I have a prompt for a fic, if you'd like.
In a post-war utopia, Knockout and his two husbands are headed to an interstellar conference for professionals in STEM. Knockout and Starscream are attending a conference, while Breakdown is moral support.
In the cycles after the war, Knockout's frame has changed and grown plump and healthy from a less stressful and strenuous lifestyle and having more stable sources of fuel. Starscream and Breakdown haven't changed much at all in comparison. With a new found paunch and a rounder silhouette, Knockout has grown to accept his apple-shaped body, but still struggles at times with how much he's changed.
What happens is that Starscream has a good time at the conference, but Knockout does not. Supposedly, someone tried to sell Knockout some kind of very under researched weight loss drug, and then got defensive and insinuated something nasty about Knockout's weight gain when the surgeon declined to start prescribing it.
Starscream and Breakdown are not happy because how could someone insult their gorgeous bombshell of a husband for something so shallow? However, as they discuss ways to enact revenge, Knockout starts to get irritated and upset. Breakdown finally notices his beloved speedster's dismay, and gets Starscream to snap out of it to help him comfort Knockout.
You can leave the prompt as is, or change it however you want but I think there's a little bit of a shortage of plumped up, loved and cherished, and spoiled Knockouts in the world - so that's why I left this plot bunny for you!
Getting back into the groove of things with an amazing request! I’ve been saving this one for the best time to work on it… a few days in the working but it’s here and ready to read! Requests are also open again—have at it and have fun!
Chubformers drabble #301!
Characters: Knock Out & Starscream & Breakdown (TFP)
Word count: 5.2k
The building was one of the biggest and brightest Knock Out had ever seen on his exhibitions alongside Starscream. He had been to many before, all of them extraordinary, but this particular location for the biggest conference in the galaxy was both dazzling and impressive. It was one of their biggest events yet, and Knock Out couldn’t wait to present.
Time had been gracious to all of them after the war had finally come to an end—Knock Out especially, as he so happily boasted at every turn. Their world had turned itself around within a few stellar cycles, and what was once left of the dystopian disaster of the past had now been paved over with new life, new beginnings, and a whole new Cybertron.
Knock Out considered himself exceptionally lucky with the way things had turned out. There was no more prejudice and no more crippling rulers abounding anymore. There were no more cowering mechs desperately hoping to make it and no more cruel overlords crushing them underfoot. He was happy now; Starscream was happy to, having finally come back around to his true purpose and finding joy in life and science again. Breakdown, the beloved brute Knock Out was so, so lucky to still call his own, was happy, too—mostly for them, but wholly because of them as well.
They had each other, they had their new beginnings, and they had the future left ahead—still unpaved and uncertain, but still so very, very exciting and so very, very promising.
A lot had changed. Knock Out’s career for one, and his frame for another. He was a lot softer now… plump, curvy, and fat all over. Fuel ran in abundance again, and the struggles for health and safety and a bright future were over. He hardly had to worry about anything anymore, save for the next big event coming up. The stress of existing was all but gone, and the danger was completely eradicated. He had changed quite a bit in comparison to his lovers, but Knock Out didn’t mind anymore—not as often, at least. It was a dark cloud in the back of his processor if anything, and with the support of his two conjuxes, Knock Out had little to worry about in that regard.
Knock Out was all smiles and waves as he followed Starscream through the building’s front doors. His belly protruded outward as he squeezed through, and his soft frame jiggled as he pushed himself free and stumbled inside, but Starscream was there holding out a gracefully extended arm, and Breakdown was behind him as he lumbered his way through the slim opening.
“Small doors,” Knock Out drawled, his easy smile falling at the corners as he turned back to watch Breakdown struggle to fit his bulky frame through after them.
“An oversight, surely,” Starscream said with a wave of his free servo. “We’re still very early—no one will have noticed.”
No one will have said anything about the lack of size-inclusive entrances either, Knock Out was sure, which was both a blessing and a curse. To him, it was an unmistakable nod back to their roots with slim frames taking on the technical work while sacrificing the big brutes such as Breakdown (and now him, he would assume, given his new size) on the battlefield.
Knock Out pushed the thought from his mind with a stiff roll of his shoulders and a soft sigh as he watched Breakdown walking over to join them with a soft, beaming smile. This was an old planet, he reminded himself, and they were here to challenge those very ideas.
“Progress isn’t linear, I suppose,” Knock Out muttered under his breath.
