The Walking Alive

Gainer stuff male/bi/30s cw: ~345

[thewalkingalive19]

A Show and Dinner at The Trough Pt.2: A Transformational Entree

Alex and Jesse were slumped on top of each other on the floor of the stage at The Trough. Their fat bodies were digesting a large amount of appetizers they were hypnotically encouraged to eat. Their mouths hung open slightly as they softly snored, drool dripping down each other’s bodies into their deepest crevasses, deeper now than before their first act on stage.

Above them stood Dan, who called himself The Big Mezmer when he was operating in his current capacity as a stage hypnotist. He lived up to his name, a giant of a man whose tight-fitting clothes showed off every inch of his corpulence. He had just finished hypnotizing the duo below him, newbies to his show. And with them he had captured some number of the audience as well. They were accustomed to hearing his voice and going under for him since he had been doing a weekly show at The Trough for a year now. They were all fat guys, too, so some of them were also slumped over at their tables in various states of undress. 

There was a strong smell of sweat and sex in the room in addition to the delectable food smells emanating from the kitchen where Roland, the chef, was cooking up the dinners that were coming soon. It was a combination of aromas that Dan loved, so he inhaled deeply and let out a big sigh. The audience was rapt, those of them still awake, and they knew that the next portion of the show would be colossal in more ways than one. 

Back at the bar, Sam stood stoically. He and Dan had become close friends and occasional lovers and with his interest in erotic hypnosis, had spent countless hours under Dan’s spell. Hell, that’s half the reason why Dan had been performing at Sam’s bar for a year. After a disastrous first show in which Sam had accidentally fallen into a hypnotic trance from behind the bar and hit his head when he fell to the floor, Sam had insisted that Dan install some posthypnotic suggestions protecting Sam from going under when he didn’t want to. 

He’d had half a thought to let himself be taken under at the start of the show. He thought that the smaller of the two guys on stage (Jesse?) was kinda cute and reminded him of himself at that age. Youthful, eager to learn and experience new things. He had felt trapped when he became a professor at the local college, so he took the opportunity to start a new venture when the pandemic hit and invited his old friend, Dan, to be the entertainment. He knew about Dan’s appreciation for the larger male form and, whether he had been hypnotically compelled or developed it on his own, Sam shared that proclivity. 

When Sam conceived of The Trough, he thought of it as a place where like-minded men could find each other and indulge in their deepest fantasies and built it to purpose. That’s why the chairs were so big and reinforced, and that’s why he had found the best chef in the area who loved cooking. Roland thought it was all a little strange, the hyper-specific clientele and the weird hypnosis thing, but the pay was good and he did indeed love cooking. The patrons were appreciative of his work and Roland grew to enjoy the way they abandoned all sense of decorum as they ate. It was unlike anywhere else he had worked before but the differences weren’t bad, they just took some adjustment. 

Roland’s kitchen was designed for mass output rather than high cuisine. Sam was very clear when he hired Roland that his clientele was less interested in the taste than they were in the quantity, so Roland devised a simple menu of easy-to-batch-make foods with heavy carbohydrate and fat contents. That isn’t to say that the food is bad at The Trough. It is delicious, and Roland prided himself on the fact that he probably had more return customers than any other chef in the area. Sam once asked Roland if he had the same attractions and desires as the clientele he served, which Roland answered in the negative. He was asexual, actually, and only found pleasure in his work. It was a good fit: he enjoyed feeding people and the fat men enjoyed eating. 

He was almost finished preparing the huge entrée serving he had to do on show nights. He and Dan had talked about what Dan’s shows would be like and how Roland could accommodate the amount of food his audience would be eating. The portion sizes grew on show nights, and Dan tended to inspire mass gorging that happened all at once, so Roland had to ensure his kitchen was outputting at max capacity. Tonight was no different. Pizzas, calzones, burgers, steaks, all kinds of pasta. Roland wasn’t flexing his culinary bonafides but he was showing off his logistics-oriented abilities. Everything was ready to go, he just needed to wait for Dan’s signal that the next act was beginning.

On stage, Dan had been thinking about what he’d do to his newest subjects (and anyone in the audience who had gone under for him). He wanted to keep them eating, of course, but the two college students had really gone for it during the appetizer section. Sometimes he was too good at his job, he thought, a small smile coming to his face. He also wanted to ensure that his young subjects were able to release all the sexual tension they had built in the previous segment. He liked a little orgasm denial, especially at the start of his shows, but he wasn’t as cruel as some other hypnotists he knew. He was ultimately here to show his subjects a good time that they couldn’t get elsewhere. 

Scrolling through his mental rolodex for ideas where the two fatties on the floor beneath him and anyone who had fallen under his spell in the audience could give their stomachs some time to digest while still indulging in their fleshy fantasies. There were always stripteases and other “humiliation” kinks to indulge, but these guys were already stark naked, hard, and drooling all over each other. Not much further to push there. Some roleplay maybe? Have Alex, the larger one, believe he’s a world class athlete and the other, Jesse, his personal trainer. There’s always fun to be had when big guys believed they were some other shape. It made them believe what Dan already thought: that their bodies were worthy of attention and appreciation. There’s something there, but Dan’s earlier conversation with the two of them made him think there wasn’t much these guys were shy about, at least not in this setting. 

Aha! Roleplay was the right idea but the wrong direction. He needed transformation. Animal transformation. The old chicken routine was a stage hypnosis classic, but Dan usually pivoted to other barnyard animals. Bigger barnyard animals. He loved pig and cow transformations, having a subject like Sam go under and enact a slow transformation into a pig as they made out. It’s why this place is called The Trough and why its logo is a chubby pig chef. Sam got really into those transformations, and Dan knew that he still watched pig-porn online. Well, Dan thought, this was a perfect two-for-one situation. He’d give the college students time to let go and get instinctual while also positioning himself to hook up with Sam later tonight. Sam always went under deeper for Dan when he had done an animal transformation on stage. 

Dan noticed that the two fat boys slumped over each other below him were starting to move of their own volition, coming out of trance. That wouldn’t do. 

“Ok, gentlemen of The Trough, it is almost time for dinner.”

A chorus of cheers arose from the non-hypnotized audience, and a few rowdy guys started banging their utensils on the table like they were feral for the food that was soon to come. They’d see what feral really looks like soon enough. 

“There are some of you who are still under my control in the crowd. I am now addressing those men. You will wake up from your trance hungrier than ever. As you eat, you will watch the show on stage with rapt attention. Only eating your meal will be more important than paying close attention to the transformation the two young gentlemen on stage will soon experience. When they cum at the end of their performance here, you will as well, and it will be stronger the more you’ve eaten. If you understand, say ‘Yes, Big Mezmer.” 

A rumble of hypnotized fatties mumbling “Yes, Big Mezmer” rolled through the crowd. Dan loved hearing how hypnosis slowed and slurred speech, especially in the big guys whose fat jowls and double chins interfered with normal speech anyways. 

Dan then turned his attention to the stars of his show. A puddle of their shared drool had formed under their slowly heaving bodies as they remained deep in trance, a small jolt of movement the only sign that they had any kind of consciousness left. It was time to give them a gift they’d never forget. 

“Alex and Jesse,” Dan said in his most commanding voice, “When I snap my fingers you are going to wake up. When you do you will think that you are in a barnyard instead of on a stage in a bar. Any noise you hear from the audience will sound like roosters crowing or other farm sounds. When you awaken you will believe that you are both farmhands who work with the pigs and cows. You will start doing your jobs up here on stage, and then, after a minute or two, you will start to transform.”

“Alex, you will start to transform into a pig. You will drop to all fours and begin snorting and oinking around the stage. When you are brought food you will eat it from the trough without using your hands. You will fully believe that you have grown to be a 500 pound pig, complete with tail and a love of messiness. Jesse, you will start to transform into a cow. You will also drop onto all fours and will then start to slowly move around your area as you moo and graze on the food that will be placed in your trough. You will fully believe that you have grown into a thousand pound cow, complete with a tail and a set of udders.”

“As you eat the foot placed in front of you on the ground you will become more and more aroused. But you are animals and will only be able to express yourself as those animals. Once your arousal is at a large enough peak to draw each other’s attention, you will become uncontrollably attracted to each other and will be pulled towards the other’s cock. Jesse, Alex’s cock will appear to be the sloppiest, messiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you won’t be able to stop yourself from sucking him off. Alex, Jesse’s dick will seem to you like the thick and strong dick of a bull who you’re trying to get with. You will both suck each other’s dicks until you cum all over each other, at which point you’ll realize what you’ve been doing for a moment before collapsing back into trance.”

It was a lot of instruction to be sure, but Dan was confident in his abilities and had developed a skill for adjusting and correcting his subjects in the moment if things got too far off track. Then again, sometimes off track was where the best treasures were found. He snapped his fingers and the show began again.

Dan snapping his fingers was the sign for Roland to start dinner service. He had platters over-piled with food for each table and a pair of special troughs for the boys on stage. Their food was poured into two foot-deep and 2-foot-long troughs, largely roughage and fruits and veg, all coated with extra fatty ranch dressing. He had experimented with what he served the subjects who underwent these animal transformations for maximum visual and weight-gain effect. It was a salad, technically, but nobody would mistake it for healthy food. 

On stage, Alex slowly stood up, ignoring his nakedness and the wet drool that had spilled from his and Jesse’s mouths onto his stretched-out skin. He couldn’t let his boss catch him sleeping on the ground when there was still work to do. Jesse stood up similarly slowly, as if he had just woken up from a wonderful dream. With a glance at each other, the two started miming their farm work as the crowd cheered them on. 

Jesse thought about how he really liked his job. He had time to get to know the pigs he oversaw and had become infatuated with how much they could eat. Sure, it was kinda gross to clean up after them, but that was a small price to pay for a job that he felt fulfilled doing. Sometimes he thought about what it would be like to be a pig, or a cow, even. Sure his work was fulfilling, but what if he didn’t have to work. What if he could just graze all day, moving only when he needed to find more food. Grass. It was grass, not food. But look at that green. It’s so inviting. There’s a soft dew on the grass and the way it captured the light made it look both thirst quenching and delicious. Hmm. That was a new thought.

Alex was gathering feed for the pigs. Their slop was never appealing to him, certainly not in its looks. Sometimes the smell could make his stomach rumble, its combination of sweet and savory aromas seemed like it could have come out of a (strange) professional kitchen, but that brief attraction ended when he looked at it. Whatever it smelled or looked like, it certainly did what it was supposed to do. These pigs were growing at an accelerated rate. The boss must have changed formulas, Alex thought. It did smell good. Maybe even better than it normally does. He poured it out, a gloppy mess of greens and meats and grains coated with a gravy-like sauce. Hmm. It did smell really good.

He knelt down next to the trough, drawn in by the more and more alluring smells emanating from the feed he just poured into it. Wow, it smelled like the best meal he’d ever had: a simple cheeseburger and fries the farmer had made from ingredients sourced on the farm itself. When everything was fresh it transformed a standard meal into one of the greatest things in existence. Alex started drooling as he sat huffing the slop at the trough. He didn’t notice his body expanding, his clothes (imaginary though they were) creaking and popping as he rapidly gained weight. If anything, the sensation of growing only made him more rooted to the ground, gravity pulling at his ever-widening body as his mind grew more and more obsessed with the brown sludge that now took up his whole vision. 

A few feet over on the stage, Jesse, too, had taken to his hands and knees. His head was bowed to the ground, bringing him as close as he could get to what he imagined to be a field of dewy, sweet grass. He hadn’t grasped any in his teeth yet, but his mind was singularly focused on it. He, too, ignored the sensation of growing, his belly growing down and out as his torso remained parallel to the ground. Hmm. Mmm. He bent further, biting at nothing but his hypnotically-induced vision of tasty, tasty grass. He chewed what he thought he had in his mouth, feeling his mouth and facial structure change. But that paled in comparison to the mental change he was undergoing. As he chewed nothing, he felt himself slow down, losing sight of his chores and duties, of his plans and ideas. The eating was the thing. He had to eat to fill his large stomach (or was it stomachs?). He swallowed the implanted memory of grass and it made him so happy. There was a trough there just a few feet away and the smell of it almost fully bypassed his brain as he started walking towards it, his legs feeling like they were bending in strange new ways but nevertheless effective at bringing him closer to the trough. There was a pig nearby, its face stuffed deep into its own trough. Before the cow that used to be Jesse bent over the trough to eat whatever delights were in there he mooed loudly, raising his head and letting the pleasure he was about to experience, and his emptiness drive him as he abandoned the last of his humanity.

Alex was already fully transformed in his mind. He snorted as he rooted in the trough, gulping down the feed as if it were all he’d ever eaten. His already large belly had grown huge, taken on a pink hue and lost most of its definition. He was just all belly, thighs, and fat. It felt glorious. He didn’t remember that he was a human with a job, or that the job he thought he had was just a hypnotic suggestion. His new body was real, little curly tail and all, and so was his existence as a pig. The trough had been mostly full when he had filled it ages ago in his human body. Now much of it was in his belly and on his face, a mix of fatty ranch dressing and fruits and vegetables coating his face regular human face, but in his mind there was a neutral-toned mess all over his elongated snout and all up around his fat cheeks. Well, his cheeks were fat in reality and this fantasy, but still.

As he continued noshing he started to grow erect, his dick responding as it usually did to stuffing and now even more eroticized as his mind had melted into oblivion, operating solely on desperate desire to eat and a lack of care about his messiness. The feed/salad had gotten all over his head and when he raised it to oink loudly in delight it dripped down his corpulent, naked body. Some had even dripped onto his hardening cock, sending a jolt of horniness through his body that made him hitch his breath as he woofed down the slop. His piggy hoofs couldn’t reach or manipulate his dick, or so he thought, and he decided to pleasure himself in the only way he could his piggy brain could understand: eating. 

Alongside him, Jesse was now also eating from the trough, slower but steadier. He chewed its contents, to him a mix of freshly cut grass and old straw, both delightful in their own ways. More importantly, both filling the impulse he couldn’t fight to eat and eat and eat. He broke his stride only to breathe and bellow with delight. When he did, or when the pig next to him oinked and snorted, he could hear a distant clapping sound and a few cheers. There was nobody around, so he couldn’t identify where they came from, but they made him feel proud and appreciated. He’d dig back into his trough with renewed gusto after those phantom applause breaks. And he felt his belly growing, bigger than it already was in his mind and very much bigger than it was in reality. Still, the feeling of approaching fullness brought with it a low but increasing arousal. His newly grown udders started aching for release. Somewhere deep in his mind he did the mental math of equating what he experienced as udders with his real dick. If he weren’t fully a cow, mentally speaking, he’d’ve had a brain break trying to square the four udders jutting from his lower torso with the hard dick his real body possessed. Luckily, he was just a dumb cow, acting out orders hypnotically dispensed to him in a lewd stage show. He went back to eating as precum started sliding out of his cock and onto the floor below. God, it felt so good to eat and moo and drip.

Alex was finishing up the slop within his trough, the feed mostly gone as he cleaned out the corners with his tongue. His hard piggy cock, a corkscrew his mind had conjured from some porn he’d read on the internet ages ago, was leaking, too. Again, had he access to his full mental faculties he might have been too confused by the changes his body had undergone. Luckily his transformation was also mental, and his only conscious thoughts had been about slurping up as much of the slop in front of him as he could. As he completed tongue-sweep of the basin in front of him he became even hornier than he already was and looked around to find something to satiate that animal hunger. 

He found what he was looking for in the cow that had its own messy face and dripping arousal. The cow had leaked a puddle of precum out of what appeared to be its udders. Alex’s pig mind glossed past the strange sight and followed the path of arousal instead of rationality. He plopped down onto his hoofs and sauntered over to the cow, who mooed as he saw Alex approach. He, too, was finished with his meal and had landed on his own hoofs, waiting for the slow-moving pig to reach him. There was a smell of sweat, ranch dressing, and various plant foods about the both of them, the stench of their naked bodies mixing with the remainder of the slop they had fed on for some time that remained plastered to their faces and bodies. 

As they met each other, the pig and the cow began their intimate encounter by licking and eating that sloppy remainder from each other’s faces, using their tongues to lick and slurp at each other. Their contact only heightened their arousal as they left behind only the stickiness of their saliva in the places where once scrumptious salad debris and ranch dressing had been. As they finished licking each other they went for a deep kiss, licking now the insides of each other’s mouths for that sweet taste. 

It was incredible. Their animal minds pushed aside any hesitancy either might have felt at kissing their best friend with such vigor and attraction. Instead of human anxiety and fear of disappointment or rejection, the cow and the pig were solely focused on the pleasure they were receiving from each other. The sweet taste of their meals lingered on their lips and deep into their mouths, driving their tongues to explore with alacrity and arousal. The cow, sitting on his haunches and leaning his fat, messy torso forwards, mooed with delight. The pig, also a mess and only getting sweatier from his passionate connection with the cow, let out a snort as he disconnected from the cow’s mouth, their saliva spilling between them and down their double chins onto their corpulent bellies. 

The pig continued to snort as he started to move down the cow’s front. First, he sucked at the cow’s neck, savoring the flavor of the slop that had slid down his bovine face whenever he came up for air while eating. Then he moved to the cow’s nipples. They were in the wrong place, he thought for the briefest moment before his pig brain kicked back in and he abandoned his rationality for arousal. His pig dick got harder and harder as he sucked at the cow’s tits, their soft fleshy mounds creating a perfect sensory experience as he mushed what he thought of as his snout into their supple fatness. 

As the pig suckled at the cow’s nips, the cow lowed plaintively, the pleasure he felt now something he had never experienced before in his life. If he could, he’d have thought about his transformation from a farmhand into a pig, and prior to that, from a supportive friend who thought he was only here so his roommate could experience a lifelong dream before becoming wrapped up into the show himself. Before tonight he would have thought of himself as straight. Now he was getting his moobs sucked on by his best friend and all he could think to do was moo. 

The pig moved lower, snorting and drooling all over the cow’s fat and full belly. There was less jiggle there than there might have been on an empty stomach, and the cow let loose with a loud fart as the pig mashed his face into the cow’s belly. The smell drove the pig wild, and he eagerly moved down the cow’s body towards it. There he found the cow’s udder. A hard, nub surrounded by a pad of fat that engulfed most of its length, particularly in this sitting position. It was a siren to the pig no matter the size. 

The pig locked onto the cow’s udder, sucking at the clear, salty milk (?) that was coming out of it as the cow moaned even louder. The milk tasted like ambrosia, and as the pig sucked at the teat even more of it came out. Had the pig been conscious of what he was actually doing outside of the confines of the hypnotic suggestion, he’d have been even more turned on than he was. He was finally blowing his long-time crush, a guy he had resigned to dreaming about rather than doing anything with. But he couldn’t process that fact. Not now. Now he only heard the cow lowing and huffing in pleasure, and it made him suck at the cow’s teat with a fervor that felt unquenchable. 

The cow’s udder was about to erupt. He mooed hard and harder, hyperventilating as he felt more pleasure than he’d ever felt before. He’d gone from a regular cow, chewing on grass and thinking about nothing in particular, to a vehicle for intense erotic pleasure. Milking never felt so good. He let another monstrous fart rip, the sound of its explosion from his wide ass adding to the slurping pig noises coming from the same area. The smell was ecstatic and the cow inched ever closer towards eruption. Who knew a pig could give him so much pleasure?

The cow felt so full. Stuffed to the brim. His belly bulged out so much the lower curve of it was getting hit over and over again by the pig’s head as he milked the cow. He couldn’t really move except for his pleasurable squirms from the pig’s ministrations. Oh, and the farts. He’d had a lot of roughage, and the fiber was making him explode. As a cow, he knew that farting was a large part of what he did every day. Now it took on an erotic charge, a release of energy and selfhood to be sucked up into his own and others’ noses. It made everything happening hotter, and he mooed every time he let loose. 

The pig huffed the cow’s farts like they were aphrodisiacs. They made him suck the cow’s udder faster and harder as he sensed the cow’s impending release. He licked around the udder’s head, twirling his head as much as his fat neck would allow. His forehead tucked up into the cow’s distended belly, the pressure pushing the pig’s mouth further down the cow’s udder. At the udder’s base was a small cushion of fat covered in wiry, curly hair. It smelled incredible. There were old sweat aromas, some flavor from whatever the cow had eaten throughout the day, and the sweet taste of the clear milk leaking out of the cow’s udder like a spout collecting down at that fat base the pig loved stuffing his snout into. The farts were coming faster and stronger as the pig felt the cow’s body tightening in pleasure and anticipation.

The cow bellowed louder than he had ever done in his brief time as a cow. He came hard, letting loose strong spurts of milk from his erect udder. As he came he slammed his large, bovine eyes shut, mooing and farting in equal measure. The pig oinked on his udder as he swallowed the larger load of salty-sweet milk. It was enough to make the pig cum all over the floor, too, his own sperm wasted except for making the two of them messier and smellier. A perfectly fine tradeoff, the pig would have thought if he could form ideas other than the compulsion to continuing to suck at the continuous gush of milk/cum from the cow’s still hard udder. 

Dan, observing this show to the side of the stage was getting hard himself, though his average length was hidden under his clothes and within a fat pad that turned his mushroom head into a little acorn peeking out from its soft pasture of bristly brown (and gray, he had to admit) hairs. Because of his increasing arousal it took him a moment to notice that Alex, the pig, had orgasmed just from swallowing his chubby friend’s cum. Must have really been pent up, the large hypnotist thought. It was good he came from this and not exactly following Dan’s hypnotic suggestion to only cum in his friend’s mouth, Dan considered, That’ll leave the fatty in a state ripe for more hypnotic fun during the dessert serving. These happy accidents always kept Dan on his feet and made for a more dynamic show.

On the floor of the stage, the cow and pig were slowly transforming back into their chubby human bodies in their minds. The pig’s skin turned pale, his fat reforming and receding into the normal fat that surrounded his skeleton, his face returning its old human features, and his dick un-corkscrewing as it leaked out the last of its cum, pulling back into its cushy home within Alex’s fat pad. He thought briefly that he was a farmer. A naked, fat farmer who had just dreamed of being a pig. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? He’d never even been to a farm. And he was certain he had never been a pig. But the memory of the dream was so strong. So was the taste in his mouth. It tasted of sweat and musk and… was that the bitter saltiness he remembered from tasting his own cum in the height of his stoned masturbation sessions? And ranch dressing? What kind of a farm had he been visiting? 

Jesse was similarly disoriented as he roused from his place on the ground. He released one last moo-moan from his human mouth. But his mouth was always human, wasn’t it? He hadn’t really been a cow, he couldn’t have been. He felt his distended stomach, full of all the bar food he had chowed down on before the dream. And full of grass, he though, before dismissing the idea as absurd. He wiped something white from his lips and rubbed it into where his pants should have been. That was when he noticed his total nudity, and his rapidly softening dick. A wet dream? A wet dream of being a cow? Who got sucked off by a pig? What kind of a dream was that? He’d had wet dreams, especially sometimes when Alex and he had stuffed themselves to oblivion, when he’d passed out still high and horny. Those dreams often featured his own body fatter than he was in his waking life. He’d put off thinking too much about that, but maybe it was time to think more deeply about it. Now that he was as fat as he was in his early dreams, and maybe falling in love with his best friend and roommate, who was even fatter. Alex was just over there, across the empty stage (why were they on a stage?), naked (why were they naked?) and looking around, dazed and disheveled. Like he had just woken up from a nap, which is how Jesse felt too. A deep, familiar voice rang out above them among the din of the audience (why was there an audience?) either coming to like the two fatties on stage or clapping and cheering for whatever reason. 

“The pig and the cow, gentlemen!” Dan helped the two not-quite-hypnotized fatasses on stage to their feet, the two of them stumbling as they adjusted to their even fuller stomachs and the fading memories of having four sturdy feet to stand on. He held their arms up as they stood to either side of him, like they had just been in a well-received performance of Oklahoma! Or something. He bowed with them, pulling their arms down, their bodies unable to resist his manipulation. Each of them let out a powerful fart as their bellies hunched over and their asses opened slightly, neither having enough presence of mind to stop their bodies from an embarrassing emission. Dan smiled as he brought their arms up again. He shuffled around a bit so that the seats they had been in earlier in the show were behind them, and as he brought their arms down again he commanded them to “Sleep!”

They crumpled into the seats behind them, heavy and soft bodies filling out the plush, oversized seating. Half the audience fell into the depths of a luxurious trance, too. Some of them had once been in Alex and Jesse’s positions, newcomers inducted into the brotherhood of hypnotized indulgence. Others were regulars, sometimes brought up on stage, sometimes enjoying what they remembered of the show from the audience. Sam, the bartender, felt the pull of Dan’s command to sleep. He’d followed that direction countless times from his old friend and lover. It felt so good to let go and give into Dan’s controlling, loving, fattening embrace. He wanted to feel that again. But he also knew he had to resist. There was time for fun after The Trough closed for the night. Besides, it was almost the end of the show. Just the dessert course remained. Roland had been baking cakes all day, preparing for the messy and arousing climax to the show and meal. Sam had tasted a bit of the rich, dark chocolate frosting Sam was preparing for the occasion and knew it would be just the sweet treat to finish off the night. He couldn’t wait. 

[charliegyrth]

Gasps - 2 of 2

In Part 1, I meet you in the park. You're so impossibly big that I have to help you get back home. You think I'm attracted to your obese body, but that's totally not the case. I'm just a caring person. That's all.

(Content warning. This gets very dirty.)

***

I watched you shuffle into your bedroom. Even though I could tell the doorframe had been widened, your hips still grazed the sides. You reached the side of the bed, smiled over at me, and allowed yourself to fall onto the mattress.

Your fat gut spread around you like a winter blanket, but your feet were still over the side. You needed my help again.

I walked closer, still not understanding why my heart was pounding so fast.

You didn’t ask for me to pull your feet onto the bed. You just expected it. You were wearing flipflops before, but they were gone now. You must've kicked them off.

You wiggled your stumpy toes. Playfully. Flirtatiously, even though this was the weirdest kind of flirtation I could imagine.

“Should I… help you?”

You kept wiggling. That was your answer.

I crouched down and picked your feet up one at a time until you were comfortable on your bed. California King size, I assumed. (Unless it was bigger. Unless you had it special-ordered.) With your head on a pillow and your shapeless body spread out in all directions, you looked like a king.

Even though you were still trying to catch your breath, you had a bemused smirk. You were waiting for me to act. But… what did you expect me to do?

“H-how can I help you now?” I muttered.

Your smirk spread into a full-on grin. You kept silent.

“I mean… Are you comfortable?”

Still no reply. You looked cocky. Your eyes (so much smaller when you smiled) were basically saying, “I know I’m hot. I know you want me.”

But I didn’t want you. I wanted to leave.

You lazily raised your arm and let it fall on your belly. You started scratching a cluster of stretchmarks. Like every other movement, this felt as if you were showing off again, like you were scratching yourself for me.

I couldn’t look away.

“I get so itchy sometimes. I wish I could… reach… a little… lower.”

“Wh-where?” I mumbled.

“My droop,” you said proudly.

You weren’t asking me to scratch your belly, yet the message was clear. My brain kept screaming for me to leave, but instead, I sat on the edge of the bed and placed my hands on the curtain of fat just below your belly button.

Your body was soft all over, but this part of you was the softest. Its surface was tissue-paper thin, barely any skin covering the loose, irregular lumps of fat underneath. I gave you a couple scratches and you let out a slow, breathy moan.

“Do you feel better?”

“Underneath, please.”

You wanted me to reach my hands underneath your overhang, in the warm space squashed between your belly and your thighs. That was… too much.

And yet…

My fingers traced down your belly and I buried my hands under your roll. Burning hot. I didn’t expect it to be this hot. And wet. The weight of your overhang was really pressing down; I could barely move my hands. But my fingers… I curled and uncurled them in a scratching motion.

Just a few times and your whole body quivered. You liked that.

It must be hard to have itches you can’t reach. It must feel great when someone…

Crunch.

As my hands were buried in your rolls, you grabbed a bag of potato chips from the nightstand and started eating. When I looked up at you (past your mountain of belly fat), you were stuffing your face and smiling. Always smiling.

“You’re welcome,” you said through a mouthful.

“Thanks,” I instantly responded. Only after the word came out of my mouth did I realize that it should’ve been reversed. You should be thanking me for scratching your itch. I didn’t choose to bury my hands inside you.

God. I felt so dirty. Not dirty enough to stop, though.

You scarfed down huge handfuls. Crumbs and salt rained down on your shirt. “Keep digging. I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Okay! That was too much. I pulled my hands out with a wet thwuck sound. I was too scared to look at them. (Or smell them.) I could feel how wet they were, though. Absolutely coated in whatever sweaty juices you kept tucked away.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna go,” I said.

You didn’t stop eating. “No you’re not.”

“I am! I just came here to make sure you were okay. And you are, so…”

Half-eaten globs of chips fell down your chins as you laughed. At me. “Sure, buddy.”

“Seriously. Bye,” I said. I got to my feet and headed toward the door. Once I washed my hands, I’d be out of here.

But for some reason I still couldn’t figure out, I stopped at the edge of the room.

“Change your mind?” you called behind me.

“No,” I muttered. “But you’ll be okay, right?”

“Perfect,” you said.

I looked around. What I was looking for, I had no idea. An excuse to stay? No, it couldn’t be that.

I noticed a pile of donut boxes on your dresser. Plus a funnel. Plus bottles of lotion and lube. There was a photo, too. It was in a heart-shaped frame. It showed a smiling man at the beach. He was about my size (average height and just a little chubby), though his face was a lot more handsome.

Judging by the frame, this must’ve been your boyfriend. No wonder you saw something in me that wasn’t there. I obviously reminded you of your boyfriend. Unlike me, that guy must've been a chubby chaser or whatever they’re called. Now it all made sense.

