So as a response to @futurefarmersamerica suggestion, I made a feedism edit of that one color ask game! I might be missing some stuff but I think it'll still be fun. Feel free to share and have fun hehe
[Wow, it's been a minute since I've done any writing on here. Fair bit of unspecified weed-esque drug use in this one, as well as some dubcon/noncon. Also some implied immobility, and maybe some health stuff if you squint? Enjoy, fatties 💕]
In hindsight, I really should've realized what you meant early on. Once I hit 350 pounds, you sat me down one morning and told me, with barely concealed excitement, that it was "time to shift gears". I remember feeling that excitement, too, though obviously I can look back on that moment and laugh at my naivete. I agreed readily, promising that I'd continue to go along with whatever you had planned for me.
Truth be told, the last 50 pounds had been wearing me out. I'd been pretty unathletic when you'd started fattening me up 200 pounds ago, and it had only gotten worse as my sedentary lifestyle and high-calorie diet caused me to swell with blubber. My back and legs ached whenever I had to walk more than a few dozen steps, I could barely lift anything heavier than a fully loaded plate, and my flexibility was downright laughable. I figured you had meant that you would start bringing me with you to the gym, cutting back on my intake a little bit to build some muscle. Maybe it was to keep me healthy, maybe it was to build a stronger foundation for future growth, but I didn't ask either way. I just went along with whatever you had planned.
So, when I woke up the next morning to find myself handcuffed to the bed, CPAP still placed over my nose with a distinctly *herbal* scent attached to it, I realized how mistaken I'd been.
The days blended together in a haze of feeding, funnels, massages, cloth-bathing, sex, and the occasional bathroom visit, all overseen by you. The only thing I was aware of beyond the veil of drugs was your touch, and how consistently full I was kept. Every now and then, I'd shiver and gasp when you applied lotion to my belly and thighs, squirming as much as my overfed body would allow beneath the cold lotion. I grew, and grew, and grew...
I couldn't keep track of time in my drug-induced haze, but some time later, you removed my drugs long enough for me to sober up. Little by little, I began feeling the weight that had been caked onto me. At some point, my arms had been uncuffed, I just hadn't noticed on account of how heavy they were. I looked down at the giant, flesh-colored pillow on my lap, and it took me entirely too long to realize that the blob covering my legs was my belly. Enormous, wide, heavy, and sloshing as you guided my hands to it. I blinked as I explored it, my pudgy fingers squishing gently into my gut before finding their way up to my chest. Nothing but soft blubber as far as I could feel.
"You love it, don't you?" you snickered, leaning against the bedpost as you watched my mystified motions. I nodded, overwhelmed with how much more of me there was to feel now. I guess I looked it, because your expression softened as you drew closer to me, caressing my plump cheek and wiping away a tear I didn't know I'd shed. "How do you feel?"
You were barely able to get the question out before my reply: "Starving."
[Wow, it's been a minute since I've done any writing on here. Fair bit of unspecified weed-esque drug use in this one, as well as some dubcon/noncon. Also some implied immobility, and maybe some health stuff if you squint? Enjoy, fatties 💕]
In hindsight, I really should've realized what you meant early on. Once I hit 350 pounds, you sat me down one morning and told me, with barely concealed excitement, that it was "time to shift gears". I remember feeling that excitement, too, though obviously I can look back on that moment and laugh at my naivete. I agreed readily, promising that I'd continue to go along with whatever you had planned for me.
Truth be told, the last 50 pounds had been wearing me out. I'd been pretty unathletic when you'd started fattening me up 200 pounds ago, and it had only gotten worse as my sedentary lifestyle and high-calorie diet caused me to swell with blubber. My back and legs ached whenever I had to walk more than a few dozen steps, I could barely lift anything heavier than a fully loaded plate, and my flexibility was downright laughable. I figured you had meant that you would start bringing me with you to the gym, cutting back on my intake a little bit to build some muscle. Maybe it was to keep me healthy, maybe it was to build a stronger foundation for future growth, but I didn't ask either way. I just went along with whatever you had planned.
So, when I woke up the next morning to find myself handcuffed to the bed, CPAP still placed over my nose with a distinctly *herbal* scent attached to it, I realized how mistaken I'd been.
The days blended together in a haze of feeding, funnels, massages, cloth-bathing, sex, and the occasional bathroom visit, all overseen by you. The only thing I was aware of beyond the veil of drugs was your touch, and how consistently full I was kept. Every now and then, I'd shiver and gasp when you applied lotion to my belly and thighs, squirming as much as my overfed body would allow beneath the cold lotion. I grew, and grew, and grew...
I couldn't keep track of time in my drug-induced haze, but some time later, you removed my drugs long enough for me to sober up. Little by little, I began feeling the weight that had been caked onto me. At some point, my arms had been uncuffed, I just hadn't noticed on account of how heavy they were. I looked down at the giant, flesh-colored pillow on my lap, and it took me entirely too long to realize that the blob covering my legs was my belly. Enormous, wide, heavy, and sloshing as you guided my hands to it. I blinked as I explored it, my pudgy fingers squishing gently into my gut before finding their way up to my chest. Nothing but soft blubber as far as I could feel.
"You love it, don't you?" you snickered, leaning against the bedpost as you watched my mystified motions. I nodded, overwhelmed with how much more of me there was to feel now. I guess I looked it, because your expression softened as you drew closer to me, caressing my plump cheek and wiping away a tear I didn't know I'd shed. "How do you feel?"
You were barely able to get the question out before my reply: "Starving."
[Sheesh, it's seriously been nearly two months since I published anything??? Good god, time do be flying... Anyway, wrote this in a hungry haze this morning to get it outta my system. CW for implied immobility and tube feeding, as well as references to public feeding and group feeding. Enjoy!]
Inevitable.
That's what all your friends said of your current size. Too big for clothes, spilling over the edges of a king bed, rolls and folds of blubber piling atop one another to form a literal mountain of flab.
During your fleeting moments of lucidity, you went back and forth on whether you agreed with that assessment. Sure, you'd always been a hungry guy, but you'd joined the group as a much smaller person, probably an eighth of your current weight, if that. How could anyone say that your appetite alone, even hefty as it was, would cause you to snowball into this blob? That would be an absurd statement, especially considering how frequently your feeder friend group conspired to "test your limits". "Just to see, for fun," they'd claimed, but even in your overstuffed haze, you weren't entirely stupid. You could see their arousals written plainly on their faces; as their sacrificial lamb of lard, how could you not see what they were doing?
That was how it had started: pub crawls and restaurant dates, as you steadily outgrew each location's single chair and had to add another. Wider, heavier, hungrier you grew as your friends plied you with yet more food, all greasy, all decadent, all high calorie. Delicious, of course, but you wound up in a partial food coma after the first couple of entrees and drinks, so you could barely remember the tastes of most of what got shoved down your throat. "Oh well," said once particularly mischievous friend. "Guess you'll have to get it again!"
Not only that, but everyone could see what was happening to you. Not just within your group, but without as well. As your group meetups became more and more frequent, you started running out of time to shop for new clothes for your expanding form, with obvious consequences. The strip of belly hanging out of your shirt grew wider with the rest of you, sleeves started stretching over your hamhock arms before being cut off to allow them to breathe, and a nigh-constant plumber's crack amidst your swelling ass made it plain to see that not only were you getting fat, but it was happening fast. If only they could see the full extent of your stretch marks.
Anyway, all that was in the past now. All anyone had to do nowadays was take a single look at you. Limbs forced outspread by the amount of fat caked onto each one, your CPAP on one side of the bed and a feeding tube on the other, your gigantic belly keeping you decent even without a scrap of clothing on your body... Who wouldn't see this as the obvious outcome?
Well, we wouldn't, of course. Because we know how much bigger you're still going to get. Open wide, fatass.
Tonight's late night gainer thoughts brought to you by: The Gainer Prisoner's Dilemma.
For those unfamiliar, the original gist is simple. Two prisoners are held separately, and each is given two options: confess to the other's involvement and betray their fellow, or remain silent. From there, three outcomes are possible:
1. Both remain silent, resulting in a light sentence for both.
2. One confesses while the other remains silent, resulting in the confessor going free while the incriminated party takes on a heavy sentence.
3. Both confess, resulting in both receiving a moderate sentence.
So although it's best for both of them if they stay silent, there is still a huge advantage available for someone willing to snitch.
Now let's apply gainer mechanics to this classic paradox. I see two distinct methods of execution, depending on if the characters see gaining as a goal, or as a punishment.
For those who see it as a goal, we could have two gainers confined by a malevolent entity, such as a wicked feeder or a literal demon, holding immobility and full-time care as a carrot on a stick to entice them into gaining as quickly as possible, with the loser perhaps getting kicked out of the gainer house with all the weight they still packed on. (Further narrative irony is available here if it turns out that getting out was actually the preferred outcome, but I digress.)
On the other hand, for those who want some delicious just desserts in their stories, we play things a bit closer to the original premise, with two prisoners, both accomplices for a number of crimes, each threatened with hundreds of pounds for their involvement in each one. Several rounds of questioning go by, with each prisoner receiving more and more incentive to choose to betray the other as time goes on. Best of all from a narrative standpoint, these incentives could be real or constructed, legit or just a bluff. Depending on your writer, you could end with one or both prisoners massive, maybe even immobile depending on how Bad End you wanna go with it.
If you read this far, which variation of this would you find most compelling to read about?
[I wanna say this is some of the biggest I've consciously written? But it's hard to say lol. CW for tube feeding, partial immobility, light dubcon... I think that's it? This one ain't part of my big ongoing project, it's just one I've had on the back burner for a while and I think it's ready for the light of day. Enjoy!]