Starscream reached up and gently squeezed the soft, chubby part of his upper arm.
“Indeed,” he said. “Come on, then, both of you. Let’s go make ourselves comfortable before the real work begins.”
The planet was new to all of them, as was the conference. Save for the odd pirating ship of mechs here and there, its surface hadn’t been touched by Cybertronian kind since the start of the war, and its communication had been cold for what felt like eons. As Cybertron rose up from its grave and rebuilt itself from the ground up, the new utopia they lived in had quickly drawn the attention of the long lost planet and its group of brilliant scientific minds.
Knock Out could hardly wait for the conference to begin. History was actively in the making now, and he had become an important member of its creation.
As the booth setups and presentation preparations went underway, Knock Out couldn’t help but notice a strange uptick in the amount of lingering stares and chilly faces he was met with throughout the day. Official members wouldn’t be arriving until the very next day, and their schedule for that afternoon was nothing more than meeting with fellow members of the event and mingling with the esteemed guests and invitees, but the longer the day went on, the more uncomfortable Knock Out became.
It was discreet at first—little glances his way that lasted longer than they should have and stares pointed in his direction that were far from friendly. Knock Out noticed the cold exteriors he received from scientists and volunteers alike who were more than overjoyed to be conversing with Starscream after they had finished delivering their expected greetings to him, and the longer he was forced to share the company with fellow conference members who he knew didn’t approve of him being there, the more flustered and frustrated he became.
It was hard promoting himself as a skilled surgeon and proficient doctor who had aided in all sorts of complex procedures and practices when he looked the way he did anymore. The weight gain was nothing to his ability to perform as he always had—if anything, it was just a sign of the growth that had been happening on Cybertron as they all started anew. He still boasted the same skill as before, and he was still capable of everything and more.
He was spoiled, sure, but he deserved it. He deserved every slagging bit of it for all that he had survived and all that he had accomplished in making their new home possible. The distance between him and the rest of the experienced and accomplished was crushing, especially considering the conference hadn’t officially started. If this was how it would be now…
Feeling self-conscious, Knock Out stood back and observed for most of the remaining conversations that happened during the afternoon, interjecting only when Starscream stopped his rambling long enough to sling his arm around the poor surgeon’s shoulders and prattle on about how amazing and wonderful Knock Out was. The cold stares and cruel looks hidden behind fake smiles and small nods did nothing to cover up the stares pointedly directed at his protruding paunch and chubby frame, however, but Knock Out simply did his best to ride it out and ignore it all.
By the time they had finished up for the day and were heading out the door for an early dinner—Breakdown walking to his left with his sturdy frame pressed flush against Knock Out’s pudgy side and Starscream strolling along to his right with his wings fluttering and an arm affectionately slung over Knock Out’s shoulders the entire time—Knock Out had found that he had lost whatever appetite he’d built up that morning. The evening dragged on for ages, and the only reprieve he found was late that night and nestled between his two snoring lovers in the comfort of their massive berth in a fancy hotel Starscream insisted on booking.
— — —
Come morning, Knock Out’s poor mood had perked right back up again. The conference was set to begin that day, and while he and Starscream arrived a little behind schedule thanks to some excessive pampering from Breakdown and an unexpected extra hour spent lounging together in the hotel room, everything was going smoothly.
The long halls inside the building were lined with booths and filled with chattering crowds by the time the three of them made it inside. Visitors crowded around the highlight presentations and official staff members stood on the sidelines with their helms swiveling as they studied the area and waited, ready to jump in and assist at any given moment.
Knock Out pushed his way through the walls of huddled bodies and excited newcomers, growing more and more eager by the second. His rocky start to the trip yesterday was left behind him now—he was far too busy taking everything in to care any longer, and he was far too overwhelmed by the prospects and potential awaiting him to bother reliving it for another second. There were connections to be made and scientific endeavors to be had, and Knock Out couldn’t wait to become apart of both of them in one of the biggest annual conferences their side of the galaxy ever had.
Breakdown gently tugged at his arm, briefly drawing him out of his awe and back to the present moment. It was hard to hear the ex-wrecker over the sounds of the conference getting underway, but a quick glance over his shoulder told Knock Out everything he needed to know.
“New stand,” Breakdown shouted, his voice barely audible over the crowds and the noise.
