This is a story that I wrote for a buddy of mine. Hopefully you all like it as much as he did!
It had started with a single message on a website. The message itself was harmless, but the intentions behind it were far from that. Bruce had opened it with the same casual clicking with which he had already opened 30 other messages that day. Despite the toll of time that it took, Bruce saw it as sort of a duty to answer all the messages that he received on the site. Something struck him about this particular message, however, for the subject line, usually left blank, was filled in with the words: “A Weighty Proposal.” His curiosity piqued, Bruce began to read the message, his excitement growing as particular words seem top jump right on the screen: …great gaining…moderately wealthy…love to help with food expenses. A knotted feeling began to take hold of Bruce’s stomach as he began to think about accepting aide from this stranger.
He began to think about how hard he had been trying for the past year to gain weight. Despite having made some appreciable progress, Bruce still wanted more. At 6’7” and the scale reading just over 300 pounds, Bruce was not small by normal standards, but by his own he felt incredibly tiny. And so he ate, and ate, and ate. Multiple trips to McDonalds a day was now commonplace, but even considering the affordable faire, money was still a little tight. Having someone to supply food for him would come as a great boon, even if it did seem a little salacious in nature. And so Bruce typed his address and clicked the button labelled “Reply.” Leaning back from the desk, Bruce placed his hands on his beginner belly and began to rub it, absent-mindedly dreaming of the possibilities now available to him. He could almost see himself at his goal: a 500 pound tower of flab. He was snapped out of his reverie to the sound of his stomach rumbling.
“All of this sitting around has gone and got you hungry, huh?” he cooed to his belly.
Bruce pulled his truck up to the second window, accepting the bag of greasy food from the melancholy teen within. The smell was practically ecstatic anymore, his preference for fast food now nearly an addiction. The receipt, accounting for the 4 McChickens, large shake, large coke, and apple pie joined myriad others on the floorboards of the truck. And so began Bruce’s third meal that day as he drove, mouth constantly being stuffed with fast food, back to his apartment. Tossing the bag full of empty sandwich carcasses in the dumpster out front, he slowly sauntered to the door. A sudden glint in the limited light caught his eye as he went for the knob. A shiny black envelope had been wedged into knocker. Bruce grabbed the envelope, his greasy hands making the sleek paper feel all the more slick. Flipping open the envelope, he was created by the sight of a letter, handwritten in an elegant hand, and a gift card. Bruce eagerly read over the short note:
I take it this note finds you well and, perhaps, well-fed. I’m ever so glad that you decided to take me up on my offer to help with your gaining endeavor! As such, enclosed you will find a gift card to McDonalds (I seem to remember you mentioning that as your favorite). I have already loaded $50 onto it. See to it that you spend it well! After all, the sooner you spend it all, the sooner I can load another $50 onto it!
Have a splendid time feasting!”
Bruce’s jaw had dropped as he read, bunching up his modest amount of chin fat.
“Fif…fifty?!” he thought aloud, in shock. He had expected maybe enough for one meal, but the grandeur of this gentleman’s generosity was beginning to overwhelm him. He…he couldn’t except this…could he? Well…wouldn’t it be rude…not to? Bruce unlocked the door and walked up to his room. He stripped down, readying for bed. Watching himself in the mirror, he gave his moderate belly a quick jiggle, watching it undulate up and down. He knew he wanted for, and he knew that he would have a hard time affording it on his own. Maybe…maybe he should… Sliding into bed, Bruce decided that perhaps it would be something to think about in the morning.
The next day, as per usual, Bruce was pulling through the drive-thru. A heavy bag of hashbrowns, McMuffins, and McGridles was handed through the window by the usual morning fast food lackey, and Bruce, in turn, handed her the gift card. He had finally come around to the idea of taking the man up on his offer last night as he lay in bed. Staring up at the ceiling, Bruce slowly began to imagine that he was taking up the entire bed. He imagined that his body had grown so bloated with excess lard that every inch of the mattress was blanketed in blubber. He could almost actually feel the weight of his imaginary girth. It was at that moment that he could not stand it any longer, he immediately reached below the sheets and grabbed onto his already erect cock. Feeling his flab shake with each pump, he finally collapsed in bliss, the image of him a massive pile of blubber imprinted vividly in his psyche. The thought both aroused and terrified Bruce. While he loved the idea of one day becoming such a behemoth, the loss of certain extracurricular activities seemed too great a loss. He was, after all, a single man in his 20’s and jerking off was a regular event 3, 4, 5 times a day. He would take the man’s offer and ride it just as far as he could still reach.