Most people would have doubted the truthfulness of my statement already, and just as many probably would have doubted whether or not I could even drive the vehicle I was currently trying to squeeze myself into. Both parties would find their doubts well-founded, as no matter how I twisted and turned, I seemed to be simply too big for my car.
Worn out from spending several minutes trying to force 800 pounds of man into the driver's seat of my old sedan, I retreated to the steps of the garage, my ass taking up the entirety of the steps it covered. For a couple minutes, the garage was filled with only the sounds of me panting and huffing like an animal, occasionally interspersed with my stomach chiming in to voice its hungry displeasure. My oversized sweatpants slid down the front of my belly as I leaned back, working in tandem with my tent-like shirt to reveal a wide strip of stretch-marked belly.
"Should I get the hose?" I heard my husband smirk, and I shot him a dirty look in response as I looked over to see him looking over the top of the car at me.
"Fuck off..." I panted, holding up a very pudgy middle finger. "I did not get that sweaty from just... trying to get into my car..."
Gracefully, as though mocking how big and unwieldy I'd let my body become, he danced around the vehicle to return to my side. To be clear, he was not what most people would describe as thin. But even a sturdy 275-pounder like him would look downright svelte next to a blob like me. As he reached me, he knelt down in front of me and placed both hands on that exposed strip of blubber, giving it a gentle squeeze and catching my gaze with his eyes. "As hot as that would be... That's not the hose I meant~" he giggled deviously.
I felt a thrill go up my well-padded spine. "W-We're about to go to dinner," I protested. "I do not need to be stuffed right before a meal...!" At those words, meant to convince myself as much as him, my stomach weighed in once again to agree with my husband.
"Somebody clearly thinks otherwise!" he laughed, leaning in to give my belly a kiss.
I tsked. That traitor... As if it wasn't its fault I'd blown up so huge to begin with! Still, I wasn't about to give up so easily. "Ugh... W-Well, we're running late as it is, I don't want to keep all our friends waiting!"
"I'll text the group chat," he rebutted simply with a shrug, nuzzling his face against my gut. "I'm sure they'll understand. Takes a lot to keep a massive work of art like you fed, after all!"
My willpower was draining fast. If I didn't provide a good enough argument soon, I'd lose to my appetite yet again, and the war for my mobility would tip that much further... "Ngh..." I grimaced as my stomach growled again. "Alright, maybe a small snack for the road, but the hose? Wouldn't that just take too much effort to set up? We don't have anything ready here in the garage, so you'd have to go back into the house, and God damn it, are you fucking for real?"
His insufferable Cheshire grin rose to his face as I formulated my argument, and as he braced himself to stand against my wall of a fat belly, I realized how badly I'd lost this match. Without a word, he walked over to the corner of the garage where we kept our auxiliary fridge and unraveled a length of hose with a spigot at the end. The length was already opaque with creamy contents, and I started salivating in spite of myself.
"Ugh, fucking... Alright, give it here," I conceded, holding out my porky hand to receive the hose. "When did you even prepare this? When did you find the time? Oh-..." Despite thinking I had the situation figured out, it turned out the end of the hose had more than a spigot, but straps as well, and I fiddled with them for a few moments before he fastened them around the back of my head, the nozzle effectively silencing me as he turned the hose on.
"I started prepping the night after you slipped in the shower," he explained as I began chugging, the cold, thick chocolatey substance flowing down my throat as effortlessly as water. Delicious as always... "I ordered the supplies when I ordered that seat for the shower, y'know? I figured you wouldn't be coming down here to see my work in progress any time before it was finished, and I was right!" He let out a triumphant little giggle at that, and I rolled my eyes with a muffled grunt from behind the feeding mask. He knelt down next to me and snuggled into my side, his own meaty hand stroking gentle circles against my belly.
"After that, it was just a matter of taking advantage of your increasingly common food comas to finish getting everything ready. Though honestly, I didn't think I'd get to use it just yet." With a deft motion, his hand went between my belly and the waistband of my sweats and freed my blubbery middle. I shivered as the lowest part of it smooshed against the cold garage floor. "I figured I wouldn't get to use it until you finally gave up and let me move you into the garage full-time. That mattress isn't going to be big enough for much longer, after all~"
In a mild act of resistance, I reached around him and gave his own love handle a squeeze. 'Maybe not,' I tried to say with my playfully accusing look. 'But I'm not the only own taking up more space in bed!'
He laughed good-naturedly at that, but gave my overhang a squeeze and shake. "That may be true, but the majority of that real estate is definitely taken up by you! Hahaha!"
By this point, I could feel myself starting to get... Not 'full' as in 'I can eat no more', but 'full' as in 'I am no longer starving'. I conveyed this to him, tapping his side and pointing at the hose to get him to turn it off. Despite my apparently unyielding gluttony, I did still want to show up to our gathering with our friends somewhat on time.
He pouted up at me, and I groaned internally. I really should've foreseen my hunger being partially sated and said something sooner. "Aww, c'mon, just a few more minutes? I worked hard on this shake, y'know..."
I glared back down at him and reached over my plump chest to tap my pudgy wrist. Not that I'd had a watch that fit me in several hundred pounds...
Rolling his eyes, he seemingly relented. "Oh, fine, fine... But you'd better finish the rest of it when we get back, alright?" he grinned, pushing off of me to stand and making me grunt with the impact. Casually, nonchalantly, as if we weren't on any sort of time crunch whatsoever, he strolled over to the fridge and started idly fiddling with the pump controls he'd rigged up on the side of it. The flow still wasn't slowing down, and I rolled my own eyes as I realized what he was doing: drawing out my tube-feeding by dragging his feet. A childish tactic, but an effective one on occasions when I was too stuffed to think straight and he could get away with it. But not this time...
I typically prefer not to move around when I'm being tube fed. The jostling of the tube in my mouth can sometimes end up in making a lot of unnecessary mess, and while that's normally not that big an issue, I especially didn't want to slob out right before going out to meet up with friends. Somehow, though, I managed to haul myself back to my feet without spilling a drop, and in just a few wobbling paces, I closed the distance between the stairs and the fridge.
He must have heard me. I don't know how he could've not noticed the creaking of the stairs, the sound of my heavy breathing through my nose, the clomp of my shoes against the concrete. But regardless, when I approached the fridge, he still had his back to me, running his fingers over the pump controls without actually changing anything.
My stomach was beginning to hit its first capacity by this point, and I grunted as I noticed a feeling of panic start to rise in my chest. Okay, I definitely wouldn't be able to drive at this point, but we could still be somewhat on time... I bumped my belly against his back, and he gave a little breathless moan as he arched his back into me. That little tease... If we hadn't had prior obligations, I would've started undressing him right then and there.
I bumped him again, a little more insistently this time, and this time he backed into me more completely, his plush back against my doughy front. "Oh my," he teased, putting his hands against the wall of my belly behind him, squeezing what he could reach from his position. "What about that dinner? You gonna take me right here and now, big boy~? Mm, we've never done it in the garage before- oh fuck-mmf~!"
I lost my patience. I wouldn't say I was rough with him, maybe just a little firm, but I did completely press him against the front of the fridge with my belly as I reached around him to the pump controls. My aggravation led me to taking much deeper swigs of the gainer shake than I had been up to that point, so I'm sure he was in bliss, feeling me blow up like a balloon against him, trapping him between a rock and a soft place.
Finally, I was able to switch the pump off, and after clearing the spigot as much as I could, I undid the straps on the mask. I could feel him squirming against me, but I couldn't tell if that was him just having a good time or if he was genuinely trying to get out, unable to escape my mass.
Holding the mask in one hand, I leaned forward a little to clear the extra air I'd swallowed in the process, belching loudly into his ear. "Ugh... Uurrrpp, God, you're a little freak," I teased him, smacking the side of my gut with my free hand. With his face smooshed against the fridge door by my tits, he couldn't reply freely, and I leaned in once more. "Y'know, though... As delicious as that shake was, I'd feel bad keeping it all to myself~" I grinned sadistically, holding up the mask to his face. "Have you tried it yourself? You really should!"
As his squirms picked up again, I withdrew my phone from my pocket, shooting our friends a message saying that we would be a bit late to our meeting...
[I wanna say this is some of the biggest I've consciously written? But it's hard to say lol. CW for tube feeding, partial immobility, light dubcon... I think that's it? This one ain't part of my big ongoing project, it's just one I've had on the back burner for a while and I think it's ready for the light of day. Enjoy!]
Most people would have doubted the truthfulness of my statement already, and just as many probably would have doubted whether or not I could even drive the vehicle I was currently trying to squeeze myself into. Both parties would find their doubts well-founded, as no matter how I twisted and turned, I seemed to be simply too big for my car.
Worn out from spending several minutes trying to force 800 pounds of man into the driver's seat of my old sedan, I retreated to the steps of the garage, my ass taking up the entirety of the steps it covered. For a couple minutes, the garage was filled with only the sounds of me panting and huffing like an animal, occasionally interspersed with my stomach chiming in to voice its hungry displeasure. My oversized sweatpants slid down the front of my belly as I leaned back, working in tandem with my tent-like shirt to reveal a wide strip of stretch-marked belly.
"Should I get the hose?" I heard my husband smirk, and I shot him a dirty look in response as I looked over to see him looking over the top of the car at me.
"Fuck off..." I panted, holding up a very pudgy middle finger. "I did not get that sweaty from just... trying to get into my car..."
Gracefully, as though mocking how big and unwieldy I'd let my body become, he danced around the vehicle to return to my side. To be clear, he was not what most people would describe as thin. But even a sturdy 275-pounder like him would look downright svelte next to a blob like me. As he reached me, he knelt down in front of me and placed both hands on that exposed strip of blubber, giving it a gentle squeeze and catching my gaze with his eyes. "As hot as that would be... That's not the hose I meant~" he giggled deviously.