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and pointed to a booth promoting research on a new energon vein—not quite something Breakdown would be interested in if it wasn’t for the take-home pamphlets and little cups of samples lining the very front of the table.
“Got it,” Knock Out mouthed back with a fond smile and a nod of his helm. He shooed Breakdown off with a dismissive servo and a pat on the big mech’s back, adding a “go enjoy yourself” that he knew Breakdown wouldn’t be able to hear.
Beside him, Starscream was already chuckling into his servo.
“Off to find the energon booths already?” he said, leaning in close so Knock Out could hear him.
Knock Out hummed under his breath and nodded. “Mm. What more would you expect?”
“Nothing different,” Starscream said. He nodded towards the booths lining the walls further down from where Breakdown stood and pointed out another bright sign with a promising display. “There’s plenty more of those around at this conference, too. He’ll have no trouble keeping himself busy until we need him again.”
“Good,” Knock Out said. He tried to cross his chubby arms over his chest, but the pushback from soft mesh protruding outward made it difficult. “I’m sure he’d have no qualms about following us around all day, but—“
Before Knock Out could respond, both he and Starscream were interrupted by a frantic flier heading their way.
“Starscream!” they cried, their wings buzzing and their expression as bright as though they’d seen Primus himself. “Starscream, please! Could we have a moment of your time? Just a moment, I promise, we won’t take long at all…!”
Starscream made a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, but Knock Out caught the twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips all the same. He turned to give the surgeon a quick peck on the cheek and a gentle pat to the shoulder before pulling away.
“That’s my cue,” he said over his shoulder with a wave. “Good luck, Knock Out. Enjoy yourself today—you’re going to do wonderfully!”
And just like that, Knock Out found himself all alone again.
Coming to the conference as an esteemed guest with his own message to give and a booth to display felt like putting himself out into the world all over again. He felt just like the stranded surgeon he used to be, practicing in the shadows and searching for his next permanent position in hopes of making it through. Now, however, he no longer had to hide, and he no longer had to struggle.
The war was over, he was a new mech, and his past was behind him. He lifted his helm high and took a deep intake, then plastered an easy-going smile onto his face as he headed for his booth near the end of the hall. There was much still to be done today, and he didn’t want to waste a single moment.
His schedule was packed for the conference. After presenting at his booth and connecting with whoever dared to come converse with the charismatic chubby surgeon sitting behind a pretty table and a well-designed banner, he would be presenting a small message later that day to whoever remained. There was Starscream’s presentation to attend, too, and a few other presentations he was dying to sit under. Scientists abounded in these conferences, but finding fellow medics and surgeons who successfully boasted their practice was harder than he would have thought.
It was a full day for all of them, and to top it all off, Starscream had made yet another dinner reservation for late that evening to commemorate the trip. Knock Out was giddy with excitement as he settled into his chair and prepared the few datapads he’d brought along with him. There was so much to do and so much to see, and the day was only just beginning.
Not even a minute had passed by the time Knock Out was comfortable before a new face was standing in front of his booth and practically bursting with excitement. Knock Out hid his excitement with a cool smile and braced his elbows on top of the table with his helm resting atop his servos.
“Well, hello there,” he purred, “I see my arrival this morning has been greatly anticipated.”
They were an inhabitant of the planet, that much was clear to him. Similar to their kind but differing in several subtle ways, the visitor struggled to clear their throat and switch over to the shared language of the conference with a flustered face and ever-lingering smile.
“Yes, forgive me, but yes,” they nodded eagerly. “Doctor Knock Out, is it? One of Cybertron’s best living surgeons? Forgive my excitement, doctor, I’m just—oh, I’m so overjoyed to get the opportunity to meet with you today! It’s a pleasure, really, it is.”
“Cybertron’s best?” Knock Out gave a good-natured scoff. “Please… but thank you, the kind welcome is appreciated all the same.”
“We’re very pleased to have you here today,” the visitor continued. “There is much more to discuss, and oh, so many things to ask you—but I have to go, I’m afraid. I’m a paid volunteer for one of the big members here at the conference, and I’d hate to leave them waiting. I just… oh, to get to speak with you—!”
“Don’t let me keep you then,” Knock Out said, sacrificing a servo propping up his helm to wave his visitor off. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”
“Yes!” they nodded back. “We can discuss everything in depth after your presentation later, maybe… oh! And I would love to introduce you to the person behind this event! He is more excited to meet you than I am, I’m sure.”