I felt a weird twinge in my chest when I realized that. It wasn’t jealousy, of course. I was happy that you had someone to take care of you. You didn’t need me anymore.

“Is he gonna come back soon?” I asked. “To help you get out of bed?”

“Who?” you asked. You let the empty chip bag fall to the floor.

“Your boyfriend.” I would feel better knowing that I wasn’t leaving you trapped here in a prison of your own fat.

“I’m not dating anyone,” you said.

“Then who’s…?” I nodded toward the picture.

You laughed so hard the bed shook. “Buddy, that’s me! I look at that photo for motivation.”

That’s you?

My pulse pounded out of control, and a surge of warmth spread to my crotch. I was… Jesus. I was getting hard.

Knowing that you’d gained so much, knowing that you started out looking just like me… My brain couldn’t process that realization. But my body reacted.

This was wrong. This was so, so wrong.

I turned to face you.

You noticed the bulge in my pants right away. “Still wanna leave?”

“I… I… What are you doing to me?”

You ignored my question. Grabbed another bag of potato chips. Ripped it open. Your eyes were fixed on me the whole time.

I had no control over my body anymore. I climbed back onto the bed. My mind was both empty and filled with a thousand thoughts. I could hear my unsteady heartbeat.

You waited for me to touch you again, and fuck it. I did. I placed my hands on your sloshing stomach and squeezed it. All this fat had a power over me. I couldn’t deny that anymore.

And though you didn’t say anything (and you didn’t stop eating), your breathing turned into gasps again. Because of my touch.

I felt inside your creases. I reached under your overhang. I explored your hot, sweaty bits. And without even realizing it, I grabbed the waistband of your sweatpants and tried to pull them down.

Tried to. Your pants were stuck.

“Don’t bother,” you said. “Your belly scratch already made me cum. Keep playing around and I’ll probably cum again.”

“H-how?”

You laughed. It didn’t feel like you were laughing at me anymore. You were just enjoying yourself.

“You can show me what you got, though.”

I didn’t know what that meant until the back of your hand grazed my bulge. I was harder than ever, more confused than ever, completely under your power.

You dropped the second chip bag. I didn’t know if you were finished (probably) or if you just wanted to focus on me. With your crinkled, smiling eyes gazing up at me, I pulled off my shirt.

I’d never been skinny, and I’d never felt skinny, but at this moment, I felt so tiny next to you. Just skin and bones, barely fat at all.

You took me in. You smiled. You licked your lips. Then you whispered, “Keep going.”

As if I had any other choice.

I unzipped my pants and let them drop. My cock was already revealing itself through the hole in my boxers.

“Not bad.”

That made my dick twitch.

“Climb aboard,” you said.

I wasn’t sure what you were asking of me. I didn’t even understand how someone like you could have sex anymore. How could I even reach…?

In response to my nervous look, you grabbed your upper belly roll to spread open the dark, sweaty crease that ran across your middle. You lifted it. Let it fall. Lifted it. Let it fall again.

It took me a second to realize what you were trying to tell me. And when I finally did…

I was scared. Scared of the idea. Scared of how my body was reacting to it. You wanted me to slide into your folds. Why? How could that possibly feel good to you?

Fuck it. None of this made any sense, so I might as well listen to what my body wanted, what you clearly wanted. I wriggled out of my underwear and climbed onto your massive belly. I was careful at first. I didn’t want to hurt you with my full weight.

But your body could handle it. No matter how much I was sinking into you, you never stopped smiling.

I looked you right in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?” you countered.

That was the question of the day. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Since the moment I heard you gasping in the park, I’d been nothing but confused. But my dick was sure. It was already leaking.

“Uh huh,” I said. I gripped my shaft and slid it into your cavernous belly fold.

"Oof," you grunted.

Before I knew it, I was riding you like a surfer on the ocean.

With each thrust, your body sloshed and more gasps escaped your mouth. You grunted, too. And whimpered. You liked this as much as I did. It was my movement that was getting you off. Your cock must be buried so far down in your piles of fat that your own body can simply stroke itself. I didn’t need to touch you down there (not like I could) for the pleasure to surge through you.

Your crease was deep enough to handle all my length, and I certainly wasn’t small. I pushed in, pulled halfway out, and pushed in again. I felt the warm, wet suction of your fat enveloping my cock. I bucked into you, over and over, and felt every quivering inch of your belly react. You jiggled in a thousand different directions.

You were gasping.

I was gasping, too.

I could’ve lasted much longer, but the excitement of knowing how wrong this was… It thrilled me. And soon, I was about to finish. Your folds were already flooded with juices when I thrusted once more and… let go.

I blasted deep into you, more than I ever had before. I literally screamed as you drained me. It was enough to fill your crease, to let tiny rivers leak out and wind down your trembling rolls.

I tried to pull out, but I was too exhausted and overwhelmed. I was still inside you when I collapsed fully onto your fat, burying my face in the crook of your neck. You were my waterbed.

You didn’t stop gasping for the longest time. And when your breathing finally settled, you whispered, “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” I whispered back. I really, really meant it.

The End

Thanks for reading! Check out my Patreon for more steamy stories.

[fillthattank]

A post with all my stories

Coach’s favorite jock: Will is the biggest and strongest guy on the team. But that’s not just why he’s Coach’s favorite.

The hot dog contest: James encourages Zack, the big jock he has a crush on, to join in a hot-dog eating contest. Zack really, really takes it to heart.

The biggest eaters: Logan is a big jock with a huge appetite. After bragging about it, he and his bros embark on an eating rampage through. Story written with @dudduk4992, go check him out !

Part 2 now available!

Help, I overloaded my gym bro!: You’ve just discovered this very stong supplement, boosts both muscle growth and appetite. What happens if you give as much of it as possible to your already huge gym buddy? No way that could go wrong, right?

An entire fridge: Alex is a big dumb jock who keeps eating his roommate’s food. When a powercut hits their flat, his roommate decides it’s time for some payback.

My Boyfriend’s belly: Dan’s boyfriend Rhys is constantly hungry. When Dan notices the size of his belly, he decides he should be feeding him more. Now has a sequel: Dan plans a (very large) birthday meal for Rhys, but his always hungry boyfriend might have already gotten stuffed.

Heavyweight: Colton’s wrestling coach just told him to get bigger. After years of fighting against his huge appetite to maintain the right weight, he can finally indulge in food. But just how big will Colton get ?

The dumb jock and his big belly: Tim doesn’t know why his belly keeps getting bigger, but he sure knows how to eat. A friend decides to play a trick on him.

Post workout feed : After working out, two gym bros get very hungry, and a bit competitive.

When Coach says “bulk”, you bulk : Jason always thought he was a big guy with a big appetite. Then, his football coach told him to put on 100 lbs, putting him on a diet that will push his belly to the limit.

Beer, Belly, and Strategy : He’s figured out a genius way to beat his buddies in a drinking contest. All he needs is for his belly to hold.

Bro, your girlfriend got you pregnant, or what? : Good: your best friend’s finally got a girlfriend and he’s really happy. Less good: she’s feeding him way too much and his belly is starting to get big.

A true story about my college days :  a fit guy, his big stomach capacity, and the massive lunches he would eat. Important note: while my other stories are fiction, this one actually happened!

[maxpounds]

Pig

The afternoon sun slanted through the living room window, turning the floating dust into slow, gold sparks. The new house was quiet except for the soft rustle of pages and cardboard. Most of the boxes had already been emptied and broken down, stacked neatly by the door. The last one sat open beside the bookshelf—the "books" box, the one they'd both saved for last.

Ben crouched near the shelf, sliding novels and cookbooks into place. He had dark hair and a short, neat beard. His blue eyes flicked over each spine, arranging them by instinct rather than order. He wore a soft grey t-shirt that clung to his chest and shoulders, the fabric stretched taut over his frame. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, the elastic band digging into the sharp V of his pelvis. Beneath the fabric, the outline of his thick cock was visible.

Jay knelt beside him, lifting the next stack out of the box. His light brown hair had fallen forward over his forehead, and when he pushed it back, Ben caught another glimpse of his eyes—the same bright blue, but gentler somehow, as if the color softened with his expression. Jay's build was rounder, fuller. His t-shirt clung a little at his middle when he leaned forward, the soft swell of his stomach pressing against the hem. When he reached to set a row of paperbacks on the top shelf, a sliver of skin showed above the waistband of his sweatpants, pale and smooth.

"Last one," Jay said, handing over a novel with a bent spine. "We're officially moved in."

Ben took it, slid it into place, and stepped back to look. The shelves were full—cookbooks beside thrillers, a few old photo albums tucked between. He smiled, stretching his arms overhead. The fabric of his shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above his sweatpants. Jay's eyes followed the motion, lingering on the curve of Ben's ass.

"Looks perfect," Ben said.

Jay dropped onto the couch with a heavy exhale. Ben joined him. They sat for a moment, side by side, sinking into the couch cushions. The afternoon light touched their faces, warm and slow.

"Our place," Jay said after a while, turning to look at Ben.

Ben looked around, taking in the cozy room filled with their belongings. "Yeah," he said softly. "Our place."

Jay smiled and leaned back, one arm draped along the back of the couch. The fabric of his shirt stretched lightly across his chest, and the soft curve of his stomach shifted when he breathed. Ben let his eyes linger for a moment, appreciating the gentle lines of Jay's body.

"Alright," Jay said suddenly, patting his stomach with a small laugh. "I think I've earned something greasy."

Ben chuckled. "Pizza?"

"Pizza." Jay grinned.

Ben made the call, and while they waited, they each took quick showers to wash off the long day. The smell of soap and warm water drifted from the hallway, steam curling against the cooler air. By the time the delivery bell rang, both men were freshly showered and relaxed, dressed down to snug briefs that clung to their bodies.

They sat together at the small kitchen table with the pizza box between them. The scent of baked dough and tomato filled the room. Jay opened the lid and smiled like a kid seeing his favorite meal.

"Perfect," he said, reaching for the first slice.

Ben watched him eat, amused, before picking up his own. The sound of the crust breaking filled the space between them, small and homey. They didn't say much at first—the food was good, and the silence between them was easy. Jay finished his pizza quickly, then hesitated, glancing toward Ben's plate.

"You can have another," Ben said, half laughing.

Jay smiled sheepishly, then took one of Ben's slices. "You sure?"

"Go ahead," Ben said. "You've earned it."

Jay didn't need to be told twice. He ate with the same quiet pleasure he always did—like someone who truly enjoyed every bite. Ben leaned back, just watching, his smile soft.

When Jay finished and sat back with a satisfied sigh, Ben reached over, resting his hand briefly against his side where the soft curve of his love handle showed above the waistband of his briefs.

"What an appetite," Ben said with a grin.

Jay laughed, swatting lightly at his hand. "Hey, moving's hard work."

"Sure it is," Ben said, still smiling. "Good thing I work at a bakery. You'll never go hungry here."

Jay leaned back, content. His gaze wandered down to Ben's crotch, where the outline of his semi-erect cock was clearly visible through the thin fabric of his briefs. He licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes.

Ben noticed Jay's gaze and smirked. "See something you like?" he asked teasingly.

Jay's eyes met his, bright with desire. "I think you know I do," he said softly.

Without another word, they both stood up from the table and began to kiss passionately. Ben's hands roamed over Jay's body, cupping his ass and pulling him close. Jay moaned into the kiss, his own hands slipping under Ben's shirt to caress his muscular back.

Breaking the kiss, Jay took Ben's hand and led him to their bedroom. Once inside, they stripped off their briefs and fell onto the bed together, their bodies pressed close as they continued to make out and explore each other with eager hands and mouths.

***

The late-spring heat settled over their street in a quiet, heavy way. Most afternoons the air in the house felt too still to keep a shirt on for long, so Ben and Jay moved through it in the most natural way they could—barefoot, in nothing but briefs, windows open, curtains breathing in the warm wind.

Ben always brought something home when he returned from the bakery each day: a small white box filled with what the shop couldn't sell. There were a couple of glazed rolls, a few donuts, sometimes half a cake. Jay, who came home later from his bus route, always seemed to be waiting for that sweet scent.

"You've done it again," Jay said on Tuesday, lifting the lid of the box. "You know I can't resist this."

Ben smiled, dropping his keys into the bowl by the counter. "That's why I bring it. But they are for dessert, after we've had dinner."

Jay grinned and reached for a roll. He ate standing at the counter, one hand on his hip. Ben watched the scene with quiet satisfaction.

As the week went on, the habit stuck. Ben came home with more and more treats, and Jay would finish them, sampling each one like a small ritual.

"I brought too much today," Ben said on Friday.

"It's never too much," Jay said with a grin.

After eating lasagna together, Jay took his time with the bakery leftovers, moving through each piece, making little comments about the filling, the glaze, the texture. Ben watched him with amusement, his eyes lingering on the way Jay's stomach jiggled with each bite, the way his nipples looked puffier.

When Jay finished, he wiped his hands on a napkin and stretched, a satisfied sound escaping him. Ben smiled, reaching out to pat Jay's belly. It was softer and gave slightly under his touch.

"I love watching you stuff yourself," Ben said softly.

Jay laughed, looking over his shoulder at Ben. "I can see."

Ben's cock was rock hard, straining against the front of his briefs. Jay turned to face him fully, his own erection tenting his underwear. He reached out to trace a finger along the bulge, feeling the heat of Ben's arousal.

"You're so hard," Jay whispered.

"Only for you," Ben replied, his voice rough with desire.

Jay dropped to his knees in front of him and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ben's briefs. He tugged them down slowly, revealing Ben's thick, hard cock. Jay licked his lips at the sight of it.

"You have such a beautiful cock," Jay said softly.

He wrapped one hand around the base, feeling the weight of it, the throb of blood beneath the skin. His other hand cupped Ben's balls, rolling them gently in his palm. Ben groaned at the touch, his hips rocking forward slightly. Jay leaned in and dragged his tongue along the underside of Ben's cock, from base to tip. Ben shuddered at the sensation, his cock twitching against Jay's lips. Jay licked around the head, swirling his tongue in the ridge where the head met the shaft, feeling the smooth skin.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," Ben groaned.

Jay smiled up at him before taking the head into his mouth, sucking lightly. He worked his way down inch by inch, taking more of Ben's cock into his mouth with each bob of his head. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, feeling Ben's cock throb against his tongue. Ben's hands went to Jay's hair, gripping it tightly as he began to thrust into his mouth. Jay moaned around his cock, the vibrations traveling up Ben's shaft.

"You're going to make me cum so hard," Ben groaned. Jay pulled off for a moment, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes.

"Then cum for me," he said before taking him back into his mouth.

He began to suck harder and faster, his head bobbing up and down rapidly. Ben's hips rocked forward, thrusting into his mouth, fucking Jay's face. The wet sounds filled the room. With a low groan, Ben came hard, his cum spurting into Jay's mouth. Jay swallowed it down, milking every last drop from Ben's cock. When he was done, he pulled off slowly, licking his lips to catch any stray drops of cum. He looked up at Ben with a satisfied smile.

***

Jay stirred first, blinking against the brightness, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet touched the cool wooden floor, and he stretched, a quiet yawn escaping him.

He padded down the hall to the bathroom, in just too-tight white briefs, and stepped on the scale. The number blinked up at him: five pounds heavier. Jay frowned slightly, then chuckled. "Well," he muttered to himself, "guess it's all those pastries."

He turned to look at himself in the mirror, really taking in his reflection for the first time in a while. The briefs hugged his hips and thighs snugly, emphasizing the soft curve of his ass and the way his love handles flared out above the waistband. His belly was rounder too, a soft paunch protruding slightly from his middle.

Jay ran his hands over his stomach, feeling the way it jiggled with the movement. He pinched at the new layer of fat, watching it bounce back into place. He had to admit, he didn't look bad like this. His body was soft and plush in all the right places.

Ben stirred from the bed, lifting his head from the pillow when he heard Jay's voice. "What's up?"

Jay looked down at the scale. "Gained a little this week."

Ben swung his legs out of bed, his dark hair mussed and beard slightly rumpled from sleep. He came up behind Jay, peering at the scale with a mock-serious expression. "Let's see..." he said, reaching over to read the number.

He leaned back, smiling. "Five pounds?"

Jay felt a warm flush spread through him, comforted by the quiet reassurance. Ben's blue eyes held a gentle sparkle as he continued, his gaze tracing over Jay's familiar shape. "Your ass is fuller," he said, giving it a playful squeeze. "And these briefs are so tight now." He hooked a finger in the elastic, tugging it away from Jay's skin to reveal a roll of flesh. "You look... sexy."

Jay smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

Ben grinned and headed toward the kitchen. "I'm making you a big breakfast. Pancakes. Tons of them."

The smell of butter and syrup filled the house soon after. Ben moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, flipping pancakes and arranging them on a plate. Jay wandered in, stretching again, still in his tight briefs. The fabric clung to every curve of his body, leaving little to the imagination.

When breakfast was ready, Jay sat down at the table and immediately began gorging on the stack of pancakes in front of him. The warm, fluffy cakes coated in rich syrup disappeared quickly, punctuated by satisfied hums and quiet laughter. Ben watched, smiling to himself at the joy on Jay's face, and with a growing erection.

"You eat like a pig," Ben said lightly, shifting in his seat to adjust his cock.

Jay glanced up at him, cheeks flushed and happy. "Can't help it," he said around a mouthful of food.

Ben leaned across the table and gave an affectionate pat to Jay's ass cheek, feeling the soft flesh jiggle under his palm. "You're going to need bigger underwear soon," he teased.

Jay laughed. He took another big bite of pancake, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing. "You know, most people would be worried, but I think I look good like this."

Ben nodded encouragingly. "I do too," he agreed. "You're gorgeous, Jay. Every inch of you."

Jay blushed at the compliment, ducking his head shyly. He took another bite of pancake, savoring the sweet taste as he chewed.

When he was done eating, Jay sat back in his chair, patting his belly contentedly. It protruded slightly now, round and full from the massive breakfast. He glanced over at Ben, noticing the tent in his briefs.

"Morning," Jay said teasingly, nodding towards Ben's erection.

Ben grinned. "I wanna fuck your big ass," he replied, standing up and letting his briefs drop to the floor. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, standing at attention.

Jay licked his lips at the sight, feeling his own arousal stir in response. He stood up and turned slowly. Ben wasted no time, hooking his fingers in Jay's briefs and yanking them down to his knees. His thick cock pressed against Jay's hole, the head slick with saliva.

"You want this?" Ben growled in Jay's ear.

"Fuck yes," Jay panted back. "Give it to me."

With one hard thrust, Ben entered him, sinking balls-deep into Jay's tight heat. They both moaned at the sensation, Jay's walls clenching around Ben's girth.

Ben began to move then, pulling out until just the tip remained inside before slamming back in. He set a brutal pace, fucking Jay hard and deep. The table shook beneath them with each thrust, plates and silverware clattering to the floor.

Jay pushed back against Ben, meeting him thrust for thrust. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed through the kitchen, punctuated by their harsh panting and groans.

"I'm gonna cum," Ben warned breathlessly.

"Fill me up," Jay gasped out.

With a few more erratic thrusts, Ben reached his peak. He buried himself to the hilt in Jay's ass and came hard, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside him. Jay followed soon after, spilling into his hand with a long, drawn-out moan.

They stayed locked together for a long moment, both trembling with the aftershocks of their orgasms. Finally, Ben pulled out slowly.

Jay stood up on shaky legs, turning to face Ben with a satisfied grin. "Breakfast is definitely my favorite meal now," he joked.

***

A month later, the morning light came in soft and hazy through the curtains. It was one of those slow Saturdays when time didn't matter—no alarms, no shifts, just the hum of the fan and the quiet rustle of clothes.

Jay stood by the open closet, a half-smile on his face as he tugged at the waistband of his briefs. They refused to cooperate. "Alright," he said with a small laugh. "These definitely shrank."

Ben, still sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up. "Shrank, huh?"

Jay chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. "Okay, fine. Maybe not. And these are the ones that fit best." He exhaled, resting his hands on his hips. His belly had grown noticeably rounder since they moved in together, soft and full. "I'm twenty-five pounds up since we moved in."

Ben got to his feet, stretching the stiffness from his back. His eyes roamed over Jay's body appreciatively—the swell of his belly, the way his tits and love handles jiggled, the thick thighs that rubbed together when he walked.

"You've been eating like a pig," Ben said with a grin. "My pig."

Jay ran a hand down his belly, which was heavier than before. "I'm getting seriously overweight. Look at this belly." He grabbed a fold of skin, letting it droop between his fingers. "And my nipples are so sensitive now that they're bigger."

Ben crossed the room and stood beside him, looking at the open drawer where Jay kept his underwear. The drawer was filled with briefs that were stretched taut across Jay's ass, the fabric thin and worn from use.

"You're so hot," he said simply. "I can't believe how round and soft your ass is now." He reached out to cup one cheek, feeling the way it filled his palm. "I'm obsessed."

Jay smiled, glancing at him. "You are?"

"Look how hard just looking at your big ass trapped in those tiny briefs makes me," Ben said, pressing his own erection against Jay's hip.

Jay laughed softly, feeling a flush of arousal spread through him. "Well, we're going shopping," he said. "I need bigger everything, not just underwear."

Ben grinned. "We'll make a day of it—grab lunch, find you things that fit right."

"Deal," Jay said, still smiling.

The day was bright and mild, the kind that made the city feel open and friendly. After a huge breakfast, Ben and Jay drove downtown, windows down, the radio humming under their quiet chatter.

Clothes shopping turned out to be easier than either of them expected. They drifted through racks, holding extra large things up for each other's approval. Jay found a few pairs of jeans that fit comfortably around his new ass, some shirts that didn't cling to his big belly and much bigger underwear.

By the time they left the third store, both of them were ready for a break. Jay glanced toward the square. "There's that little place you like—the one with the big portions."

Ben followed his gaze and smiled. "Perfect."

They settled into a table by the window. Jay looked over the menu and ordered too much food—two double cheeseburgers with extra bacon, fries, and a milkshake topped with whipped cream and a cherry.

When it came, Jay dug in happily, moaning around mouthfuls of burger and fries. Ben ate slowly, half the time talking, half the time just watching Jay enjoy himself.

"I think I might've overdone it a bit," Jay said, finishing the last bite.

Ben shook his head, amused. "You always do. You're such a pig."

Jay laughed, reaching for his milkshake. "Guilty as charged."

When they got back to their apartment, they unloaded the bags and took their clothes off.

Jay collapsed onto the bed with a groan, patting his stuffed belly. "I feel so big," he said, turning to look at Ben.

Ben crawled onto the bed next to him. "I like watching you overeat— like when you polish off all the leftovers I bring from the bakery every day," he said. "It turns me on."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How much does it turn you on?"

Ben pressed against him, letting Jay feel the hard bulge of his erection. "This much," he said, grinding his hips forward.

Jay moaned softly, wrapping a leg around Ben's waist to pull him closer. "Well then," he said with a grin. "Maybe you should do something about it."

Ben didn't need to be told twice. He started kissing down Jay's neck, hands roaming over his body—the swell of his belly, the softness of his ass, the thickness of his thighs.

Jay gasped and arched into his touch, reaching for Ben's cock and stroking it firmly. They made out sloppily, all tongues and teeth and grasping hands.

"Fuck me," Jay begged. "I need your cock."

***

By the time Jay's parents' car pulled up in front of the house, the late-summer light had softened into something golden and forgiving. The air smelled faintly of cut grass and the last blooms from the garden next door. Ben was in the kitchen, slicing bread for dinner, when Jay called out, "They're here!"

Ben wiped his hands on a towel and came to the door just as Jay opened it. His mother was the first through, short and bright-eyed, wrapping Jay in a hug. His father followed, shaking his head with that wry smile that always looked half like a laugh.

"Well, look at you," his mother said, pulling back. "You look... different."

Jay grinned. "Yeah, I guess I've gained a little weight."

His father gave a low chuckle. "A little? You're fat, son."

Jay laughed and motioned them inside. "I know. I'm up more than fifty pounds."

Ben reached out to shake hands, then found himself pulled into a hug by Jay's mother.

"It's wonderful to finally see where you two live," she said, looking around the small living room. "It feels like you. Cozy, lived in."

Dinner had been slow-cooking all afternoon: roast chicken, vegetables, Ben's bread cooling on a rack. By the time they sat down, the sun had gone, and the windows reflected the golden glow of the lamps. Plates passed back and forth, laughter spilled between questions about work, about the bakery, about Jay's bus route.

"You really drive the same line every day?" his father asked.

"Yeah," Jay said, helping himself for seconds. "I like it. It's simple. You start early, you finish early."

His mother reached for a piece of bread. "You bake all this yourself, Ben?"

"I did," Ben said. "Well, except the vegetables. Jay roasted those."

Jay grinned. "I have my talents."

"Apparently, eating is one of them," his father said, smiling, then hesitated. "Are you planning on dieting?"

The table went still for half a second—not tense, just quiet. Jay met his father's eyes, still smiling. "Nah... I'm good."

His mother reached over and patted his hand. "We just worry about you."

Jay laughed, shaking his head. "You don't need to worry about me, Mom. I'm OK."

Ben glanced down at his plate. He felt guilty for helping his boyfriend become fat, but it turned him on too much to stop now. And he loved calling him pig.

Jay's father cleared his throat, easing the moment back toward comfort. "Well," he said, smiling again, "it's good to see you both."

"Thank you," Ben said softly.

They talked until the candles burned low, until Jay had finished the last of the chicken. Later, when the dishes were stacked and Jay's parents had gone to bed in the guest room, Ben and Jay stood together by the sink, washing the last few plates by hand.

Jay bumped his belly lightly against Ben's back. "It wasn't so bad. Was it?"

"I guess not," Ben said. "They just want to make sure you're OK."

"I am," Jay said. "Thanks to you."

Then, Ben grabbed ice cream and a spoon, and ordered Jay to go to their bedroom. "If you finish it all, I'll blow you."

"Yes, sir."

Jay polished the whole tub of ice cream, even though he was stuffed from dinner, so Ben had him lay back on the bed and slowly pulled off his briefs. He licked around the head of his cock, taking in the musky scent of his boyfriend before swallowing his whole length. Jay started moaning, a little too loud with his parents in the room next door. Ben reached up to pinch and roll Jay's nipples between his fingers as he sucked.

"Shit," Jay panted. "I'm gonna cum."

Ben popped off and spat on Jay's dick, jerking him off fast and hard. "Do it," he growled. "Cum for me. Shoot your load all over your fat belly."

With a loud groan, Jay obeyed, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip. Ben aimed the first few spurts at Jay's belly button, watching them paint his soft skin white.

Jay collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Ben crawled up his body and kissed him deeply, letting Jay taste himself on his tongue.

"Good pig," Ben murmured against his lips. "My fat little pig."

***

It was Halloween. Ben's bakery had been busy all week with pumpkin loaves and apple tarts, and Jay had been ferrying kids in costumes on his bus route. They were both ready for a night that was about nothing more than laughter and good company.

The invitation had come from their friends Sam and Riley—an annual costume party that somehow drew half the city's creative crowd. Ben was going to go as a farmer: worn jeans, suspenders, plaid shirt and a straw hat. Jay, at more than 300 pounds now, was going to go wearing only a jockstrap and a pig's nose.

"I can't believe you're going through with this," Ben said, watching him adjust the too-tight jockstrap. His ass cheeks looked so round and full, and they jiggled with every step. His belly was massive now too and he had developed the sexiest man boobs. He was undeniably obese.

Jay laughed, mock seriousness in his tone. "I'm your pig," he said. "Besides, I look adorable."

Ben grinned. "You look hot."

"That too," Jay agreed.

They stepped out into the cold, joining the slow stream of people heading toward the big brick house at the end of the block. Laughter spilled out from the porch before they even reached the door.

When they entered, a chorus of voices greeted them—friends waving from every direction. "Ben! Jay! You made it!" someone called, already half-dancing in a wizard robe.

The living room glowed with orange light, cobweb decorations trailing from the ceiling fan. Jay barely made it two steps before Riley approached, dressed as a scarecrow and pointing at him with exaggerated shock. "Jay! Jesus! You're practically naked."

Jay laughed, shrugging. "I'm a pig."

"I see," Riley said, smiling warmly. "I hadn't noticed you were so... big."

Ben felt a rush of pride that he tried to hide behind a sip of his drink. He didn't say anything, but inside, his cock was twitching and already leaking pre-cum.

A little later, their friend Sam, in a glittering vampire cape, leaned over and said to Ben, "Is he OK? He's gained weight really quick."

Ben smiled, glancing at Jay, who was talking animatedly across the room. "Yeah," he said softly. "He is."

The night rolled on in a blur of conversation, laughter, and music that made the floors shake. They danced, ate too many snacks, posed for photos with friends. Every now and then someone would tease Jay about his costume, and he'd just grin, nudge Ben, and say, "Hey, he's the farmer. I'm his pig."

People were shocked.

"You having fun?" Jay asked.

Ben smiled. "You have no idea."

Jay laughed, shaking his head. "I can't wait to get back home and fuck that huge ass."

They were home, fucking, a few minutes later. Jay still had his costume on.

"They all saw it," Ben growled, fucking him hard from behind. "You're my fat little oinker."

Jay moaned loudly, pushing back against him. "Oik!"

Ben grabbed his hips, slamming into him hard enough to make his fat jiggle. Jay's heavy balls swung with each thrust, his cock bobbing between his legs.

"My fat creation," Ben panted, slapping Jay's cheek hard enough to leave a red handprint.

"Yes!" Jay cried out. "I'm your pig! Fuck your pig!"

Ben reached around to stroke Jay's leaking cock, working him in time with his thrusts. The room filled with moans and grunts of pleasure.

"Cum for me," Ben demanded, fucking Jay harder.

Jay obeyed with a loud squeal, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip. Ben followed soon after, buried deep inside Jay's ass as he filled him with his own release.

