Now he was just a play thing; the fat guy most folks didn’t look twice at, the one his family no longer felt they understood.
“Are you going to be my 500lb hog?” Henry demanded of him.
His knees almost buckling under the power of the building orgasm, Perry nodded and oinked until he moaned; continuing to do so until his balls felt like they had been completely drained.
Henry smiled proudly, tapping Perry on his large rear like he had done a great job. Then, the devious feeder sank to the floor, holding a clean pair of gigantic fresh underwear for Perry to climb into.
“Leg up, Fatty!” he ordered the monstrous boy as he began to help him dress. “I’m taking you out for a nice, big breakfast to celebrate!”
Perry knew that there wouldn’t be anyone else from now on. He was Henry’s, and Henry was his. Chubby chasing was over for him. He was the fatty now; the greedy, gluttonous, overfed and underexercised pig his dick always used to get so hard at seeing. But, more than that, he was on a journey to become even bigger than every last one of them.
The bass thumped like a heartbeat, reverberating through the crowded club as neon lights flickered in rhythmic pulses. Simon glanced at his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. His blond hair was artfully tousled, and he wore a tight white tee that clung to his slim frame, tucked into skinny black jeans. He was used to attention but felt a little jittery tonight. Michael, his best friend, coworker and fellow roommate, had dragged him out, insisting they needed to "blow off steam" after a hectic week at the clothing store.
“Look around, Simon,” he said, gesturing with his empty glass. “This place is teeming with men who would kill to buy a twink like you a drink.”
“All they want is a one-night stand.”
“And what's wrong with that?”
Michael winked, then disappeared into the throng of bodies on the dance floor, leaving Simon standing at the bar. Simon scanned the room. That’s when he noticed him: a man in his late thirties just a few feet away, casually leaning against the bar like he owned the place. Broad shoulders filled out a crisp navy button-up that strained slightly over his chest, and his brown hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him an effortlessly mature air. His biceps flexed slightly as he raised a glass of whiskey to his lips. The man’s gaze met Simon’s. His brown eyes softened into a smile, and he walked over with the confidence of someone who had nothing to prove.
“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and warm. “I’m Jeff.”
Simon blinked, caught off guard.
“Oh, hi. Simon.”
He shook Jeff’s offered hand, his smaller fingers disappearing in Jeff’s firm grip.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Jeff said, nodding at Simon’s nearly empty glass. “Mind if I get you one?”
Simon hesitated for a split second before nodding.
“Sure, why not?”
Jeff signaled to the bartender and ordered another gin and tonic for Simon. As they waited, Jeff turned to face Simon fully, towering over him in a way that was somehow both intimidating and intoxicating.
“So, what brings you here tonight, Simon?”
“My roommate dragged me out,” Simon said. “I’m not much of a club person, honestly.”
Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Really? You look like you fit right in.”
“Thanks, I think?” Simon replied, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.
Jeff chuckled. “It’s a compliment.”
Simon's drink arrived, and they clinked glasses before taking sips. The conversation flowed effortlessly—Jeff talked about his work as a Realtor, his passion for architecture and how much he loved discovering hidden gems in the city. Simon shared stories about the chaos of working retail with Michael. Before long, Jeff leaned in closer, his cologne—a mix of cedar and spice—invading Simon’s senses.
“Do you dance?” Jeff asked, his tone playful.
“I do,” Simon said, shyly.
Jeff extended a hand. “Come on, then.”
Simon placed his hand in Jeff’s, letting him lead him to the dance floor. The music was loud, the beat infectious, and Jeff’s presence steady and grounding. They moved together, Jeff’s strong hands guiding Simon’s hips until Simon let go of his self-consciousness. Their bodies pressed closer, and Simon felt a flutter in his chest every time Jeff’s dark eyes locked on his.
“Simon, I’d like to keep talking. My place isn’t far. Would you like to come over?”
Simon hesitated, glancing around for Michael. He caught his friend on the far side of the dance floor, waving and flashing a thumbs-up. Taking a deep breath, Simon turned back to Jeff.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
The sleek black SUV pulled into the underground garage of a luxury high-rise in downtown. Simon looked out the window, marveling at the clean lines of the building and the shimmering skyline. Jeff parked the car effortlessly and turned to him.