Knock Out’s belly paunch brushed against the edge of the table as he puffed his chest out with pride. Things were going so well already… he could hardly believe it.
“Of course,” he said, keeping his composure steady and his excitement under control. He could celebrate with his partners later. “After the presentation, then. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
After a particularly successful and busy morning that followed a presentation that was just as successful, Knock Out was really looking forward to it. The booth had been a hit, and his presentation had done well. The little bit of time he had before running off to meet Breakdown and find seats for Starscream’s speeches and presentation an hour afterwards was all but filled with mingling and accepting praise from familiar faces and new people alike, and Knock Out relished in every second.
It was a little strange, he thought, how much friendlier everyone had become towards him compared to the day before. He supposed he couldn’t exactly blame him—this was his first major conference, and it was his first time meeting many of the visitors and vendors. He would happily take what he could get.
As the bustling crowd grew silent and the rapid-fire questions that Knock Out struggled to answer all at once sputtered out, he noticed someone standing at the top of the stage and staring down at them all with a curious smile and an unreadable expression. Knock Out extended a servo in greeting and gave a professional smile as he came down to greet the surgeon, but his efforts were ignored.
“Knock Out, is it?” the new face said. “My assistant told me all about meeting you earlier today. I hope I’m not keeping you, but I thought it very important that I get to meet you before you leave tonight.”
“I remember,” Knock Out said, tilting his helm as he caught sight of said nervous assistant standing behind their boss. “And… you are?”
“Ah, right, right,” he said, “forgive me. I’m one of the people here who’ve established this particular conference. I work in medicine, too—a similar branch as you, cosmetics and modifications and the like.”
“I see,” Knock Out said. “Well, it’s a pleasure.”
“Believe me, it is,” the unnamed person continued. “I wanted to thank you for coming and being apart of this conference. Ever since your planet Cybertron has gotten itself back on its feet, I’ve heard many many things. I’ve seen you around, too, and your…” he waved a hand, “your partner, correct? Starseeker, is it?”
“Starscream?” Knock Out said. “Yes, well, I’m on my way to go see him promote his work here very shortly.”
“Yes, wonderful!” the unnamed person said. “It’s an honor to have you both with us today. Truly, it is.”
Knock Out felt prideful at that. Finally, his work was paying off. He kept his composure and nodded as the conference manager shooed off the crowds and waved away his assistant. When they were nearly alone, the leaned in, cupping his servo in a cold palm.
“Listen,” he said, “I don’t want to keep you for much longer, but there is something I have been desperate to discuss with you. Spare a few more moments of your time, would you, and come back stage with me?”
Primus, as if it couldn’t get any better. Starscream would be proud if he could see him now. Knock Out nodded—of course he would agree to that. As the crowds dispersed and the next presentation began to be prepared, the two slipped behind the curtains and headed off to a pair of identical chairs sat neatly around a small, round table.
“Have a seat,” Knock Out was told as they settled into the two chairs. “I apologize for the abruptness of it all, but I’ve been dying to discuss my new findings with you.”
“Findings?” Knock Out raised a brow. “Is this not… we aren’t…?”
His spark was starting to pulse a little faster now. Something felt wrong here. Something was off.
“There isn’t much time to catch up,” the conference person said, “so please, just bear with me.”
Hesitantly, Knock Out did. Regrettably, he continued. It became clear rather quickly what the true motive here was, and as the pieces fell into place and the anonymity of it all unraveled, Knock Out found himself feeling repulsed.
It was a weight loss drug, he was told. Something horribly under-researched and something he was disgusted to hear existed. He was chubby himself, the person said—fat all over and gaining more and more by the day. It was an unfortunate sight for someone as well-renowned and respected as him, and it was a shame for a surgeon so successful and so… beautiful, he claimed.
“You’ve changed a lot,” the conference person said. “Many of you have, but you… you’ve changed a lot.”
Nausea had begun to churn in the pit of Knock Out’s tank. He cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face—the professional smile he’d worn before had long since fallen away.
“I have,” he said simply. His servos rested in his lap, and his legs were crossed at the ankle. He couldn’t cross them properly anymore, and suddenly, that thought sickened him. “Your point?”
“You would be the perfect example for this new procedure,” the conference person said, reaching out a cold hand to rest atop Knock Out’s own as he smiled that cold, empty smile. “If we could show your planet and mine how quickly and easily you shed all of that pesky extra fat weighing you down—“
Oh, slag no. Knock Out was shoving that clammy hand aside and standing up out of his seat in an instant.