The fast food tasted all the sweeter just for someone else paying for it, which was perfect considering that Bruce had taken it upon himself to double his usual order. The food disappeared nearly as fast as it had appeared, all of it having been deposited into his swollen belly before Bruce’s shoes hit the ground outside of the massage parlor where he worked. The work day was filled with thoughts about the next McDonald’s binge. Visions of McChickens and McNuggets were dancing in Bruce’s head as he took his usual lunch break, and, again, as he finished up his shift. By the time he collapsed at home on his bed, Bruce had ingested $30 worth of delicious fatty fast food. His gut gurgled contentedly as it digested the day’s bounty. Bruce just gave it a hardy pat and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Bruce’s gluttony soon began to take over throughout the course of the rest of that week. What had begun as stretching his limits to eat $30 of food per day was rapidly approaching eating through nearly the whole $50 in a single day. Weight was beginning to practically pile onto his body as he gained nearly a pound a day. On Sunday night, when he returned home after work, Bruce noticed a small box on the ground outside his apartment. It was wrapped in the same sleek black paper as the original envelope had been. Curious, he unwrapped it to reveal a pair of gold hoops that appeared to be bracelets. Bruce held them up to the light, basking in their resplendent glow. Unsure of what else to do with them, Bruce snapped the two rings onto his wrists. They actually didn’t look half-bad, he thought to himself. Out of nowhere, a sharp pain emanated from his skin on both wrists. It was almost like he was being pinched by the bracelets. Bruce’s right hand immediately shot to the clasp of the left bangle, but his fingers could find no purchase on the smooth gold ring. Additionally, each attempt to turn or twist the hoop itself seemed to tug on his skin. The bracelets were without a doubt fixed to his arms now. Bruce’s panicked thoughts were interrupted by a text alert from his phone. Scrambling to grab it from his pocket, Bruce saw that it was from an unknown number. Once opened, the text read:
“Hope you like the presents I bought you, Pig. That’s what you are, after all, right? My PIG. “
“What the hell are these things?” Bruce typed back. He was beginning to get an aching feeling somewhere behind his belly, a usual sign that he had not gratified himself in a while. Despite this, his dick remained unusually soft.
“Oh, poor Piggy, I should explain. You see, the company I own is a pharmaceutical corporation. These rings pack a potent supply of two of the drugs that were developed in one of our…more secretive departments. One drug functions on the brain by really kick-starting the arousal centers. In short, it enhances sex drive. Sometimes we sell it to older couples looking to relight passion’s fleeting flame. The second drug is sort of the opposite. The trade name on it is ‘Chastity.’ It blocks the sympathetic nervous system in such a way that it makes it absolutely impossible for one’s penis to become erect. We developed it as an alternative to all that nasty business about castration for pedophiles and such. We’ve also marketed it to a few recovering “sex addicts.” Unfortunately…the half-lives of these drugs are on the order of mere seconds… Which means that they only work when directly infused. And THAT’S the reason for the bracelets! Essentially, you’ll be so horny that you can hardly think, but absolutely unable to do anything about it! Oh, but don’t worry, Piggy, these bands have a special attachment in them, a radio transceiver. With that, I can control the flux of drug into you bloodstream, or rather, I’ve set up a program to do it for me. There is only one key to unlock the invisible lock on your manhood, Piggy, and that’s your own gluttony. Whenever the balance on the card I gave you reaches $0, the bracelets will cease the drug infusion and you will regain control of your…parts. However, as soon as I reload the card, and the balance becomes non-zero, the drug will kick in again. Happy eating, Piggy!”
Bruce’s stomach was aflood in feelings at this point. The pain of horniness, the pangs of fear, and the warmth of fullness all blended together in a strange waltz of sensations. Bruce could hardly contain the lust that he was now experiencing. He needed to do something! Now! He fumbled through his pockets to find the last receipt. He scanned it until he finally saw: “Balance remaining: 10 dollars.” He couldn’t throw his jacket on and jump into his truck fast enough, and soon he was speeding off toward the closest golden arches. The glow of the streetlights glinted off his golden shackles as he drove, a little too fast. Pulling up to the speaker box, he didn’t even wait for the usual banal greeting to start ordering.
“I…I…unnnhh..I NEED a large fry, 3 McChickens , a large shake, and…uhhh…uhh….a 20 piece nugget.”