I felt a thrill go up my well-padded spine. "W-We're about to go to dinner," I protested. "I do not need to be stuffed right before a meal...!" At those words, meant to convince myself as much as him, my stomach weighed in once again to agree with my husband.
"Somebody clearly thinks otherwise!" he laughed, leaning in to give my belly a kiss.
I tsked. That traitor... As if it wasn't its fault I'd blown up so huge to begin with! Still, I wasn't about to give up so easily. "Ugh... W-Well, we're running late as it is, I don't want to keep all our friends waiting!"
"I'll text the group chat," he rebutted simply with a shrug, nuzzling his face against my gut. "I'm sure they'll understand. Takes a lot to keep a massive work of art like you fed, after all!"
My willpower was draining fast. If I didn't provide a good enough argument soon, I'd lose to my appetite yet again, and the war for my mobility would tip that much further... "Ngh..." I grimaced as my stomach growled again. "Alright, maybe a small snack for the road, but the hose? Wouldn't that just take too much effort to set up? We don't have anything ready here in the garage, so you'd have to go back into the house, and God damn it, are you fucking for real?"
His insufferable Cheshire grin rose to his face as I formulated my argument, and as he braced himself to stand against my wall of a fat belly, I realized how badly I'd lost this match. Without a word, he walked over to the corner of the garage where we kept our auxiliary fridge and unraveled a length of hose with a spigot at the end. The length was already opaque with creamy contents, and I started salivating in spite of myself.
"Ugh, fucking... Alright, give it here," I conceded, holding out my porky hand to receive the hose. "When did you even prepare this? When did you find the time? Oh-..." Despite thinking I had the situation figured out, it turned out the end of the hose had more than a spigot, but straps as well, and I fiddled with them for a few moments before he fastened them around the back of my head, the nozzle effectively silencing me as he turned the hose on.
"I started prepping the night after you slipped in the shower," he explained as I began chugging, the cold, thick chocolatey substance flowing down my throat as effortlessly as water. Delicious as always... "I ordered the supplies when I ordered that seat for the shower, y'know? I figured you wouldn't be coming down here to see my work in progress any time before it was finished, and I was right!" He let out a triumphant little giggle at that, and I rolled my eyes with a muffled grunt from behind the feeding mask. He knelt down next to me and snuggled into my side, his own meaty hand stroking gentle circles against my belly.
"After that, it was just a matter of taking advantage of your increasingly common food comas to finish getting everything ready. Though honestly, I didn't think I'd get to use it just yet." With a deft motion, his hand went between my belly and the waistband of my sweats and freed my blubbery middle. I shivered as the lowest part of it smooshed against the cold garage floor. "I figured I wouldn't get to use it until you finally gave up and let me move you into the garage full-time. That mattress isn't going to be big enough for much longer, after all~"
In a mild act of resistance, I reached around him and gave his own love handle a squeeze. 'Maybe not,' I tried to say with my playfully accusing look. 'But I'm not the only own taking up more space in bed!'
He laughed good-naturedly at that, but gave my overhang a squeeze and shake. "That may be true, but the majority of that real estate is definitely taken up by you! Hahaha!"
By this point, I could feel myself starting to get... Not 'full' as in 'I can eat no more', but 'full' as in 'I am no longer starving'. I conveyed this to him, tapping his side and pointing at the hose to get him to turn it off. Despite my apparently unyielding gluttony, I did still want to show up to our gathering with our friends somewhat on time.
He pouted up at me, and I groaned internally. I really should've foreseen my hunger being partially sated and said something sooner. "Aww, c'mon, just a few more minutes? I worked hard on this shake, y'know..."
I glared back down at him and reached over my plump chest to tap my pudgy wrist. Not that I'd had a watch that fit me in several hundred pounds...
Rolling his eyes, he seemingly relented. "Oh, fine, fine... But you'd better finish the rest of it when we get back, alright?" he grinned, pushing off of me to stand and making me grunt with the impact. Casually, nonchalantly, as if we weren't on any sort of time crunch whatsoever, he strolled over to the fridge and started idly fiddling with the pump controls he'd rigged up on the side of it. The flow still wasn't slowing down, and I rolled my own eyes as I realized what he was doing: drawing out my tube-feeding by dragging his feet. A childish tactic, but an effective one on occasions when I was too stuffed to think straight and he could get away with it. But not this time...
I typically prefer not to move around when I'm being tube fed. The jostling of the tube in my mouth can sometimes end up in making a lot of unnecessary mess, and while that's normally not that big an issue, I especially didn't want to slob out right before going out to meet up with friends. Somehow, though, I managed to haul myself back to my feet without spilling a drop, and in just a few wobbling paces, I closed the distance between the stairs and the fridge.
He must have heard me. I don't know how he could've not noticed the creaking of the stairs, the sound of my heavy breathing through my nose, the clomp of my shoes against the concrete. But regardless, when I approached the fridge, he still had his back to me, running his fingers over the pump controls without actually changing anything.
My stomach was beginning to hit its first capacity by this point, and I grunted as I noticed a feeling of panic start to rise in my chest. Okay, I definitely wouldn't be able to drive at this point, but we could still be somewhat on time... I bumped my belly against his back, and he gave a little breathless moan as he arched his back into me. That little tease... If we hadn't had prior obligations, I would've started undressing him right then and there.
I bumped him again, a little more insistently this time, and this time he backed into me more completely, his plush back against my doughy front. "Oh my," he teased, putting his hands against the wall of my belly behind him, squeezing what he could reach from his position. "What about that dinner? You gonna take me right here and now, big boy~? Mm, we've never done it in the garage before- oh fuck-mmf~!"
I lost my patience. I wouldn't say I was rough with him, maybe just a little firm, but I did completely press him against the front of the fridge with my belly as I reached around him to the pump controls. My aggravation led me to taking much deeper swigs of the gainer shake than I had been up to that point, so I'm sure he was in bliss, feeling me blow up like a balloon against him, trapping him between a rock and a soft place.
Finally, I was able to switch the pump off, and after clearing the spigot as much as I could, I undid the straps on the mask. I could feel him squirming against me, but I couldn't tell if that was him just having a good time or if he was genuinely trying to get out, unable to escape my mass.
Holding the mask in one hand, I leaned forward a little to clear the extra air I'd swallowed in the process, belching loudly into his ear. "Ugh... Uurrrpp, God, you're a little freak," I teased him, smacking the side of my gut with my free hand. With his face smooshed against the fridge door by my tits, he couldn't reply freely, and I leaned in once more. "Y'know, though... As delicious as that shake was, I'd feel bad keeping it all to myself~" I grinned sadistically, holding up the mask to his face. "Have you tried it yourself? You really should!"
As his squirms picked up again, I withdrew my phone from my pocket, shooting our friends a message saying that we would be a bit late to our meeting...
Gaining-Related Office Untitled Project (GROUP), Part 2
[Not a ton I need to content warn about in this one, I think? Corporate layoffs, furniture breaking, and drawing a little closer to that workplace relationship I've been teasing for a couple thousand words now. Sorry it took so long for part 2! Life be life-ing.]
[Read part 1 here!]
It was like I'd opened Pandora's box as he began stopping by my desk to invite me out for lunch, first once every other week, then every week, until it was nearly everyday. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have, but he insisted on paying, so I shrugged it off and went along with it.
He never pressured me or came onto me in the slightest. Which was good, I didn't need my work life complicated by any sort of romantic entanglement. Whenever we went out, I'd order a salad with extra protein, or a sandwich with baked chips, and generally kept it light. I had my gym visit after work most days, and I didn't want to go in feeling too full. He, on the other hand, did not seem interested in restraint at all. Steaks, burgers, hearty soups, fried chicken sandwiches... Sometimes he even got two entrees, and I couldn't help but be impressed by his capacity.
We talked about various things during our lunches. I tried to keep it vague, since my work life and private life were supposed to be kept very separate, but occasionally I'd let some detail slip. He was much more talkative as time went on, and I found out that his chaser boyfriend liked the same out of town sports teams I did, as well as played some of the same video games that I indulged in on occasion.
When the news broke that the company was downsizing, I was met with one pleasant surprise and one not-so-pleasant one. For a blessing, my position hadn't been affected. Our floor manager had saved my position specially because of my good work ethic and attention to detail, even though the rest of my department hadn't been so lucky. I'd be getting a new position once restructuring was finished, complete with a new salary and workload.
It was tainted somewhat by the knowledge that my new friendly acquaintance had not been kept on. I puzzled over it the first few nights. Why did I care if he kept his job? I didn't particularly like him, he was just someone who took me out to lunch everyday for some weird reason. I'd never gotten around to asking him why he did that, and I worried that if I did so now, it would make things awkward between us. So when we had our lunch together that day, I kept my mouth shut on the subject.
"It's... Too bad they're only giving you guys two months' notice," I began stiltedly, poking at my salad as I tried to gauge his reaction.
He stifled a belch with his fist and sighed as he put his burger down. "Sigh... I mean, yeah, it sucks, but... I dunno, I feel like it's kinda meant to be? I learned a lot here, and I'm looking forward to seeing what comes next for me!" He seemed so confident and optimistic, I felt my heart skip a beat, and my cheeks felt warm... "Oh, Danny, are you okay? You look a little flushed...?"
I couldn't recall when he'd started using that nickname for me, but he only used it during our lunches, and at this point, I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. I cleared my throat and all but chugged my ice water to try and calm down the heat in my face. "Yeah, just... Kinda processing how much everything's going to change soon..."