“Now just you wait a fragging second,” he said, his voice wavering. “What makes any of you think I’m actively trying to lose weight?”
He silently seethed as he watched the person shrug.
“Why wouldn’t you?” he said. “It’s not a completed formula, but it should still work nicely. If we can collaborate and have you begin taking it for yourself, the process of encouraging others to take it as well should be much easier.”
“Right,” Knock Out said sarcastically, “so what am I now, your Cybertronian guinea pig?”
“And prescriber,” the conference person said, “and promoter… and first and most successful case there ever will be.”
Knock Out could hardly keep the venom out of his voice as he snarled.
“You’re kidding yourself,” he said. “I’m not taking that. I’m not prescribing it, either.”
For the first time since they had met, the person’s friendly smile dropped. They scoffed, feigning disgust as they looked Knock Out up and down.
“And continue living like this?” they said with a wave of their hand. “It’s a disgrace to your new planet, Knock Out. It’s repulsive! It’s…”
Knock Out didn’t stay long to hear the last of the petty insults. After the first sentence he was already gone, turning on his heel and stalking off the stage and back into the crowds with his helm low and his arms wrapped tightly around his soft, chubby frame.
— — —
The rest of the day was soured after that interaction, and no matter how hard Knock Out tried to put it out of his mind, he just couldn’t get past the implications of everything that had led up to the horrible offer. Everything made sense to him now—the kind smiles, the excited people visiting his booth, the eagerness of everyone around in bringing him to meet someone important… he realized he wasn’t here as a fellow doctor or scientist looking to improve the future, but as a potential prop. Now that he had revealed the secret and throw away the bitter truth, everything was back to the way it had been when he first arrived inside.
He was quiet when Breakdown found him, and he was hardly able to focus during Starscream’s presentation. The rest of the day was a blur that dragged on far too slowly for his liking, and by the time they were heading back to the hotel for the night, Knock Out’s mood was completely and utterly soured.
Inside their hotel room, Knock Out headed straight for the berth as Starscream continued prattling on about the wonderful time and amazing opportunities he had experienced on their trip. Breakdown was quick to follow behind as Knock Out buried himself beneath the sheets and hid his face in the pillows, but he stayed quiet and distant save for a tentative servo coming down to rest atop Knock Out’s back.
“Oh, what a wonderful experience,” Starscream sighed as he twirled around the room before slumping into the chair near the desk across from the berth. “I made sure to give us ample time before dinner this evening for a bit of relaxing and preparing, so if either of you want to—“
“I’m not going to dinner,” Knock Out suddenly said, lifting his haggard face up from the pillows to deliver the monotone statement before letting his helm drop right back down.
The silence was deafening, and for once, Starscream had nothing to say.
“Knock Out?” Breakdown gently said. “Hey… you, uh, you okay?”
Again, nothing but silence followed. After a minute of wallowing in silent self-pity, however, Knock Out managed to lift himself up from the sheets and slouch against the headboard.
“No,” he said, “no, Breakdown, I am not okay.”
That was all it took before everything was spilling out of him at once—the day before as they were setting up with cold looks and a clear lack of desire for his presence there at the conference from everyone around. Today, with the false hope and a horrible realization as he discovered the one highlight of his day was actually a secret ploy to draw him in and use him as the guinea pig and scapegoat for some new (“and poorly under-researched, might I add,” Knock Out bitterly explained) weight loss formula that he simply had to try.
It was a mess from the start, and it was a mess at the end. All Knock Out could think about now was how horrible he must look to the outer world, and how much he hated his appearance now more than anything.
“I know I’m fat,” he said, his face buried in his servos, “but I don’t mind it! I didn’t mind it… until now.”
Starscream and Breakdown shared a silent look. Then,
“He’s not going to get away with this,” Starscream growled. “Who does he think he is, insulting someone as gorgeous as you? Primus, Knock Out, was he blind?”
“I wish I had been there,” Breakdown sighed. “Fragger wouldn’t have lasted much longer with two optics in his helm. Hell, I only got one and I can still see how wrong he is.”
“Exactly!” Starscream spat with a wild wave of his servo. “He’s an absolute aft, and he needs to be held accountable for it!”
“What are we gonna do?” Breakdown said. “Knock Out didn’t get his name.”