“That’ll be 10.10 at the….” Bruce didn’t bother to wait for the rest before pulling up.
He handed the bleary-eyed man the gift card along with a dime from the cup holder much faster than necessary. The man slid the card through the machine and handed it back to Bruce. The bag of food followed closely after. It had only been nearly half a minute, but Bruce could already feel a stiffness beginning to form in his pants. He tried to block out the horniness by beginning on the food, but eating only had the effect of turning him on even more. Pulling into the parking lot of a long-abandoned K-Mart, Bruce threw the truck into park and unzipped his pants with one hand while mowing down on a McChicken in the other. It took hardly anytime at all for him to blow, shooting all over the front of his pants. He rezipped himself, looking over to see that in the haze of horniness, he had actually eaten all of the food. Managing to contain himself until finally arriving home, Bruce ran inside, crashing straight into bed. One final wank and he was out like a light.
The next morning, Bruce awoke to the familiar pit in his stomach aching for sustenance both physical and nutritional. Instinctively his had reached down to his crotch, only to find it completely limp. He rolled over, grabbing his phone off the night stand. He saw a text from an automated service reading:
“Reload complete. Current balance: $50.” The stranger had already reloaded the card with another fifty…
From that point, Bruce’s life turned into a whirlwind of eating, masturbating, and eating more. As the days progressed, he forced himself to go from spending 30 dollars a day, to attempting to spend the entirety of the 50 dollar allotment. It was agony to go longer than 24 hours without sexual release. The growing length of the receipts at each stop meant that Bruce was ingesting an unimaginable number of calories on a daily basis. With nearly 10,000 calories a day being pumped into him, Bruce’s weight was quickly getting out of hand. Milestones that should have taken weeks were passing in mere days. Weighing himself at the end of the week as usual, Bruce was pleasantly shocked to see a gain of 8 pounds since he had accepted the man’s offer. The weekly weigh-in was usually the time that Bruce became most aroused, but, this time, there was nothing.
“What the hell?! I …I spent all fifty today…why?” Bruce checked his phone. A missed alert from 20 minutes prior informed him that the balance had been reloaded . Bruce pounded his fat fist on the sink. That jerk had reloaded it before the day was over! He wouldn’t be able to jack it until tomorrow night… The pain in Bruce’s abdomen pulsed again, begging for release, but there was nothing that he could do except start a cold shower running, the icy sting momentarily relieving the burning in his loins.
As the weeks passed, Bruce’s weight climbed higher and higher. Soon he had gained over 50 pounds, leaving him at a solid 360. His work clothes had become painfully tight twice over the past month. The second time he was handed a 5XL and told that should that ever become too small, he should find work elsewhere. Following with the widening of his waist, Bruce was becoming an eating machine. By the end of the month, it was not uncommon for Bruce to hit the zero balance after his lunch binge. This afforded him a brief window of time in which to drive back to work and bring himself one fleeting orgasm. It was becoming increasingly difficult to dig under his ever expanding gut flab to find his dick. Hefting his gut onto the steering wheel was the only way to really get the angle quite right, resulting in one or two unfortunate blares of his horn.
Bruce didn’t realize it, but the reloads on the card were beginning to come faster and faster. The window was rapidly closing. And then, one day, the shutters finally slammed. Bruce took his lunch break as usual. Hauling his hefty body into his truck was becoming harder and harder as his weight neared 400 pounds. He made his usual order, zeroing out the card balance. Driving off, Bruce began to lift up his huge gut, eager to get off as was his daily ritual. His hand navigated into his pubic fat, grasping onto what little bit of his penis he could still reach. It was strangely soft. Bruce let a worried moan leave his mouth.
“But…it…I spent it all…” he thought to himself. Just then, his phone vibrated, sending ripples through his generous bulk. He struggled to extricate his hand from his pants before awkwardly maneuvering the phone from his pocket.
“Balance reloaded. Current balance: $1,000.”
Bruce’s head began to spin. O-..one thousand?! How…how could he… He’d been eating 50 dollars a day, but even at that rate…He didn’t think he could last for a whole 20 days! Not knowing what else to do, Bruce began to furiously stuff his lunch into his mouth. The massive influx of sustenance did little to quell the burning desire for release pent up inside him, but he knew that if he ever wanted to cum again, this was the only way. The rest of the day was spent trying to ignore his unquenchable urges, the entire time daydreaming about all of the food that he would need to eat to bring the balance down. Trying to formulate a plan gave Bruce a sudden feeling of clarity despite his predicament.