They collapsed together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, both gasping for breath. Ben peppered Jay's neck and shoulders with kisses as they came down from their high.

"That was amazing," Jay panted, turning his head for a kiss.

Ben smiled against his lips. "You are perfect. My sexy pig."

[charliegyrth]

The Unhappy Tourist

You're trudging through the market, your head down and your hands crossed over your belly. As if that would do anything to hide that thick, wobbling gut.

Nice try, buddy. I got fat-dar. A big boy like you has no chance of hiding from me.

You ping my gaydar, too. Not in how you're dressed, not in how you walk. There's just something in your eyes.

I step closer, standing straight, hoping you'll catch a glimpse of my tanned, shirtless body.

You pause in front of a rack of hats. It's Mark's stall. He sells everything for three times the actual price. He preys on tourists like you.

Your daughter looks up at you, modeling the single ugliest hat I've ever seen. It's big, flowery, and embarrassing.

You force a smile. I can't hear you, but I assume you're giving your approval. I'll never understand American fathers. They let their kids get away with anything. My own parents kicked me out at sixteen after catching me kissing the neighbor boy. Haven't talked to them since, and I'm better off for it.

Maybe that's why I have such a thing for big, bald daddies like you. Probably. It's best not to think about it.

You fork over some cash and your daughter squeals in excitement. She wraps you in a hug and kisses your mouth.

For a long time. With tongue.

Oh, I guess she's not your daughter after all. I guess she's your much-younger wife.

Well, dang it. You're off the market.

But as she kisses you, I notice that your eyes have finally spotted me. Do you...? Yeah. You like what you see.

Wonderful.

I walk past you, moving my hips with a little extra sway. Just to show off. To draw your attention. Then I stop. Turn around. I'm not looking at you. I'm looking over your shoulder. Toward Mark.

"Hey, man. Heading to the beach if you wanna come?"

Mark says no, of course. I know he's working. And he knows exactly what I'm doing.

That's when I smile at you. My fingertips slide along my cut abs. "You two should really check out the beach. Great views."

"Actually..." your wife says. (Her voice is quite annoying.) "We're still shopping."

"Suit yourself."

I turn and leave, my muscular ass shifting enticingly in my short-shorts.

I dangled the carrot. It's up to you what happens next. As I step down the irregular stone steps leading to the sand, I hear your wife's voice. She sounds upset. She sounds like she's arguing with you. I don't hear your voice, but I assume you're arguing back.

Good. I have a feeling I'll see you soon.

***

I'm stretched out on the sand. Soaking in the sun. Enjoying the glances.

It's been twenty minutes since I saw you at the market, and you're finally here. Alone.

You see me, but you pretend not to. It's cute, really.

I wave. "Hey! It's the hat guy!"

You walk over. So adorably shy. I love that. I love big men, mature men, who have all this untapped masculinity inside them but are too afraid to let it out.

You reach me but you don't sit yet. You don't know what to do.

I sit up. "Your wife didn't want to come?"

You shake your head.

"Probably enjoying her beautiful new hat," I say sarcastically.

That makes you laugh. You lower your defenses and sit next to me on the sand. An adorable grunt escapes your lips. You look at my body, then quickly turn toward the turquoise water. "You were right. This place is amazing."

I slide my hand toward yours. You're not ready to be touched yet, but I want you to know that I'm here. My fingers are less than an inch from yours, and you don't pull away.

"Relax a little," I tell you.

That makes you flinch. You think I'm calling you out for acting so nervous. "I'm relaxed."

"Really? You look hot. You're the only one here with your shirt on."

"Yeah. Because everyone else is..." You glance down at yourself. "Trust me. No one wants to see me with my shirt off."

"Why do you care?"

That seems to work. "You know what? You're right." You grab the bottom of your ill-fitting shirt (probably something your wife picked out for you) and tug it past your belly button, giving me the perfect view of your hairy roll. Then you lose confidence. You're just tugging at the fabric now.

"Go for it, my friend. You're not gonna scare me away."

With a deep breath, you peel off your shirt. Your confidence issues are forcing you to slump forward, only accentuating the deep creases that you desperately want to hide.

And even though I know what I'm doing, even though my hard life has forced me to go after what I want when I want, I'm still overcome. I still lose my breath.

I recover, of course. I can't let you see how much your overflowing body is turning me on. You're the perfect shape. So much hairier than I realized. Bigger, too. You have thick rolls (three of them) but you're solid. Your body has memories of muscles, even though they're buried.

"I used to be in shape," you mumble. "The last time I was here, I didn't look like this."

"Yeah?"

You think I don't believe you. You dig into your pocket. Pull out your phone. Flip to a picture of a beautiful, slim couple standing on this very beach. They're posed above us, on the lookout point next to the market.

I recognize the woman. It's your wife. Hasn't changed at all.

But the man next to her is toned and youthful. He has a full head of hair and a sharp jawline, but his eyes look like yours. His full-lipped mouth is yours.

"Three years ago," you mutter.

I stare at the photo for a long time. Yes, you used to be a real catch. As hot as I am now, honestly. But if I'd seen you three years ago, I wouldn't have approached you.

You have character now. You have substance. And size.

You look fifteen years older, not three, and I can only assume that your wife is the reason for all your changes. A woman like that would age anyone.

You wait for me to say something. I have to choose my words wisely. As I push the phone away, I say, "Wow. You were way too skinny back then."

You're shocked by my answer. Good. That's what I want. "But..."

And that's when I touch you. The edge of my hand brushes against the edge of yours. It's the slightest bit of contact, so you can chalk it up to an accident if you want.

You still don't pull away.

"What's your name?"

"Dirk," you say. Out of all the American names I've ever heard, that's one of the ugliest. But whatever. I can get over that.

Time to be direct. "No offense, Dirk." (God. That name!) "But I don't think you realize how handsome you are."

You stare at me for a long moment. Then you look at my hand against yours. You pull away. "I'm not gay."

"Of course not. You're married."

"Yeah."

"I'm not trying to be forward," I lie. "I just saw how unhappy you looked, and I wanted to tell you... You're hot."

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

This gives me the chance to keep going. "Listen, I see tourists here every day. I work just over there." (I point to the gift shop, which is true. That's where I work. And I only say this to make you know that I'm not a prostitute.) "And you seem like a guy who needs a... pep talk."

"Why?"

We lock eyes. I don't know anything about you aside from your terrible name, but at the same time, I know everything. "You're in an unhappy marriage. You and your wife got together when you were both young and equally photogenic. But the last few years have hit you hard. You're self-conscious. You feel like a schlub. You're angry at the choices you made."

You don't say anything, which means I'm on the right track.

"And you're so frustrated, Dirk. Because that wife of your is constantly reminding you of how much hotter she is, of how she's way out of your league now. She's on your case to lose weight. Maybe even to get hair plugs. And that pisses you off because you know that she's the one aging you. She's the source of all your stress. She's the reason you overeat. And you two have lived this way for so long that it feels impossible to get out of it. But it's not impossible, Dirk. And you shouldn't change anything about yourself."

Your face is blank. For a second, I think I've gone too far. It's always a risk to badmouth someone's spouse like that.

But then you have the most surprising reaction. You start to tear up.

I scoot closer. "She doesn't make you feel sexy, does she?"

"I'm not."

I slowly graze your soft, stubbly cheek with the backs of my fingers. You let me. Then I move to the top of your head, where your scalp is barely covered by wispy strands. I run my fingers through them. "You're sexy," I whisper.

Now I'm angling toward you. My muscular chest is inches away from your side. My hand goes to your second chin. So thick. I stroke it. "You're sexy," I say again.

You breathe louder now.

I grab your shoulders and gently guide you onto your back. You're comfortable. A little scared.

Both hands go to your thick chest. I can feel the muscle underneath. Your chest is so damn hairy. It's a fucking carpet. I squeeze just a little. "You're sexy."

And finally, I reach your belly. No rolls now. You're on your back, so your gut has reshaped into a solid mound of fat. Your skin is hot. Your belly hair is twice as dense as the hair on your hair. I rub and squeeze, making sure you feel my attraction through my fingers. And one more time, I whisper, "You're sexy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Then I let go. You need a moment to think.

Ten seconds. That's how long you lay on the sand, catching your breath.

Then finally, you turn your head to look at me. Your expression is unreadable. "You were wrong about one thing."

"What's that?"

"I'm not married. She's my girlfriend, not my wife."

"Good to know." I lean over you, cup your face, and kiss you. The waves crash at our feet. The breeze slides across our skin.

"Dirk!" someone screams.

I recognize that voice. It's your girlfriend. (Not wife.) She just caught us.

"Fuck," you mumble.

You try to sit up, but your belly weighs you down and you crash back onto the sand.

The woman marches over. There's fire in her eyes, which looks comical in contrast to her giant, ridiculous hat and the overflowing shopping bags in her arms. She's like a cartoon.

"What the hell, Dirk?"

You don't answer.

Then she looks at me. "He's not interested. Whatever he paid you, give it back."

She thinks I'm a prostitute. A beach boy. She thinks the only reason I would kiss a guy like you is if you paid me. That says a lot.

I stand up. "Dirk deserves better."

She gasps. "Screw you! Babe, let's go. Now!" She extends her arm to help you stand.

You don't take it.

"Dirk! I swear to God! If you don't come with me right now, it's over! We're done!"

Finally you speak. Just one word: "Okay."

The woman screams. She literally screams! Then she spins around and marches up the steps. She pauses halfway, I guess expecting you to change your mind. You don't.

When she's gone, you smile up at me. "Thank you."

I grab your thick arms and help you to your feet. I kiss you again. As I hold your wide shoulders, I feel all the heaviness lifting out of your body. You're finally free.

Then I lead you back to my place just off the beach, where we can be alone. I'm about to give you a real reason to thank me.

The End

Thanks for reading! I wrote a short backstory for the characters on my Chuck Gyrth page if you're interested.

[secretbigboylover]

The Frat gets Fat

[CW: Gainer fiction, magical weight gain, extreme weight gain, little bit of non-con weight gain, straight to gay]

If you like my, writing why not support https://ko-fi.com/bigboycreative

Daniel opened the door to his room in the frat house and froze. Sid, his roommate, was laid out flat on his been naked and fat, like really fat. Sid wasn’t fat when Daniel left for class this morning, he was a typical jock, lean cut muscle, chiseled jaw, absolute lady killer, the works. Now Sid was the north side of 400lbs with a massive belly that pooled around his tree trunk thighs. He was moaning as he tried to reach passed his enormous belly.

Daniel was aw struck by what he saw. He has a secret, well a few secrets. First, he was gay, and never told anyone, second, he liked his men fat and loved watching men get fat, third he had imagined what Sid and the other frat brothers would look like super fat. It was safe to say Daniel had a massive boner at the sight of his dream come true. Another minute of Daniel standing in the doorway went by before Sid noticed.

“Yo Dan, help a brother out and blow me. I can’t reach and hmmm I’m so horny.” Sid said.

He rocked back and forth trying to reach. His new fat jiggled and bounced as he did. Daniel stifled a moan. This was all he ever wanted. As he stepped into the room and closed the door a thought occurred to him. What if this was a prank? There are super convincing fat suits in the movies, and the frat was legendary for their prank wars. Could one of his frat brothers have found out that he had a thing for fat guys? Now scared he could be walking into a trap; Daniel slowly made his way over. God, Sid looked so big up close. His new form covered most of the bed, and Daniel could hear the bed creak and groan as Sid shifted around. If this was a prank it was a real convincing one.

“What happened to you, Sid? Why are you so fat?” Daniel said.

He figured if he played confused and slightly grossed out that the prank wouldn’t be as incriminating. Sid just looked at him confused and so horny.

“What do you mean? I’ve always been one of the fatties of the house. That’s why Noel dropped off a huge supply of her doughnuts, so the fatties and the jocks could both get some.” Sid said.

Sid wasn’t an actor; he actually used to bully the theater kids in high school. Daniel knew something was up. Noel, the head cheer leader, and Matthew, the quarter back for the football team, had been dating up until a week ago. They had some massive fight over some other girl that Matthew also found attractive. Daniel thought Noel was nice, but also knew she could easily become jealous. He was convinced she ran a bakery out of her sorority just to make the other girls a little bit fat. He also knew she was into astrology and witchy stuff, maybe she put a spell in the doughnuts, made as much sense as Sid becoming fat and gay.

Daniel had to check on these doughnuts. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he felt like he had to do something. He didn’t want everyone in the house to become massively obese… Ok maybe he wouldn’t be against that idea, but this felt wrong. It felt petty and unnatural. What would Sid’s girlfriend think? How many people are going to get caught up in Noel’s petty little revenge scheme. As righteous as his intentions felt a part of him really hoped Matthew at least had one of the doughnuts. He couldn’t imagine the 6’ 2” 200lbs of solid muscle jock with an ounce of fat on him, but he’d like to see it.

                                                            *

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Daniel was kind of liking what he was seeing. Several of his frat brothers had ballooned well passed Sid and they were just as horny. Cody and Adam were spread across the couch as two other brothers Daniel couldn’t identify where buried underneath their bellies giving head. Daniel was wishing he could hide his boner, but part of him felt like his brothers wouldn’t mind. He didn’t see Matthew or the rest of his brothers, maybe it wasn’t too late to stop this.

Daniel found a stack of doughnuts set on a beautiful display in the kitchen. Over 20 doughnuts were left on the display with a visible dent where the others took some. He picked one up to see if it was filled or weird in any way, but they seemed normal. The only off thing was he had a stronger desire to eat it while holding it. He quickly put it down. Daniel couldn’t afford growing absolutely massive before figuring out what was going on, no matter how tempting that sounded. Attempting to find out if there was anything else weird about the display he felt around the bottom, finding nothing he removed the rest of the doughnuts and put them on a plate. A pink envelope marked ‘for that cheating asshole’ sat underneath all the doughnuts. Definitely Noel’s handwriting. Daniel wasn’t sure what to do. Part of him wanted to open the letter and get to the bottom of it all, another part wanted to just give that letter to Matthew and make him deal with it, and an ever-growing horny part of him wanted to hide the letter and make sure his brothers ate the doughnuts. Before he could decide he heard Matthew’s bedroom door open. Matthew’s room was on the other side of the kitchen away from the common area, he’d have no idea what happened to Cody and Adam. Matthew walked in to the kitchen. He looked like he had slept through class and was a little puffy around the eyes. Was he crying? Despite this he greeted Daniel with is normal energy.

“Danny boy! How’s it going? Who brought in these doughnuts?” Matthew said.

Daniel would never be certain if his failure to stop what happened next was because of his shock of seeing Matthew disheveled or if he was too horny and wanted the jock fat. As quick as lightning Matthew grabbed a doughnut and shoveled it into his mouth. He barely chewed the thing, just inhaled it. Daniel attempted to hide the letter, but it was too late. Matthew cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh? Does one of Noele’s sisters have a crush on you?” Matthew said.

Daniel started to sputter and answer, but Matthew didn’t seem interested and just kept talking.

“Man, I really fucked up,” Matthew said as he grabbed another doughnut. “Noele was such a perfect girlfriend and I fucking blew it. All for boring Bethany.”

Matthew held his head in his right hand as he stuffed the doughnut in with his left.

“I mean, it’s not like we had sex or anything. Just some casual flirting. I’m such an idiot, I thought she was trying to get my help to hook her up with Cody, but no. She wanted to sleep with me. I of course told Noele everything, but she just lost it. Told me it was ‘so over’ and that I’d never score with a woman again. I mean a bunch of nonsense, but I know she meant it.”

Matthew paused and looked Daniel up and down.

“Yo, Danny Boy have you been working out? You look pretty good.”

Daniel could see Matthew’s dick starting to harden.

“Damn, whatever girl got you all this is lucky. I bet you are pretty good with the ladies.”

Matthew was starting to get drunk off of how horny he was, Daniel was doing the same. Without thinking he said.

“The ladies? No, I prefer men.”

There was a long pause after Daniel said it. He didn’t know how accepting the frat was, but he was hoping the doughnuts had a quick effect. In a flash Matthew was on him. Daniel expected a fight, but was shocked when Matthew’s lips locked onto his. They shared a long and passionate kiss, before they began making out. Daniel took the opportunity to feel up Matthew’s body. Matthew had sculpted the perfect jock body over years of exercise. Perfect washboard abs, chiseled jaw, biceps as thick as his head. Daniel had spent many nights imagining how good it would feel to be pressed against all that muscle. His dick sprung to full mast when he felt the first signs of softness on Matthew. He had eaten two doughnuts. Daniel didn’t know how many Sid had, but he hoped it was one. Watching Matthew blow up would be the highlight of Daniel’s year.

Matthew let out a soft moan as Daniel grabbed his new belly. The changes were coming fast. Before their make out session stopped Matthew had a belly that hung over his waistband. His boxershorts where reduced to shreds as his new fat thunder thighs exploded out. Matthew’s shirt rode up is stomach before it became a makeshift bra. As soon as their kiss broke Daniel buried his face into Matthew’s neck. Deep moans rolled from Matthew as Daniel frantically marked up his neck. Daniel was overjoyed when he had to lift his partner’s belly to get at his dick, and even more aroused to find a thick layer of fat had already reduced said dick in size. Daniel was like a rabid animal. He just wanted to experience every inch of the new Matthew. He moved down from the neck to Matthew’s chest and massive moobs. He latched on, teasing them with all his might. Matthew just moaned, his mind mush from all the stimulation. Feeling his grip on Matthew’s dick loosen, Daniel abandoned the moob he was sucking on, dropped to his knees, lifted the belly and dug for the dick. There wasn’t much left, just about the head was the only thing peeking out. Daniel’s tongue danced, sparking even deeper moans from Matthew. Not too long after Matthew flooded Daniel’s mouth.

Daniel stood and appraised the new Matthew. He had to have been almost 800lbs. Truly a whale of a man, his belly hung low covering most of his legs, his moobs would put many women to shame and made his arms jut our far away from his body, his perfect jawline was gone replaced with rings of fat. Daniel continued to play with Matthews moobs, teasing them with his fingers.

“Th-Thank you,” Matthew said, breathlessly “That was the best head I’ve ever had.”

Daniel kissed him again, letting his rock-hard dick grind into his soft belly. When the kiss broke Matthew could only say one thing.

“Fuck me, fuck me please.”

Daniel guided Matthew back to Matthew’s room. As much as Daniel wanted to show Matthew’s new size to Sid, he knew the big boy could no longer handle stairs.

In the bedroom Daniel explored every inch of the new Matthew. He kissed every roll, soothed every stretch mark. Daniel imagined Matthew was probably normally dominate in bed. He has imagined letting Matthew having his way with Daniel’s body, but now the roles were reversed. New Matthew, fat Matthew, seemed timid, even a little submissive. Daniel ordered Matthew onto the bed, doggy style. As much as he’d love to see Matthew’s face while he mounted him, he didn’t think the big guy could keep his legs up long enough. Matthew eagerly crawled onto his bed. The bed creaked and groaned, almost at the verge of breaking. Daniel knew he wasn’t going to stop until it did.

Daniel mounted and pounded into Matthew. Matthew’s whole body rippled, every ounce of fat sloshing into each other. Matthew let out a deep moan that almost made Daniel cum then and there. Thew two road a wave of pure pleasure and indulgence before crashing down as the bed buckled underneath.

It wasn’t a long fall. Just a few inches as the bed frame gave out. Even so it caused all of Matthew’s fat to jiggled and shake for a good few seconds. Daniel came, and came, and came. It was better than he could have ever dreamt. All Matthew could do was moan and sit there as his new fat body was flooded with pleasure. The two collapsed together and laid there for a moment enraptured in extasy. The moment was broken when Matthew’s tummy growled.

“Hungry big guy?” Daniel said.

Matthew nodded.

“I’ll see if there are any more of those donuts left.”

Daniel got up and grabbed Matthew’s phone before he left. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to make the whole frat fat. He unlocked the phone, Matthew didn’t believe in passwords, and sent a message into the fraternity’s group chat. “Yo dogs, Noele made these amazing donuts for the house. Everyone absolutely HAS to try them or its 10 laps before keg night”.

Daniel smiled to himself as he imagined his brother’s fatter and Matthew the fattest of them all. He’s had to thank Noele the next time he saw her.

[reedrfeedr]

slob (non-consensual)

(Don’t say I didn’t warn you. CW: implied weight gain. slob. sensory descriptions. encouragment.)

I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to be such a slob when you get fat.

I know, I know, you’re not actually going to be that sloppy, surely those folks just don’t care about their appearance, and a nice, put-together fatass is pretty hot anyway, right?

Sorry, but I just don’t think that’s going to be you. I’m sure you’ll start with great intentions, you might even try to keep up your clothes with your rapidly expanding body, but sooner or later everything is going to catch up with you.

Do you think you’re going to want to buy new clothes when you outgrow your shirts again, especially as your appetite necessitates that food budget ballooning? Or will it be easier to let your standards just…drift a little?

It might start small - you wouldn’t normally wear a shirt that makes your tits that prominent, but maybe it’s okay just for a few weeks to wear ‘em a little taut, maybe Christmas is coming up and that holiday indulgence can get covered up with some money afterwards, and you can get away with wearing an extra sweater (that’s also tight…)

You’re already used to that feeling of you being stuffed into clothes like a sausage, it makes it easier to accept when you notice that your shirts sort of rest on top of your belly, coming to rest just past your overhang, making you look even bigger - it’s not like you dislike the look, and even though you’re supposed to make sure the hem of your shirt reaches your pants, you swear you just bought this shirt a few months ago, and you’re hoping it at least lasts a year or so…so you let it go.

Of course, once all your shirts start fitting like that, it might take you a bit longer to notice when a sliver of belly starts showing, too - at first, it’s your tightest shirts, and only when you raise your arms. You probably won’t even notice until you catch yourself stretching in a mirror as you’re about to head out. Of course, you’re already dressed at that point, and you don’t want to to dirty another shirt with your natural sweat…and that little give, that little relaxation, starts gaping wide open once that sliver shows itself more and more, and starts growing into an omnipresent curve instead.

What’s that? Oh, you’re not naturally sweaty? That’s okay. Fat-You will be. Don’t believe me? You know that hot, sticky feeling of skin-on-skin, friction meeting body heat meeting perspiration, the kind that happens when getting intimate with someone while naked? Imagine that feeling across every inch of your yielding flesh.

Maybe it starts with your overhang pressing into your thighs, a joyful blossoming that’s also met with a new sweat patch. Or maybe your side rolls will start accumulating, sagging fat pressing into itself and trapping heat. There’s always the classic, too - fattened, increasingly insulated arms pressing against the sides of your fattened tits (the ones pressing into the front of your shirts), warmth and heat trapped in your new, space heater body. Eventually, your thighs will fight for space with your crotch fat too, you’ll have to fat-spread when you sit just to give a chance of getting some air.

Oh, you can try mitigating some of it - wearing extra layers (which obscure the sweat stains but insulate you even further), or caking yourself in deodorant. But face it. You’re going to be a sweaty fucking pig. Might as well enjoy it.

Speaking of those layers, you’re going to start to understand what fat fucks dress the way they do as you pack on the pounds. That aforementioned clothing budget is made a little easier with some elastic sweatpants, because at least your fat, blubbery ass won’t start hanging out of them for a little longer than usual. (Wondering what happens when you blow out the waist from over stretching? Yup, plumber’s crack.)

And even when you can find clothes that fit, you’ll find that taste goes down as Xs go up - did you think all big folks had no fashion sense? Nah, it’s because the only clothes that go past 3XL tend to be the most painfully generic brand T-shirts. You know the ones.

’Kickin’ it old skool’ in Comic Sans. Stock photo of an NES.

Star Wars Font:** ‘Big Daddy.’ **Clip Art Darth Vader.

Cartoon dog pointing. Speech Bubble: ‘VAXXED?’

Similarly, the act of bending over is going to go from difficult to untenable in the span of a few binges, and you’re going to love the ease of slipping into some cheap flip-flops once the thought of lacing a pair of shoes leaves you breathless.

Oh, yeah. Breathless. You’re going to have that fat fuck mouth breathing habit crop up, and it’ll get harder and harder to hide once a short walk leaves you winded, and walking and talking gets harder than it used to be.

Not even the most cartoonish acts of slovenly decadence will be completely obscurable - as that overhang grows, as that belly you’re going to be so proud of starts to fill your lap, you’re going to have an expanse to cross to get food to your mouth. And you know what that means, right? That’s right, tubby: food stains.

All of it will start to pile up - the stretched clothes and strained waistbands, the lethargy and the sweaty exertion, the sheer urge to no longer give a fuck…maybe you’ll start to realize - all those little things, that extra effort at your weight, will all be to try and placate people who don’t want to see past your size, to cater to tastes you don’t even share, to fit a model for your life you deliberately outgrew two sizes ago.

Then, you’ll realize - maybe those other fat fucks you’ve seen, maybe they haven’t given up. Maybe they merely chose to no longer squeeze into those imaginary rules. Maybe they’ve escaped.

Maybe that’s the feeling you’ve been chasing ever since you decided to get fat.

Personally, I think having some taco sauce spots just under your double chin will really accentuate the section of clefted belly wobbling under the bottom of your sweat-stained graphic tee, don’t you?

[loakachunk]

Monkey's Paw

Definitely one of my more extreme tales. Be warned! Slob, extreme weight gain, and breath play ahead.

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---

I should have been happy. A loving boyfriend, a cozy (and affordable, somehow) condo downtown, and plenty of supportive friends and family. I should have been content. But I wasn’t. And I knew why.

It was the sex. Or, more accurately, the lack thereof. I love Gavin, really. He’s been easily the longest relationship of my entire life, and when we were dating he’d often throw down in the bedroom two or three times in a row, but after we moved in together everything just sort of… stopped. Instead of having a wild weekend of drug-fueled sex we had weekends of grocery shopping and arguing over what colors to paint the walls and see what TV we wanted to watch over dinner. It was all blissfully domestic, but I desperately missed the passion we used to share. 

Part of that probably came with the changes in our lifestyle. Who am I kidding--almost certainly that was most of it. Gavin used to be the kind of guy to get up at 6 AM every day for a morning jog, but then we moved downtown and he couldn’t find anywhere to run. Combine that former runner’s appetite with a deep appreciation for my cooking, and Gavin had put on a ton of weight. I knew he was self-conscious about it, but no amount of me saying I was okay with having a fat boyfriend made him okay with being a fat boyfriend. 

Which sort of explained why I was in the natural health slash occult store that had recently popped up in the gay district. I didn’t think a few Cialis pills were going to cut through the sudden lack of sex drive. We needed something more potent, less regulated, and maybe even beyond human comprehension. Okay, maybe this pointed more toward my desperation than the actual state of our relationship, but nobody ever said wise decisions came from an overabundance of horny.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to hide my embarrassment. “I was wondering if you had something that could… um, make my boyfriend a little hornier?” 

The woman behind the counter smiled kindly--she probably got this question a lot. “We have everything from ginseng root to more… Esoteric male enhancements.” 

“Maybe I could check out some of these ‘esoteric’ options?” 

She raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn’t react to my request. “Well, I do have to warn you that the more esoteric we get, the greater the potential for side effects.” 

“What sort of side effects?” 

She shrugged. “It’s not like a pharmacy, I don’t have a long list of unintended medical ailments like nausea, headaches, and colorectal cancer. You might suddenly grow an appreciation for horticulture. You might want to start howling at the moon. You might even find your whole life has changed alongside the one thing you wanted.” 

“Wow, okay,” I rubbed my face in frustration. “I just want my boyfriend to believe me when I say I don’t mind how big he’s gotten and I just want us to fuck like we used to. What can you do with that?” 

After a few moments of thought, then a quick rummage under the desk, she eventually produced what looked like a shrunken hand. Only it had three fingers instead of five. 

“This can grant you three wishes. Use them how you like.” 

I looked at the disgusting fetish skeptically. “What’s the catch?” 

“Too many potentialities for me to list,” she said with a shrug. “But, it is guaranteed to give you what you ask for.” 

“Guaranteed, eh…” I made a show like I was thinking about it, but I’d already made my decision. “How much?”

“$49.95,” she said. “We also have a return policy for this item where you can get back $15 after you go through your three wishes.” 

“Wait, you want it back when I’m done? I thought this was a sex store?” 

“You don’t need to insert the hand for it to work,” she said, rolling her eyes at my ignorance. “Just think about what you want while holding it, and it’ll happen.” 

“Oh, well, sure,” I said, offering a few bills. She gave me my change and wished me a “good day” as I left the store with an unmarked paper bag.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted a boyfriend that was hornier and didn’t get hung up on his own weight. What I didn’t know was exactly how to go about asking a shrunken hand with three fingers how to get these things. The woman at the store said to just hold the hand and think about what I wanted, so I did just that after I got home. I even said it out loud. 

“I want my boyfriend to be hornier,” I said, and after the last syllable left my mouth, one of the creepy fingers curled up. Clearly, I’d used one of my wishes. 

Just then, I got a text. Gavin was normally pretty silent while he was at work, but the text was… a picture. It was his cock. It had been years since he’d sent me a dick pic, and he’d never been so horny as to take a picture of his erection in the bathroom stalls at his work. 

He followed it up with another text begging me to fuck him later tonight. “Yes, absolutely!” I texted back. He then apologized for his gut being in the way of his cock. It was barely a sliver of flesh at the top of the picture. I rolled my eyes but wrote back, “That’s okay!” 

It worked. It had really worked. I grabbed the hand and made my second wish: “I wish my boyfriend didn’t care about how fat he’s gotten.” Once again, a finger curled down, leaving the last one extended. Down to one wish. This time I didn’t get a dick pic from Gavin, but he suggested that I make him his favorite meal to go along with the wild sex he had planned this evening. This was getting better and better.

