Characters: Mycroft Holmes, Rott
Verse: modern au Sherlock Holmes (book)
Content: hyperfats, extreme weight gain, immobile blob, fat humping
“More,” Mycroft groaned, a command with such power that there was no question about it occurring. Sure enough, the feeding tube that came from the ceiling began churning out food at a harder, faster rate. No human should have been able to withstand it but Mycroft managed to swallow every drop. Rott laid between his breasts, curled up lazily watching Mycroft take his fill. He was wearing a large t-shirt and boxer shorts, ensuring Mycroft would have easy access to his cunt at all times. He also wanted to be able to rub his pussy against any nearby fat roll if he so desired. After ten minutes the feeding tube stopped and Mycroft let out an angered groan. Rott immediately sat up to attention.
“Did anyone say stop?” He snapped at those hired to take care of Mycroft who scurried around him. “Are you going to let my Daddy go hungry?” The nursing and serving staff all muttered apologises and rushed around, clearly panicked and worried about the consequences of angering Mycroft’s sadistic little pet. Rott had demanded servants be fed to Mycroft before, especially the pretty young men. Some people suspected it was jealousy, if there was a servant Mycroft would want to fuck… they had a habit of making mistakes and ending up in Mycroft’s gut.
“Mm. Good boy,” Mycroft wheezed, an affectionate smile filling his bloated face which sank into his neck roll. He lifted one arm with difficulty, resting his hand on his chest so Rott could use it to curl up against. He happily did so, feeling the plump adipose surrounding his small body. Some had noticed Rott’s similarities to Mycroft’s younger brother - he had soft dark wavy hair, bright eyes, and he seemed to notice everything. Something he often used to his advantage. He wasn’t quite as tall however, and had an adorable chubby frame instead of a terrifyingly skeletal one. Rott didn’t like the comparison, he thought of Sherlock as an infuriating brat who didn’t appreciate his brother enough. Although, hearing Sherlock refer to Rott as Mycroft’s ‘boy’ admittedly did make his clitoris twitch and harden.
Rott adored his position, he’d come into the household as an agency carer specialising in bariatric care. Since his first day it had been clear he lusted after the Holmes Patriarch. It didn’t take long for him to be fucked regularly by him. Quickly he became permanently in his employ, from a carer to something more resembling a mixture of a kept boy, a concubine, and even at times a lover. He adored few as much as he did Mycroft Holmes. The one who let him curl up against his fat and watching him eat from his feeding tube so intensely, to the point where Rott was almost convinced he could see the immobile beast below him growing. It excited him so much he found himself twisting round so that his face was buried in a gigantic bloated palm and his legs wrapped around a elephantine finger. He began grinding his cunt against the flab, resulting in a chuckle from Mycroft, who obliged by separating them and curling around Rott’s body so he could feel two fingers crushing him from either side, and the digit he was riding curl around his behind.