“No,” Starscream said, “but I can… and when I get my slagging servos on his ugly bucket head—“
“Both of you stop that!” Knock Out suddenly shouted, lifting his helm up from his servos to glare at them both. “Coming up with petty revenge plans and putting him in the ground is gonna do nothing to help us. There’s people like him all around all the time. Weight loss solutions are all the rage anymore, and trust me, I would know.”
Knock Out sighed, and his helm went right back to being buried in his palms. While Starscream still growled and muttered beside him, Breakdown gently shushed the seeker.
“Alright, alright…” he said. “We can talk revenge and all that later.”
With a jerk of his helm towards Knock Out’s trembling frame, Breakdown gave Starscream a pointed look until the grumbling stopped and a sigh replaced it.
“Right,” he said, his shoulders slumping as he moved to join them on the berth. “We have more important things on our hands at the moment.”
Just like that morning had found him snuggled up between both of his lovers and safe from the horrors of the world, Knock Out was gently held and cuddled as Breakdown wrapped his arms around both him and Starscream, leaving Starscream to pull the poor surgeon close to his chest and begin stroking a clawed servo up and down his helm. Knock Out was still feeling moody, but the comfort helped. He couldn’t resist soft servos and warm arms pressing into the curves of his frame and squeezing the chubby rolls of mesh that covered him from top to bottom, and neither could his partners resist loving on every inch of his new pretty and plump frame.
“We won’t do anything if you really don’t want us to,” Breakdown said, pausing just long enough to shoot a pointed look at Starscream, “but we wanna help, Knock Out.”
“I’ll be sure this doesn’t happen again,” Starscream murmured into Knock Out’s audial. “No one is going to be going around and treating our favorite surgeon this way and getting—“ he stopped, catching himself just in time. “Ah, at all. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen anymore.”
“Yeah,” Breakdown said. He gave both mechs a gentle squeeze. “Me too, Knocky.”
It was hard to stay upset when the two of his most favorite bots in the whole world were snuggled up close with him and crushing him between their frames. He was warm and cozy and felt so, so far from any of the horrors of that weekend. The conference had been a bust, but he still had the evening to spend with them. His belly rumbled hungrily underneath Breakdown’s arm, and Starscream chuckled cruely against Knock Out’s helm.
“Still skipping out on joining us for dinner tonight?” the seeker purred, his servo dipping down to tease the pudgy pouch that hung from Knock Out’s front. “Something is telling me otherwise…”
“You snake,” Knock Out hissed back.
“That’s a yes,” Breakdown quickly cut in.
Starscream’s smile was smug as he pulled away from the two and propped himself up on an arm. “Good,” he said as he stared down at them both, “because I am not wasting a perfectly good reservation on some wanna-be influencer who had the ball-bearings to come up to a stunner like yourself—“ he, of course, pointed at Knock Out’s snickering self— “and think that you would be foolish enough to accept a treatment you don’t even need! Bah!”
“Pretty sure that translates to ‘you’re having dinner and dessert tonight, Knock Out,’” Breakdown playfully added.
“Yes,” Starscream said, “and when we’ve finished stuffing you with all that you can carry, we will be dragging you back to this hotel room and pampering you for the rest of the night—no excuses or exceptions.”
“You heard the mech,” Breakdown snickered softly to Knock Out, who couldn’t help but smile back as he rolled his optics. “All pampering tonight. No exceptions.”
Knock Out played it off as an amusing gesture, but deep down, it was greatly appreciated. He appreciated Starscream for untangling himself from the sheets and announcing that he would be calling the restaurant to ensure they got a section all to themselves, and he appreciated Breakdown for pulling him into a bear hug and cuddling him close while big, gentle servos roamed over every inch of his soft frame.
They were going to make this whole thing an ugly memory stuck way in the past, and they were going to make everything better again all at the same time. It was nice, Knock Out thought. If he needed any reason to love the way his frame had transformed over the years living in a post-war world, then that was it.
Dinner had never sounded better, and dessert was the cherry on top. Knock Out was already feeling a lot better now with his two lovers at his side, but he still couldn’t wait to see where the evening took them. The weekend had started out rough, but it was ending on a high note… and for that, he was grateful.
A sleazy bozo had lost out on a deal of a lifetime and he was sitting here being pampered and reminded of just how wonderful his soft frame and curvy looks made him. Life couldn’t be any better… and he couldn’t have been any happier.