I nearly jumped out of my skin when he reached over and put his pudgy hand over mine. "Danny, you're amazing," he insisted. "You're gonna go on to do great things here, I can tell! Just keep your eyes forward and never stop growing, and you'll be fine."
I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded, then went back to my salad.
As the next two months passed, I tried to be more outgoing to my coworkers. Things were pretty dark for some of them, and I'd heard rumors that people were put off by my attitude in the past, so I resolved to do my best to be more positive at work. One way I did this was by visiting Connor at his desk from time to time. It wasn't on the way to any of my usual break spots, but I told myself that I could use the extra steps to stretch my legs during the middle of the day.
There at his desk, I could get a much clearer picture of just how massive he was getting. I didn't have much experience in guessing people's weight past a certain point, but he looked to be pushing 400 pounds or so. His shirts constantly strained to contain his belly, and he looked like he was just a couple burgers away from either getting completely stuck in his armrests or popping them off entirely. Looking at the contents of his desk and trash can, it wasn't difficult to see why. Snack wrappers and soda bottles galore filled the can to its brim, and he almost always had some chips and candy bars on his desk.
The first time I visited, I just stood in the doorway for a few seconds, observing his space, before clearing my throat and gently knocking on the edge of his cubicle. He squeaked and nearly jumped out of his seat before whirling to see me. "Daniel! Sheesh, you /are/ quiet!" he giggled breathlessly, brushing his fingers off on his slacks. "What brings you over to this soon-to-be condemned neck of the woods?"
"Just passing by," I lied, leaning casually on his cubicle entrance. "I'm trying to be more... Sociable, I guess."
He giggled again, and scooted his chair a little closer. "Haha! Trying to speedrun friendship before time runs out, bro?" I tsked and rolled my eyes as my cheeks went pink again, and his laughter increased. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Actually, it's great that you're here!" He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pair of candy bars, holding one out to me. "Think of it like a farewell gift, if you like, but I'd be honored if you'd share this with me."
My cheeks went even pinker, but I accepted, stowing it in my shirt pocket with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine... I guess I can spare a few more minutes on the treadmill today," I fake-grumbled. "I'll have it on my way to the gym."
The way his smile beamed across his face made my chest tighten, and I hurriedly excused myself back to my desk, where I shoved the bar into a drawer and planted my face in front of my desk fan. There was just no way...
At the end of the two month period prior to the restructuring, I paid him one last visit. But on my way there, I heard a choked scream and a loud crack, both of which sounded like they came from his desk. My feet pounded the floor until I found it, and the words were already out of my mouth before I could think.
"Connor?! Are you oka-?!"
Laying on his back on the floor, the two halves of his desk chair on opposite sides of the cubicle, he looked up at me breathlessly, his plump chest heaving.
We stayed like that for a moment, both of us just staring at the other. His slacks, already tight around his thighs, now sported a significant hole along one side, and his shirt had popped a couple of buttons around his navel, revealing a surprisingly full happy trail. His plump lips were parted softly, his eyes wide, and I could practically feel my brain liquefying. Finally, he broke the tension by laughing.
"Aha... Hahaha...!! Whew, at least this happened at the last possible second...!" he all but wheezed, trying to roll onto his side to stand back up. But he didn't have enough room, and so remained beached. "Uh, whew... Um, Daniel?" The part of my brain that remained solid snapped to attention as he said my name. "Think you could lend me a hand...?"
"R-Right, yeah, sure!" was my far too high pitched response as I took his hand and began helping him back up: first to his knees, then fully upright. I did my best to keep my distance from his body, since I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, at least any more than he probably already did...
My efforts were in vain, though, as once he was back on his feet, he immediately closed the distance and wrapped his arms around me, pinning my own arms in place in a huge embrace. "Thanks for being such a good friend, Danny," he murmured into my chest as he gave me a gentle squeeze, sending my heart rate through the roof.
Just when I thought my heart or brain would explode from the overwhelming sensation flooding my circuit board, I heard some footsteps behind me, and Connor let go of me.
I stepped to the side and turned to see the floor manager, his eyes locked on the broken chair before raising them to Connor and then slowly sliding them over to me. "Is everyone alright here? Are you two-?" My blood went cold as the question began, and I froze.
"Yes sir, we're fine!" Connor interrupted, drawing his eyes back from me to himself. "I just leaned back a little too far in my chair and, uh, yeah... Daniel here was just helping me back to my feet." He brushed off his slacks, finally noticing the hole that had been torn into the side. "I know it's my last day here, but I do feel kinda sore after that fall... Do you think I could ask for your help in filling out the accident report, sir?" he asked the floor manager, putting his hand to his lower back with a wince.
The floor manager sighed and nodded. "Fine, fine, come back to my office with me. You can swing by later to pick up the rest of your things." And with that, he turned on his heel and started walking away.
"Yes, sir!" he replied with a grin, and I stepped aside to allow him out. "Thanks for everything, Danny," he added with a quieter voice and a smaller, gentler smile. "I'll see you around!" And there he went, following after him.
I could only raise my hand in a small farewell, watching him waddle away, the two globes of his backside rising and falling with each step.
Gaining-Related Office Untitled Project (GROUP), Part 2
[Not a ton I need to content warn about in this one, I think? Corporate layoffs, furniture breaking, and drawing a little closer to that workplace relationship I've been teasing for a couple thousand words now. Sorry it took so long for part 2! Life be life-ing.]
[Read part 1 here!]
It was like I'd opened Pandora's box as he began stopping by my desk to invite me out for lunch, first once every other week, then every week, until it was nearly everyday. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have, but he insisted on paying, so I shrugged it off and went along with it.
He never pressured me or came onto me in the slightest. Which was good, I didn't need my work life complicated by any sort of romantic entanglement. Whenever we went out, I'd order a salad with extra protein, or a sandwich with baked chips, and generally kept it light. I had my gym visit after work most days, and I didn't want to go in feeling too full. He, on the other hand, did not seem interested in restraint at all. Steaks, burgers, hearty soups, fried chicken sandwiches... Sometimes he even got two entrees, and I couldn't help but be impressed by his capacity.
We talked about various things during our lunches. I tried to keep it vague, since my work life and private life were supposed to be kept very separate, but occasionally I'd let some detail slip. He was much more talkative as time went on, and I found out that his chaser boyfriend liked the same out of town sports teams I did, as well as played some of the same video games that I indulged in on occasion.
When the news broke that the company was downsizing, I was met with one pleasant surprise and one not-so-pleasant one. For a blessing, my position hadn't been affected. Our floor manager had saved my position specially because of my good work ethic and attention to detail, even though the rest of my department hadn't been so lucky. I'd be getting a new position once restructuring was finished, complete with a new salary and workload.
It was tainted somewhat by the knowledge that my new friendly acquaintance had not been kept on. I puzzled over it the first few nights. Why did I care if he kept his job? I didn't particularly like him, he was just someone who took me out to lunch everyday for some weird reason. I'd never gotten around to asking him why he did that, and I worried that if I did so now, it would make things awkward between us. So when we had our lunch together that day, I kept my mouth shut on the subject.
"It's... Too bad they're only giving you guys two months' notice," I began stiltedly, poking at my salad as I tried to gauge his reaction.
He stifled a belch with his fist and sighed as he put his burger down. "Sigh... I mean, yeah, it sucks, but... I dunno, I feel like it's kinda meant to be? I learned a lot here, and I'm looking forward to seeing what comes next for me!" He seemed so confident and optimistic, I felt my heart skip a beat, and my cheeks felt warm... "Oh, Danny, are you okay? You look a little flushed...?"
I couldn't recall when he'd started using that nickname for me, but he only used it during our lunches, and at this point, I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. I cleared my throat and all but chugged my ice water to try and calm down the heat in my face. "Yeah, just... Kinda processing how much everything's going to change soon..."
I nearly jumped out of my skin when he reached over and put his pudgy hand over mine. "Danny, you're amazing," he insisted. "You're gonna go on to do great things here, I can tell! Just keep your eyes forward and never stop growing, and you'll be fine."
I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded, then went back to my salad.
As the next two months passed, I tried to be more outgoing to my coworkers. Things were pretty dark for some of them, and I'd heard rumors that people were put off by my attitude in the past, so I resolved to do my best to be more positive at work. One way I did this was by visiting Connor at his desk from time to time. It wasn't on the way to any of my usual break spots, but I told myself that I could use the extra steps to stretch my legs during the middle of the day.
There at his desk, I could get a much clearer picture of just how massive he was getting. I didn't have much experience in guessing people's weight past a certain point, but he looked to be pushing 400 pounds or so. His shirts constantly strained to contain his belly, and he looked like he was just a couple burgers away from either getting completely stuck in his armrests or popping them off entirely. Looking at the contents of his desk and trash can, it wasn't difficult to see why. Snack wrappers and soda bottles galore filled the can to its brim, and he almost always had some chips and candy bars on his desk.
The first time I visited, I just stood in the doorway for a few seconds, observing his space, before clearing my throat and gently knocking on the edge of his cubicle. He squeaked and nearly jumped out of his seat before whirling to see me. "Daniel! Sheesh, you /are/ quiet!" he giggled breathlessly, brushing his fingers off on his slacks. "What brings you over to this soon-to-be condemned neck of the woods?"
"Just passing by," I lied, leaning casually on his cubicle entrance. "I'm trying to be more... Sociable, I guess."
He giggled again, and scooted his chair a little closer. "Haha! Trying to speedrun friendship before time runs out, bro?" I tsked and rolled my eyes as my cheeks went pink again, and his laughter increased. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Actually, it's great that you're here!" He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pair of candy bars, holding one out to me. "Think of it like a farewell gift, if you like, but I'd be honored if you'd share this with me."