I still had one wish left, but I honestly didn’t know what I wanted. I could have saved it—I probably should have, honestly. But after a day of impulsiveness, I made one last fateful decision. “I wish I had a bigger dick,” I said. The last finger curled until the hand made a tiny three-fingered fist. I waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Well, two out of three ain’t bad, I thought. I really had nothing to complain about in the cock department anyway. Gavin always said he loved taking my cock because he never had to struggle to accommodate me, but I knew he had a few larger butt plugs for when he really wanted to fill himself up. I’d sometimes wished I could give him that feeling. I guess we’ll have to keep using those plugs, but I’d be happy if they saw use. It meant that our bedroom life was alive again.

And if those text messages were any indication, that was going to happen in just a few hours. I was already half-hard with anticipation. I tidied the place, made sure the bedroom was ready with clean sheets and lube never further than arm’s reach and waited patiently for Gavin to get home.

---

I didn’t have to wait long. “I’m home!” Gavin announced as soon as he got through the front door. “I left early. I just couldn’t wait… I dunno what’s come over me today, but I need you. Bad.” 

We didn’t say another word. He just kicked off his shoes, grabbed me in his big, burly arms, and kissed me. It was like a switch had been flipped. This was the horny Gavin I remembered, the kind that would fuck before a dinner date, the kind that said hello with tongue rather than words. We tore at each other's clothes, articles getting flung around the apartment as we made our way to the bedroom. By the time we got there, we were both naked, both tugging the other’s cocks as I ran my tongue up and down his neck. I could smell the sandwich he had for lunch on his breath, but I didn’t care. I wanted him as badly as he wanted me, and nothing would stand between us and carnal satisfaction. Not even Gavin’s gut.

Honestly, that was the best part. Sure, the fucking and sucking were as amazing as ever, but Gavin had gone from being shy about his extra pounds to using them in the bedroom. When he was on top, he’d drag his belly over my hardon, teasing me in ways he never could with washboard abs. At one point, he bracketed my cock with his chest before going down on me. He wasn’t big enough for me to fuck his tits, but it was clear that he’d thought about it before realizing he’d need to put on a few dozen more pounds first.

And the noises he’d made when I was inside him… I don’t think I’d ever heard Gavin moan like that before. It was almost like a desperate whimper every time I drove myself in as deep as I could go, and it was more encouraging than anything he could have said. Almost as encouraging as the puddle of precum that had formed on his flabby tummy, or how his ass seemed to grip my tool like a vice. It was almost uncomfortable how tight he was.

That discomfort actually allowed me to last a bit longer than usual. I plowed him hard, long, and deep. Seconds before I felt myself hit the point of no return, Gavin shouted his orgasm, splattering his smooth torso with several ropes of cum. His spasms tipped me over the edge, filling him with my own ample load. 

“Holy fuck,” Gavin said after he caught his breath. “That was a hell of a fuck.” 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Too long. But you know what I could go for now? Your chicken carbonara,” Gavin slapped his stomach, causing his flesh to ripple enticingly for a few moments. “This tank is empty!”

I thought I could get used to the new Gavin. But you know what they say: be careful what you wish for.

---

At first, things were great. Our sex life had never been better. We fucked morning, evening, and night, and as Gavin piled on the pounds, he became more and more adventurous in bed. He’d started to bully me with his weight, slamming me between his bulk and the wall while we made out or letting his now hundreds of pounds pin me to the bed. It was incredible the turnaround in his inhibitions, and I couldn’t be happier.

That is until one day. It had been maybe three weeks since I’d made my wishes. Gavin was on all fours presenting an ass that had nearly doubled in size. His belly hung down to the mattress and spread out like pancake batter. The folds of fat at the back of his neck bunched up as he looked over his massive shoulder to wink at me as I approached, my towering hardon lubed and ready. I hotdogged those colossal buns, teasing him as I marveled at how much of my dick still managed to show past the crack of his ass.

Then I leaned over, aimed myself at his hole, and pressed. And no matter what angle I took or how hard I thrust, it just wouldn’t go in.

“Relax,” I ordered.

“I am relaxed,” Gavin whined. “C’mon, fuck me!”

“I’m trying!”

After thirty seconds of increasing pressure, I became frustrated and just whipped my hips as fast as I could. I managed to stuff my head in his unrelenting hole, but it was the tightest fit I’d ever had. And Gavin, well, he screamed. And not in the sexy, mind-shattering orgasm way. It was the unsexy, ‘I’m in immeasurable pain’ kinda way.

“GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!

I stepped back, and my purple head popped out with an almost cartoonish sound. I didn’t see any blood, but I didn’t try to push my luck.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“I can tell you what’s wrong,” Gavin said, hoisting himself up so I could see his pendulous tits jostle with the sudden movement. “You’ve got a dickhead the size of my fist.”

He was exaggerating, surely, especially considering his fists had fattened up with the rest of him, but staring down at myself, I realized he wasn’t too far off. I was… big. Way bigger than I was three weeks ago. I was easily nine inches long and thick--thicker than any porn star I’d ever seen. My still-turgid shaft was as thick as my wrist, and the purple helmet might have been the size of a fist if not Gavin’s.

“Fuck,” Gavin breathed out. “You got big.”

“Yeah,” I offered, nervous he might have caught on to my supernatural male enhancement.

“It’s hot,” he said, and I breathed a short-lived sigh of relief. “But that’s not going up my hole. You’ll tear my fat ass in half!”

“Then, what are we gonna do?”

“Well…” Gavin trailed a playful finger from the tip of my shaft up to my stomach before finally pressing his palm into my chest. “Maybe I could give topping a try?”

Before I could reply, Gavin pushed, and I was sent toppling to the mattress. I didn’t even have time to protest before I was smothered in his bulk, his surprisingly strong arms pinning me down as his massive legs pulled mine up just enough for him to somehow scoot me into his lap. I could feel his hardon press into my cheeks, significantly smaller than mine but still a substantial tool, although much of his shaft had become swallowed by the ever-encroaching tide of his surging belly.

However, Gavin had figured out ways around his own anatomy that I wasn’t aware of. Releasing my arms, he hoisted his gut so it spilled onto my groin, then he grabbed my legs so they wrapped around his waist. Then I felt him shimmy himself ever so slightly to line himself up perfectly with my hole. The tiny movements made delicious ripples throughout his anatomy. Then he pushed down on my hips while he brought his up with consistent and insistent pressure.

It had been years since I’d bottomed, but somehow, Gavin slipped inside as though he’d been fucking me forever. It wasn’t without discomfort, but it was largely overshadowed by my complete surprise, followed by pleasure. Incredible pleasure. As he rocked himself in and out his gut would rub up and down my massive cock, like I was fucking his belly as Gavin was fucking me.

I'd thought that the sex I'd had over the past three weeks was the best sex of my life. I was wrong; THIS was the best sex I'd ever had. I wanted this feeling to last forever; sandwiched between sweaty slabs of flab while getting fucked and fucking at the same time. I watched Gavin's tits heave which each thrust as he stared at the head of my cock just peeking past his stomach and leaking pre-cum between us.

We didn't last long. Even though it had happened as easily as if we'd been doing it our entire lives, this was the first time our roles had truly reversed. I came first, cum spraying into the air like a fountain and splattering both my chest and Gavin's torso. My spasms then caused Gavin to grunt, then roar as he filled me with his load.

We sat there for a few moments just staring into each other’s eyes, panting, and smiling. After a minute, I felt his hips move, driving his still-hard cock into my abused hole so that some of his load spilled out. Then he did it again. And again. And again. And again, and I was still hard, and before I knew it we were already on our way to our second load of the evening. It wasn’t the last.

I didn’t know it then, but it was the last time my cock felt the inside of Gavin’s hole.

---

“Lick it—lick it you horse-dicked fuck,” Gavin teased. He did that a lot now. It had been just over a month since I made those wishes, and things kept… progressing. My cock was 11 inches long now and pissed jizz whenever I came. And Gavin, well, he’d kept getting bigger and more… aggressive in our lovemaking.

It was so fucking hot.

I was licking his armpits. Gavin hadn’t really showered in days—it was too much effort getting him up to take one. Instead, he’d call me over to give him a tongue bath, then I’d get turned on by his musk, he’d get turned on by my footlong erection, and we’d descend into carnal chaos once more.

“God, I never thought I’d have a boyfriend with a dick this big,” Gavin said, reaching down to stuff my hard-on into one of his sweaty folds. I moaned—it felt heavenly. It was a good thing that Gavin had gotten so big, otherwise there’d be nowhere for me to put this thing. But between his tits, his love handles, his thighs, his chins, or even his navel, Gavin had plenty of flesh for me to sink all 11 inches into. And even if his sweat hadn’t already, my constantly leaking pre ensured that no matter where it went, my dick was always well lubricated. 

I humped his bulk mindlessly as I licked the hairy bulge of fat that denoted the start of his armpit. This went on for a while, the wet sounds of our strange copulation filling a bedroom that increasingly emitted an odor that could be detected down the hall. 

Gavin was uncharacteristically quiet. Normally, his chiding was the backdrop to our lovemaking. But this time, he gently cupped my chin with a flabby palm and brought me face to jowly face.

“Babe,” Gavin said, all sincerity. He hadn’t called me that in weeks. “What’s happening to us?”

I sputtered. “Wha-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” he hefted a tit bigger than my head and let it fall with a wet slap, the impact sending ripples throughout his ocean of fat. “I don’t hate being this big. In fact, it’s kinda hot… but I remember a time when I definitely wouldn’t have thought that.” 

“Well, um-”

“And this thing, god,” he reached down to my crotch and extracted my cock from the loaf of love handle that I’d been fucking. “Dicks don’t just double in size over the course of a month.”

I squirmed uncomfortably in his grasp, and Gavin gave me a patronizing look before he brought my cock up between his tits. Then he squeezed them together and rubbed them up and down my shaft. My dickhead kept sinking into the folds of his many chins, my precum adding to the beads of sweat already present.

This had become a move for Gavin, something he’d bust out whenever I felt anxious or afraid. It was sexual comfort food, and I ate it up greedily.

“I… may have made a wish. A few wishes.” 

“You what?” 

“I wanted more sex!” I blurted out. “I wanted you to be hornier and to be confident in your size so we could have better sex.” 

Gavin’s expression didn’t change after my admission, nor did he change the pace of his titillating ministrations. “And this?” he asked, leaning down slightly to lick my slit.

“Oh, that was… I had three wishes, and I didn’t want to let one go to waste.” 

Gavin laughed. “Well, I’m glad you finally came clean with me, you dirty, dirty boy,” he said as he increased the pace of his tit job. “But it would have been nice if you’d maybe asked me first.” 

“I’m sorry…” I whined.

“Oh, not yet you aren’t,” he rumbled, “but you will be.”

Suddenly, Gavin’s tits fell away and my cock was left cold, head still jammed into one of the folds that defined his chin. Then, Gavin did something I wasn’t even sure he could still manage. In a surprisingly swift move, he righted himself, wrapped both his enormous arms around me, and bear-hugged me into his heaving chest. He grunted as he lifted me bodily from the bed—the exertion more likely caused by lifting himself than lifting me—then twirled as he slammed me back down. The frame collapsed under the immense force caused by such a huge body performing the wrestling-style maneuver.

At the time, I didn’t realize we’d destroyed our bed. I was seeing stars.

And flesh. Gavin was thankfully soft enough that it would yield around me even as I was body-slammed through the mattress. He didn’t cause any damage, but he did crush the wind out of me, and his malleable form filled in what few cracks between me and air remained. I was suffocating.

I panicked. I struggled, but he was so heavy, I could barely move. My arms just pushed into more fat, every pound I pushed would just be replaced by two more. I was drowning, drowning in everything I loved. I was scared. I was terrified. 

And I was harder than I’d ever been in my entire life. 

Everything started to fade. I could feel my weak limbs becoming even weaker, my feeble attempts at freedom becoming even more futile. A far-away voice that I couldn’t hear through the rumbling and rippling flesh told me to just give in, let it all go, to accept this perfect conclusion to everything. So I did.

And then Gavin heaved himself up, and I could breathe again. The first gulps of air—even as odiferous as they were—felt orgasmic. And as I hacked and coughed and wheezed, Gavin took my foot-long schlong and stuffed it inside his bosom once more. And then I came.

My wish had come with more than a few side effects. Besides being hornier than I’d ever been, I also came more than any human really should. The first blast hit Gavin in his many chins and soaked the two of us. The second managed to somehow miss Gavin’s entire upper body, only to gracefully arc through the air and splatter the bedside wall. The third, fourth, and fifth blasts mostly coated me in enough semen that I’d have looked freshly showered but for the off-white color. 

The remaining shots were gentle enough that Gavin grabbed my wildly firing hose, stuffed my head in his jowly maw, and sucked down the loads that wouldn’t have come out his nose had he tried to earlier. He gulped audibly. I liked to think I could even see his form swell from the amount of jizz I was still pumping straight into this blimp of a man, but I knew even my colossal loads were just a drop in the ocean of his enormity. 

My orgasms had also gotten longer in addition to being more voluminous. I lost count of how many times I convulsed, or how long Gavin lay draped on my lower torso sucking on my knob as it burbled out more cum after 30 seconds than I used to jizz in an entire night of sex. I flexed the head free, and the last of my load sprayed over Gavin’s fat fucking face.

I was dizzy. My head was swimming. I could hear Gavin say something, but it all seemed like nonsense. The last thing I remembered was a look of concern that something wasn’t right. Then I hit the mattress and let darkness overtake me.

---

I came to with a feeling of weightlessness. I was floating, higher than I’d ever been. My vision was filled with smoke and the pillar of my erection. It towered above me, a purple helmet shining in the dim light, an edifice to my constant arousal. I saw a metal ring near the base of my shaft, necessary now to keep me rigid. I remembered how Gavin called me his horse-dicked boyfriend, and how that had become almost literally true. 

Gavin. I rolled over and there he was, his immense form taking up our entire loveseat, his belly spilling over his lap and almost touching the floor. His love handles were pushed up by armrests, and what few specs of fabric not covered in his bulk were stained by his constant sweat. Wrappers and empty containers surrounded him like fish schooling around a whale. And the smell… even through the skunk-filled haze his pungent musk only made me harder. 

I flexed and squirted as much pre as I used to cum. The sound of it splattering on my chest finally grabbed Gavin’s attention. “Hey, you’re awake! Had me worried there for a second.”

I moaned and moved into a sitting position, my cock tumbling downward like a felled tree. It hit the floor with a meaty slap hard enough to hurt, and my moan suddenly became one of pain as well as displacement.

“Careful babe, you’re going to hurt yourself! You gotta keep both hands on that thing.” 

I took Gavin’s advice. It was like holding a baseball bat, but heavier, hotter, and somehow, even harder. Forcing myself to stand, it felt like I’d strapped a 20-pound weight to my crotch. Only then did I notice my balls had also expanded to the size of cantaloupes hanging in a sac as big as a small grocery bag. 

“Aw, looks like you need another milking,” Gavin said. “Come over here and let me help with that.”

I waddled over, carefully ensuring my gait didn’t result in the pendulum of my balls striking my thighs too harshly. In the smoky gloom, however, I misjudged my distance to Gavin’s jutting stomach. My cock sunk in several inches, my pre-cum mixing with his sweat to create both a unique aroma and a delectable lubricant. I thrust a few times, and Gavin merely chuckled as I penetrated him.

“Yeah, you need a hand,” Gavin mumbled as he gripped my shaft in a bear hug. I couldn’t tell what part of him he was pushing my dick into, but it didn’t matter; it felt soft and warm and it covered more of my cock than anything I’d felt since waking up. I thrust into his yielding girth a few times and could already feel myself approaching the point of no return.

“Come on babe, just let it out,” Gavin chided, almost like he was speaking to a child, but I still felt the effect as though it were an order. I came, jetting out enough semen for it to sound like a garden hose. For a moment, the stink of weed, BO, and days of accumulated garbage disappeared behind a cloud of sex. I collapsed atop Gavin, further pressing my cock into his flesh. I could feel it pulse as I jerked and spasmed, our embrace filling with semen that sluiced off in rivulets towards a growing puddle. 

I clung to him for several minutes as I felt myself drain. Even when the flow tapered off, I still felt hard. 

“That’s a good boy,” Gavin leaned down to give my cockhead a lick. “But now it’s my turn. Get in there, slut.” 

I was still disoriented from yet another minutes-long orgasm to realize what Gavin meant. He reached up to a handle hanging from the ceiling, and I suddenly felt his bulk shift upwards, nearly lifting me off the ground. I slid off him as he pulled again, and once I’d found my footing I realized that he was manipulating a pulley that attached to a harness wrapped around his gut. 

Actually, it was more like a hammock his belly merely rested upon. Still too small to gather it fully with the leading edge spilling over like a bread pan overfilled with dough, but it raised his anatomy enough for me to peer underneath at what remained of Gavin’s genitals.

His balls were actually surprisingly present. Although nowhere near as large as mine, they hung in a sack just as capacious--a scrotum stretched beyond most men by thighs larger than most tree trunks. But it was his cock I found most fascinating, reduced to a needy nub that twitched as it experienced fresh air for the first time in hours. Maybe days.

Fresh air was perhaps an overstatement. Gavin’s musk was at its strongest as I descended to my knees, my horse dick uncomfortably angled to the side. I ignored the discomfort—my boyfriend was needy, and it wasn’t often that he’d put the effort into hoisting himself up for me these days.

Sucking Gavin off was a two-person job. Gavin used the pulley-hammock to lift his gut, and I’d have to push into his pubic mound to reveal as much of his cock as I could. Gavin still had a pretty big dick underneath his bulging fupa, but getting to it required an almost extreme effort. 

I pushed as hard as I could, revealing a few inches of shaft, and then dove down on his leaky cockhead with eager lips. From above, I heard a moan, and I was treated to a splash of Gavin’s pre. It wasn’t as much as mine, but it still tasted like sweet ambrosia. 

I licked. I sucked. I pushed and grabbed and tugged at flesh that kept encroaching even as I pleasured this writhing mountain, almost as though his body were trying to stop me. But I persisted, keeping his pounds at bay as I brought him to a shuddering orgasm that felt more like an earthquake. 

And as usual, Gavin’s hand slipped, and I was buried underneath his gut. I kept sucking and slurping, gobbling down as much cum as I could while I once again struggled to breathe. I knew that this game would one day result in my end. That one day Gavin would simply become too large to lift himself before I ran out of breath. 

Thankfully, that day wasn’t today. I felt air return as Gavin lifted his gut with muscles that would put a power lifter to shame if they could ever see past the blubber. Our regular sessions were workouts for both of us, although our excessive intake meant that it hardly showed. Even I was starting to soften from the constant feeding of Gavin’s cum. 

I idly thought about working out and becoming strong enough to lift Gavin’s gut in one hand and his pubic fat in the other. The idea had some appeal, but then I felt a squirt of pre erupt from my distant cockhead and knew that it was time for yet another milking. Why even bother with exercise when there was so much sex to be had? 

I never did see the monkey’s paw again. Not that I was looking particularly hard, mind. Gavin and I were mostly focused on getting our rocks off, and with the amount of garbage that had piled up, it was basically impossible to find anything in our apartment anymore. Except each other, of course. At our respective sizes, we were impossible to miss.

[charliegyrth]

Big Henry - 1 of 2

My Accidental One-Night Stand

Before Henry, all my boyfriends had been twinks. They were all shorter than me by at least three inches. They had tight, lean bodies with zero body hair. That was my type. Even if their personalities weren’t great, and most of them weren’t, I knew what I wanted in a man.

That all changed last March when I went to meet my friends Jace and Cody at a new gay bar downtown. I’d just broken up with my last boyfriend (he cheated), so I needed a one-night stand to distract me. Jace and Cody were vapid and a bit self-centered, but they could always cheer me up. Plus, they were both hot and unavailable (dating each other), which made them good wingmen.

The place was called Neon. It had this whole 80s aesthetic, like I was walking into a retro music video. There were neon strobe lights, of course, plus an overworked fog machine that shrouded the dance floor. Synth music blared throughout the building.

It sounds like a cool place, but I was not comfortable there. I had dressed the part, with a neon-pink tank top and black shorts, but I really didn’t feel like I belonged. I didn’t know why. I was usually so comfortable in bars, but this one felt like some exclusive club that I wasn’t invited to.

I got a beer and waited at a raised table in the corner until my friends arrived. They were supposed to meet me there at eleven thirty, but it was already well past midnight when Cody sent me a four-word text: “Can’t make it. Sorry.”

I considered leaving, but then one of my favorite Whitney Houston songs popped on. I decided to join the dance floor, just for this one song, and then I’d leave.

It wasn’t a slow song, so I felt comfortable dancing by myself. I noticed that most of the other guys on the dance floor were already coupled up. The fog shrouded everything up to my shoulders, so all I could see were the moving shapes of bodies underneath heads poking out of the fog. Whoever programmed the fog machine had cranked it up way too high.

I danced toward a hot blond guy who looked alone, but he walked off the dance floor before I could reach him.

Then I noticed someone staring at me from across the room. I could only see him from the shoulders up, but I was drawn to him instantly. He had buzzed brown hair and a square jaw. His skin had a healthy tan, making his pale blue eyes look even paler.

I danced through the crowd until I reached him. He was barely dancing, just swaying casually. As I got closer, I realized that he was taller than I thought. His face was a bit harder and more masculine than what I was used to. And his chin had a healthy dusting of scruff.

He was not the kind of guy I usually went for, but there was something about those pale, hungry eyes that drew me closer. It was like he knew I would come to him.

And I did. When I reached him, we both smiled. Neither of us said anything. I danced as close as I could without actually touching him, and he continued his slow sway. I wished I could see his body, but judging by his face, I knew that he must’ve been a real muscle hunk. He just had that aura.

I realized that maybe this was exactly what I needed. No more twinks for me. Tonight, I was going to give in to this dom heartthrob.

We danced for a bit, still not introducing ourselves, and then the music changed to a slow Madonna song. That was when he stepped closer and wrapped me in his arms. His eyes still locked on mine, he pulled me into him, and I felt my body sink into his.

He was fat.

No, not just fat. He was obese. His belly felt squishy against my skin, and even though his dancing was still slow and determined, I could feel the ripples that each movement sent throughout his fat. He held me tight, as if he was claiming me as his.

I didn’t know what to do with my arms, so I wrapped them around his waist. He was so wide that my hands wouldn’t even meet on his back, and my elbows were practically resting on his wide, wobbly love handles.

I couldn’t believe it. His face looked so normal. He didn’t have any jowls or extra chins. But below the fog line, he was an absolute blob.

I thought about leaving, but the more he held me, the more I loved the feeling of pressing against his fat. This man was substantial in every way. His size gave him a sort of gravity that pulled me closer, and I felt so comfortable in his soft warmth.

He growled into my ear, “I’m Henry.”

“Steven,” I said.

“Wanna go back to my place?”

I opened my mouth to say no, but instead, I kissed him. I don’t know what came over me. One second, I was about to flee, and the next, my tongue was massaging his. I could taste the tomato-y remnants of some sort of pasta dish on his mouth. He must’ve just eaten.

That should’ve disgusted me. The way his hanging moobs squished against my chest… that should’ve disgusted me, too. Everything about this fat slob was the polar opposite of attractive, and yet…

I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.

When the kiss was over, Henry took my hand and guided me toward the exit. My heart pounded with excitement.

***

Henry took me back to his place. He treated me the same way I’d treated hundreds of twinks. Forceful. Determined. Statements instead of questions.

We didn’t talk much on the Uber ride. We sat in the backseat, and he was purposely spreading out, giving me very little room for myself. He looked over at me, smiling. About halfway through the ride, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his belly.

I didn’t pull away.

“Rub it if you want.”

“I, uh…” I did what he asked. I felt the softness at the top of his belly.

“Don’t be shy, Steven. I know an encourager when I see one.”

This was my chance to admit that there’d been a misunderstanding. I wasn’t into guys like him. “I’m, um, not an encourager.” (I didn’t stop rubbing his belly, though.)

“Oh,” he said. “Got it. That’s good to know.”

A few minutes later, he took me into his apartment. It was a nice place, very modern-looking. Metallic countertops and sleek, minimalist furniture. Aside from some empty pizza boxes on the coffee table, everything was orderly and clean.

I stood in the living room, not quite sure what to do.

He lumbered over, his blue eyes hungry, and kissed me again. Then he backed away so I could watch him unbutton his shirt.

My eyes widened as his bare belly surged out. Now that it wasn’t packed inside his shirt, it was free to hang there. I couldn’t look away.

“See these?” He traced his fingers along matching stretchmarks on either side of his belly button. “These are from my last encourager. Bill.”

“Uh huh.”

Then he grabbed his moobs and bounced them in his palms. “These are mostly from Mike, the guy I was dating when I first started gaining. And these…” He slid his hands seductively over his love handles. “These really grew when I was with Jeff. I like to track my progress based on the guys who help me.”

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him.

“And what will my new friend Steven help me with?”

I didn’t know what to say. Every word coming from Henry’s mouth was so hot, but I didn’t get why. This wasn’t my thing.

He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and stripped it off. Then he sized me up, feeling my chest, my sides, my waist. “You’re new at this, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well trust me. I think…” He squeezed my nipples. “Your moobs’ll come in first. I’d bet money on it.”

I wanted to tell him that this was a big misunderstanding. A series of misunderstandings, really. First, it was when I approached him without seeing his massive body. Then it was me saying that I wasn’t an encourager. He thought I meant that I was a gainer, too. And I wasn’t. At all.

But I couldn’t say that. I was already rock hard, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

He rubbed my erection through my pants. “Hmm. That really turned you on, huh? Hearing about your future tits.”

Then he took off his pants, revealing a thick cock poking out of his fat pad. In his thin days, it must’ve been enormous. He stood there, making sure I saw him, all of him, and then he lumbered into the bedroom.

No words. He expected me to follow him. Of course I did.

He bent over to dig through his end table, giving me a perfect view of his saggy, hairy ass. Then he pulled out a tray of small chocolate cakes. They were store-bought but already unwrapped. He laid them down on the bed.

He slid onto the bed himself, lying on his back, ready for me to top him. Good. Despite his size, he wanted me in control. That’s what I wanted, too.

But when I tried to spread his legs, he grumbled, “Stop.” He grabbed my arms and pulled me onto his stomach. I was literally sitting on his gut, careful not to push down too hard.

Could he handle all my weight? I guess he could.

“Lube,” he ordered.

The bottle was sitting on the nightstand, just within reach. I grabbed it and he snatched it out of my grasp. Then he slicked up his hands and reached under me until he found my hole. With his eyes locked on me, he drew circles around my rim, his fingers entering deeper and deeper until I was wide-open and ready.

His cock was at full attention just behind me. “Sit,” he ordered.

While he was lying on his back, his fat spilling in all directions, he wanted me to ride him. This was not what I’d expected. I was a big, muscular guy. I wasn’t some lightweight twink who could cowboy his way through sex. But that was what Henry wanted.

Trying to balance, I rose up a bit and used one hand to guide him into me. My hole was puckered and ready. He slid in.

“Bounce,” he ordered.

So I did. This was a new position for me, but I was surprisingly natural at it. I started slow, built a rhythm, and made him moan.

As I lost myself in the movement, Henry grabbed a chocolate cake from the bed and stuffed it into his mouth. He was messy. Crumbs fell down his cheeks. Then he grabbed another.

This continued for a wonderfully long time. I rode and he ate. Sometimes he’d buck his hips a little, forcing me to speed up, but mostly he let me do all the work as he ate.

He gave no attention to my own cock, but I could feel it throb. Watching him eat, watching his body wobble under me… That was all I needed.

“Feed,” he mumbled.

I grabbed a cake, allowing him to take over the thrusting, and I pushed it into his mouth. He swallowed in one bite, really jiggling as he set a new rhythm.

“Again,” he ordered.

This continued, cake after cake, as he rammed into me from below.

“Nipples,” he demanded

I started tweaking his nipples while I rode him. There was so much to pull. I’d never felt actual breasts before, how pliant they were, how freaking sexy.

He shoved another cake into his mouth, moaning a little.

He jiggled under me as I bounced on top of him, the backs of my legs slapping loudly against his fat.

The pleasure in my ass was intensifying. A little painful, a little too much, but absolutely wonderful.

Caught up in the moment, I took a cake and shoved it into his mouth even though he was still swallowing the last one. I knew that was what he wanted.

I needed to steady my balance. My hands grabbed the rolls at his sides (not his love handles, but the flab just above).

My eyes closed and I heard him swallow.

When I opened them, Henry’s face was smeared with chocolate and he was stuffing in another cake.

He hadn’t even touched my dick, but I was so close to cumming.

He shoved two more cakes into his mouth at the same time, just as his dick jabbed into my pleasure zone.

My own dick twitched. It was already dripping precum. So freaking close to a hands-free climax.

I tried to slow down so I wouldn’t cum, but Henry bucked his hips just once and that was all it took.

A jet of my juices shot out of me, splattering him on his chest and face. A glob landed on the edge of his chocolate-stained mouth and he licked it up.

My face flushed with embarrassment until I saw his cheeky smile. He pulled out of me.

I fell onto the bed, spent. So that’s what it’s like to fuck an obese person. Jesus.

All my muscles relaxed. I was done. But Henry wasn’t.

He grunted as he sat up. His belly was in the way, so he couldn’t sit straight up. Instead, he pushed himself to the side, rolled over, and then rose out of bed.

He grabbed my hips forcefully and angled me onto my stomach. Then, standing over me, he shoved his dick into my still-wide-open hole, ready to finish what he started.

I tried to buck against him, but he held me still. He wanted to do the rest himself.

With his hands clamped onto my hips, he thrust inside me, over and over, and my ass once again lit up in pleasure.

“Eat,” he demanded.

Without thinking, I grabbed one of the remaining cakes and took a bite. Even though it was that store-bought, fake-sugar taste, in the moment, it tasted incredible. Just pure joy in my mouth.