“Welcome to my place,” he said.
Simon followed Jeff to the elevator, their hands brushing as they walked. When they stepped into Jeff’s apartment, Simon’s jaw dropped. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a stunning view of the city, and the open-concept living room was immaculate, with modern furniture, tasteful artwork, and a kitchen that looked straight out of a magazine.
“This is... wow,” Simon said, turning to Jeff.
Jeff set his keys on the counter.
“Glad you like it. Make yourself at home.”
Simon wandered over to the windows, while Jeff grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine. He handed Simon a glass, their fingers grazing, before leaning casually against the counter.
“You’re even more stunning in this light,” Jeff said softly, his voice like honey.
Simon felt heat rise to his cheeks.
“I bet you say that to everyone you bring here,” Simon teased, sipping his wine.
“Only when it’s true,” Jeff replied, his eyes never leaving Simon’s.
The tension between them simmered, and before Simon could respond, Jeff closed the distance between them. His hands slid gently around Simon’s tiny waist, pulling him close. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, filled with heat and longing. Simon melted into Jeff’s embrace. They moved to the bedroom, where the city lights cast a soft glow across the luxurious space. Clothes were shed, kisses trailed, and hands explored, Jeff’s touch both tender and consuming. Simon felt completely seen, completely adored.
After having amazing sex, they lay tangled in the sheets. Jeff’s arm was draped over Simon’s slender frame.
“You’re incredible,” Jeff murmured, his voice husky.
Simon turned to face him.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he teased.
Jeff smiled, then grew serious, his gaze softening.
“Simon, I want you to know something. I don’t just see this as a one-time thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I want to take care of you,” Jeff said, his voice earnest. “You seem special, Simon. I want to pamper you, spoil you, take you on dates...”
Simon blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Jeff’s words.
“Really?” he asked softly.
Jeff nodded.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean. Let me treat you the way you deserve.”
Simon felt a flutter in his chest, a mixture of excitement and disbelief. He had never been pursued so openly, so confidently.
“I... I think I’d like that,” he said.
Jeff grinned, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Simon’s forehead.
“Then how about dinner tomorrow night? A proper date.”
Simon nodded eagerly.
“Okay.”
Jeff pulled him closer, his strong arms enveloping Simon. As they lay together, Simon felt a sense of warmth and security he hadn’t experienced before.
***
Here he was, sitting in a vinyl booth at a 24-hour diner across from Jeff, who looked very happy. The warm smell of fried food and syrup hung in the air as Jeff casually flipped through the menu.
“Are you hungry?” Jeff asked, noticing Simon fidgeting with his straw.
“Only a little,” Simon lied, though his stomach growled softly in protest.
Jeff chuckled, the sound rich and warm. He flagged down the waitress.
“Two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries and two chocolate milkshakes. Oh, and a plate of waffles with ice cream for dessert. Sound good?”
He winked at Simon. Simon opened his mouth to object but couldn’t bring himself to ruin Jeff’s enthusiasm.
“That’s… a lot of food.”
“You don’t have to finish it all,” Jeff said with a shrug, though the gleam in his eye suggested he hoped Simon would.
When the food arrived, Simon stared at the towering cheeseburger, the golden fries glistening beside it, and the decadent milkshake topped with whipped cream. Jeff dug in without hesitation, biting into his burger with gusto and groaning in satisfaction.
“You’ve gotta try this,” Jeff said between bites. “It’s amazing.”
Simon hesitated, but the aroma was too tempting. He took a cautious bite, the melted cheese and juicy patty practically melting in his mouth. Before he knew it, he was reaching for the fries, then sipping the milkshake. Jeff watched him with a satisfied smile.
“See? Told you it was good.”
By the time the waffles arrived, Simon was full but couldn’t say no when Jeff slid the plate toward him. Two scoops of vanilla ice cream oozed over the warm, syrup-drenched waffles.
“Just a bite,” Jeff said, though Simon noticed the encouraging tone.
Simon groaned as he took a forkful.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“Only in the best way,” Jeff replied, smirking.