My cheeks went even pinker, but I accepted, stowing it in my shirt pocket with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine... I guess I can spare a few more minutes on the treadmill today," I fake-grumbled. "I'll have it on my way to the gym."
The way his smile beamed across his face made my chest tighten, and I hurriedly excused myself back to my desk, where I shoved the bar into a drawer and planted my face in front of my desk fan. There was just no way...
At the end of the two month period prior to the restructuring, I paid him one last visit. But on my way there, I heard a choked scream and a loud crack, both of which sounded like they came from his desk. My feet pounded the floor until I found it, and the words were already out of my mouth before I could think.
"Connor?! Are you oka-?!"
Laying on his back on the floor, the two halves of his desk chair on opposite sides of the cubicle, he looked up at me breathlessly, his plump chest heaving.
We stayed like that for a moment, both of us just staring at the other. His slacks, already tight around his thighs, now sported a significant hole along one side, and his shirt had popped a couple of buttons around his navel, revealing a surprisingly full happy trail. His plump lips were parted softly, his eyes wide, and I could practically feel my brain liquefying. Finally, he broke the tension by laughing.
"Aha... Hahaha...!! Whew, at least this happened at the last possible second...!" he all but wheezed, trying to roll onto his side to stand back up. But he didn't have enough room, and so remained beached. "Uh, whew... Um, Daniel?" The part of my brain that remained solid snapped to attention as he said my name. "Think you could lend me a hand...?"
"R-Right, yeah, sure!" was my far too high pitched response as I took his hand and began helping him back up: first to his knees, then fully upright. I did my best to keep my distance from his body, since I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, at least any more than he probably already did...
My efforts were in vain, though, as once he was back on his feet, he immediately closed the distance and wrapped his arms around me, pinning my own arms in place in a huge embrace. "Thanks for being such a good friend, Danny," he murmured into my chest as he gave me a gentle squeeze, sending my heart rate through the roof.
Just when I thought my heart or brain would explode from the overwhelming sensation flooding my circuit board, I heard some footsteps behind me, and Connor let go of me.
I stepped to the side and turned to see the floor manager, his eyes locked on the broken chair before raising them to Connor and then slowly sliding them over to me. "Is everyone alright here? Are you two-?" My blood went cold as the question began, and I froze.
"Yes sir, we're fine!" Connor interrupted, drawing his eyes back from me to himself. "I just leaned back a little too far in my chair and, uh, yeah... Daniel here was just helping me back to my feet." He brushed off his slacks, finally noticing the hole that had been torn into the side. "I know it's my last day here, but I do feel kinda sore after that fall... Do you think I could ask for your help in filling out the accident report, sir?" he asked the floor manager, putting his hand to his lower back with a wince.
The floor manager sighed and nodded. "Fine, fine, come back to my office with me. You can swing by later to pick up the rest of your things." And with that, he turned on his heel and started walking away.
"Yes, sir!" he replied with a grin, and I stepped aside to allow him out. "Thanks for everything, Danny," he added with a quieter voice and a smaller, gentler smile. "I'll see you around!" And there he went, following after him.
I could only raise my hand in a small farewell, watching him waddle away, the two globes of his backside rising and falling with each step.
Gaining-Related Office Untitled Project (GROUP), Part 1
[At time of posting this installment, this project is not quite entirely finished, but I REALLY wanted to get something out before the end of March, so here we are. I'll do content warnings, etc. on a part-by-part basis (which I'm now realizing means I'll have to do yet another editing run, but whatever, I do this for you.) This first one's pretty tame, and in all honesty it'll probably stay pretty tame? This one's much more of a slow burn.]
[Contains depictions of fat-shaming, diet-shaming, and some nods to a future potentially inappropriate workplace relationship, if that's something you're concerned about. Like, spoiler I guess, but that's kind of what this whole thing is building towards so if that's a dealbreaker, best if you find out now, right?]
The way he looked at me... I could hardly stand it.
There used to be a time when our roles were reversed. I was on top of the world, practically a god of fitness with how much I was worshiped, and he was some fat, mousy nobody, barely worth what little attention anyone paid him. We didn't interact much. I believe he asked me for advice once, and I was honest at the time.
"Advice?"
I looked him up and down, a light sheen of sweat visible on my face. He wasn't ugly by any means, but he was certainly far too heavy to actually be entertaining the notion of a regular conversation with me. Even behind his baggy workout clothes, I could make out the very rounded shapes of his bulging belly, plush hips, massive breasts... His face was just as round, well-padded to the point his chin was nearly invisible, consumed by its double.
I'd been jogging on the treadmill for a good while, but I guess he got tired of waiting to talk to me. He nodded in response, looking up at me with his vulnerable blue eyes. I spoke frankly. "Yeah, sure... Head to the front desk, cancel your membership, and find yourself someone who appreciates fat guys online. It'll be better than deluding yourself into thinking you could lose all that and keep it off... Anything else?"
I don't believe he had anything to say to that. Hard to say, I barely remember that interaction. But after that, it felt like I started seeing him everywhere. I remember running into him at the grocery store once, and I had tried like hell to avert my eyes from the sorts of junk he was no doubt putting in his cart...
I would usually never even think about the sections he'd shop in, but I would allow myself one pint of ice cream whenever bulking season came around in the winter. That's where I saw him, his own cart loaded with all sorts of food I would never touch: fatty red meats, ice cream bars, all manner of chocolate-drizzled treasures from the bakery. It's not like I meant to take such detailed stock of his purchases, but his cart was taking up the entire aisle as he deliberated between two bags of frozen fruit. I waited for a moment before clearing my throat and shooting him a look. He jolted out of her thoughts and readjusted his cart with a meek, "O-Oh, sorry...!" I said nothing this time, rolled my eyes, and walked past him to head toward the cashier.
Despite my head start, I ended up leaving the store after he did that day. The lines were backed up, but as I heard his cart (and his heavy breathing) approach, I saw someone else in the store uniform run over to an empty register and beckon him over. They didn't turn their light on, and when they were done scanning his transaction, they gave him a brief hug, and I could barely make out something about his shift being covered tomorrow. I smirked at that; no wonder he was so huge! Working around food all the time, I could practically see him stuffing his face in the aisles to try and not get caught by his supervisors as he "took care of" stock that could no longer be sold. Then my line moved forward, and he fell out of my thoughts once again.
Then, there was the time Finance at my job hired someone, and when I delivered my weekly report to my point of contact, there he was. Aric, my point of contact, introduced us, and since I wasn't sure it was really him, I played along.
"Oh, Daniel! Sorry, I didn't hear you approach, you can be so quiet sometimes, haha!" The larger man laughed jovially, and I couldn't help but smile with him. Sure, he was even fatter than his new hire, his massive, blubbery frame posing a sincere danger to every shirt and chair he came across, but he was an alright guy. I'd had several interactions with him over email before I ever saw him in person, and by then, I'd already built up a decent amount of respect for him. It was still tarnished a little when I found out what a fatass he was, but it wasn't like I was saying that stuff to his face or anything. "Oh, right, let me introduce you. Daniel, this is Connor, I'm training him to join my team in the spring. Connor, Dan here is one of the best in Analytics. You need anything scrutinized, he's got the eyes and wit for the job!"
I rolled my eyes playfully at his joke, my face keeping its usual expression, and held out my hand to Connor. I almost didn't notice the conflicted expression on his face, his pudgy hand halfway through a little wave of recognition, before he straightened it out and shook my hand. "Pleasure to meet you." I spoke coolly, my mind already off the duo in front of me and back onto the pile of tasks waiting for me back at my desk. "Well, if there's nothing else you need on my end, please excuse me." I set the report down on a free corner of his desk and turned to leave. I could vaguely hear him mumble something behind me as I left, but I needed to get back to work.
From there, my sightings of him began to multiply like rabbits. Or, perhaps more accurately, like the pounds he was apparently inflicting upon his scale, assuming he owned such a thing. Whenever I got lunch at the cafeteria, he was there. Our cars seemed to wind up near each other in the parking lot. Department meetings would find us sitting next to each other. Eventually, I'd had enough, and I confronted him.
"Oh! Hi, Dan, I thought you'd already left for the day!" He greeted me cheerfully as he caught sight of me leaning against the wall outside his cubicle.
I narrowed my eyes a little at him. "It's Daniel," I replied coldly. He and I were hardly friends, I just kept constantly finding him underfoot, like an unwanted pet or something. "Feels like I keep running into you everywhere lately," I went on casually as he continued packing up his things. "You following me or something?" My tone was neutral enough to be taken as joke or threat, though perhaps I needn't have worried.
"Oh, haha, I've noticed that, too! Crazy small world, right?" he giggled, seemingly unaffected by my coldness. Was this really the same guy I'd met a few months ago? "Could say it's 'cause of my own natural, charismatic magnetism, hehe!" I rolled my eyes at that. More like he's developed her own- "Hah, or maybe I've developed my own gravitational pull?"
I raised my eyebrows at that. Whether he'd read my mind or not, that was still quite a thing to say about oneself, and I found myself double-taking at him to make sure I'd heard him correctly. His eyes met mine, and he giggled again. "Oh, relax, I'm only joking! My boyfriend always says that whenever he sits down next to me, and I think it's kinda cute!"
I'd been so thoroughly caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation that I found myself going along with it by reflex. "Huh... And he's...? That is, you're... You both find that...?" Or, trying to go along with it, as it were.
"Exciting?" His eyes held a strange, almost dangerous glitter to them, and I couldn't tear my own away as I nodded and swallowed thickly. "Oh yeah. You wouldn't believe how much he loves it! I swear I've gone up two sizes since we got together!" Ah, so it hadn't been my imagination, then. "Yeah, no, that first time we met, at the gym way back when? I took your advice! Good thing you gave it to me before we started working together, or that could've been REALLY weird, right? Haha!!"