My chewing wasn’t fast enough for him, though, so he reached one hand around and pushed the rest of it against my mouth.

I had no choice but to gulp it down.

“Again,” he demanded.

He kept pounding into me. My dick was fully hard again. I was surging with so much pleasure—in my mouth, in my hole—that my brain didn’t register that our roles had switched, that I was being fed.

“Eat,” he ordered again.

I did.

I could barely handle all this stimulation, but I fumbled my arm to the side and grab one more cake.

As I shoved the entire thing into my mouth, I could feel him erupt inside me.

His belly flopped hard against my back and I had to grab onto the sheets to steady myself.

Then he pulled out and fell back onto the bed next to me.

I was messy, exhausted, and blissful. We both were.

I could feel the cum leak out of my hole, adding to the mess that already surrounded us.

This was the best sex of my life. And as my pulse slowed back to normal, that’s when I realized that he had fed me. That I had eaten just as many cakes as he had.

He smiled at me. His mouth was stained with chocolate, and I knew that mine was too.

Then he took my hand and placed it on his stomach. “Rub,” he said.

I did.

Read Part 2 tomorrow.

[charliegyrth]

Adiposexual - Part 3 of 5

Seth and I Finally Talk About It

Read Part 2 here.

That night, our time on the couch felt different. I was finally aware that I was really fat instead of fake-fat, and Seth had finally brought up the topic.

We needed to talk about it.

Things started like they always did. Seth picked a boring-ass movie and I brought out a bunch of snacks for myself.

I ate and he watched me.

I moaned and rubbed my belly. He hid his erection.

Business as usual.

Actually, I sped through my snacks extra fast this time. Finished the entire box of brownies in thirty minutes. Even Seth seemed surprised.

Then I grabbed the remote from the table and paused the movie. “Seth, can I ask you something?”

“Uh huh.”

“What does adiposexual mean?”

“You… What?”

“Adiposexual. Have you ever heard that word before?”

“Yeah. I mean, definitely.”

“And how would you define it?”

“It’s, um… Why are you asking?”

“Just humor me, okay?” I licked the edge of my mouth. I had a streak of chocolate there.

He angled his body toward me and adjusted the blanket on his lap. “I actually discovered this word recently. It’s a sexual orientation. It’s like, uh, when someone is turned on by fat.”

“And it’s common, right?” I scooted a little closer, making sure that my shirt was riding up a little. “A lot of people feel this way?”

“Not really. A lot of people have a preference for fat. Like, if you’re gay or you’re straight and you have a specific body type that turns you on.”

“How’s that any different?”

He took a deep breath. This was it. He was finally opening up to me. “My whole life, I didn’t really have a label for myself. I wasn’t really interested in dating or sex or any of that. I sort of assumed that I was asexual, and I was okay with that. Sure, I felt like I was missing out sometimes. Especially on the nights when you, um, brought a date home. I don’t know if you realize this, but our walls are pretty thin.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It always sounded like you were having fun. And I wanted that, even if I didn’t really want to… you know, do what you were doing. Anyway, I get turned on sometimes. A lot, actually. When I see bigger people, men or women. Or especially when I run into someone and notice that they’ve… you know, gained weight.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve been part of some ace chatrooms, and I noticed some people talking about adiposexuality. They were talking about how they don’t really feel sexual attraction except when it comes to fat and gaining, and I related to everything they were saying. I don’t really like labels, but I think this label fits me, and, um… You’ve probably noticed that I’ve been acting different around you lately.”

“A little,” I said.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you—?”

“Because I’ve been encouraging you,” he said. “You haven’t noticed, but for a while now, I’ve been giving you extra food. And cooking with more butter and stuff. And refilling all your snack boxes when you run out. I saw you getting fatter, and it drove me crazy, so I sort of… sped things along. I am so, so sorry.”

I didn’t know about the extra butter. And I definitely didn’t know (though I should’ve) that he’d been refilling my snacks. No wonder the boxes lasted so long. But still, this wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t be sorry. I did this to myself. On purpose.”

He choked on his own breath. “Are you a gainer?”

“I guess I am. Kind of by accident at first, but yeah.”

“And you like how you’re changing?”

No. I didn’t. But I wasn’t going to say that. “I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

I took a chance and placed my hand on his thigh. He didn’t pull away.

“If you’re, you know, adiposexual, are you interested in having sex, or… not?”

“I’ve thought about that,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes looking away. “I’m interested in a lot of things, I guess. Feeding. Belly worship. And yeah, sex, too. I’m, uh, I’m still a virgin, though.”

This was a lot to process, but I was so glad that he was being honest with me.

“And one more question. Would you be interested in trying some of those things with me?”

I meant sex specifically. I wasn’t interested in feeding or belly worship (whatever that was).

He looked me right in the eyes. “Yes.”

***

Neither of us paid attention to the rest of the movie. Now that everything was out in the open, I felt comfortable enough to grab his hand and place it on my belly. The next step was up to him.

He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t pull away, but he wasn’t brave enough to move. Then slowly, he started rubbing circles on my bloated stomach.

That felt surprisingly good. Who knew, right?

Then, a bit braver, his hands started to explore. He ran his fingers through the crease across my belly button (something I didn’t have a week ago). He gripped onto my rolls and squeezed them with his fingers. It felt a little exploratory but also really erotic.

I leaned back with my eyes closed, enjoying his touch. I only opened them again when he pulled away.

“The… uh, movie’s done,” he mumbled.

I saw credits rolling across the screen. I looked into his handsome face. His blue eyes seemed so nervous.

“No pressure,” I said, “but would you like to come into my room for a bit?”

That scared him. “I don’t think so.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I assured him. “Just… whatever you want.”

He gulped. “Okay. I’ll meet you in there.”

I rushed into my room (semi-hard) and placed my condoms and lube on the end table. Just in case. I figured he wasn’t ready for anything yet, but… maybe…

Then I stretched out on my bed and waited. I took off my shirt, letting my new belly hang out.

A few minutes later, Seth walked in holding two bags of something.

“What did you bring?”

He smiled at me as he climbed into bed. He glanced over at the lube on the table, and his smile disappeared.

“Don’t worry about that,” I assured him. “I’m down for whatever you want.”

That seemed to reassure him. Curled up next to me, he opened the bags, revealing at least six boxes of those powdered donuts that he first saw me eating. Outside of that one pack, I hadn’t eaten a single donut. All the other snacks were so much better. I didn’t tell him that, though.

His eyes locked on me, he opened the first box. “Comfortable?”

I sat up a little.

He wiped the hair out of my face, then ran his thumb across my lips. “Open, please.”

God, I couldn’t fit any more food inside me. But I did what he said.

With one hand on the side of my face, he raised the other to my mouth. He pressed the donut against my lips, rubbing off some of the sugar, and waited for me to take it.

I did.

“Tastes good, huh?”

And honestly, it did. I don’t know why I hated the taste before. The sugar melted onto my tongue. He waited for me to swallow the first bite and then pressed again. I tore the rest from his hand and chewed.

Then he licked the sugar off my lips and kissed me.

I was not expecting that.

“Would you like another?”

To answer him, I opened my mouth. I was too horny to feel full.

He pressed a second donut to my lips and I ate it in one bite. I barely chewed.

“Ooh. Someone’s hungry.” He fed me another. “You know that each one of these will go straight to your belly.” He climbed on top of me and emptied the rest of the donuts onto my stomach. “Your big, soft belly. Every bite makes it get bigger, Wes.”

He started massaging my stomach, gently at first but more forcefully as he pressed donut after donut against my mouth.

I moaned. When I ate for him before, I was performing for him. The moans were (mostly) fake. Now, I couldn’t hold them back.

With him straddling me, I felt pain in my stomach again. But I liked it now. I liked the throb.

Then he stopped feeding me, and I was filled with disappointment. “Uh oh,” he said. “Fatty finished all his donuts.” He reached into the bag, and I expected him to bring out another box. Instead, he pulled out a liter of half-and-half. “Thirsty?”

“Uh huh.”

I opened my mouth and he poured in the milk. Some of it trickled down my chin, but I was able to swallow most of it.

“Good boy. Ready for Round Two?”

Before I could answer, he opened the next box of donuts and shoved one into my open mouth. I choked a little.

“Should we slow down?” he asked.

“No,” I mumbled as I swallowed.

“Good.” He continued feeding me. I couldn’t get a handle on his rhythm. Sometimes he sped up. Sometimes he slowed down. Sometimes he met my mouth with a kiss.

I don’t know how long this lasted. It felt like forever. And honestly, it felt like sex, like I was connected to him on such a deep level. My cock throbbed. So did my stomach.

And eventually, all the donuts and milk were gone.

Seth placed both hands on my stomach. “You’re full?” he asked. He rubbed gently.

“Uh huh.”

“Stuffed?” He squeezed a little.

“Uh huh.”

God, I was so hard. All he needed was to touch me down there and I’d climax in seconds.

“Wes,” he whispered. “You’re getting so fat.”

And I came. My whole body trembled, and I just gave in, shooting into my boxers. At no point did either of us touch me down there.

Seth climbed off me, a bit surprised. “You…”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

He kissed me once more and left the room. I didn’t feel embarrassed. I was too satisfied.

Read Part 4 here. You can find all my stories here.

[thewalkingalive19]

Absolutely love this feeding scene

[thewalkingalive19]

A Show and Dinner at The Trough Pt.1: Appetizers for Chubby Boys

Alex was excited to be here with his friend and roommate, Jesse. The two had come to the bear bar for the first time since Alex came out to Jesse only a few weeks ago. Now in their Senior year of college, they had grown closer and closer after they moved into their frat house and bunked together in one of the bigger rooms of the spacious on-campus building. The two bonded over shared interests in movies and gaming. But things went to the next level when Jesse brought home some weed gummies in the middle of their Junior year on the day of their legalization. The gummies had activated something in the two of them, a kind of shared peace disrupted only by the intense hunger they felt as the gummies kicked in.

“Is this normal?” Alex asked Jesse as he heard his friend’s stomach gurgle. The other young man didn’t know and responded as such, getting up as he did to grab whatever food he could find in their shared bedroom. Jesse, now loaded with chips, pretzels, and sour cream to dip both in, went to sit next to Alex on his bed, leaving only enough space between them for the snacks he had just collected.

Alex had experienced hunger like this before, induced by the hypnosis tracks he had discovered online in the early days of discovering his gainer fetish. He had enjoyed the fantasy of giving himself over to some anonymous hypnotist who would force him to go beyond his normal stomach capacity and simultaneously emphasize the erotic nature of the loss of control. What started as a fantasy somehow became a reality, though, through repeated listens to a carefully curated playlist of hypno gainer files that really did put him into a trance. He would awaken to empty food containers strewn around his growing body and a cum stain when he submitted himself to trance. This started towards the end of High School as he was coming to terms with his sexuality that was becoming more and more focused on gaining weight and hypnosis. When he went to college and started living with Jesse, with whom he was friendly acquainted during high school, he listened to the files less frequently given the state he awoke in, only fitting sessions in when he knew Jesse would be gone for a few days.

Despite the decrease in gainer hypno sessions, Alex grew prodigiously over the course of his college career, arriving here at the end of his Senior year at just over 300 pounds of flabby flesh. It centered in his rotund belly with his legs and arms still looking relatively thin. But Alex could detect a fullness beginning to extend from his torso to his upper thighs and arms, and perhaps even more enticingly, to his fat pad and double chin. This was finally the growth he wanted to experience for himself after watching so many fatties grow in these areas on his private twitter profile. When Jesse would leave for a few hours, Alex would often strip, munch unthinkingly on snacks, and fondle his fat pad, moobs, and chunky belly until he came all over himself. Then he’d clean up the cum that splattered onto his underbelly with his snacks before consuming them, now saltier and with more protein.

Jesse couldn’t help but notice Alex’s growth and, though he wasn’t malicious about his friend’s fattening body, he did tease his obese friend. At least he did until the weed gummies. The gummies quickly became part of their routine, since they found watching movies and playing games more fulfilling and enjoyable when they were high. The insatiable hunger was a desired effect for Alex, but for Jesse it was just an unintended side effect. Jesse knew he was eating more when he got high but with his chubby friend sitting next to him and eating more every time they got high together, he never really considered how much he was growing. Alex used the gummies to propel himself past a plateau he had hit without the use of his gainer hypno files, while Jesse thoughtlessly piled on more than a few pounds. The two entered their Senior year as literally big men on campus.

They were inseparable, their friendship growing as they did from their hours of getting high, watching movies, and eating so, so much. There were rumors within the frat house that they were a couple. Alex fucking wished. Outside of their genuine friendship, there was also the matter of Jesse’s recent growth, something Alex was delighted to see hadn’t disappeared over the summer break. He sprung a boner when Jesse walked back into their shared room bigger than he had left it, a decidedly paunchy stomach now sticking out over his waist. And then there was the weed, which had an additional effect for Alex of making him incredibly horny.

He often had to jerk off after he and Jesse had gotten high and munched themselves into a food coma, waking up from his stupor hard and horny. In these moments he’d look over at Jesse’s sleeping form, his belly peeking out from under his ever-tighter shirts, his moobs starting to cone out from his previously flat torso. Jesse would occasionally be drooling, too, something Alex had come to associate with the mindlessness he experienced under trance and had become a kink unto itself for him. Alex would sometimes snap a picture if he found his friend to be particularly bloated, or if he had a thick river of drool sliding down his face before pooling on his growing belly. Then Alex would go to their shared bathroom and jerk one out before going back to bed.

So if the weed had brought them closer together, made Alex horny by mixing all of his kinks together and infecting his friend with them, and begun to turn Jesse into the man of his dreams, it was a surprise that it wasn’t until several weeks into the last semester of their college experience that Alex finally admitted to Jesse that he was gay, a gainer, and into hypnosis. It happened while they were particularly high one Saturday night in the deep midwinter. There was nowhere to go, no parties happening in the frat house, and everything seemed quieter, more private, because of the dampening snow that laid across the campus and the pleasant glow streaming in their darkened room from the orange lights outside. Their movie had finished hours ago but the two hadn’t put another on or started up their PS5, opting instead to continue grazing on their snacks and chatting with the kind of unthinking ease that only long, true friendships can engender.

Somehow the topic turned to self-soothing strategies, something Jesse thought about a lot given his psychology major and plans to become a therapist after graduating. He had noticed a few Alex did and asked him about them. “Why do you rub your belly like that so much? What feels good about that?” Jesse wasn’t being accusative, and Alex knew about his interests in these almost unconscious things people did to make themselves feel more comfortable in anxiety-inducing scenarios, so he answered honestly.

“I guess I just like feeling it. It’s big and round and soft and I like that, so I guess I just like to feel it sometimes.” He was doing it now, though his weed addled mind couldn’t discern if Jesse’s question had prompted it or if he was doing it before Jesse asked him about it. He knew being around the man he had developed an intense crush on while he was high and therefore horny did make him anxious, and in his intoxicated state decided it was a good time to get at least some of that off his chest. So he told Jesse about his hypnosis enhanced gainer fetish and its implications for his romantic partner preferences.

Jesse took it surprisingly well. Perhaps the weed was to thank for that too. Who knew if he would even remember the revelation the next day, Alex mused as he rubbed his belly while Jesse began to snore next to him. Their conversation had gotten more intense after Alex confessed to Jesse everything but his infatuation with his big (but still smaller) roommate, with Jesse’s excited curiosity first leading to a burst of questions before the man succumbed to the kind of deep sleep that could only befall the high and stuffed. Alex fought against the same impulse, recognizing it for what it was. He wanted to live in this moment where his roommate, his crush, felt comfortable enough following what was honestly several shocking revelations about his roommate and friend to slip into unconsciousness next to him. Unconsciousness and a lack of control was crucial to Alex’s fetishes, but Jesse felt completely safe in his company. Alex vowed to never break that trust.

This vow meant that, when Jesse asked Alex if he would hypnotize the curious psychology major, he had to refuse. The question itself revealed that, despite not mentioning it in the days since Alex’s confession Jesse did remember Alex’s discussion of hypnosis and what it did for him. To Alex, who had begun rubbing his belly once again, this meant that Jesse was warning him. I know what you’re into, and I know that you could be into that with me, the question seemed to declare. Alex, sober and anxious, could only stutter about not really knowing how to induce a trance and not feeling comfortable trying on his friend. Too much to lose, he thought. Jesse seemed disappointed but let it go.

The good news was that nothing else had changed. Alex and Jesse still got high almost every night, still crammed food down their gullets as they did so, and still remained close friends. They had settled back into their easy friendship after a quick bump in the road. It was only a month later when Jesse asked Alex a fateful question that Alex realized his friend hadn’t let the topic of hypnosis go.

“You wanna go see this hypnosis show?” Jesse asked Alex while they were on the come up of their latest high. Alex nearly died, but he collected himself and responded as nonchalantly as he could manage.

“What kind of show?”

“You know, hypnosis. Don’t think I forgot about your little kink. I stumbled across a hypnotist named The Big Mezmer who is doing a show at a bar a few towns over. I figured you’d want to see someone put on a more, uh, adult show than what the student union would allow.”

Jesse really had remembered everything. During Alex’s confession, Jesse had asked if Alex’s fetish was why he had dragged his friend to the tame hypnosis shows they always put on for incoming freshmen. Alex responded with most of the truth. Yes, that was why he wanted to go to those shows, but he was really hoping Jesse would fall under the hypnotist’s spell and fill Alex’s spank bank for another few years. It had never worked though. Now Jesse was suggesting a much more adult show by a more professional hypnotist. Did he know Alex’s secret desires? Did Alex have to refuse this perfect opportunity to preserve his friendship? Alex had to know.

“I’d be down, but why do you want to go? Do you have something to tell me?” Alex forced himself to laugh at the end of his last question to make it seem like a joke when it was really an expression of his deep desire to share his kink with his best friend.

“Haha, no.” Jesse responded, looking away. “I just started to research hypnosis since you told me about your, um, interests and I want to see it in real life. It could be a great place to do some real-world observations and give me some ideas for my upcoming Master’s degree thesis.”

Ah, strictly business, then. Not the worst possible answer for Jesse to give, but Alex was nevertheless disappointed. If Jesse had only confessed that he too had gotten into hypnosis and wanted to go up on stage, Alex might have died right then and there. But Jesse wanted to watch, so there was no chance he’d fall under the hypnotist’s spell. Nevertheless, it did seem like a good opportunity for them to visit a bar together for the first time in a while and for Alex to maybe share more about his “interests.” Besides, if Jesse somehow succumbed to the hypnosis Alex could enjoy it knowing it was Jesse’s idea and Alex wouldn’t be potentially sacrificing his friendship by going further than Jesse was comfortable with. Ah, but that was a dream, it had no chance of actually happening. Right?

What was this place, Alex thought, as they drove up to the bar where The Big Mezmer was to perform that night. It was called The Trough, and there was a big cartoon pig dressed as a chef adorning the sign Alex only noticed as they got out of the car and walked toward the bar. What the fuck? Was there something more happening here?

Alex turned to Jesse, whose new fat around his midsection jiggled in the most delightful way as they walked up to the door, and was about to ask him what was going on when he saw Jesse pause midstep to let a much larger man go through the door first. He was wide all over, his tree trunk legs tapering to big feet in big sneakers. His belly hanging over the waist of his jeans, which were held up by suspenders struggling against gravity and the man’s corpulent body. His shirt was about a size too small, so it clung to his wide gut, huge love handles, and, most notably, his moobs that had clung to his shirt and created a crease across his torso as they hung over the top of his belly. His arms were spread far from his body by his underarm fat wrapping around from his moobs to his back, which itself curved in an S shape before his fat butt jutted back out in a mix of cellulite and what Alex could tell from his many dives into gainer porn were the kinds of strong ass muscles developed from carrying around such a large body.

The man turned his head, itself encased in some discernable level of fat and held aloft by a neck covered in beautiful soft flesh that Alex just wanted to caress. “Hi boys! Here for the show?” His voice was thick like butter but featured none of the messy sibilance that can come from vocal cords and jaws surrounded by fat. Alex could only stare and nod slowly, but Jesse responded in his typical jovial fashion. “Yeah! It’s our first show like this and we can’t wait to see what the hypnotist can do.”

“Well then, boys, we’ll just have to put on a good show for you, won’t we? I’m Dan, but you can call me The Big Mezmer, at least during the show.”

Alex’s jaw dropped. This beautiful boulder of a man was the hypnotist they were here to see? Jesse looked at Alex’s expression and smiled meaningfully. If Alex weren’t a bundle of anxiety and horniness he might have noticed this smile and everything might have ended up differently. But he didn’t, he just mumbled something about being excited for the show and let the rotund man go ahead of them. Once the hypnotist entered the bar, he pointed and smiled at the bartender, himself a man of size whose muscular physique was hidden under a thick layer of fat. “Sup, buddy!” the bartender shouted back. Was this a regular show? How had Jesse found it anyways?

Alex mindlessly followed Jesse, who went up to the bar and sat near the bartender. Seeing that Alex was in no shape to talk in that moment, Jesse ordered a cocktail for the both of them and started chatting with the bartender. His name was Sam, it turned out, and he had been a college professor at the school Alex and Jesse were attending before the pandemic hit and shifted his priorities. Sam eventually quit his teaching job to open this bar since nobody else in the area was catering to what he called his “patrons.” This comment spurred Alex to look around the room at the gathering crowd for the first time.

They were all fat! In every shape and size he’d seen in his online perusals of gainer sites and social media, the men, and they were all men, sat in big chairs at big tables, with big portions of food being delivered by big waiters through a big door to the kitchen, where Alex could only assume a big chef, perhaps even piggish as the sign outside suggested, cooked big meals for the big eaters.

Alex was about to ask Jesse what he was up to when a sound system blasted some feedback, calling the attention of everybody in the room. “It’s about to start,” Jesse said, “come on.” Jesse led the two of them up to a (relatively) small table at the front of the stage where a few larger-than-normal seats had been set up in a row like Alex had seen in countless youtube videos. Everything from that point on deviated from the norm, though, much to Alex’s delight and surprise.

“Gentlemen, I want you to give a loud Trough welcome to The Big Mezmer, returning for his 100th show tonight!” Sam the bartender shouted from the back. His voice boomed over the mumbling crowd, who, after Sam’s intro, started oinking. Alex looked at Jesse who was glancing around the room and laughing good naturedly about the strange response. Alex couldn’t quite let himself go enough to join in, but as the oinking died down Jesse let out a few loud snorts of his own. It seemed like Jesse was ready for whatever was about to happen, even if every new event or sight threw Alex for a loop.

When Alex finally looked back to the stage Dan, well, The Big Mezmer, was up there wresting the mic from its stand before thanking Sam for the introduction. The smile he gave Sam was more than friendly, Alex thought, but before he could figure out what he was actually noticing the hypnotist had started the show and Alex’s attention became fixed on the big man’s stage presence.

He commanded the room, not difficult to do at his size, but impressive when the crowd was as big if not bigger than he was. Alex was the second smallest in the bar, with Jesse taking the prize. Jesse either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he took out his notebook and a pencil for his research. That’s good, Alex thought. Maybe Jesse won’t notice Alex’s erection and rapt attention if he was writing in his notebook throughout the show. Alex relaxed into his seat at this, figuring he could be less on guard against his friend really seeing how into this show he would almost certainly prove to be. Not only was this an adult hypnosis show, it was a gay hypnosis show featuring what had to be the fattest audience Alex had ever seen. His fetish meter was off the charts, and his dick was rock hard, though Alex’s fat pad kept it mostly hidden—little more than a nub pushing against the fabric of his pants.

Alex leaned forwards as he saw The Big Mezmer stand straight, his gut pushed out far over his belt as he drew in a big breath to start his show. Jesse leaned back in his chair at the same moment, pulling his pad into his lap, a move not unnoticed by Sam, who was making his way to the back of the room to watch the familiar show from a distance. As Sam wheeled behind the bar to dim the lights, he looked up to Dan and then gazed at the two newbies in the front row whom, he could tell from experience, were already beginning to fall under Dan’s thrall. Maybe this one would be special, he thought, as he adjusted a thicker bulge than he usually had at this point in the show. He grabbed at his own firm mass sticking out from above his waist. Special indeed.

“Tonight’s show is about expansion,” The Big Mezmer began, and the audience around Alex and Jesse burst out into deep laughter. “It’s not a show about physical expansion,” The Big Mezmer said, waving his arms to calm the crowd down, “You sly devils, you know the spiel. It’s not a show about physical expansion, it’s a show about expanding boundaries, expanding your conception of yourself, expanding what it means to be who you are. And if you find yourself inspired to grow in other ways…” here The Big Mezmer paused, looked down at himself and then briefly at the two young men in the front row, “all the better.”

The men around Alex and Jesse erupted into applause at this line, and The Big Mezmer used the moment to walk around the stage, looking at the crowd more closely for the first time tonight. He spotted many regulars, of course. Dan’s show had a small but dedicated fanbase and he could expect a good show with the regulars no matter what. But a show with newbies was always more fun. He knew by now how Clint and Jordan and basically everyone else in the room went under, what turned them on, and how he had helped them become the men they were today. But newbies offered new paths to go down, new areas of mental and physical arousal to explore.

Dan didn’t know the newbies well, but he knew the types. The bigger one, the one who couldn’t talk during their brief interaction at the door, was staring at him. Yes, his eyes sometimes briefly flitted to Dan’s gut when the man made a sudden twist or turn during his rote explanation of what hypnosis is and how it works. This was the boring part for sure, but it put everyone on equal playing ground and, if Dan worked his voice and other movements correctly, would start to bring everyone listening into a light trance. The big boy’s friend, on the other hand, was less attentive. Or, wait, no. Not less attentive. No, he was paying close attention to Dan’s words. His pencil in his hand and his notebook were being held less tightly, now mere accessories to a look rather than a tool. Dan briefly wondered what the smaller (but still definitely fat) young man was planning on doing with his notes but figured that he could talk with him about it at a later date when the two newbies were more open to conversation. As the large hypnotist’s opening patter came to a close, Alex’s heart started to race just a little. Here it was, he thought, the moment when he would finally see hypnosis in real life. Or maybe go under? He hadn’t planned on that, sure that he would be too nervous to really submit to a hypnotist in real life, much less a hottie like Dan. The Big Mezmerist, he corrected himself, during the show he’s The Big Mezmerist. An apt nom de stage. He pictured himself and The Big Mezmerist alone in a room together, the space large and intimate simultaneously. The hypnotist’s voice was bouncing off the walls and Alex had lost track of what it was saying. He liked the way it sounded though. Strong and smooth. Commanding but not demanding. He could listen to the voice for hours. Maybe he would. Maybe he would listen for the rest of his life. That wouldn’t be too bad. The voice knew what he wanted, what he needed. The voice would tell him what to do and he would do it because it was right and good and kind.

Jesse too heard the voice. His room was not big and empty but close and comfortable. He laid on a canopied bed the warmth of a late afternoon spring sun shone in on him and within it was the voice. The voice spoke of relaxation, and Jesse felt himself further relax into the soft bed. He knew he needn’t do anything to show his agreement with the voice’s commands, he need only follow what it said. It told him to stand up and get into a chair onstage. Jesse didn’t understand this command. He was lying down in the soft bed and he didn’t think he was moving, but soon enough the voice called him a good boy and Jesse felt elated. If the voice told him he was a good boy it had to be true. There was no question in his mind that he was a good boy, or else he wouldn’t be so relaxed here on the bed. The sun wouldn’t shine on his closed eyes so warmly. His breath wouldn’t be as slow as it was.

Dan smiled as Jesse joined Alex on stage in one of the big, comfortable chairs. He spotted several regulars also deep in trance, drool dripping onto their large chests and bellies. Good backups if something went wrong with the newbies, but with how quickly they went under and how attentively they followed his directions he didn’t have any concerns about them fighting his suggestions for the remainder of the show. The two of them were passed out on stage, having lumbered their heavy bodies up the stairs at the side of the stage and slumped into the chairs as if letting go of their bodies. Maybe the others could join in for the second half of the show. Yes, that’s a good plan, Dan thought. Maybe he’d even get Sam up here. It was a special occasion after all and he had already spotted the muscular fatty nodding off behind the bar.

Alex, the fatter of the two newbies, had his head titled forwards. He had plopped into his chair moments earlier and had settled into what must have been a comfortable position. His double chin kept his face from orienting entirely towards his lap, not that his lap was all that big to begin with given the bulbous orb sticking out from his torso, covering his crotch and upper legs. The wide seated chair allowed for his thunder thighs to spread to their fullest, his meatiness spreading the rest of his legs further than he usually sat. He had really let himself give into the relaxation. His breathing was slow and calm, and Dan could see that he had truly let go of all the unconscious things a fat guy tended to do to take up less space. He let his gut relax, let his legs splay out as much as they needed to, let himself loll lazily without care to how much space he inhabited. Hypnosis itself was freeing, Dan knew, to someone who lived his life so conscious of how others perceived him and his girth.

Like Alex, Jesse’s clothing had a tough time keeping up with his growth. Neither of them had wanted to spend money on new clothes when they could be buying edibles and the goodies they munched on while they hung out together. So when Jesse had plopped his thick ass into the wide chair his tight plain blue tee didn’t hide how much his sizable gut jiggled. His own deep relaxation caused him to sprawl out in the chair, which was built to house even larger men. His arms were spread out on the large soft arms, while his legs splayed out so he laid in a star position if the star had consumed a big gummy and gotten too high to sparkle. His hands dangled limp over the armrests while his head lolled back into the crook of the chair, causing Jesse to snore lightly as he breathed deeply, unconscious of what he was doing or how he looked. An outside observer would call Jesse fat, and it might even shock Jesse to hear that diagnosis, but here it was undeniable. He was fat, chubby all over, and decidedly unable to hide that fact as he sank deeper and deeper into trance.