That first date set the tone for the beginning of relationship. Simon quickly discovered that Jeff had a talent for making indulgence seem irresistible. Every time they met—usually at Jeff’s spacious apartment, there was always something sweet in the kitchen. A pink box of fresh donuts on the counter. A chocolate cake with thick frosting in the fridge. A carton of premium ice cream in the freezer, always paired with Jeff’s insistence: “Have a little. You deserve it.” Jeff had a knack for making Simon feel special, showering him with compliments and small surprises. He’d pick Simon up after work, whisking him away to a cozy restaurant or back to his place, where they’d curl up with a movie and snacks. Jeff always seemed happiest when Simon gave in to his offers—taking the extra slice of pizza or savoring the brownie Jeff had baked himself.
At first, Simon didn’t think much of it. Jeff clearly loved seeing him happy, and the attention was intoxicating. But after about a month, Simon was starting to notice some changes. His skinny jeans felt a little tighter. His favorite shirt clung in places it hadn’t before. One evening, while stepping out of the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His once-flat stomach now had a slight curve, and his face seemed a touch softer. When he stepped onto the scale, the digital numbers blinked back:
15 pounds heavier.
Jeff entered the bathroom. His gaze dropped to the way the briefs hugged Simon’s growing hips and how the waistband strained against his softening waistline. Simon turned, catching Jeff staring.
“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing. You’re just… perfect.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but his blush betrayed him.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true,” Jeff murmured, wrapping an arm around Simon’s waist. He tugged him close.
“And you know what? I think you’re getting even more perfect.”
Simon squirmed slightly but didn’t pull away.
“But I’ve gained weight.”
Jeff grinned.
“Yes. And I love every single bit of you.”
His hands slid down, cupping Simon’s ass.
“Especially this.”
Simon let out a surprised laugh.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I?”
Jeff tilted his head. He gave Simon a gentle squeeze, earning a mock glare.
Over the next few weeks, Jeff’s obsession grew more obvious. He loved surprising Simon with treats, always framing it as an act of care. He’d surprise Simon with his favorite pastries, or he’d whip up elaborate dinners that always ended with a rich dessert. He never outright said it, but Jeff was thrilled to see Simon indulging. And Simon—despite his initial reservations—found it hard to resist. Jeff was so good at making him feel cherished. “You deserve to be spoiled,” Jeff would say, handing him a plate of double-fudge brownies. “Let me take care of you.” The results were impossible to miss. Simon’s hips filled out his jeans in a way they hadn’t before, and his thighs started to press against the seams. His briefs became a challenge to pull on, the fabric stretching tight over his fuller ass, often leaving the top of his cheeks exposed. Jeff loved those moments—catching Simon struggling with a waistband or seeing him shift uncomfortably on the couch, adjusting the fit of his too-tight clothes.
***
Curled up on the couch one lazy Saturday night, Simon sat with a bowl of his favorite ice cream while Jeff rested his hand on Simon’s thigh. Jeff’s hand kneaded the soft flesh.
“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Simon asked, glancing at Jeff with a teasing smile.
Jeff didn’t look embarrassed—if anything, he looked proud.
“Into what?”
“You know,” Simon said, gesturing vaguely at his body. “Fat.”
Jeff pulled him closer.
“I’m into you. I love everything about you. And yeah, I love that you’re letting me spoil you. I love how happy you look when you’re eating something you enjoy. And, if I’m being honest…” His hand slid lower, resting on Simon’s fuller backside. “I can’t get enough of how sexy you look.”
Simon’s face turned pink.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
Jeff’s adoration was undeniable, and it was hard for Simon not to feel flattered by all the attention. Still, he couldn’t ignore how his wardrobe was shrinking, or how every pair of briefs he owned now clung to him like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. But every time he caught Jeff staring—his brown eyes full of love and hunger—Simon couldn’t help but feel a thrill.
After having a coffee the following morning, Simon stood in front of the mirror. He realized his ass had grown a lot, spilling over the top of his briefs and making it impossible to find pants that fit properly. His tits and belly looked bigger too. He sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair as Jeff walked into the bedroom, carrying a pink box of donuts.
“You bought donuts again?” Simon asked, narrowing his eyes.
Jeff grinned.
“Of course. You love these.”
Simon crossed his arms over his chest.
“Jeff, we need to talk.”
Jeff set the box down on the nightstand, his brow furrowing.
“What’s wrong?”