And so the days went, each one beginning with an increasing amount of sexual unrest, and each one ending as Bruce’s body collapsed heavier and heavier on his bed in a food coma. He was doing a surprisingly good job of attempting to spend the surplus of cash that had been thrust upon him, eating almost a quarter of the balance in the first four days. Bruce could think of little more than food at this point, always stuffing his face or staring off into the distance thinking about it. Luckily, just as before, the more he ate, the more his capacity to eat increased, allowing Bruce to speed up his spending. Finally it happened. After work exactly 2 weeks from when it had started, he spent the final dollar. Not wanting to waste any time, Bruce sped home, munching voraciously on dinner as he went. He ran upstairs and threw off his clothes, which at his size, now took a little bit longer than it had almost 200 pounds ago. He could feel his cock, finally free of its chemical shackles, rising to attention. He quickly grabbed his gut with one hand and began to reach for his waiting member. His hands fell just at the top of his pubic roll.
“What the hell?! Why..can’t…I…reach?!” he shouted aloud, sweat forming on his brow as he willed his hand to go farther. But farther it could not go. The irony was not lost on Bruce as he lay there, sweat dripping down his forehead. He could feel the cool metal of the bracelet on his fat pad as he continued to struggle. Suddenly, a light feeling began to overtake him starting at his head. The room began to dim and suddenly all went dark.
Bruce awoke in the dim light of twilight, lying in a strange bed. His body was spread eagle, allowing his large gut to settle between his ponderous thighs. He could feel the softness of the sheets on the bottom of his gut as it grazed their velvety fabric. The familiar hunger was still there, and, surprisingly so was his erection. Whatever had happened, the man had still not reloaded the card! Bruce once again to desperately paw at his underbelly…or…he WOULD have, if he still had the ability to move his arms. It seemed that his wrists and ankles were bound with invisible restraints, making it impossible for him to move from his current position.
“Don’t try too hard. It’ll only give you a headache,“ Came a voice from the shadowy corner of the twilit room. Bruce’s eyes were not adjusted to the gathering darkness just yet, making the figure seem almost ethereal.
“You see, I MAY have neglected to tell you of all the chemicals that those glorious rings contain. You’re currently experiencing the fourth drug, a potent neurotoxin which blocks the motor neurons associated with your arms and legs. Essentially, you’re paralyzed, hence why trying to move isn’t such a grand idea. The third drug was the sedative that knocked you out so I could get you to come here with me. Let’s play a little game now. There are five drugs total chambered in those lovely shackles of yours. I’ve already done you the courtesy of telling you what four of them are. Can you guess what the final drug is?” The man seemed to be getting too much enjoyment out of this.
“I…I don’t know man… Can’t I just go home?! Take the bracelets off!” A budding pool of distress was beginning to stir in the emotional soup of Bruce’s psyche, mingling with the hunger and arousal in a strange dance.
“Aw, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. I’ll make you a deal. Once the fifth drug is injected, the bracelets will immediately detach. Actually that is the only way that they can ever be removed. Pretty ingenious, huh? Of course, I guess we COULD always just leave you in your current state…”
The seed of distress was slowly blooming into a flower of terror within Bruce’s mind. “No! I…I’ll take the drug! I..I wanna be free…”
“Very well then…you should start feeling the effects right about…”
In the darkness, Bruce dreamt of himself. He was floating in an open space. Above him stretched a beautiful night sky, filled to the brim with twinkling stars. Below him stretched the same night sky, but without a single light, an obsidian void. From somewhere unknown, a desire grew within his heart to reach up and touch the stars. He slowly began to kick his large legs, shaking his flabby body in the process. Each kick seemed to propel him closer to the cosmos, as if he were swimming through the air. Gradually, the kicking became more and more difficult. Each stroke was beginning to require more and more effort, exhausting Bruce. Soon, it was taking all of the swimming that he could manage just to retain his place in space. The heavy sinking feeling continued to grow, and Bruce began to watch the stars slowly growing farther and farther out of the reach of his chubby hands, as he sank into the inky darkness. As the blackness consumed him, he suddenly awoke.