Dan was pleased with these new subjects and put plans to bring up regulars on hold. Signaling his pleasure at their submission with his sweet, deep voice, he began his show in earnest. “Ok, boys, you’re now drifting, completely relaxed and comfortable. You’re in a place of comfort and imagination, a place where you feel safe and happy to look at yourself and understand who you really are. What that looks like is up to you. My voice calls to you and you hear it over everything else. When you hear my voice it is like your inner voice speaking directly to you with no interference. What I tell you is the truth, and when I ask you a question you respond with the truth, easily and without emotional distress. You’re only talking to yourself after all.”

“Now, I want you to think about your body. Picture a copy of yourself standing next to you, mirroring your every move.”

Alex’s head raised minutely, his physical body struggling to muster the energy to mirror his ephemeral one. Jesse’s head lolled to the right some, but again, his body didn’t seem to have enough power or capability to fully follow what he imagined he was doing under The Big Mezmer’s trance.

“Alex, what do you see there?” Dan asked the young man under his thrall. It was a good baseline to work from. He had to know where his subjects were before he took them to where they needed to be.

Alex’s response was simultaneously clear and soft. He didn’t mumble or slur, but his tone of voice was low and there was little emotion contained within his words. It was clear he was spending the minimal amount of effort to make a response that was still comprehensible. The sign of a subject who had been hypnotized before, Dan knew. He filed that away for later use.

“I see me. I’m tall enough, but my stomach dominates my frame. It’s spread out far in front of me and wider than most. I like that. It feels powerful, and it looks good. The rest of my body is plump but could be bigger. Everything could be bigger. I like getting bigger.”

It was more than Dan had asked for, so he tapped Alex on the shoulder and said “Sleep.” Alex, having slightly lifted his head to respond, slumped again, his double chin becoming even more prominent. The crowd cheered.

Dan motioned to them to settle down before addressing the other large young man on stage. “Jesse, why did you really come here tonight?”

Jesse lifted his head to respond as well, though his eyes remained closed and his mouth hung open between thoughts. “Alex told me he liked getting fat and hypnosis, so I figured I’d find something for him to experience both. I found your website and I knew it would be a perfect show for him. I also wanted to study your technique because I want to be a therapist one day.”

“That’s nice of you, Jesse,” Dan said. The entranced man smiled goofily. His mouth stretching into a grin pushed his chubby cheeks out some, accentuating them for the audience’s pleasure. Dan sensed something was being withheld and pushed further. “But are those really the only reasons why you came here today?”

Jesse stopped smiling, instead furrowing his brow as he genuinely thought more about his motives. Dan sensed his struggle and went to drop him further. Grabbing his shoulders and looking intensely at the chubby college student’s conflicted face Dan quietly but powerfully addressed Jesse, “It’s ok, you’re comfortable here and you know that you’re able to be your full self here without judgement or derision. It’s just you and your inner self, you just need to talk to yourself.”

Dan’s calming words relaxed Jesse’s face. The thick man’s body became even more limp as he quietly admitted, “I wanted to see what the show was like too. I said I came here for research and that’s true, but I wanted to see if I could be entranced. I wanted to see what you would do to us. And I wanted to see Alex go under and give in to what he really wants.”

The crowed ooh’d, clearly the dynamic at play here was more than meets the eye. Dan pressed farther still. “Why do you want to see Alex do that? You knew what the show was like, he didn’t. What’s in it for you to see what is about to happen to Alex?”

Jesse’s face evinced a momentary flicker of discomfort before his inner calmness won over. Still, his face retained a hint of embarrassment as he revealed the final reason why he brought Alex here. “I know Alex gets off on growing, on hypnosis, on pigging out on weed. I noticed one night I had passed out and drooled on myself, and when I came to Alex was in the bathroom jerking off. He thought he was being quiet about it but I heard him. He’s too big to be entirely silent when moving his whole body like that. It…” Jesse trailed off.

“It what, Jesse. What did it make you feel when you knew Alex was jerking off in the next room?”

“It made me… hard. I got hard. When Alex passed out on his bed after he jerked off, I went over to see his sleeping body. I tugged on my dick and came in seconds. It was so hot.” Jesse moaned, and his crotch showed that relaying that memory had awoken his dick again. It created a prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

Dan, of course, noticed this, and used it to his advantage. “You found Alex’s jerking off to you hot, Jesse. You though it was sexy that he thought you were sexy. It made you horny that you made him horny. This can only mean one thing, Jesse. You are attracted to Alex.”

Jesse maybe wouldn’t have agreed to this line of logic had he been in full control of his mind and body. But he wasn’t. He heard Dan’s voice as his inner voice, and therefore accepted the leap from basic biological responses to heightened hormones and intoxication to deep emotional truth with ease. He reached a lazy hand to his crotch and gave his hardness a squeeze as Dan finished his logic train. Dan turned to the audience and gave a quick bow before pressing even further.

“But you weren’t just horny because Alex found you sexy, Jesse. No, it was more than that. It was why he found you attractive that turned you on. You’ve noticed your own growth along with Alex, haven’t you?”

Jesse nodded slowly.

“You’ve noticed when Alex glances at your belly, at your growing double chins, at your arm flab spreading out of your t-shirt sleeves. You’ve seen him look at your thighs spread out flat against a chair. You like it when he looks at you, don’t you?”

Jesse nodded again.

“And you know what he likes, you know you like it when he looks at you. You want to do what you can to have Alex’s attention. You want to grow for him. You’ve already been doing it subconsciously. Now you want to do it on purpose.”

Jesse nodded again, his bulge pulsing with desire.

“In a few minutes I’m going to wake you up. You’ll know that you like Alex as more than a friend, and you want him to like you that way too. You’ll do what you need to do to attract his amorous attention, and you’ll be entirely comfortable entering into a physical and emotional relationship with Alex. Do you understand?”

Jesse nodded.

“Ok, Jesse, you can fall back asleep now. You’ll wake up when I snap my fingers and say ‘awake,’ and you’ll fall back under my hypnotic control when I snap my fingers and say ‘sleep.’”

snap “Sleep.” Dan pulled on Jesse’s hand and the college senior slumped forwards in his chair, his bigger-than-average body heaving ever so slightly as he breathed deeply.

Dan turned to the crowd and bowed again. The large men in the crowd knew this was Dan’s signal that he was finished with the first part of the show, and that his thralls were completely under, not to be awoken by such minor things as the thunderous sound the crowd made stamping their feet, pounding their beer mugs on the table, hooting and hollering. The man never missed, the show was always good. The men in attendance were evidence enough of that, every new demonstration only adding to his legendary status. He was a Big Mezmer in more ways than his physical appearance.

“Boys,” Dan yelled, louder than normal to quiet the crowd and refocus them on his thralls, “I want you to listen to me very closely. You’re both ready for the show now. You’ll continue listening to me as if I were your inner monologue, and you’ll do whatever I command you to do. You won’t be embarrassed or afraid to do what I ask of you up here. You like to do what I say because it’s easier than being afraid or embarrassed. You can just let me tell you what to do and enjoy your body and mind following orders.”

The two college students nodded slowly.

“As you continue nodding your heads you’ll notice that you’re getting high. However high you’ve gotten before is nothing compared to this. Whatever you feel when you’re getting high will be doubled, and doubled again whenever I clap my hands together. Luckily for you my other friend, Frank, has cooked you a supply of delicious bar snacks. As you eat them, you’ll continue to get high and just do what you would normally do when you get high. You can just talk to each other calmly, as if you were alone and not on stage. Any sound you hear will be from the tv, not anything else.”

Dan had done shows like this before, with fatties who got high and pigged out. He found that recreating that non-hypnotized experience would give his subjects a good ground to build from, providing comforting familiarity before pushing them further than they’d ever go on their own. He knew just how to kick it up a notch, too.

“And whenever you finish a piece of food, a soft pretzel caked in beer cheese or a chicken wing or a handful of fries, you’ll realize that you’re getting really hot. You’ll have to take off a piece of clothing to cool down, but you won’t realize you’ve done anything until you’re completely naked. At that point you’ll find the fact that you’re incredibly high and full of fattening bar food to be extremely hot, but this time in a horny way. You’ll get hard and start to feel your growing body to feel even hornier. You will notice your friend is following the same path but will have no qualms about doing any of this in front of him. In fact, you like that you have an audience for your indulgence. It turns you on even more. And when you’re almost ready to cum from all of the stimulation and fullness you’ll fall back into a deep sleep, your hard cock the only stiff body part left. If you understand these instructions I want you to jiggle your moob.”

This last bit got the audience to laugh again. It was a staple of Dan’s shows, an acknowledgement that his shows were not exactly the norm where a hypnotized subject would be told to nod if they agreed. Dan found that the more he used a subject’s fatness even in the basic parts of the hypnosis show the more the subject could give in and enjoy their corpulence. And, of course, it turned him on, too.

The two boys enthusiastically, or as enthusiastically as they could in their deep trances, grabbed their moobs and jiggled them up and down. Dan smiled and snapped his fingers as he said “Awake!”

Alex raised his head slowly. Was he back in his dorm? They didn’t have these kinds of chairs in his and Jesse’s room, he thought, before dismissing it as unimportant. What he did know was that he was high as hell, blissed out on what must have been a double dose of the special stuff. There Jesse was next to him, and he too had a look of blissful emptiness on his face. Alex couldn’t stop himself from staring at Jesse’s fat face. It was angelic, he thought, the face of a person who knew life’s greatest joy was getting high with his friend and chowing down on delicious food together.

Speaking of which, here was a huge tray of food on the table (?) between them. It all looked so good, fresh out of the kitchen. He and Jesse must have spent a lot of time preparing for tonight’s munchie-fest. Alex grabbed a soft pretzel and ate it slowly, savoring the fresh dough, salt, and warm beer cheese slathered all over it. Mmmm, it was delicious. Alex started rubbing his big belly as he usually did, feeling his hunger and horniness intensify as he ate. When he came to the last bite it suddenly got very hot in the room, like the heat had been turned up. Alex briefly stood up before he sat back down again and grabbed a small plate of chicken poppers. He went back to rubbing his belly, feeling his hairy stomach slowly move around as his hand dug into his belly button for greater purchase. He was happier than he had ever been.

Jesse, too, was chowing down on a slice of pizza. He didn’t know how he had gotten to where he was (where was he anyway? In his dorm, of course) or when all this food had gotten here, but he was moaning with delight as he ate what must have been the best slice of pizza he had ever had. He looked over to Alex, who was sitting in his chair with a small plate of chicken poppers resting atop his broad, hairy belly. Jesse smiled at him and tried to mumble something about how tasty everything was before he became unreasonably hot. He stood up and just as he did so sat back down. He wiggled his toes, delighting in their little chubby movements as they brushed past each other.

Sam watched the two young men eat and eat and eat. It was a situation he was very familiar with, both from personal experience with his private nights at the Trough after everyone but Dan and Frank had left and from watching Dan do his magic on a weekly basis these past two years. There was the fatter one, Alex, he thought, taking off his pants as he finished his last popper. What kind of underwear was he wearing, Sam wondered, before slightly bulging his eyes at the orange jock strap Alex was left with. Sam chuckled to himself as he realized that the big boy’s underwear matched his socks, the only two remaining items of clothing on his body.

With interest, Sam looked over at the smaller of the two subjects on stage. Jesse reminded him of himself at that age. Just starting to burst out of the boxes society put people in and discovering what he really liked. Maybe it was feet stuff, in addition to the fat fetish everyone in Dan’s shows had (or would soon have), given that he took his socks off first. Or maybe that’s just some lingering hesitancy to really show off how fat he had become. Something subconscious that still needed to be teased out or a button that needed pushing that would see Jesse fully embrace his fat destiny. Either way, Sam knew that he would leave here just as stuffed and ready to be even fatter. Everyone did. Even Sam did all those years ago. Before the shows, Before the bar.

Ah, Jesse had finished his own chicken wings as Sam was reminiscing. He undid the drawstring of his sweatpants and dropped them to the ground before kicking them aside. Tighty whities! A throwback for such a young man, but not an unwelcome one. There’s something about a tubby guy in classic tighty whities that got Sam going. You knew how they looked on a fit guy, the guy on the ad and the 10 pack they came in. But a body like Jesse’s, fat and growing fatter, created a kind of inherent contrast with the norm that got Sam hard. Alex’s more openly sexual choice of underwear had been almost instantly swallowed by his lard when he sat back down minutes earlier, the straps across his waist hidden by his pendulous belly and the pouch still containing his dick sucked into a cave of fat thighs with a belly ceiling. Jesse’s tighty whities on the other hand were still visible as he returned to his seated position, grabbing a handful of fries to munch on mindlessly. His belly hadn’t grown enough to cover the bright white fabric, but Sam spotted the signs of a needed sizing up where Jesse’s thighs created a bottleneck for his expanding thighs even from the bar.

On stage, Dan had taken a seat in one of the unused chairs, becoming an audience member temporarily. He liked doing this, setting up a big scene and then letting it play out unimpeded. And boy was it playing out. Alex took to the gorging easily, while Jesse was ever so slightly slowing down on his third portion. Dan looked out to the crowd who had their own plates of appetizers that they were eating in concordance with the two on stage. He could see a few of them had their own glazed looks, and he noticed Clint had followed the directions Dan had given to the two on stage, taking off his clothes as he finished each plate. Dan smiled. Contact hypnosis was not unusual, and Clint’s table of regulars took it in good stride. His boyfriend, Jordan, was rubbing his belly for him as Clint paused to let out a big belch. Dan never got tired of watching those two eat and grope each other, but he could see that any time. He was here to watch Jesse and Alex from the best seat in the house.

He was so close he could see the stretch marks on Alex’s big round belly and muffin handles. They were red and big, sure signs of recent growth. His armpits had a few as well, an affliction Dan knew from personal experience created a heady mix of pleasure and itchiness that he had grown to love. Maybe Alex did too. Dan made a mental note to ensure Alex’s appreciation for the physical signs of his growth later on.

Alex had taken off his orange socks and was halfway through his last portion, a big plate of nachos and salsa. His cock was hard, Dan could tell, even if it wasn’t protruding much beyond the fabric of the pouch it was contained within. Up so close Dan got a good look at Alex’s crotch and found another familiar sight. Alex must have gotten this jock strap several dozens of pounds ago because the pouch wasn’t even big enough to cover his full fat pad, his hairy bush sticking out from the sides alongside a sizable helping of pure fat. This might have been a perfectly fine jock that could contain his whole crotch half a year ago but now it was just another testament to his growing girth.

Jesse, too was obviously too big for his clothes. He had left his shirt for last, now stepping out of his tighty whities. He knew Sam was probably happy to see the chubby guy’s choice of sensible underwear, and maybe the bar’s owner and tender was even soaking his own pair in a river of precum. Jesse’s bare cock, unshaved and uncut, was more obvious than Alex’s smaller and more buried in fat member. Jesse lazily stroked his hard dick as he took his final plate of food, a big bowl of chips and sour cream to dip them in. His eyes were totally unfocused now, glazed over by the deep trance he was in alongside the suggestion that he was higher than he had ever been before. A lazy smile drifted across his face at the first bite of the delectable combo and his hand stiffened on his cock as he chewed and swallowed. Oh yes, this was a certified fatty in the making.

Jesse, too, was obviously too big for his clothes. He had left his shirt for last, now stepping out of his tighty whities. He knew Sam was probably happy to see the chubby guy’s choice of sensible underwear, and maybe the bar’s owner and tender was even soaking his own pair in a river of precum. Jesse’s bare cock, unshaved and uncut, was more obvious than Alex’s smaller and more buried-in-fat member. Jesse lazily stroked his hard dick as he took his final plate of food, a big bowl of chips and sour cream to dip them in. His eyes were totally unfocused now, glazed over by the deep trance he was in alongside the suggestion that he was higher than he had ever been before. A lazy smile drifted across his face at the first bite of the delectable combo and his hand stiffened on his cock as he chewed and swallowed. Oh yes, this was a certified fatty in the making.

Alex, meanwhile, had finished his last appetizer and was standing up to take his jockstrap off. The audience hooted their approval of his fully belly, but Alex was oblivious to them. He did, however, finally notice Jesse, sitting to his side, stuffing chips and dip into his face while he jerked his hard cock, moaning. Alex copied Jesse’s exhortations of pleasure, as he slowly, dazedly, dragged his too-small jockstrap down his fat thighs. The fat pad and thickness of his thighs had grabbed around the pouch of the orange fabric and kept it held in place against Alex’s pulling until it snapped free, causing all of Alex’s fat around his lower belly and upper thighs to jiggle. This, of course, only made Alex moan even harder as he stood, proudly naked and upright, grasping what he could of his small but diamond-hard cock. The noise and commotion made Jesse finally look up from his own ministrations on his member to see his corpulent, lovely, hot roommate jerking his tiny dick.

His eyes locked on Alex’s little three incher. From his position so close to Alex he could see that the actual length of his penis was hidden under Alex’s sizable fat pad. It might have been just a slightly-below average dick if Alex hadn’t glutted himself to such levels that even the space between his round, protruding belly and dick had grown fat along with everything else. Deep in his blissed-out mind, Jesse registered something like jealousy. He wanted to play with that dick and fat pad. Hell, he wanted a fat pad of his own, perhaps, to play with and marvel at. Thinking about this as he jerked his own penis with one hand and ate from the dwindling supply of chips with the other made him whimper some more, this time with a thin line of drool coming out of his mouth. He felt so high and happy and horny and hungry.

Dan could see that Alex was approaching a climax that would never come as he was instructed to fall back into trance just as he was about to come. But Dan was a showman and wanted the two roommates to at least have some physical intimacy before they sank back into oblivion. He spoke quietly so that only Jesse could hear him. “Jesse, you see Alex’s arousal and it makes you twice as happy and high and horny and hungry. You’ll eat what’s left of your chips in one bite and as you finish chewing you’ll take your shirt off and go over to Alex to feel his fat belly. Doing so will bring you close to climax and you’ll fall into a deep trance, standing upright but letting your body relax. Jiggle your moob if you understand.”

Jesse thought he heard a voice talking to him but it must have just been his inner monologue. There was nobody here except for him and his also high-out-of-his-mind roommate, Alex. He was so hot. Just looking at him made Jesse smile even harder as the haze of the high reached yet another level. Jesse couldn’t think of anything except how cute and fat Alex was, and how horny it was making him to see Alex so proudly display his plumpness. Jesse shoved the last of the chips and dip into his mouth as he stood to rip his shirt off. It was harder than he expected to get naked like Alex was. The shirt he was wearing was probably a size or two too small, and his mind felt like it was several steps behind his body. He would go to grab the lower hem of his shirt but by the time his hand got there his fat belly had twisted and the shirt was just out of reach. After several seconds that felt like minutes of trying to strip, Jesse finally did. He was standing now, Alex’s equal in height if not weight. He started to stumble towards Alex, taking the extra care of the high to ensure that each step was solid before starting the next.

The crowd was rapturous at this point. They could see where this was going and it was making them all hard. They, too had largely finished their plates of appetizers and used their empty hands to flounder at their crotches over their pants. At least, most of them still had pants on. Clint was fully nude now and also jerking off with the help of his boyfriend, Jordan, who was still rubbing Clint’s belly. Jordan’s continuous rubs had dropped him into a small trance of his own, and his slack jaw allowed a line of drool to drop from his mouth onto Clint’s belly, which he then slowly rubbed into the tight skin.

Dan turned from his old friends getting intimate in the crowd to his new subjects as they met, minds melted from hypnosis and what they thought was weed, bellies full of fattening snacks, eyes full of lust. Jesse reached for the soft underbelly Alex was jiggling as he slowly jerked his half-hidden cock. Alex aimed higher, reaching his free hand up to Jesse’s burgeoning man boobs. They weren’t big, not yet, but Alex still found himself inexorably attracted to them. Something about their softness, their refusal to obey gravity given their smallness. Alex leaned forwards, smelling the delicious food Jesse had crammed down his throat as he latched his mouth onto Jesse’s right nipple and gently bit down. Jesse sighed and fell limp like a puppet with the strings cut. Alex, too horny and hypnotized to think he was high to think straight, only took in this collapse as another thing to spark arousal. He sped up his jerking until he was just about to cum when he too fell into oblivion.

The crowd roared and Dan stood to bow, the first act of his show complete. When they finally settled down he began act two, or, as he liked to think of it, dinner.

[maxpounds]

My Roommate

Part One

Moving day arrived with the sun shining brightly over the city. I had decided to find a roommate to help pay the mortgage, since my salary at the clothing store wasn't enough. The idea of sharing my space with someone new made me feel both anxious and excited.

Erik arrived early, dressed in a large, comfortable tracksuit. He was a handsome 25-year-old, recently independent, working from home as a programmer. In contrast to my usual work suit and tie, his relaxed style caught my attention immediately.

"Hi, Frank," Erik said with a broad smile, extending his hand.

"Hi, Erik. Let me help you with the boxes," I replied, shaking his hand.

From our first meeting when he came to see the apartment, we got along well. As Erik unpacked his things and arranged them in his new room, I couldn't help but watch him. There was something about his presence that attracted me.

After a few hours of work, we finished settling everything. Erik collapsed onto the sofa, sweating slightly from the effort, and I noticed that his clothes, though large, didn't completely hide a slight roundness in certain areas of his figure. It was then that I understood why he had brought so much food. The fridge, which usually held my fruits and vegetables, was now packed with ready meals, cheese, whole milk, and various sauces. The cabinets were filled with pasta, rice, chips, cookies, and other snacks.

"Wow, you have quite an appetite," I commented, trying to sound casual as I observed his provisions.

Erik laughed. "Yeah, I like to eat."

I couldn't deny it puzzled me, but I decided not to dwell on it and simply accepted that my new roommate had a different lifestyle from mine.

One night, weeks later, I came home after a bad date. I was feeling disappointed and frustrated. To my surprise, I found Erik sitting on the couch with two empty pizza boxes beside him.

"Hey, Frank. How was the date?" he asked with a carefree smile.

"There was no spark," I said, shrugging.

Erik looked at me with interest. "Maybe he wasn't your type," he said, a sympathetic look on his handsome face. "Sometimes it's hard to find someone who we really click with."

I sank into the armchair across from him, feeling a bit better hearing his words. He always had a way of making me feel understood and less alone.

"Maybe you're right," I admitted, letting out a sigh.

As we talked, I noticed something different about Erik. His tracksuit no longer fit as loosely as when he moved in. In fact, his sweatshirt seemed to hide a growing belly. It was clear he was enjoying his food, and his body showed it. He got up and walked to the kitchen. His sweatpants clung to his rounder butt in a way I hadn't seen before. He opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a huge tub of protein powder, which surprised me.

"Have you been to the gym?" I asked, trying to understand why he needed a protein shake after two pizzas.

Erik laughed and shook his head. "No, I don't go to the gym," he said as if the idea amused him.

"Oh. Well, I think it's time for me to go to bed."

"Goodnight, Frank."

Maybe he was right. Maybe the slim guy I went out with wasn't simply my type. I'd always been more attracted to burly men, bears.

One hot night in late spring, I woke up thirsty. I got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I reached the doorway, I stopped in my tracks. The scene before me left me paralyzed. Erik was standing there, illuminated by the light of the open fridge. He was wearing only a pair of briefs that dug into his skin, highlighting his curves and revealing the increasing roundness of his body. His belly slightly spilled over the elastic waistband, and his thighs looked thicker, but what stood out the most was his butt. That round, prominent ass completely filled the underwear, stretching the fabric to its limit. Erik had a box of donuts on the counter and was eating one after another with insatiable voracity using his left hand. His right hand was inside his briefs, moving rhythmically as he masturbated. The pleasure on his face was undeniable. I couldn't help but stand there, silently watching. The sight of Erik pleasuring himself like that, enjoying the food and his own body, was mesmerizing. I felt my erection grow quickly.

I backed away from the doorway carefully, trying not to make any noise, and returned to my room. The image of Erik lingered in my mind: his increasingly plump body, his hands occupied with the donuts and his cock, the expression on his face. I knew something had changed within me and that my attraction to Erik had grown in a way I couldn't ignore.

Part Two

With the arrival of summer, the heat in our apartment became unbearable. Erik started walking around in just his briefs, and every time I saw him, my heart pounded harder. His physique had changed noticeably. His belly had grown larger and stuck out proudly. His butt had become even bigger and rounder. The briefs barely contained his cheeks, and the integrity of the fabric was tested with every move. Erik seemed comfortable with his body. Seeing him so natural and carefree drove me wild.

One afternoon, as we sat on the couch watching TV, I couldn't contain my curiosity. I looked at him intently and asked:

"Erik, are you... gaining weight on purpose?"

Erik remained silent for a moment, then a mischievous smile spread across his face.

"Yes, Frank, I am doing it on purpose."

"Why?" I asked.

"I've always been excited by the idea of gaining weight, feeling my body grow, my belly expanding, and my butt getting bigger. I love seeing how my clothes get tighter," he explained.

My eyes widened. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and at the same time, I felt incredibly aroused. His confession had only intensified my desire.

The next morning, as I headed to the kitchen to have coffee, I noticed the bathroom door was slightly ajar. Through the crack, I could see Erik in the shower. Water cascaded over his naked body, highlighting every curve, every fold of his skin. Watching his hands deliberately move over his fat belly, his chest, and then his enormous buttocks was fascinating. I clung to the door, my erection painfully hard. Unbeknownst to me, a damp spot formed in my briefs, a sign of my extreme arousal. Erik saw me. He didn't say anything, but his smile and the gleam in his eyes said it all. He pulled back the shower curtain and gestured for me to join him. Without thinking twice, I stepped into the bathroom. I quickly dropped my briefs to the floor and approached him. He turned, offering me his back. My eyes were fixed on his round, firm butt, a view I couldn't resist. I began to caress him, and Erik shuddered under my touch. I couldn't wait any longer; my throbbing cock sought its target. I aligned myself with him, and with a slow, deliberate motion, I entered him. The sensation was incredible. A moan escaped my lips. Erik arched back, bracing his hands against the shower wall as I started to move inside him. My hands gripped his love handles, and I increased the pace. The thrusts became stronger, more desperate, and Erik responded to each one with moans of pleasure. I felt his breathing quicken as we neared the climax. Finally, with a muffled cry, I came inside him. Erik shuddered and cried out too, his own orgasm following mine. We stayed like that, connected and panting, as the water continued to fall, washing away the sweat and passion we had shared.

That night, after a long day at work, I couldn't stop thinking about the morning's experience. When I got home, I found Erik relaxing on the sofa. I approached him and sat down beside him.

"Erik, there's something I need to tell you," I began, trying to keep my voice steady. "I love how fat you're getting. Especially your butt. It drives me crazy. And I want to see you get even fatter."

Erik smiled, his rounded face filled with satisfaction. "I like what I'm hearing, Frank."

I stood up and went to the kitchen, where I pulled a two-liter tub of ice cream from the freezer. Returning to the sofa, I placed it in front of Erik, who had already eaten two huge plates of pasta for dinner. His eyes lit up at the sight of the ice cream. I sat beside him and started feeding him. The ice cream melted in his mouth, and his lips moved with delight, swallowing each spoonful. My hand slid over his belly, feeling the fullness and warmth of his flesh under my fingers.

"That's it, Erik," I whispered in his ear, leaning in to kiss his neck. "I want you to eat it all. I want to see you grow."

After what seemed like hours, Erik finished the ice cream. He lay back on the sofa, his breathing heavy, his eyes locked on mine.

"Thank you, Frank," he murmured with gratitude and desire.

"This is just the beginning," I said.

I knelt before him, and ran my hands along his thick thighs. My fingers then played with his nipples while I kissed his belly. Erik panted as my mouth traveled down his body. I nibbled his cock through his briefs, feeling his hardness against my teeth. With a swift motion, I slid the garment down, and freed his erection. My tongue traced its length, savoring every inch before taking it into my mouth. My hands continued exploring, caressing his thighs and balls. Erik moaned and writhed. With a cry of pleasure, he came in my mouth. His hot cum filled my throat.

Part Three

A few months had passed, and Erik was incredibly fat. I woke up one morning to the sight of his enormous, round, jiggly butt resting on the bed next to me. I admired its size, along with the cellulite on his thighs and the stretch marks on his love handles. Still groggy, I moved closer and placed my hands on his buttocks, gently shaking them. The flesh wobbled, semthing that excited me like nothing else in the world. I lowered his new XXL briefs and kissed his cheeks with devotion.

"You've gained so much weight, Erik," I murmured against his skin. "And it turns me on so much seeing you like this."

Erik moaned in response, and my hands became bolder. I squeezed and kneaded his butt, feeling the fat beneath my palms as my tongue explored every inch too.

"I love you like this, so big, so sexy," I whispered.

Erik writhed in pleasure.

"Frank, bring me breakfast in bed," he requested. "I want to start the day well-fed."

I got up quickly, my erection throbbing with anticipation, and headed to the kitchen. I prepared a tray with everything I knew Erik loved: plenty of buttered toast, a cheese omelet, two enormous chocolate-filled croissants, and a giant protein shake made with equal parts of milk and cream.

When I returned to the bedroom, Erik was waiting for me, reclined on the bed with a satisfied smile on his face. I placed the tray in front of him and watched as his eyes lit up at the sight of the food.

"Perfect," Erik said.

I sat beside him. He began to eat with enthusiasm. The way he enjoyed each bite, the joy on his face as he ate, filled my heart with deep satisfaction. I thought about how incredible it was to see his body expand, full of fat, more beautiful each day. And I knew Erik loved it too, every bite, every touch, every look of desire.

When he finished breakfast, I stayed in bed watching him get up and walk to the bathroom. His body had changed so much over the past few months; it was an intoxicating spectacle.

"You're such a fat pig, Erik," I said, sliding my hand over my own body. "Look at all that meat moving. Damn, you're so obese."