“This,” Simon said, gesturing to himself. “I’ve gained twenty pounds, Jeff. My clothes don’t fit. I can’t keep eating like this.”
Jeff stepped closer, his hands finding Simon’s love handles.
“Simon, you look incredible.”
“I look chubby, I'm not a twin anymore” Simon shot back, his cheeks flushing.
Jeff tilted his head, his brown eyes softening.
“You look hot. You’ve always been gorgeous, but now… I don’t know. I love you like this.” His hands slid down to cup Simon’s big ass, squeezing gently. “Especially this. It drives me crazy.”
Simon tried to pull away, but Jeff held him firmly.
“Jeff, I mean it. I need to go on a diet.”
“You don’t need to do anything,” Jeff said, his voice low and soothing. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
Before Simon could protest, Jeff pulled a donut out—a glazed, sugar-dusted ring that practically sparkled under the light.
“Open up,” Jeff said, holding it to Simon’s lips.
“Jeff, I—”
“Shh.”
Jeff’s other hand slid around to Simon’s belly, his fingers brushing over the soft curve.
“You know I love you,” he murmured, his tone dripping with adoration. “Let me take care of you.”
Simon hesitated, his resolve wavering. Jeff leaned closer, his lips brushing against Simon’s ear.
“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” Jeff whispered. “You have no idea how crazy you make me, Simon.”
The sweet, buttery flavor melted on Simon’s tongue as Jeff’s hand continued its exploration, squeezing his developing man boobs and then reaching his dick.
“Good boy. You’re so sexy,” Jeff said, his hand jerking him off. “Every time I see you in these tight little briefs, I lose my mind.”
Simon swallowed.
“I don’t feel—”
“Shh,” Jeff cut him off. He picked up another donut, holding it between his fingers like it was something precious, and crouched to meet Simon’s gaze. “I love how soft you’ve gotten. How much you’ve let me take care of you.”
“Jeff…” Simon began, but his voice faltered when Jeff brought the second donut to his lips.
“Open,” Jeff said, his tone both gentle and commanding.
Simon hesitated but parted his lips. He took a bite, the sugary glaze melting on his tongue.
“Good,” Jeff said with a satisfied smile. “That’s my boy.”
Simon moaned as Jeff continued to feed him. By the time he was on his third donut, Jeff stop jerking him off and his fingers slipped under the waistband of his briefs, tugging it down to expose Simon’s round butt cheeks. He gave them a slap. Simon was torn between embarrassment and excitement.
“Do you really like my new curves?,” Simon asked.
“You have no idea,” Jeff replied, grabbing another donut.
Simon finished it slowly.
“I can’t eat anymore,” he murmured, his voice shaky.
“Yes, you can,” Jeff said, his hard dick now entering Simon's ass. “For me.”
Jeff gave Simon another donut.
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Jeff said, his voice thick with desire. “And you’re going to let me love every inch of you.”
***
A few months passed, and Simon barely recognized himself. His once-fitted clothes had long been replaced by stretchier options that could accommodate his growing figure. His belly was soft and round, resting comfortably over the waistband of his sweatpants, and his hips and thighs had thickened noticeably, giving him a fuller, almost plush appearance. Jeff, of course, was over the moon. His constant attention and affection made it impossible for Simon to feel anything but adored, even as he packed on more weight. Simon loved how Jeff’s eyes would light up every time he grabbed an extra helping or indulged in the treats Jeff always seemed to have on hand.
One Saturday afternoon, Simon sat on the couch of his shared apartment in his underwear, lazily scrolling through his phone. Michael arrived after being on a date.
“Holy crap,” he blurted out, his wide eyes scanning Simon’s body. “Look at you”
Simon glanced up.
“What?”
“You’ve gotten huge!” Michael said, gesturing toward Simon’s belly. “Is this Jeff’s doing?”
Simon shrugged, trying to hide his smile.
“He just likes spoiling me, okay?”
“Simon,” Michael said, exasperated. “You were, like, a twink icon, and now—” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I mean, are you happy?”
Simon looked down at himself, running a hand over his soft stomach. He thought about Jeff—the way he looked at Simon, touched him, worshiped him—and nodded.
“Yeah. I am.”
Michael groaned.
“Whatever.”