My blood went cold at the mention of some event I'd all but forgotten, but someone else apparently remembered well enough to thank me for. "At... At the gym?" I asked, racking my brain for the memory. "Er, what did I...?"
His cheeks went a little red at that, and she looked away bashfully before replying. "Well, uh, you said... You basically told me to find myself a chubby chaser, so I did! It's been great, not worrying about what I eat and being pretty much worshiped for it... Ha, honestly some of the best advice I've ever gotten!"
I could vaguely recall it when he told me about it, and I nodded. "Yeah... Yeah, I think I remember that now. Well." I shrugged. "Glad you seem to be happy with each other, then." If he'd interpreted my snarky and dismissive comment to him way back when as genuine advice, then that was on him. I couldn't see that sort of relationship ending well for the guy, but again, that was his deal. Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Over the next few months, I became the proud new owner of a circus, with some extremely persistent monkeys.
Gaining-Related Office Untitled Project (GROUP), Part 1
[At time of posting this installment, this project is not quite entirely finished, but I REALLY wanted to get something out before the end of March, so here we are. I'll do content warnings, etc. on a part-by-part basis (which I'm now realizing means I'll have to do yet another editing run, but whatever, I do this for you.) This first one's pretty tame, and in all honesty it'll probably stay pretty tame? This one's much more of a slow burn.]
[Contains depictions of fat-shaming, diet-shaming, and some nods to a future potentially inappropriate workplace relationship, if that's something you're concerned about. Like, spoiler I guess, but that's kind of what this whole thing is building towards so if that's a dealbreaker, best if you find out now, right?]
The way he looked at me... I could hardly stand it.
There used to be a time when our roles were reversed. I was on top of the world, practically a god of fitness with how much I was worshiped, and he was some fat, mousy nobody, barely worth what little attention anyone paid him. We didn't interact much. I believe he asked me for advice once, and I was honest at the time.
"Advice?"
I looked him up and down, a light sheen of sweat visible on my face. He wasn't ugly by any means, but he was certainly far too heavy to actually be entertaining the notion of a regular conversation with me. Even behind his baggy workout clothes, I could make out the very rounded shapes of his bulging belly, plush hips, massive breasts... His face was just as round, well-padded to the point his chin was nearly invisible, consumed by its double.
I'd been jogging on the treadmill for a good while, but I guess he got tired of waiting to talk to me. He nodded in response, looking up at me with his vulnerable blue eyes. I spoke frankly. "Yeah, sure... Head to the front desk, cancel your membership, and find yourself someone who appreciates fat guys online. It'll be better than deluding yourself into thinking you could lose all that and keep it off... Anything else?"
I don't believe he had anything to say to that. Hard to say, I barely remember that interaction. But after that, it felt like I started seeing him everywhere. I remember running into him at the grocery store once, and I had tried like hell to avert my eyes from the sorts of junk he was no doubt putting in his cart...
I would usually never even think about the sections he'd shop in, but I would allow myself one pint of ice cream whenever bulking season came around in the winter. That's where I saw him, his own cart loaded with all sorts of food I would never touch: fatty red meats, ice cream bars, all manner of chocolate-drizzled treasures from the bakery. It's not like I meant to take such detailed stock of his purchases, but his cart was taking up the entire aisle as he deliberated between two bags of frozen fruit. I waited for a moment before clearing my throat and shooting him a look. He jolted out of her thoughts and readjusted his cart with a meek, "O-Oh, sorry...!" I said nothing this time, rolled my eyes, and walked past him to head toward the cashier.
Despite my head start, I ended up leaving the store after he did that day. The lines were backed up, but as I heard his cart (and his heavy breathing) approach, I saw someone else in the store uniform run over to an empty register and beckon him over. They didn't turn their light on, and when they were done scanning his transaction, they gave him a brief hug, and I could barely make out something about his shift being covered tomorrow. I smirked at that; no wonder he was so huge! Working around food all the time, I could practically see him stuffing his face in the aisles to try and not get caught by his supervisors as he "took care of" stock that could no longer be sold. Then my line moved forward, and he fell out of my thoughts once again.
Then, there was the time Finance at my job hired someone, and when I delivered my weekly report to my point of contact, there he was. Aric, my point of contact, introduced us, and since I wasn't sure it was really him, I played along.
"Oh, Daniel! Sorry, I didn't hear you approach, you can be so quiet sometimes, haha!" The larger man laughed jovially, and I couldn't help but smile with him. Sure, he was even fatter than his new hire, his massive, blubbery frame posing a sincere danger to every shirt and chair he came across, but he was an alright guy. I'd had several interactions with him over email before I ever saw him in person, and by then, I'd already built up a decent amount of respect for him. It was still tarnished a little when I found out what a fatass he was, but it wasn't like I was saying that stuff to his face or anything. "Oh, right, let me introduce you. Daniel, this is Connor, I'm training him to join my team in the spring. Connor, Dan here is one of the best in Analytics. You need anything scrutinized, he's got the eyes and wit for the job!"
I rolled my eyes playfully at his joke, my face keeping its usual expression, and held out my hand to Connor. I almost didn't notice the conflicted expression on his face, his pudgy hand halfway through a little wave of recognition, before he straightened it out and shook my hand. "Pleasure to meet you." I spoke coolly, my mind already off the duo in front of me and back onto the pile of tasks waiting for me back at my desk. "Well, if there's nothing else you need on my end, please excuse me." I set the report down on a free corner of his desk and turned to leave. I could vaguely hear him mumble something behind me as I left, but I needed to get back to work.
From there, my sightings of him began to multiply like rabbits. Or, perhaps more accurately, like the pounds he was apparently inflicting upon his scale, assuming he owned such a thing. Whenever I got lunch at the cafeteria, he was there. Our cars seemed to wind up near each other in the parking lot. Department meetings would find us sitting next to each other. Eventually, I'd had enough, and I confronted him.
"Oh! Hi, Dan, I thought you'd already left for the day!" He greeted me cheerfully as he caught sight of me leaning against the wall outside his cubicle.
I narrowed my eyes a little at him. "It's Daniel," I replied coldly. He and I were hardly friends, I just kept constantly finding him underfoot, like an unwanted pet or something. "Feels like I keep running into you everywhere lately," I went on casually as he continued packing up his things. "You following me or something?" My tone was neutral enough to be taken as joke or threat, though perhaps I needn't have worried.
"Oh, haha, I've noticed that, too! Crazy small world, right?" he giggled, seemingly unaffected by my coldness. Was this really the same guy I'd met a few months ago? "Could say it's 'cause of my own natural, charismatic magnetism, hehe!" I rolled my eyes at that. More like he's developed her own- "Hah, or maybe I've developed my own gravitational pull?"
I raised my eyebrows at that. Whether he'd read my mind or not, that was still quite a thing to say about oneself, and I found myself double-taking at him to make sure I'd heard him correctly. His eyes met mine, and he giggled again. "Oh, relax, I'm only joking! My boyfriend always says that whenever he sits down next to me, and I think it's kinda cute!"
I'd been so thoroughly caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation that I found myself going along with it by reflex. "Huh... And he's...? That is, you're... You both find that...?" Or, trying to go along with it, as it were.
"Exciting?" His eyes held a strange, almost dangerous glitter to them, and I couldn't tear my own away as I nodded and swallowed thickly. "Oh yeah. You wouldn't believe how much he loves it! I swear I've gone up two sizes since we got together!" Ah, so it hadn't been my imagination, then. "Yeah, no, that first time we met, at the gym way back when? I took your advice! Good thing you gave it to me before we started working together, or that could've been REALLY weird, right? Haha!!"
My blood went cold at the mention of some event I'd all but forgotten, but someone else apparently remembered well enough to thank me for. "At... At the gym?" I asked, racking my brain for the memory. "Er, what did I...?"
His cheeks went a little red at that, and she looked away bashfully before replying. "Well, uh, you said... You basically told me to find myself a chubby chaser, so I did! It's been great, not worrying about what I eat and being pretty much worshiped for it... Ha, honestly some of the best advice I've ever gotten!"
I could vaguely recall it when he told me about it, and I nodded. "Yeah... Yeah, I think I remember that now. Well." I shrugged. "Glad you seem to be happy with each other, then." If he'd interpreted my snarky and dismissive comment to him way back when as genuine advice, then that was on him. I couldn't see that sort of relationship ending well for the guy, but again, that was his deal. Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Over the next few months, I became the proud new owner of a circus, with some extremely persistent monkeys.
Sooooo my next story is already nearly 11 pages long on g-docs, and the 'Read More' function on tumblr is only gonna do so much? Thinking this might be my first multi-part story… If I do go with that, I'm wondering if I should post all the parts at once? Or post them serially, like one a week?
I really gotta stop doing all my writing IN the Tumblr app, it keeps posting prematurely after my second draft and it's like no, I need to go through again, I have more to give it!!!!
[Yeah, this one's heavy on the dubcon/noncon. No explicit stuff this time, but it warrants repeating that this is A Fiction, this is not endorsement of this sort of behavior, I just think it's fascinating and hot to write about :U]
"Bro." I didn't look up from my dinner preparations as you entered the kitchen. Your voice was a little uncertain, but I could still hear your approach over the noise of the steaming pan. My interest was piqued at your next words, though. "Are we... getting kinda... fat?"