Erik stopped and turned to me, his eyes shining with excitement. He loved it when I talked to him like that. I started to jerk off, watching every move of his body.

"You love being this fat, don't you?" I continued, my voice husky.

Erik moaned softly, his hands caressing his bloated belly, fingers tracing the stretch marks that adorned it.

"Yes, Frank. Tell me," he begged with desire. "Tell me how fat I am, how much more you're going to make me gain."

"You're insatiable," I whispered lustfully. "I'm going to keep feeding you. I want you to be the fattest man I've ever seen."

My hands moved more urgently, my eyes fixed on Erik's body.

"You look so sexy stuffed with food," I told him, feeling my own excitement reach its peak. "There's nothing I love more than watching you turn into a satisfied, obese pig."

Erik bit his lip, and I saw his own erection grow beneath his belly.

"Yes, Frank, make me fatter," he replied. "I can't wait to see how many more pounds I'll gain for you."

With those final words, I came, my semen shooting across the room.

Final Part

It was Saturday, and I decided we needed to go to a buffet. Erik was sitting on the couch in his now extremely small XXL briefs, his enormous belly resting on his thighs. I watched him for a moment before saying:

"Today we're going to a buffet, and I want you to wear something tight. I want everyone to see how big you've gotten."

Erik nodded, a spark of excitement in his eyes. He went to his room, and I followed, knowing he would choose the tightest clothes he had. He opted for a shirt that clung to his belly, highlighting every roll, and pants that squeezed his thighs and huge butt. I felt instantly aroused seeing him like that.

We arrived at the buffet, a paradise of greasy, abundant food, and we took our seats.

"I want you to eat non-stop. OK? Do not stop until I tell you to."

Erik nodded, stood up, and headed to the buffet tables. He returned with something for me and a plate full of pizza, fries, and fried chicken for himself. I watched him eat, savoring every bite he took. When he finished, I said:

"Go for more."

Erik got up and fetched another plate. This time he returned with burgers, onion rings, and more fries. The obvious pleasure on his face as he filled his body with more and more greasy food was thrilling.

"You're a fat pig," I whispered when he finished. "Eat more; I want to see you get even bigger."

Erik obeyed without question, rising again to get more food. I watched him walk, his huge, round butt bouncing with every step. He came back with a plate of mac and cheese and ribs. His belly was already peeking out from under his shirt.

"More, Erik. Don't stop," I ordered as he took the last bite.

Once again, he obeyed, getting up with difficulty, his tight clothes highlighting every inch of his fat. He returned with several pieces of cake.

We went home hours later. As soon as we got in, Erik collapsed heavily on the couch. I approached him, my excitement palpable.

"You're pure lard, Erik," I whispered, starting to undress him.

First, I removed his shirt, releasing his broad chest and enlarged nipples. My fingers caressed them, and Erik moaned.

"Look at you, with those huge tits and that round belly. You're such a glutton."

I struggled to remove his pants, the fabric clinging to his thick thighs and butt, which looked like two beach balls. He was left in his briefs, which I slowly pulled down, revealing his erect member, partially buried in his pubic fat.

"I love how huge you've gotten."

My hands roamed his body, groping his soft flesh. I caressed his swollen belly, feeling its warmth and smooth texture. Then I directed a hand to his cock and began to stroke it. Every movement made everything jiggle, especially his nipples, which bounced with each thrust.

"You're so sexy, so obese. Tomorrow we'll go back to the buffet," I murmured, increasing the pace of my movements.

Erik moaned louder and climaxed, his hot semen spurting into my hands. I fed it to him, then kissed him, feeling a deep satisfaction knowing I had helped him become the man he so desired to be.

[thewalkingalive19]

Super hot stuff

[maxpounds]

Broken Leg

Part one

It was the third week of the university course, and the campus was buzzing with life and activity. Alex and David, dorm roommates, had hit it off from the start. They attended the same classes, shared meals in the cafeteria, and spent hours together in the gym. Alex was blond and he had an athletic body. What stood out the most about his physique was his perky butt. Despite his shyness, he enjoyed David's company. David, darker-haired and more muscular, exuded confidence and had a dominant presence that Alex found intoxicating. Both were very handsome but still virgins.

One afternoon, David returned from the library loaded with books and notes, only to find Alex in bed with a cast on his leg.

"What happened?" he asked, putting his things aside and approaching him.

Alex sighed, clearly annoyed.

"I had a stupid fall on the stairs. I broke my leg, and the doctor said I should avoid putting weight on it for an entire month."

David frowned.

"Wow. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Yes, but they gave me something for the pain. The worst part is I can't move well, and I don't know how I'll attend classes."

David sat on the edge of Alex's bed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about that. I'll share my notes with you so you won't fall behind."

"Thanks."

"And forget about going to the cafeteria. I'll bring you takeout."

Alex looked at him with gratitude.

"What would I do without you?"

David stood up, his expression firm.

"I'm here to help. We'll get through this together."

With that promise, David set out to take care of Alex over the following weeks.

On his first day as a nurse, David woke up early to attend classes, leaving Alex sleeping in the room. He returned a few hours later with fast food in a bag from a campus restaurant.

"I brought you something to eat," he said, placing the bag on a tray over Alex's bed. "I'm heading to the cafeteria now and then to the gym. I'll fetch your dinner tonight."

"Thanks."

Hungry, Alex glanced at his food and quickly devoured it: a burger, fries, and a milkshake. He felt a bit guilty about consuming so many calories, but hunger and boredom made him ignore those thoughts.

Each day followed a similar pattern. And the evenings became their time together. David would go out for dinner, and they would settle in Alex's bed to watch movies and series on the laptop. They shared laughs and conversations. David often watched Alex eat, noticing small changes in his body. His toned muscles started to soften, and a small layer of fat accumulated around his waist and thighs. Alex also noticed the changes. Initially, he felt uncomfortable and embarrassed, though there was something intriguing about it all.

One night, while enjoying a movie together, Alex looked at David.

"I think I've gained some weight," he murmured.

David nodded.

"Yeah, I've noticed. But you're fine, Alex."

David's words made Alex blush and awakened something inside him.

As the days passed, both found themselves thinking more and more about Alex's weight gain. The night before removing the cast, they were in bed, watching a movie. David let his hand rest on Alex's abdomen, feeling the soft curve that had formed. Alex tensed at first but then relaxed, allowing David's hand to stay there.

"I didn't know I'd like this so much," Alex admitted quietly, looking at David with bright eyes.

David smiled, his thumb gently caressing Alex's skin.

"Me neither."

They shared a look filled with meaning. The sexual tension was palpable. David, with his hand still on Alex's soft abdomen, decided to take the first step. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Alex's. Alex responded to the kiss, first shyly and then with growing fervor. When they separated, they were breathing heavily.

"Your physical change turns me on, Alex," David confessed.

Alex gulped.

"It turns me on too," he admitted quietly. "And the fact that you're the one who brought me all that food, that you're partly responsible for my change... arouses me a lot."

Alex's words encouraged David. With a mischievous smile, he took off Alex's shirt, exposing his chest and belly. Alex did the same, undressing David with trembling but determined hands. Alex's pecs, once firm, showed a slight layer of fat, and his nipples were more prominent. His belly had lost definition and appeared softly rounded. David's hands moved down to Alex's pants, unbuttoning and pulling them down. Alex mimicked David. They were left in tight briefs, the fabric clearly outlining their painful hard-ons. With a mix of desire and curiosity, David slid Alex's briefs down, freeing his penis. He then revealed his own. They studied each other for a moment, absorbing the sight of one another, before David took the initiative.

"You look incredible," he murmured, his hand sliding over Alex's abdomen.

His voice was thick with desire. He began to work Alex's cock with slow, firm movements. Alex closed his eyes and let out a moan. Each stroke increased the pleasure.

"David," Alex gasped, "I'm going to... oh... God..."

David increased the pace of his hand while attending to his own erection with equal intensity.

"Let go, Alex," David whispered, his eyes locked on his roommate's.

With a final moan, Alex climaxed. He came in David's hand, who soon reached his own orgasm and collapsed beside him. They knew they had just crossed a line, one they weren't willing to step back from. Their lives had changed forever, and they were eager to explore what the future held.

The next morning, a Saturday, Alex left the doctor's office feeling relieved and excited. After weeks with a cast, he could finally move with more freedom. He had put on sweatpants, since all his jeans were too tight. Opening the dorm door, he found David waiting with a big smile and food temptingly spread out on one of the desks.

"Welcome back to freedom, Alex!" David exclaimed, stepping in for a hug. "I thought we should celebrate in style."

Alex smiled, feeling a special warmth inside.

"Thanks, David. Wow, that's a lot of food."

They sat on the bed, and David started serving him generous portions on a tray. Alex, excited, devoured each bite while David watched with satisfaction. As Alex ate, David couldn't help but comment on the changes in Alex's body.

"You've gained a lot, especially in your butt," he said with a naughty look. "It's gotten bigger and rounder. I love it."

Alex felt his cheeks blush, but couldn't deny he liked David's attention.

"Yeah, these sweatpants are one of the few things that fit," he admitted between bites.

"And not just in your butt," David continued, running his hand over Alex's abdomen. "Your belly has grown too."

After a good while of chewing, swallowing, and drinking, Alex was full and satisfied. But David had more plans for him.

"I want to give you something else, as a reward for eating everything," he said seductively.

David knelt in front of Alex and began to pull down his pants, exposing his tight briefs.

"Wow, these look so snug, Alex," he murmured before freeing Alex's semi-erection and starting to pleasure him with his mouth.

Alex's moans filled the room as David worked skillfully. When Alex reached orgasm, his newly gained fat jiggled. David got up, licking his lips, and leaned in to kiss Alex.

"I want to see you grow more. Would you like that?"

Alex, still feeling waves of pleasure, nodded. David smiled with satisfaction.

Part two

Another month passed, during which David dedicated himself to feeding Alex with great care. Every evening, after dinner at the cafeteria, he made sure his roommate’s belly was well filled. Alex eagerly devoured everything, enjoying both the junk food they bought from local restaurants and the numerous baked goods.

One Sunday afternoon, after a particularly heavy lunch, Alex found himself alone in front of the bathroom mirror. He was only wearing briefs, which now didn't really fit. He turned to see his reflection from different angles. His belly had grown noticeably, rounding out and projecting over the elastic waistband of his underwear. His thighs had thickened, and his love handles bulged out at the sides. But the most striking change was his butt: it had become even bigger and rounder, completely filling the back of his underwear and stretching the fabric almost to its limit. David entered the room at that moment with a box of donuts in hand. Seeing Alex admiring himself in the mirror, a smile of pride and desire appeared on his face.

“Look at you,” David said, approaching and running his hands over Alex’s hips to squeeze the fat with adoration. “You’re so fat...”

Alex shivered at David’s touch and his words.

“It’s your fault,” murmured with excitement.

David moved closer, pressing his body against Alex’s. “I know,” he whispered in his ear before offering him a donut. “Eat.”

Alex took the donut and bit into it, enjoying the sweet taste and the feeling of being fed. As Alex ate, David set the box on the sink, unbuttoned his pants, and lowered his underwear, revealing his immediate erection. Without taking his eyes off Alex’s reflection in the mirror, he slid his tight briefs down with difficulty, exposing his plump cheeks.

“This ass needs to be fucked,” David said, rubbing the sticky tip of his cock between the voluptuous cheeks.

As Alex continued to eat the donuts David gave him, David penetrated him very slowly, their moans mixing with the sounds of Alex chewing. Each thrust was a reminder of how much he had changed, how his body had transformed. David kept whispering in his ear how fat he was. Alex, completely surrendered, felt waves of pleasure through his body. His belly bounced slightly with each movement, and his hard nipples rubbed against the mirror. He finished the last donut just as he reached climax, his cries echoing in the bathroom. David kept moving, prolonging the pleasure for both of them, before finally coming. He stayed inside Alex for a few moments, breathing heavily.

“I want to see you even fatter,” he said.

Alex, still feeling David’s cock inside him and the donuts in his stomach, nodded. “Yes. Make me fatter.”

The next day, Alex and David decided they wouldn’t go to class. The desire to spend the day together enjoying their intimacy and Alex’s body transformation was too strong. David woke up early and went out to buy a large amount of food. He returned to the dorm with several bags full of fast food, cake, and sodas. Alex, still in bed, watched with curious and eager eyes as David placed the food on the desk. The aroma of burgers, fries, pizzas, and desserts made his stomach growl with hunger. David approached the bed with a slice of pizza in hand and held it in front of Alex’s lips.

“Today, we’re going to make sure that fat keeps piling on,” he said with a seductive smile.

Alex opened his mouth and bit into the pizza, tasting the greasy cheese. While Alex ate, David sat beside him, caressing his rounded belly. It wobbled when he shook it. On the other hand, his love handles were so irresistible that David couldn’t stop touching them either.

“You’re so fat, Alex. I love how all this jiggly fat moves,” David said in a low, desire-filled voice.

His hands roamed over every roll, every fold, admiring how Alex’s body had transformed. Alex, with his mouth full, could only moan with pleasure. David’s touch and words of admiration made him feel incredibly sexy. He continued devouring slice after slice, all of them offered by his roommate. David leaned in and began kissing Alex’s belly.

“Will you get even fatter for me?” he asked, looking up to meet Alex’s eyes.

“Yes,” Alex replied, his voice trembling with excitement.

David smiled and pulled down Alex’s pre-cum-soaked underwear, revealing his member. As he finished the pizza, David began to jerk him off slowly, his hands moving skillfully. Alex shivered with pleasure, feeling his body become increasingly sensitive to David’s fingers. His belly bounced slightly with each stroke, as did his nipples. David watched Alex with fascination. He couldn’t resist any longer. He turned Alex over and positioned himself behind him, lowering his own pants and underwear.

“I’m going to fuck you, Alex. And while I do, I want you to eat this burger,” he said, bringing it close to his mouth.

Alex grunted in agreement. David slid his cock into Alex with one hand and pushed the burger towards his mouth with the other, making him eat while he thrust. They quickly reached climax.

The first exams finally came to an end, and the accumulated stress from weeks of studying dissipated. One day, David had the idea to buy a scale. He returned to the dorm with a smile. Alex, who had spent the last few months enjoying the food David fed him, was lying in bed, engrossed in a series.

“Alex, come here,” David called with a mischievous grin on his lips.

Alex got up with some effort, his body clearly more voluminous and heavy. He approached David, who placed the scale in the center of the room.

“It’s time to see how much you’ve grown,” David said, his voice filled with anticipation.

Alex stepped on the scale, and they both watched as the numbers stabilized.

“209 pounds,” David read aloud. “Damn, you’ve gained 55 pounds.”

Alex looked at David and noticed his crotch. Without saying a word, he knelt in front of him, lowered his pants, and started sucking his cock. David moaned, his hands burying in Alex’s hair as he took him deeply into his mouth. The sight of a fatter Alex, dedicated to pleasuring him, drove him wild.

“Yes, Alex, keep going,” he said, trembling with pleasure.

Alex sucked him fervently, enjoying the power he had to arouse David. David’s cock was rock hard, and every moan he made encouraged Alex to continue. David couldn’t hold back any longer. He lifted Alex and pushed him onto the bed.

“What an ass,” David whispered, lowering his extremely tight briefs and giving him a smack.

He entered him slowly, savoring every second.

“You’ve gotten so fat for me...” he said as he began to move.

Alex moaned, feeling the pressure and pleasure mix in his body.

“Yes, David, and I love being like this for you,” he responded, moving in sync with David’s thrusts.

David increased the pace, his hands firmly gripping Alex’s love handles.

“You’re so sexy, so... obese,” he murmured.

They both reached orgasm simultaneously, their bodies shaking in unison. After coming, David collapsed on top of Alex, panting and sweaty. A few seconds later, he rolled off and lay next to him.

“David,” Alex began, turning to look him in the eyes, “I have something to confess. I want both of us to get fat. I’d like to see you with some extra pounds.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You’re into fat, it’s obvious. Don’t you wonder what it would feel like on your own body?”

“Well, I am curious, yes.”

“I think we should start this Christmas break. We’ll stay here on campus, and we can spend it eating and enjoying ourselves.”

David smiled, his face lighting up with the same excitement Alex felt.

“We can give it a go.”

They looked at each other with a mix of love and lust, knowing that the path they had chosen together would be full of pleasure and discoveries. And so, with a new determination, they prepared for the next chapter of their shared story, ready to see how far they could go.

Part three

Christmas vacation was coming to an end, and for Alex and David, those days had been a complete transformation. Not just in their bodies, but in their relationship. Ever since Alex had confessed his desire for both of them to gain weight together, they had dedicated every moment to fulfilling it. Every morning, they ordered huge breakfasts for delivery: piles of pancakes covered in butter and maple syrup, sausages, eggs, and calorie-rich milkshakes. At noon, they took turns going out for fast food, which consisted of burgers, pizzas, and huge servings of fries. And dinner was always a feast, with endless desserts. They ate, laughed, and shared caresses as their bodies expanded day by day.

The result of those weeks of indulgence was undeniable. Alex, who had started with a chubby body, had gained even more weight. His belly now spilled over the waistband of his pants, soft and rounded. His thighs rubbed against each other. And his naturally perky butt now projected with additional volume, making it very prominent. David, on the other hand, had begun his transformation with a more muscular body. But the constant intake of food and the temporary abandonment of the gym had added pounds in a distributed manner. His navel, deep as it was, got lost in a belly that was beginning to round out. His large nipples seemed more prominent under the soft fabric of his tight shirts, and his hips and thighs had acquired a layer of fat that gave him a more voluptuous contour. His butt, always firm, now had a softness that made it jiggle slightly when he moved.

It was a Sunday afternoon when they decided to face the results of their dedication. They looked at each other, their eyes full of complicity and desire, and headed to the scale. Alex went first.

“231 pounds,” David announced triumphantly. “You’ve gained another 22 pounds this vacation.”

Alex smiled, feeling pride and excitement. He stepped off the scale and gestured for David to take his place. David stepped up and waited for the numbers to stabilize.

“201 pounds,” read Alex. “You’ve gained almost 44 pounds. How is that possible?”

Without a word, they removed their underwear, which was uncomfortably tight around their waists and butts.

“I love how you look,” murmured David, approaching Alex and sliding a hand over his belly.

“And I love how you’ve gotten,” Alex responded, his hands running down David’s sides.

They celebrated with a kiss what they had created together and David led Alex to the bed.

“I’m going to give you all the pleasure you deserve,” David whispered. “Every pound you’ve gained is because of me, and that drives me crazy.”

His lips kissed Alex’s neck while his fingers played with his nipples. Alex moaned, his hands finding David’s nipples, pinching them gently and enjoying the reaction it provoked.

“And every pound you’ve gained is because of me,” Alex replied.

David smiled, embracing Alex, whose cock was hard and dripping.

“Let’s eat a bit more,” David suggested, reaching for a chocolate cake cut into generous slices that he had left on his desk the day before. “I want to watch you devour this while I fuck you.”

Alex turned around, his breath quickening with anticipation. As David slowly penetrated him, he began eating the slices, one after another, each bite filling him with both food and pleasure. His moans filled the room as David moved inside him, whispering, 'You’re so obese' and 'I love your fat ass.' Alex asked David to eat some cake too, and David obeyed. They finished the whole thing quickly. When they climaxed, David collapsed on Alex, both covered in crumbs.

“Let’s keep this up,” Alex murmured, his voice barely audible. “Let’s get even fatter.”

David nodded, kissing Alex’s forehead.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, waking Alex and David. They stretched in their beds, feeling the additional weight of their bodies after a holiday of indulgence. They looked at each other and laughed, knowing they would have to face the reality of their new sizes today.

“We should try on our school clothes before classes resume,” David said, getting out of bed. “I doubt anything other than a couple of big t-shirts and sweatpants will fit.”

Alex felt a mix of nervousness and excitement at the thought of how his clothes would fit his new curves. They started searching through their closets. David was the first to try on a shirt. It was one of his favorites, black, which used to fit him perfectly. Now, as he slid it over his torso, the fabric stretched noticeably over his belly, and his bulging nipples were more prominent than ever.

“It looks ridiculous on me,” David said, looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and then at Alex.

Alex couldn’t help but bite his lower lip at such a display of David’s weight gain.

“You look like a cow! Let me try,” he said, pulling out some stretchy jeans.

He pulled them up over his wide thighs with difficulty.

“Ugh! I can’t button them,” he commented, turning to see the fabric stretching dangerously over his hips.

David watched as Alex’s unbuttoned pants didn’t cover his butt, accentuating its new roundness.

“You’re the cow. Those seams are going to burst any moment,” David teased.

They continued trying on different clothes, laughing and making erotic comments. It was clear they needed new clothes.

They left their dorm dressed poorly and walked to the nearest store. Every step made their bodies move enticingly: their bellies jiggled slightly, and their butts swayed sensually.

They returned to their dorm having acquired several large pieces of clothing, including underwear, turned on by the sights in the changing rooms.

“Today, I realized how truly fat we are,” David said, touching Alex’s belly and feeling the softness under his fingers.

“I know,” Alex said, grabbing David’s tits.

The room filled with whispers, caresses, and moans, every movement a promise of pleasure.

The first day of classes after the holidays went by somewhat normally for Alex and David. They got up early, dressed in their new clothes, and attended classes. Everyone commented on how much weight they had gained over Christmas, but they just shrugged. After the morning classes, they headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Even though the food was healthy, they ate way too much.

They lay down in their beds back in their dorm room.

“Should we go back to the gym?” Alex asked, though without much conviction.

David looked at him and smiled.

“I’d rather order a pizza and keep enjoying this,” he said, slapping his own belly.

Alex laughed and nodded.

“That sounds better. But pizza? We just ate.”

They decided to play a little prank. They put on the smallest underwear they had, ones they hadn’t thrown away on purpose. The elastic waistband dug into their flesh and shamelessly showed their ass cracks.

“Let’s see the pizza guy's reaction,” David said, adjusting his underwear and admiring his reflection in the mirror.

Soon the doorbell rang. David opened the door, revealing his barely covered body in his briefs. Alex approached as well, both of them shamelessly showing off. The pizza guy stood there, mouth open, unable to avoid staring at their exposed roundness.

“Here... here’s your pizza,” he said in a trembling voice, handing over the boxes.

“Thanks,” Alex said, taking the pizza and turning around.

They burst into laughter as they closed the door.

“He looked at us like we were monsters!” David said.

“That was incredible!” Alex added.

They took off their underwear, sat on Alex’s bed, opened the box, and started devouring the pizza. Every bite was a mix of pleasure and lust.

“Look how fat you are,” David mumbled.

“And what about you? Fat pig,” Alex responded.

Desire grew between them, and as they continued chewing, they touched and masturbated each other. The insults about their obesity took them to new levels of excitement. They were trapped in a cycle of pleasure and fatness, and both knew there was no going back.

Final part

After months of classes, spring break, final exams, much indulgence, and endless sessions of pleasure, the school year was almost over. Alex and David woke up one morning feeling the weight of their bodies, the result of their voracious appetite and constant desire to gain weight.

David opened his eyes first, his hand brushing the expanse of his belly before getting out of bed. His body moved with noticeable effort. The lard on his abdomen spilled over in several folds. His large, dark nipples stood out on his soft chest, surrounded by a mass of flesh that jiggled with every movement. His arms, once firm and toned, were now thick and full. He looked down at his legs. His thighs had widened considerably, and his calves were filled with fat. The most unexpected change was his butt. His glutes had expanded enormously, each fat and rounded cheek bouncing slightly as he walked. His hips had also widened, giving him a more voluptuous shape.

“Alex, are you awake? Let’s weigh ourselves, fatso. It’s time,” David mumbled sleepily.

Alex got out of bed. His body wasn’t far behind in changes. His abs, once firm and defined, had disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His belly hung over the waistband of his XL briefs, creating a roundness that swayed with every movement. His nipples were also larger. As for his arms, they were surrounded by a layer of fat that gave them a soft appearance. His thighs had grown considerably, as had his calves, and his glutes, once firm and perky, were now even bigger and rounder than David’s, a tempting sight with every step he took.

They headed together to the scale. David stepped on first, watching the numbers rapidly rise until they stopped at 326 pounds.

“Holy crap! 326 pounds,” he said with a mix of amazement and excitement.

Then it was Alex’s turn. He stepped on the scale. The numbers climbed until they stopped at 313 pounds.

“313 pounds,” Alex said proudly and worriedly.

David approached Alex to caress his enormous butt, his hands sinking into the soft, overflowing flesh. He squeezed the cheeks lightly, making them jiggle like jelly. Alex's hands roamed David’s soft belly to feel every inch of fat. Then his fingers played with David’s salami-sized nipples, which instantly hardened. They looked at each other intensely. It had totally gotten out of hand. What would their families say when they saw them in the summer?

“David, I love you.”

“I love you too, Alex.”

[thewalkingalive19]

Maybe the closest a story has gotten to dreams I’ve had of ideal gaining situations

[andopandor-deactivated20251216]

Rebound/Be Round

A gay gainer story

---

"He's fucking shallow. Fuck him," Emmett mutters to himself as he downs yet another beer.

The bartender watches the dejected university student sympathetically from behind the counter. With his job, you learn to recognize the characteristic signs of heartbreak. Emmett is a young man of average height, with brown eyes and a bit of a beer belly. Handsome, if a bit disheveled at the moment. At Emmett's request, the bartender dutifully brings another pint.

Emmett gratefully accepts the drink and glances around the bar, hoping that nobody he knows will see him like this. He sees a tall, broad-shouldered man around his age sitting in the corner, messy brown hair and a day's worth of stubble on his jawline. Emmett tries to figure out why the man looks so familiar...

---

Across the room, Jack is drinking after a long day on the construction site. It's Friday, and payday, and he's taken the opportunity to get a little drunk. He looks up and notices a man staring at him from the barstools. Jack also needs a moment before realizing it's Emmett, his best friend from high school. He'd grown some facial hair and a bit chubbier, but he had the same warm eyes and cute face.

Jack stands and finds his way through the crowded bar. When he finally reaches the counter, he smiles widely. "Hey buddy! It's been way too long," he says. "How's life treating you these days? Still studying engineering?"

They had gone separate ways after high school, when Emmett left town for university while Jack continued into trades. They'd kept in touch on social media, but only barely.

Emmett sighs, a sadness in his eyes that's unfamiliar to Jack. "Oh, you know, same old, same old," he says, half-heartedly returning Jack's smile. "Just been buried in textbooks and papers lately." He gestures vaguely at the bar and the beer in front of him. "Needed a break, I guess."

Jack leans in, looking concerned. "Hey, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I mean, I know it's been a while since we've chatted, but you're still my oldest friend. What's really going on?"

Emmett glances around the bar before finally meeting Jack's eyes. "It's just... things with Mark. He broke up with me."

"Oh," Jack says, surprised. "I'm so sorry to hear that, man. When did that happen?"

Emmett shrugs, looking down at his beer. "A couple of days ago. I thought things were going well, but yeah, no. He was seeing someone else behind my back."

Jack winces. "No way man. You're smart, attractive, funny... He's seriously giving up on the perfect man."

"It's just... he said..." Emmett hesitates, but Jack encourages him to continue. "It's just he said I was gaining too much weight." He takes a long sip of beer, trying to push the emotions back down. "I mean, I know I've put on a few pounds since first year, but come on. I've always been a bigger guy. It's not like I've changed as a person."

Jack's face darkens. "What a piece of shit. You deserve so much better." He puts a hand on Emmett's shoulder. "You know I've got your back, buddy, right?" He looks at his friend thoughtfully, trying to find the right words to comfort him. "Besides, the weight... looks good on you," he finally says, blurting out the words without quite meaning to. "You've always been bigger than the average guy, and it's, uh, it's attractive." He flushes. "I mean, not that I'm into, you know... just... never mind."

Emmett looks up at Jack, slightly confused. He searches Jack's face for any sign of insincerity, but there is none. "Thanks Jack, I appreciate it," he says, eager to move past the awkward moment. "It's just been tough lately, you know?" He takes another sip of beer. "But it's nice to have someone to talk to about it."

Jack nods, thinking. "Hey, I know it's late, but do you maybe wanna grab dinner? We have a lot to catch up on. Besides, you shouldn't be drinking alone at a time like this." He gives Emmett a reassuring smile. "My treat."

"Sure, dinner sounds great... I am getting hungry. Thanks, Jack."

"Great! There's an amazing Italian restaurant just down the block."

They both finish their beers and head out into the cool evening. As they walk to the restaurant, Emmett already begins to look a bit more cheerful. Jack steals sidelong glances at his old friend. He would never say it out loud, but Emmett does seem a lot thicker than he was at their graduation.

---

The Italian restaurant is bustling with activity, the scent of olive oil and garlic filling the air. The men find their way to a cozy booth in the back and glance over the menu, considering what to order. Emmett's stomach rumbles as he reads. Jack pretends not to notice, but assures Emmett that he can order whatever he wants - it's payday after all.

But when the waiter arrives, Emmett only orders a side salad. Finding this strange, Jack orders the Chef's Special, which includes three different kinds of pasta and nearly half a loaf of garlic bread.

Emmett seems shocked by the size of the order. "You sure you can handle all that, Jack?" he asks with a chuckle.

Jack only grins. "Oh, I've got a big appetite tonight, Emmett. And I figure if I don't finish, I can ask a friend for help."

As they wait for their food, they continue to talk and catch up, laughing and teasing each other like old times. For both of them, it had been a long time since they felt this comfortable around someone. Jack hadn't realized how much he had missed Emmett.

Halfway through his meal, Jack pushes his plate away, unable to eat another bite. Emmett had finished his salad long ago. He looks longingly at Jack's plate, still piled with food.

Jack laughs. "Please, help yourself! I'm finished."

Emmett gratefully pull's Jack's plate over, beginning to dig into the delicious pasta. "Thanks Jack," he says between bites. "I haven't been eating much since... well, the breakup. But this food is really good."