Simon was sprawled on Jeff’s bed later that night, recounting the interaction while Jeff rubbed his fat belly, grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“He called me huge.”
Jeff chuckled.
“He’s right,” Jeff said, his voice low and reverent. “You are huge now.”
Simon blushed.
“My sexy ex-twink,” Jeff murmured, pressing kisses to his belly. “You’ve let me take care of you so well. And look at you now. You’re perfect.”
His hands roamed freely, exploring every curve, every new softness. Simon shivered, his embarrassment melting under Jeff’s touch and words. He loved how much Jeff adored him, how desired he felt despite—or maybe because of—his growing body.
“You’re mine,” Jeff said. “My beautiful, fat boy. And I’m going to keep loving you—and feeding you—for as long as you let me.”
Simon moaned as Jeff’s mouth engulfed his dick. He didn’t really care about Michael’s reaction or the numbers on the scale. All that mattered was Jeff and the way he made him feel like the most cherished person in the world.
Jeff stirred awake, the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he turned his head to see Simon already sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stretched, his arms reaching overhead, and Jeff couldn’t take his eyes off the way his soft belly rounded and shifted with the movement. His love handles curved gently over the waistband of his new briefs, which had also grown so tight that they seemed to struggle to contain him. The fabric cut into his hips, emphasizing the generous swell of his behind, which jiggled slightly as he stood. Jeff bit his lip as Simon hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the too-small briefs and tugged them down, revealing the full glory of Simon’s ass. It was round and plush, its fullness accentuated by the way it swayed naturally with each step toward the bathroom. His thighs rubbed together as he walked, the soft flesh shifting with every movement. As Simon stepped into the bathroom, Jeff heard the sound of the shower starting, water splashing against the tiles. He couldn’t resist any longer. Throwing the covers aside, he padded across the room and slipped into the steamy bathroom.
“Jeff!” Simon exclaimed, half-turning to look at Jeff.
“Couldn’t stay in bed,” Jeff said with a hard-on.
The water ran down Simon’s body in rivulets, highlighting every curve. His belly glistened under the spray, the soft flesh jiggling slightly as he shifted his weight. Jeff’s hands found Simon’s hips almost instinctively, pulling him close.
“You’re stunning,” Jeff murmured, his voice husky.
Simon rolled his eyes, though his lips curved into a shy smile.
“Well, I'm almost 300 pounds.”
Jeff's fingers started kneading Simon's belly, marveling at its warmth and softness.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered.
Simon shivered as Jeff’s hands slid lower, tracing the curve of his thighs before moving back up to cup his ass. Jeff squeezed gently, his hands full.
“You’re obsessed,” Simon said, his voice breathy.
“Completely,” Jeff admitted, planting a kiss on Simon’s lips. “You’re everything to me. I love you”
“I love you too, but I'm worried I'll never be fat enough for you.”
Simon turned around and leaned against the smooth tile. Jeff's hands rested on Simon’s thick waist, fingers sinking slightly into the soft flesh. His round belly jiggled slightly with every shift, and his love handles spilled over Jeff’s large hands. Jeff’s touch was deliberate, reverent, as he let his palms slide along Simon’s sides, squeezing gently. Then his hands moved up, cupping Simon’s chest. His thumbs grazed over Simon’s soft man boobs, teasing the sensitive nipples. Simon gasped, arching his back slightly. Jeff leaned down to kiss the curve of Simon’s neck.
“I want to pamper you even more.”
Simon's belly quivered as Jeff’s hands wandered lower, gripping the wide curve of his ass.
“Even more?” Simon asked.
Jeff’s grip tightened, and he kneaded the round flesh, his hard dick digging into the softness.
He revealed that he was very skinny and his friends laughed at him, so he entered the gym in 2018 at just 56kg.
In 2019 he reached 70kg and was happy with his body.
In 2020 he started to accumulate fat and in 2021 he reached 120kg and went back to the gym to try to lose weight but then gave up.
At the beginning of 2024 he reached 180 kg and tried to return to the gym.
Now in October he revealed that he has gained more weight and weighs 194kg. He also said that his butt is so big now that he can no longer find pants that fit him well. He said he bought new pants in June and they have already broken because his thighs and butt have grown too much.
But he seems to really enjoy eating big meals and snacks and is happy.
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