I looked up at you, and I'm genuinely not sure how I was able to keep a straight face. Your shirt, an old, hole-filled garment that was now stretched thin over your prodigious table muscle, failed to come within three inches of your cavernous navel. Your love handles, which not only covered your waist but had a second pair coming in above them to support, were not concealed themselves in the slightest. Beneath the massive apron of stomach, your blubbery thighs finished wobbling as you came to a halt, and though it was not visible to me from this angle, I knew from recent memory that your ass was much the same.
Above the enormous blob of fat sitting on your waist, two soft pillows rested, each stretching your shirt even further and preventing it from reaching as far down your tubby torso. On either side of your well-padded shoulders, porky arms curled back in, grasping the hem of your poor shirt in a futile bid to make it cover you. And at the top of it all, your face. Cherubically chubby cheeks framed plump pouting lips, and I wasn't sure if that was from how upset you seemed to be, or if the fat in your features simply made that your default state.
As I finished taking in the sight of you, I sniffed delicately and turned back to dinner, hoping the redness in my cheeks could be explained away by the hot pan I was working over. "Not at all, why do you ask? Did you shrink some clothes in the laundry or something?"
You made a frustrated noise and stomped closer to me, and I could see your jiggling and wobbling out of the corner of my eye. "Bro, I'm serious...!" you whined, your plump hands grasping the sides of your belly and giving it a shake. "I swear, we did not used to be this big...!"
I decided to play dumb a little longer. "Whatcha mean, dude? Like, what are you trying to say?" I asked, my voice still light and quizzical as I turned to you, my hip leaning lightly against the edge of the stove. "I do all the cooking for us, after all, and it's not like I've been doing anything different recently...?"
You scoffed and released your own belly to give mine a poke. "Yeah, no shit, bro," you grumbled, the touch making me giggle and half-step away before leaning back towards you. "Everyone knows you do the cooking. Tons of it, in fact! I'm being really serious, bro, you and I are both getting super fat lately and it's weird!!"
I looked down at myself, and you definitely weren't exaggerating. I was, indeed, super fat, just like you. Maybe even a bit bigger, in fact. While your lifestyle generally kept you pretty active, going from your job to the gym to all sorts of physical leisure activities, I was much more of a homebody, preferring to while away my hours at a computer, game controller in hand. It was a good thing my belly was so big, otherwise my arousal would've been visible and given away the whole game.
Rolling my eyes, I cocked my hip, making my belly wobble with the motion. "Uhh, I think you might be overreacting, dude," I chuckled dismissively. "I mean, it's like, bulking season right now or whatever, right? Isn't it normal to gain a few pounds during the colder months? I mean sure, it's not like we were ever models, but we've pretty much always been this big, haven't we?"
A bald-faced lie, especially given the picture on the bookshelf behind you of both of us when we'd moved in together, you weighing about 180 pounds and I about 225. I estimated we'd nearly doubled those weights nowadays, maybe more in your case, but ever since our scale had maxed out around 350 pounds, I'd not been able to keep exact track. Even given the audacious lie, though, I doubted you'd put those pieces together.
I could see the doubt working against your complaint in your mind. "I-I mean... No, we were... A-and /you/ were...! We were not always this fat, bro, I swear...!!" I could tell you were starting to get agitated, so I shifted gears.
"Dude, chill out. Where is all this coming from, huh? Is it your clothes? I told you we'd get some new ones in the new year, right?" A promise I'd been making for the last few years. I had secretly sized up a handful of garments in your wardrobe, but to this day, I refused to have my hard work drowned in excess fabric if I could help it.
"Or are you hungry? Dinner's almost ready, but there are some cookies on the table if you need something to tide you over." Another of my genius ploys. Even if you were to scarf down every single treat on that platter overnight, I'd have more baked by the next time you woke up. There are cookies on the table. There are *always* cookies on the table.
"Or... Hehe, have you not been getting any lately and you're all pent up?" I teased, my voice a little lower and playfully seductive. "If that's all, you'll just have to wait until after dinner."
I watched as your face went from a slightly agitated pink to a deeply flustered crimson as you stuttered and stammered. "Bro...!!" you hissed, stomping up so close to me that our bellies audibly plapped together. "You promised you wouldn't bring that shit up!! I told you, I'm straight, bro...!!"
Instinctively, my mind replayed the dozens of times over the years I'd given you head or jerked you off when you'd been too stuffed on my cooking to take care of yourself, when you'd all but begged me to because I could do it better than any chick you could find at the bars... All those times I'd been so lucky to get up close and personal with your constantly swelling fat pad, my own chubby fingers grasping your lardacious thighs as I shoved my face in.
"Ah, you're right, dude, sorry," I apologized sheepishly, though internally I was still counting the days until you not only wanted my help to get off, but needed it. "Anyway, like I said, dinner's almost ready. Wanna get some drinks out and we'll pull up Netflix? Maybe we can take a look at some clothes online afterward, yeah?"
Having somehow successfully talked circles around you, bringing you back to your complacent state, I turned back to my cooking as you nodded and huffed, pulling a six-pack of beer out of the fridge and heading to the couch. I waited until I could hear the tell-tale sound of the springs crying in agony from having to hold your fat ass self up, before I reached into the spice cabinet. I knew it was a dangerous game, keeping my secret weapon so close at hand, so nearly out in the open, but I knew you never went in here.
A healthy sprinkle of the taste-enhancing white powder was applied to the pasta sauce before being stirred in, and I grinned deviously as my own stomach growled impatiently. Sure, the shady guy who'd sold me this stuff had warned me to keep my food separate from that of my 'subject', as he'd called it... But it wasn't enough to just soften you up, I wanted to feel what it was like, too!
"Bro!" You called from the living room, and I screwed the cap back on the little bottle and stored it away again. "What sounds good to watch tonight?"
"Oh, whatever you like, I'm not picky!" I called back, plating up the food and struggling to wrestle my grin back under control. 'Besides,' I thought privately as I entered the room, two heaping plates in hand, 'I'll be watching a show of my own tonight...!'
As I sat down next to you, our love handles barely an inch away from touching on our tiny couch, I looked down at your belly, your own attention split between the show and the food. Easily, I imagined it swelling to completely encompass your lap, pushing your legs apart until it could drop heavily to the floor between them...
[Yeah, this one's heavy on the dubcon/noncon. No explicit stuff this time, but it warrants repeating that this is A Fiction, this is not endorsement of this sort of behavior, I just think it's fascinating and hot to write about :U]
"Bro." I didn't look up from my dinner preparations as you entered the kitchen. Your voice was a little uncertain, but I could still hear your approach over the noise of the steaming pan. My interest was piqued at your next words, though. "Are we... getting kinda... fat?"
I looked up at you, and I'm genuinely not sure how I was able to keep a straight face. Your shirt, an old, hole-filled garment that was now stretched thin over your prodigious table muscle, failed to come within three inches of your cavernous navel. Your love handles, which not only covered your waist but had a second pair coming in above them to support, were not concealed themselves in the slightest. Beneath the massive apron of stomach, your blubbery thighs finished wobbling as you came to a halt, and though it was not visible to me from this angle, I knew from recent memory that your ass was much the same.
Above the enormous blob of fat sitting on your waist, two soft pillows rested, each stretching your shirt even further and preventing it from reaching as far down your tubby torso. On either side of your well-padded shoulders, porky arms curled back in, grasping the hem of your poor shirt in a futile bid to make it cover you. And at the top of it all, your face. Cherubically chubby cheeks framed plump pouting lips, and I wasn't sure if that was from how upset you seemed to be, or if the fat in your features simply made that your default state.
As I finished taking in the sight of you, I sniffed delicately and turned back to dinner, hoping the redness in my cheeks could be explained away by the hot pan I was working over. "Not at all, why do you ask? Did you shrink some clothes in the laundry or something?"
You made a frustrated noise and stomped closer to me, and I could see your jiggling and wobbling out of the corner of my eye. "Bro, I'm serious...!" you whined, your plump hands grasping the sides of your belly and giving it a shake. "I swear, we did not used to be this big...!"
I decided to play dumb a little longer. "Whatcha mean, dude? Like, what are you trying to say?" I asked, my voice still light and quizzical as I turned to you, my hip leaning lightly against the edge of the stove. "I do all the cooking for us, after all, and it's not like I've been doing anything different recently...?"
You scoffed and released your own belly to give mine a poke. "Yeah, no shit, bro," you grumbled, the touch making me giggle and half-step away before leaning back towards you. "Everyone knows you do the cooking. Tons of it, in fact! I'm being really serious, bro, you and I are both getting super fat lately and it's weird!!"
I looked down at myself, and you definitely weren't exaggerating. I was, indeed, super fat, just like you. Maybe even a bit bigger, in fact. While your lifestyle generally kept you pretty active, going from your job to the gym to all sorts of physical leisure activities, I was much more of a homebody, preferring to while away my hours at a computer, game controller in hand. It was a good thing my belly was so big, otherwise my arousal would've been visible and given away the whole game.
Rolling my eyes, I cocked my hip, making my belly wobble with the motion. "Uhh, I think you might be overreacting, dude," I chuckled dismissively. "I mean, it's like, bulking season right now or whatever, right? Isn't it normal to gain a few pounds during the colder months? I mean sure, it's not like we were ever models, but we've pretty much always been this big, haven't we?"
A bald-faced lie, especially given the picture on the bookshelf behind you of both of us when we'd moved in together, you weighing about 180 pounds and I about 225. I estimated we'd nearly doubled those weights nowadays, maybe more in your case, but ever since our scale had maxed out around 350 pounds, I'd not been able to keep exact track. Even given the audacious lie, though, I doubted you'd put those pieces together.
I could see the doubt working against your complaint in your mind. "I-I mean... No, we were... A-and /you/ were...! We were not always this fat, bro, I swear...!!" I could tell you were starting to get agitated, so I shifted gears.