The room was now pitch black, making Bruce unsure if he was awake or still dreaming. However, the same voice returned, assuring Bruce that this was, indeed, reality. Bruce still felt similar to how he had before, hungry, horny, and unable to move
“Oh good, you’re awake. I’ve been waiting. Well, I’m sad to say, that this is where we part ways. You’re totally free now. The bracelets have done their job. At least let me give you one last favor.
Slowly, an image began to appear in the air in front of Bruce. It had a silvery sheen to it, much like an image reflected in a pool of still water. Gradually, the tone of flesh began to fill the image as it became more and more illuminated. As Bruce’s eyes began to adjust, he could begin to make out the borders of the vast flesh-toned mass. It looked almost, humanoid, but no human he had ever seen could occupy so much space. The first object to appear was the distorted belly button on a massive bell apron. Judging by how low the belly hung and by how far out it stuck, the cavern formed by the button seemed like it could go on forever. Next, two large darker toned circles, nearly the size of saucers appeared. As the rest of the features became illuminated, Bruce realized that these were the impossibly large nipples on an even more impossibly sized pair of breasts. At this point it was hard to make a guess whether they were male or female. They spread in one gigantic mass across the chest of the specter before him. Beneath the belly, he could begin to make out shapes that at one point must have been this creature’s legs. They looked to be the size of barrels, offering hardly any amount of mobility at all. To the sides of these structures appeared two massive globes of flesh, each nearly the size of another barrel laid on its side. This, he realized, must be the posterior of the figure, pressed outward by the supporting structure below. Above these rested two massive love handles and atop those were a collection of other rolls of fat, each slightly smaller than the last, giving the illusion that the blubber was actually flowing down the figure’s sides. Two arms appeared, looking too bloated with lard to be useful in even the most basic task. He saw too that the shiny sheen of the form was due in part to the individual being covered in sweat. The revelation seemed to pause at this moment.
“Alright, man….(huff)…” Bruce tried to speak, but his voice…sounded different somehow, any trace of a higher lilt gone, replaced by a deep, almost guttural growl. He noticed that breathing, too, was much harder than he remembered it being.
“Why can’t….(huff)…I move still?! I…(huff) thought you…said…that I could…leave!” Bruce, tried again to will his body to move, but to no avail. Why…why do I still feel so…so hungry…(huff)…and horny?!”
“Ah…perhaps I haven’t been quite so honest with you,” the man said, no trace of any actual remorse. “You see, I lied about there being five drugs in the bracelets. In actuality, there were only four. The chastity, the sedative, the paralyzer, and the final one. There was never any appetite or libido stimulant. That was all you giving in and becoming what you truly are. A fat pig. MY fat pig.”
It was then that the final missing piece appeared, the horribly swollen face of the figure. It seemed familiar to Bruce, as if he had seen it before…but where… The features were so distorted with fat that he could hardly tell it belonged to a male or a female. The nose…something was wrong with the nose… It…looked more like a snout of some animal rather than a human nose. A..pig’s snout… And that’s when it his Bruce. This…was HIS face. This was HIS body!
“What..(huff) did you do to me?!” he wheezed.
“Shut up, Pig. You don’t need to worry about that anymore. I just made you what you truly are. And now you’re free to go. What’s the matter?! Why aren’t you leaving?!” the man gave a mirthful laugh. “What’s the matter, Pig, can’t get up?! Well I guess I’LL just leave then…”
“No! (Huff)…Wait! If…if you…(huff) leave…who will feed me?!” Bruce asked, terrified. His belly, as large as it was, was telling him it needed food. He couldn’t be without it!
“That’s more like it…Now oink for me, Pig.”
Bruce hesitated…and then… “Oink!” he gave in.
“Very good! Now…let me reward you!”
The man stepped over to a tube protruding from the floorboards. He quickly pulled it up and placed it in Bruce’s mouth. In moments, a delicious slurry of butter, cream, and sugar began flowing into Bruce’s mouth. He was so lost in the bliss of feeding that he hardly noticed the man moving closer to his belly. Carefully, the man began to dig through Bruce’s underbelly folds until, finally, he hit pay dirt. Bruce moaned as he felt the man begin to tease him.
“You like that, Pig? Good…good…”
It took mere seconds for Bruce to erupt deep in his folds. He could feel the flab around his crotch becoming sticky with his spent load. Suddenly, his heart seemed to leap in his chest. Pain shot down his arm as the world began to fade to black.
A jolt of electricity brought Bruce back to the world of the living. He gazed bleary-eyed up at his captor.
“No dying on me yet, Pig. You’ve still got a long way to go…”
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