"Dude, chill out. Where is all this coming from, huh? Is it your clothes? I told you we'd get some new ones in the new year, right?" A promise I'd been making for the last few years. I had secretly sized up a handful of garments in your wardrobe, but to this day, I refused to have my hard work drowned in excess fabric if I could help it.
"Or are you hungry? Dinner's almost ready, but there are some cookies on the table if you need something to tide you over." Another of my genius ploys. Even if you were to scarf down every single treat on that platter overnight, I'd have more baked by the next time you woke up. There are cookies on the table. There are *always* cookies on the table.
"Or... Hehe, have you not been getting any lately and you're all pent up?" I teased, my voice a little lower and playfully seductive. "If that's all, you'll just have to wait until after dinner."
I watched as your face went from a slightly agitated pink to a deeply flustered crimson as you stuttered and stammered. "Bro...!!" you hissed, stomping up so close to me that our bellies audibly plapped together. "You promised you wouldn't bring that shit up!! I told you, I'm straight, bro...!!"
Instinctively, my mind replayed the dozens of times over the years I'd given you head or jerked you off when you'd been too stuffed on my cooking to take care of yourself, when you'd all but begged me to because I could do it better than any chick you could find at the bars... All those times I'd been so lucky to get up close and personal with your constantly swelling fat pad, my own chubby fingers grasping your lardacious thighs as I shoved my face in.
"Ah, you're right, dude, sorry," I apologized sheepishly, though internally I was still counting the days until you not only wanted my help to get off, but needed it. "Anyway, like I said, dinner's almost ready. Wanna get some drinks out and we'll pull up Netflix? Maybe we can take a look at some clothes online afterward, yeah?"
Having somehow successfully talked circles around you, bringing you back to your complacent state, I turned back to my cooking as you nodded and huffed, pulling a six-pack of beer out of the fridge and heading to the couch. I waited until I could hear the tell-tale sound of the springs crying in agony from having to hold your fat ass self up, before I reached into the spice cabinet. I knew it was a dangerous game, keeping my secret weapon so close at hand, so nearly out in the open, but I knew you never went in here.
A healthy sprinkle of the taste-enhancing white powder was applied to the pasta sauce before being stirred in, and I grinned deviously as my own stomach growled impatiently. Sure, the shady guy who'd sold me this stuff had warned me to keep my food separate from that of my 'subject', as he'd called it... But it wasn't enough to just soften you up, I wanted to feel what it was like, too!
"Bro!" You called from the living room, and I screwed the cap back on the little bottle and stored it away again. "What sounds good to watch tonight?"
"Oh, whatever you like, I'm not picky!" I called back, plating up the food and struggling to wrestle my grin back under control. 'Besides,' I thought privately as I entered the room, two heaping plates in hand, 'I'll be watching a show of my own tonight...!'
As I sat down next to you, our love handles barely an inch away from touching on our tiny couch, I looked down at your belly, your own attention split between the show and the food. Easily, I imagined it swelling to completely encompass your lap, pushing your legs apart until it could drop heavily to the floor between them...
[Yeah, this one's heavy on the dubcon/noncon. No explicit stuff this time, but it warrants repeating that this is A Fiction, this is not endorsement of this sort of behavior, I just think it's fascinating and hot to write about :U]
"Bro." I didn't look up from my dinner preparations as you entered the kitchen. Your voice was a little uncertain, but I could still hear your approach over the noise of the steaming pan. My interest was piqued at your next words, though. "Are we... getting kinda... fat?"
I looked up at you, and I'm genuinely not sure how I was able to keep a straight face. Your shirt, an old, hole-filled garment that was now stretched thin over your prodigious table muscle, failed to come within three inches of your cavernous navel. Your love handles, which not only covered your waist but had a second pair coming in above them to support, were not concealed themselves in the slightest. Beneath the massive apron of stomach, your blubbery thighs finished wobbling as you came to a halt, and though it was not visible to me from this angle, I knew from recent memory that your ass was much the same.
Above the enormous blob of fat sitting on your waist, two soft pillows rested, each stretching your shirt even further and preventing it from reaching as far down your tubby torso. On either side of your well-padded shoulders, porky arms curled back in, grasping the hem of your poor shirt in a futile bid to make it cover you. And at the top of it all, your face. Cherubically chubby cheeks framed plump pouting lips, and I wasn't sure if that was from how upset you seemed to be, or if the fat in your features simply made that your default state.
As I finished taking in the sight of you, I sniffed delicately and turned back to dinner, hoping the redness in my cheeks could be explained away by the hot pan I was working over. "Not at all, why do you ask? Did you shrink some clothes in the laundry or something?"
You made a frustrated noise and stomped closer to me, and I could see your jiggling and wobbling out of the corner of my eye. "Bro, I'm serious...!" you whined, your plump hands grasping the sides of your belly and giving it a shake. "I swear, we did not used to be this big...!"
I decided to play dumb a little longer. "Whatcha mean, dude? Like, what are you trying to say?" I asked, my voice still light and quizzical as I turned to you, my hip leaning lightly against the edge of the stove. "I do all the cooking for us, after all, and it's not like I've been doing anything different recently...?"
You scoffed and released your own belly to give mine a poke. "Yeah, no shit, bro," you grumbled, the touch making me giggle and half-step away before leaning back towards you. "Everyone knows you do the cooking. Tons of it, in fact! I'm being really serious, bro, you and I are both getting super fat lately and it's weird!!"
I looked down at myself, and you definitely weren't exaggerating. I was, indeed, super fat, just like you. Maybe even a bit bigger, in fact. While your lifestyle generally kept you pretty active, going from your job to the gym to all sorts of physical leisure activities, I was much more of a homebody, preferring to while away my hours at a computer, game controller in hand. It was a good thing my belly was so big, otherwise my arousal would've been visible and given away the whole game.
Rolling my eyes, I cocked my hip, making my belly wobble with the motion. "Uhh, I think you might be overreacting, dude," I chuckled dismissively. "I mean, it's like, bulking season right now or whatever, right? Isn't it normal to gain a few pounds during the colder months? I mean sure, it's not like we were ever models, but we've pretty much always been this big, haven't we?"
A bald-faced lie, especially given the picture on the bookshelf behind you of both of us when we'd moved in together, you weighing about 180 pounds and I about 225. I estimated we'd nearly doubled those weights nowadays, maybe more in your case, but ever since our scale had maxed out around 350 pounds, I'd not been able to keep exact track. Even given the audacious lie, though, I doubted you'd put those pieces together.
I could see the doubt working against your complaint in your mind. "I-I mean... No, we were... A-and /you/ were...! We were not always this fat, bro, I swear...!!" I could tell you were starting to get agitated, so I shifted gears.
"Dude, chill out. Where is all this coming from, huh? Is it your clothes? I told you we'd get some new ones in the new year, right?" A promise I'd been making for the last few years. I had secretly sized up a handful of garments in your wardrobe, but to this day, I refused to have my hard work drowned in excess fabric if I could help it.
"Or are you hungry? Dinner's almost ready, but there are some cookies on the table if you need something to tide you over." Another of my genius ploys. Even if you were to scarf down every single treat on that platter overnight, I'd have more baked by the next time you woke up. There are cookies on the table. There are *always* cookies on the table.
"Or... Hehe, have you not been getting any lately and you're all pent up?" I teased, my voice a little lower and playfully seductive. "If that's all, you'll just have to wait until after dinner."
I watched as your face went from a slightly agitated pink to a deeply flustered crimson as you stuttered and stammered. "Bro...!!" you hissed, stomping up so close to me that our bellies audibly plapped together. "You promised you wouldn't bring that shit up!! I told you, I'm straight, bro...!!"
Instinctively, my mind replayed the dozens of times over the years I'd given you head or jerked you off when you'd been too stuffed on my cooking to take care of yourself, when you'd all but begged me to because I could do it better than any chick you could find at the bars... All those times I'd been so lucky to get up close and personal with your constantly swelling fat pad, my own chubby fingers grasping your lardacious thighs as I shoved my face in.
"Ah, you're right, dude, sorry," I apologized sheepishly, though internally I was still counting the days until you not only wanted my help to get off, but needed it. "Anyway, like I said, dinner's almost ready. Wanna get some drinks out and we'll pull up Netflix? Maybe we can take a look at some clothes online afterward, yeah?"
Having somehow successfully talked circles around you, bringing you back to your complacent state, I turned back to my cooking as you nodded and huffed, pulling a six-pack of beer out of the fridge and heading to the couch. I waited until I could hear the tell-tale sound of the springs crying in agony from having to hold your fat ass self up, before I reached into the spice cabinet. I knew it was a dangerous game, keeping my secret weapon so close at hand, so nearly out in the open, but I knew you never went in here.
A healthy sprinkle of the taste-enhancing white powder was applied to the pasta sauce before being stirred in, and I grinned deviously as my own stomach growled impatiently. Sure, the shady guy who'd sold me this stuff had warned me to keep my food separate from that of my 'subject', as he'd called it... But it wasn't enough to just soften you up, I wanted to feel what it was like, too!
"Bro!" You called from the living room, and I screwed the cap back on the little bottle and stored it away again. "What sounds good to watch tonight?"
"Oh, whatever you like, I'm not picky!" I called back, plating up the food and struggling to wrestle my grin back under control. 'Besides,' I thought privately as I entered the room, two heaping plates in hand, 'I'll be watching a show of my own tonight...!'
As I sat down next to you, our love handles barely an inch away from touching on our tiny couch, I looked down at your belly, your own attention split between the show and the food. Easily, I imagined it swelling to completely encompass your lap, pushing your legs apart until it could drop heavily to the floor between them...
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