Jack leans back in the booth, watching Emmett eat with a satisfied smile. "No worries, buddy. You don't want to waste away just because of that jerk. You deserve to have a proper meal and to feel good about yourself again."

Emmett shrugs, but continues devouring the pasta.

"You know," Jack says, then hesitates. He never would say this sober. But he's not. "I think you're perfect just the way you are. And I'm not just saying that because of what Mark said. One of these days you'll meet someone who appreciates you for you."

Emmett looks up from his food, giving Jack a skeptical look. "Maybe," he admits, "but I doubt it." He sighs. "I mean you're like the only one who thinks that. Too bad you're straight..."

Jack looks into Emmett's eyes, considering. The noise of the restaurant around him fades away.

"Actually," he says, taking a deep breath. "I'm bisexual."

Emmett pauses mid-chew. "Really??"

Jack nods, swallowing hard. "I've never really told anyone. But... you've been honest with me and I wanted to be honest with you." He gently touching Emmett's hand. "I know you're still getting over Mark, and if you're not interested, that's okay. But I just wanted to tell you."

Emmett stares at their joined hands for a long moment, then up at Jack eyes. "I mean..." he trails off, trying to process this information. "I mean I've kind of always had a crush on you , you know."

Jack smiles shyly. He leans in closer. "And I mean it when I say you've gotten so much hotter since we graduated," he says, glancing down at Emmett's belly. "It's really fucking sexy actually."

Emmett feels a blush creep up his neck. He searches Jack's eyes, finding only honesty and desire. He takes a shuddering breath. "You really mean that?" he whispers.

"I really do," Jack says, his voice low and husky. "You're so gorgeous, Emmett. And I've kind of been fantasizing about something." He leans in even closer, whispering. "I wanna feed you."

Emmett nods slowly, strangely excited by Jack's desires. He had always been concerned with keeping thin, but now... a thrill runs through him. "You'd... you'd want to do that? You'd like me.. that way?"

"Yeah," Jack says, touching Emmett's thigh under the table. "I want to see you eat, to see you grow."

Emmett swallows hard, feeling heat pooling in his groin. "Okay," he breathes. "Okay, let's do it." He takes in the surroundings, trying to compose himself. "But c'mon Jack, not now. We're in public."

Jack laughs. "Fine," he says, leaning back. "My place is just a few blocks from here."

---

After Jack settles the bill, Emmett follows Jack back to his apartment. The warmth inside him abates the cold night air. The pasta settles comfortably in his belly, and, for the first time, he isn't worried that he's eaten too much. As they step into Jack's living room, he can't help but notice how it's much cozier than Mark's bleak minimalist apartment.

Jack turns to face Emmett. "So," he says, noticeably excited, "are you ready to eat?"

Jack has never really cooked for another man before, but he's eager to show off his culinary skills. He fries up some bacon and creamy chicken with mashed potatoes. He also throws a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, for good measure. The aromas fill the air, making Emmett's mouth water in anticipation.

"There you go," Jack says, placing a plate in front of Emmett and sitting down across from him.

"Uh... can I get a fork?" Emmett asks.

Jack smirks. "No. That's my job." He uses his own fork to scoop up some food from the plate. "Open wide."

Emmett dutifully opens his mouth and takes a bite of bacon, savoring the taste. It's very tasty, and he can't help but feel pleased knowing that Jack prepared this meal just for him. "This is amazing," he manages to mumble between mouthfuls.

Jack beams. "I'm glad you're enjoying it." He continues to feed Emmett as the chubby man rubs his belly contentedly.

Many bites later, Emmett moans. "Okay, I'm stuffed. I really couldn't eat anymore."

Jack coaxes another scoop of mashed potato in Emmett's mouth. "Are you sure?"

"Seriously," Emmett groans with his mouth full. He pats his bloated stomach. "I'm packed ."

Jack nods. "Okay, fine," he says reluctantly. "You can go lie down on the couch to digest. I'll join you in a minute."

Emmett stumbles into the living room, feeling rounder and heavier than he's ever been. He collapses into the soft couch, stomach aching but satisfied. He releases a belch and massages his belly, unbuttoning his jeans to give it some more room.

Several minutes pass, and Emmett begins to wonder where Jack is. Soon enough, the brawny man comes into the room with a tray of fresh cookies. "I hope you have room for dessert," he smirks.

Emmett knows he shouldn't but... they look and smell so good. "Ughhh," he groans. "Just one, okay?"

Jack settles beside Emmett. God, he looks big, sprawled out on the couch like this. Jack massages the man's hairy belly where it peeks out from above his jeans. With his other hand, Jack gently touches a cookie against Emmett's lips.

Emmett savours the warm soft dough on his tongue. "Alright, this is fucking delicious," he sighs.

"Thanks," Jack smiles. "You know, I just... like taking care of you." He glances up at Emmett and brushes a crumb out of his beard. "I never want to stop caring for you."

Emmett's heart skips a beat. "I don't want you to, Jack," he whispers. He reaches out, tracing a finger along Jack's jawline.

Jack closes his eyes, leaning into Emmett's touch. "Good," he breathes, his voice low and husky. "Because I want to do so much more than just feed you."

Jack moves his hand down the trail of hair leading towards Emmett's crotch, feeling Emmett's dick grow hard against his belly. They lean closer to each other, their lips mere inches apart.

"Show me." Emmett whispers.

The men's lips lock in a heated kiss, desperate from years of pent-up desire. Their bodies press against each other, Jack's sculpted by manual labour and Emmett's swollen with beer and high-calorie food. Jack's hands roam up and down Emmett's shirt, grabbing his lovehandles and playing with his bellybutton.

Emmett moans against Jack's lips, feeling new sensitivity in his engorged gut. Every inch of him tingles with pleasure as Jack's hands explore his figure.

Jack pulls away from the kiss for a moment, panting heavily as he gazes at Emmett's enlarged stomach. He undoes the buttons of Emmett's shirt and tosses it aside. His fingers are cool against heated skin as they trace circles around his navel. And then lower, down the curve of his belly.

"God, you're so hot," Jack murmurs, continuing to tease and touch. His fingers venture lower still, wrapping around Emmett's aching erection. Emmett moans deeply as Jack begins to stroke.

"That's it," Jack whispers. "Let me take care of you." Emmett feels Jack's breath hot against his chest as the man begins to kiss his neck, his nipples, his belly button. All the while continuing to stroke Emmett's cock. He feels about to explode.

Just when Emmett thinks he can't take it anymore, Jack lips are back on his lips, Jack's eyes staring deep into his.

"Cum for me," Jack whispers. Emmett reaches orgasm and shoots over his bloated belly.

Emmett collapses back against the couch, spent and satisfied. He sighs. "That was... amazing."

Jack kisses Emmett again. "We're not done yet."

"We're not?"

Jack laughs. "There are still eleven cookies left."

[thewalkingalive19]

Incredibly hot story!

[thegainingdesk]

Two Night Stand

Just as Howard had guessed, the young man was loitering in the changing rooms when he entered. He'd seen the slim man watching him his entire set, changing from treadmill to elliptical to standing bike to keep a clear eyeline to Howard at all times.

Howard wasn't surprised, exactly. He'd found that he attracted more than a fair few men as he'd put on weight these past few years, and the gym was the perfect place to show off his developing figure. He couldn't exactly boast a powerlifter build, per se, but he had enough muscle underneath all the fat that he could show off how much weight he could lift, and enough to keep most of his fat in a firm, round gut at his center with comparatively less flab elsewhere on his body. Coupled with a thick dark beard and a thick pelt of coarse body hair, he often had twinks lining up for the opportunity to call him ‘daddy’; not something he was thrilled about at the grand age of thirty-four, but also not something he was in a rush to correct anyone wanting to fuck him over.

Howard made a show of getting changed and faced out into the changing rooms towards the young man, giving him a clear view of the spectacle. He lifted his shirt up slowly, allowing the hem to drag itself up over the curve of his gut, revealing the dark swirls of hair covering the mound of fat and his deep belly button. Once the shirt slid off his gut and Howard pulled it over his head, he looked over to see the man looking directly at him. He winked and the man hurriedly looked away; Howard made sure to maintain eye-contact, making sure to catch him each time he gave another quick glance. Howard reached down and hefted his gut a few times before reaching down further and giving his package a squeeze; that caught the man's attention alright, and this time he held his gaze, staring intently at Howard's gut.

“Not getting changed yourself then?” Howard called across the changing room.

The young man swallowed hard, before lifting up his shirt to reveal a tight, thin torso, with the faint outline of a six pack and a fine dusting of hair. He was about Howard's height, just slightly shorter than average, but more wiry than Howard had ever been, with prominent ribs and collar bones, and a prominent Adam's apple. Despite his short height, he was so thin he almost looked lanky. He was handsome, Howard thought; dark blond hair, a crooked smile and a nose that looked like it had been broken and not set properly at some point. “Just catching my breath,” the man replied.

Howard smirked and bent to pull down his shorts. He tried to make it sexy, but honestly, these days it was a struggle just to bend down around his gut and his shorts caught on his thick thighs, making him shimmy them down unceremoniously. By the time he stood back up, panting softly, the young man’s long erection was tenting his own shorts obviously.

Howard reached down and adjusted his balls in his boxers, partly for show, partly genuinely for comfort. “Fancy joining me in the showers?” he said casually. “I’m finding I've been getting really sweaty recently.” He felt himself growing hard. He knew he'd lost a few inches to his expanding fat pad, and he'd not been able to see his own cock under his gut for years, but he knew he still boasted an impressive manhood.

“I uhh… okay.” The man's voice came out high-pitched and strained. He coughed and tried again, deeper this time. “Yes, I mean. I'd like that.”

“I'm Howard,” Howard introduced himself as he walked past the man and around the corner to the showers.

“Guy,” the man answered. Howard could hear him follow behind him obediently.

“Nice to meet you Guy,” Howard said, turning on one of the shower heads and pulling his pants off. He handed them to Guy, who held them, dumbstruck for a moment, before lifting them up to his face and sniffing deeply. “You like this gut, Guy?”

Guy nodded, not taking Howard's boxers away from his face. His eyes were trained downwards; Howard knew that from this angle, his gut covered his crotch almost entirely, so he must be staring at his fat.

Howard stepped back into the stream of water, and rivulets began to flow over his tits, round his gut, down his rounded thighs and calves. “Would you like to touch this gut, Guy?”

Guy hurried to throw down Howard's boxers and pull his own shorts and underwear down; he was so hard and the motion so fast that his dick slapped up and hit his abs with a soft thwack. He stepped forward and ran his hands across Howard's love handles, squeezing them and using his fingers to dapple the soft skin and the fat underneath. He slipped his fingers beneath, into the crease above Howard's hips, and leant down to place one of Howard's nipples in his mouth, sucking for a few moments.

He pulled away. “You're so…” he began. He leant back in, kissing Howard's neck, his shoulders, his chin. Each kiss was paired with a small poke from Guy's fingers; Howard realised he was searching for pockets of fat around his body.

“Big?” Howard whispered. “Heavy? Wide? Manly?”

“Fat,” Guy finished. “You're so fat.”

Howard chuckled. “And you like that, do you? You like how fat I am?” Guy nodded. “Why don't you show me how much you like it then?” Howard nodded past his gut, down towards his crotch. Guy looked around nervously. “Now you're nervous?” Howard asked. “Don’t worry, most people rush straight off after the gym at this time. Besides, everyone knows this is the gay hookup gym, no-one would bat an eyelash.”

Guy swallowed hard and Howard licked his lips at the sight of his large Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his wiry neck. He looked around once more, nodded nervously, and sunk to his knees. Howard grew even harder as he felt Guy push his fat pad back to reveal more of his length, something he’d only realised men had started doing since he’d hit twenty stone or so. He shuddered slightly as he felt Guy’s warm mouth envelop his hardness for a few seconds, before pulling back and pushing Howard’s soft underbelly away and readjusting his position, trying to find a way to suck Howard off around all of the fat in the way.

Howard leant his head back and moaned. While Guy seemed to be taken by surprise with the practicalities of sucking off a fat man, he clearly had a few tricks up his sleeve, and enough enthusiasm to make up for it. Within a few minutes he was near climax and began to thrust himself into Guy’s mouth, who made some satisfying grunts of discomfort in response.

Just as Howard began to cum, pumping his load down Guy’s pretty throat, someone walked into the shower and the younger man jumped back so that the rest of Howard's cum sprayed across his chest and dribbled down his chin. Guy flushed red and turned away towards the wall, frantically wiping away the splatters of semen.

“Don't mind me,” Charlton, one of the gym's regulars, said as he stepped under the shower head on the other side of Howard. “I'd join you, but my husband says I've got to stop fucking people at the gym.” He leant around Howard's mass to peer at Guy’s arse. “How do you get all the cute ones Howie?”

Howard moved over to Guy and cupped his arse, bending down to his knees himself. “How about it?” he asked. “Fancy an audience?”

Guy gave a small shake of his head and continued to scrub at himself. Howard stood back up, bracing against his knees and straining as he did so. He stepped away from Guy and began to wash himself, taking the signal that the younger man had lost interest, for now.

“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Guy said quietly after a while. Howard looked over and grinned as Charlton laughed.

“Just like me to ruin the fun!” Charlton said. He waved his dick over at the two of them. “Howie, you've got my number, let me know if you'd like a third later.”

Howard grabbed Guy’s wrist and led him out the shower. He nudged the small pile of their wet shorts and underwear with his toe. “Grab those,” he told Guy. “We can go to my flat, it's not far.”

Guy struggled to keep his hands off Howard on the short drive and in the lift up to Howard's floor. As he unlocked the door, Guy was already pulling Howard’s t-shirt up and undoing his belt for him, kissing his neck as he did so. Howard pulled him through to the bedroom and pushed him towards the bed, and Guy dutifully began stripping.

Howard kicked his trousers off and pulled a condom out of the drawer by his bedside table. “You're going to have to put it on me,” he told Guy. “Awkward with this thing in the way.” He thumped his gut a few times to illustrate his point. “Unless you want to top?”

Guys tongue practically fell out of his mouth at this, and he hurriedly pulled the condom out of the packet. “No, I'm happy to, you know, or whatever.” He sunk down to his knees and stared up at Howard over the crest of his gut. “It's so hot that you can't put this on yourself.”

“I mean I can,” Howard grumbled. “It's just easier to get someone else to do it.” He felt Guy roll the condom over his shaft and smooth out some air bubbles.

“How do you want me?” Guy asked. He turned towards Howard and stood waiting, his hard-on pulsing slightly.

Howard nodded towards the bed. “On the edge. However’s most comfortable for you.”

Guy climbed onto the bed, stretching his thighs wide to present his hole to Howard. Howard squirted some lube onto his fingers and ran them over Guy’s crack, before slipping a couple of fingers in and massaging for a moment or two. Guy arched his back and sighed.

Howard lined himself up with Guy as best he could, and pushed himself forward. His cock missed the mark and instead bounced painfully off of one of his cheeks. Howard winced. “Sorry,” he said. “Difficult to aim with this thing in the way.” He patted his gut.

“God that's hot,” Guy sighed.

“Glad someone thinks so,” Howard grumbled to himself. Maybe he did need to lose a little weight.

“We could try a different position?” Guy suggested. “Cowboy style, maybe, or it might help if we both lie on our sides?”

“No!” Howard snapped. “No, I can, I can do it,” he said, more calmly. He'd be damned if he’d gotten too fat to top someone properly. He fished under his gut and grabbed his equipment, using his hands to guide himself in. He found his mark and slid in slowly, as Guy moaned softly and pushed back against Howard's crotch.

The two men began to rock in sync, building up a rhythm. Howard's gut slapped into Guy's back, the claps ringing like a metronome. The two began to pick up pace, as Guy arched his back and Howard tried to reach around to grab the smaller man's cock; with his gut in the way, he just couldn't reach. Instead, he gripped Guy’s slender shoulders and put his effort into pumping. He could feel the fat on his arse, his tits, his gut shaking and vibrating and his heart fluttered in his chest as he breathed heavily. He pumped harder and gripped his own fat with one hand, inserting one finger deep into his own bellybutton. He thought about how fat he'd gotten, how much fatter he was sure to get, he thought about the man below him and how much smaller he was than him. His breath caught as he came, and he felt the condom fill up around his pole. Shaking, he rolled off of Guy and onto the bed.

“Did you..?” Howard asked.

Guy shook his head. “It's fine,” he said, panting and smiling. He placed a hand on Howard's gut and shook it. “Plenty of time for that later.”

“What does it feel like?” Guy asked afterwards, with his angular torso pressed into Howard’s broad, soft back and one arm draped across him, a hand slowly caressing his gut.

Howard laughed. “Topping? You never done it before?”

Howard felt Guy shake his head from behind. “No, I've- I mean not very often, but I have, you know- No, I mean, you know,” his hand gripped Howard's gut and shook it a little. “What does this feel like? Being fat?”

Howard laughed again. “You like that, do you?” He slapped his gut a few times, enjoying the feeling of his body rippling. “It's a bloody nuisance, I'll tell you that much.”

“Yeah?” Guy prompted. “How?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, you saw earlier, it's getting difficult to fuck guys in some positions without it getting in the way, difficult to put on condoms easily. You even struggled a bit when you were giving me a blowjob, right?” Guy nodded enthusiastically. “It's even getting difficult to piss standing up.” Howard could feel Guy’s cock hardening against his back.

“Really? Because you can't reach it you mean?” Excitement mounted in Guy’s voice.

“Reaching it's easy enough, it's being able to see that's an issue. Can't aim,” Howard explained.

“What else?” Guy urged Howard on.

“Fuck me, loads. Having to fight against my own body to tie my shoes, getting winded climbing the stairs, clothes not fitting right, not being able to join my mates when they play footy, getting the piss taken out of me by everyone who thinks they're a bloody comedian,” Howard said. By this point, Guy was grinding his hard dick against Howard's leg.

“But you love it?” Guy asked, his voice catching.

“Fuck yes,” Howard replied. “There's something about being big, you know?” Guy gave a small whimper in reply. “In basically any situation, at work, with mates, at the gym, I'm always the biggest one there. Sure, a lot of it's fat, but men always respect the big guy, you know? Like it's primal.”

“How much do you weigh?” Guy asked. He moved to straddle Howard, his hand stroking his cock.

“A little over three hundred pounds,” Howard lied. He was close, but had never actually broken the big three-oh-oh. He'd met enough of these chaser types to know that 300 was the magical number though, and was happy to fudge the numbers to make a twink’s fantasy come true.

“Christ,” Guy gasped. “You're over double my weight.” Within thirty seconds, he tensed up and yelled out as thick hot cum sprayed over Howard's gut, pooling in his belly button and dribbling down its curve onto the sheets.

Guy fell down onto Howard and kissed him, hard jawline bumping into soft. “You're incredible,” he panted. “I could order some pizzas maybe?”

A couple of hours later, three boxes sat on Howard's coffee table, while Howard stretched out on his sofa with one hand down his boxers and one hand cradling his stretched gut. He'd done his best to show off for Guy, and had eaten almost two whole pizzas in quick succession. “Go on,” he told Guy. “Eat up.”

Guy groaned, clutching his flat stomach. He'd just finished a whole pizza by himself - clearly not a feat he was used to. “They're your slices,” he said feebly, nudging the two final slices of Howard's second pizza back to the larger man.

“I want you to have them,” Howard said, pushing them back. “And I think you want to have them too.” Guy shook his head. “You're telling me,” Howard grabbed Guy’s hand and placed it on his gut. “That you don't want one of these of your own?” Guy moaned a little. “That you just want to fuck fat guys? No. You want this for yourself. Eat.”

Guy closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply, and sat forward, grabbing both slices and stacking them together before taking a large bite out of both. “That's it,” Howard whispered. “Good boy. Eat them quick, before your body has a chance to register. Good boy, there we go.”

It took fifteen minutes, and by the end Guy was clearly uncomfortable, rubbing his stomach and suppressing sickly hiccups, but eventually the slices disappeared. He sat quietly, moaning and cradling the invisible curve of his stomach. Once it became clear that he wasn't in a position for conversation, Howard put the TV on and left him to it.

“I should go,” Guy said quietly after two episodes of Doctor Who. He stood and began to pull his t-shirt back on.

“You don't have to,” Howard said, making no move to stop him. “You could stay the night, if you wanted.”

“No, it's late,” Guy said. “I was supposed to meet up with some friends.” He winced as he buttoned his jeans. “Maybe we could do this again sometime though?”

Howard sighed. He never really did ‘again’. “Maybe,” he said. “I uh, I'm only in Portsmouth for a few months for a work thing, I probably won't be uhh…”

“No, it's fine, I get it,” Guy said with a thin smile. “It's fine if this is just a one-time thing. Thanks for umm,” he looked over Howard's body, still laid out across the sofa, his gut overlapping his too-tight pants. “You've helped me figure some stuff out. Thank you.”

Howard heaved himself to his feet and stuck his hand out. “Always happy to figure some stuff out with someone,” he said. Guy took Howard's offered hand and shook it. “All the best Guy.”

“You too.”

The door closed and Howard collapsed back down onto the sofa. 

-

Howard groaned as he lowered himself into the seat, grateful for the easing of the pressure on his feet. He closed his eyes and just sat for a moment, breathing just a little too heavily for his liking. Ever since he'd crossed the 300 pound mark almost a decade ago, he'd been eagerly eyeing up 350, but he was starting to worry that it might have been just a little too much weight for him. He was just so big these days, and at more than a little ways past forty, he was starting to think that the big leagues, weight-wise, were a young man's game.

He opened his eyes slowly and reached towards the menu. No need to go hungry, anyway, whether or not he wanted to get much bigger, especially with his company footing the bill. A couple of starters, he thought, a big main, maybe one of those steaks, and then some big heavy dessert. That should just about hit the spot. He squeezed his overhang just a touch and sighed. Sitting down, with the dull ache in his feet fading away and his breathing going back to its usual light wheeze, rather than a heavy pant, he started to forget his earlier apprehension, just a few moments before. Being big felt fucking great, didn't it? What difference would another ten or fifteen pounds make, really?

His thoughts were interrupted by a shadow falling across his menu, and he looked up, expecting to see the waiter. What he saw instead was a wall of flesh - a man stood in front of him, outweighing Howard by, god, who knew how much? At least a hundred pounds, maybe even one-fifty. The man's soft gut hung down, almost touching the table, and his arms sat awkwardly at his sides, visibly pushed away from the man's huge, soft torso by gut and tit and roll. He looked like something out of one of Howard's fantasies, a scale he'd fervently imagined himself at, but never really aspired to.

"Howard?" the man asked. "It is Howard isn't it?"

Howard was stumped. He'd remember this man if they'd met, surely? Fantasised about him for weeks afterwards presumably, wistfully thinking back to that human barge he'd met in some business meeting or other?

"I'm so sorry," he said after a while. "I'm really trying to remember…"

"It's Guy," the man - Guy - said. "We met about eleven or twelve years ago." When Howard's face didn't lose its confused stupor he added - "In Portsmouth? I, uhh, look a little different I suppose." He punctuated this last bit by laying his hand on top of his gut.

Howard thought back, he'd not spent long in Portsmouth after all, six months maybe. Had he met a Guy? He looked up at the round face in front of him, subtracted ten years, a couple of chins, tried to imagine cheek bones beneath those jowls, noticed the bent nose that looked like it had been set badly, years before…

"Jesus fuck, Guy, " Howard said softly, his eyes widening. "Twink Guy?" he asked, his voice high. This whale in front of him couldn't have ever been that small fry, could he?

Guy laughed. "Twink Guy, I like that!" he said. "Can't say there's been much call for a nickname like that for a while now though." He smiled at Howard. "Are you waiting for someone? Maybe I could join you?"

Howard made a blustering noise that could be interpreted as a positive, and gestured at the seat opposite him. Guy pulled the chair back, far away from the table edge, and slowly, carefully, deliberately lowered himself down into it. Howard marveled at the practiced routine of it all - how far back the chair needed to go, the care with which the sturdy oak chair needed handling, the way that every movement was slow and deliberate and carefully considered to avoid bumping into anything, everything, around him. Most of all he marveled at how Guy barely seemed to register that any of this was out of the ordinary.

"God, it's good to get off your feet, isn't it," Guy sighed.

Howard studied Guy, trying to remember the rail thin twenty-something year old underneath the blubber. His face was huge, round cheeks bulging over sagging jowls around squinting eyes. His body was enormously broad - tits sloped down a mountainous gut down into his elbows. Even his fingers were fat - stubby little sausages attached to pillow palms.

Guy reached over his belly and picked up the menu, resting it on the shelf of his gut. “Shall we just get one of each of the starters and sides and share?” he asked after a while.

Howard’s eyebrows rose. He looked back at the menu - there was at least ten starters and the same amount of sides. How much was this man planning on eating?

“I'll foot the bill, don't worry” Guy said, misinterpreting Howard's reaction. “The least I can do.” He slapped the top of his gut, setting it swaying. “After all, I've got you to thank for this.”

Howard’s mouth closed and opened a few times. “Sorry, I'm not sure I… You've got me to thank?”

“Oh absolutely!” Guy said, nodding. His double chin shook with the motion.

At that point the waiter arrived, interrupting Guy. They both ordered a pint of ale, Guy ordered all the starters and sides, as he'd said, and Howard ordered the steak.

“God, that sounds good actually. Two of those. Medium-rare, yeah. And we’ll want the dessert menu after. Perfect, yeah, thanks.” Guy turned back to Howard. “Where were we? Yes! Thanking you, that was it.” He leant back, and Howard could see his shirt pulling out of his waistband to reveal a slab of pale flesh hanging out even while sitting. “After we, you know, after that night anyway, I just sort of knew I guess.”

“Knew what?” Howard asked.

“That I wanted to be fat!” Guy said loudly. Howard sank down in his seat as people at other tables looked over. “I mean, I knew before then, I guess, but it was all, I don't know, wanking over YouTube videos and those stupid stories about people getting paid to fatten themselves up or something. I never, god, I never imagined I could really do something like that.”

Their drinks arrived and the two were quiet for a while as they took their first large gulps. “And then you met me,” Howard offered.

“And then I met you!” Guy repeated. “God, the number of fat guys I must have stared at before you.” He laughed. “I thought I was being so subtle, but clearly you noticed pretty quick.”

Howard laughed as well. “Yeah, subtle didn't really come to mind,” he said. “I thought you were cruising, honestly. You were actually doing that to any fat guy you saw? Just, down the street?”

“Christ yes,” Guy laughed. “They must have all thought I was a creep.”

At that point, the first of the starters arrived. Guy fell quiet as he focussed on eating. Howard could see how he's gotten so large - eating was clearly serious business to this man. Each bite was relished, with time taken to enjoy the flavours, but no time was wasted - as soon as one bite was swallowed, more food would immediately be brought to his lips.

After the starters and while they waited for their mains, Guy spoke. “You know, I always imagined how much weight you were putting on,” he told Howard. “And I always sort of, I don't know, compared myself to the image of you I had in my head. Especially once I reached three hundred pounds, and I was so much softer than I remember you being, and then when I hit three-hundred and fifty, four hundred, and I thought, god, when did he hit these weights? How much bigger did he get? And I started to imagine, you know, we'd meet at some point and I'd have managed to get, I don't know, ten, twenty pounds bigger. And it'd be, god this is so stupid saying it out loud, like you'd passed the torch on or something. Honestly, it's a big reason I've been pushing myself to still get bigger and bigger.”

“Sorry to be a disappointment,” Howard said, rubbing his gut. He'd done his best to eat half of the food on the table, and while not full, he could feel himself slowing down; in comparison, Guy seemed to be impatiently waiting for more food. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so small.

“God, no!” Guy said. “I don’t mean, no, I'm not disappointed or anything. I do know, you know, that I've kind of taken this whole gaining thing further than most people are into. I never really, honestly I mean, thought I'd meet you again or whatever. It was always just something knocking around in the back of my head. I didn't even really know that you were a gainer, you might have lost it all for all I- fuck, sorry, I don't even- are you even a gainer? I just assumed.”

Howard waved his hand. “Don't worry, yeah, I… well. I mean, fifty pounds in ten years, it's hardly the kind of weight you've been putting on. But yeah, I'm on all the sites and stuff.”

“Hey, anyone else would be pulling their hair out over fifty pounds,” Guy said. “Us guys just have a skewed perspective about this stuff.”

Howard shrugged. “I guess. Sometimes I feel like I'm not making progress and sometimes I really look at myself and see just how big I am.”

“How big are you, if you don't mind me asking?” Guy asked.

“Three-sixty-something these days,” Howard said. “Probably a little more - lots of business trips. And you?”

“Just hit five hundred a couple of weeks ago,” Guy replied proudly. “Hit a bit of a plateau since, but it's great finally getting there, you know?”

Howard gave a low whistle. “That's a big boy number right there.” Guy laughed. “You're going for those kinds of weights then? Five-hundred plus?”

Guy grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically. “It's all I think about,” he said. “The more weight I put on, the more I want to put on. It's like, okay, when we first met that time, right? I got all excited and I decided I could put on, I don't know, twenty pounds, see how that felt. And it was nothing. So I thought, okay, fifty pounds, and then I'd put on fifty pounds and I was starting to feel chubby but…”

“It wasn't as big as you'd thought it would be?” Howard asked.

“God, not nearly anything like it,” Guy agreed. “Like, fifty pounds you know? That's a lot of weight! And it just didn't look like it. So I went up to two-hundred and fifty, and that wasn't enough, then three hundred, and I thought, surely, surely three hundred’s where you start to feel big. And that's how big you were! I fucked other big guys, don't get me wrong, but you were the first - I built you up into a bit of myth in my head I think.”

“I'm flattered,” Howard said.

“Well, I got to three-hundred pounds, as big as Howard, and it still wasn't big enough,” Guy continued. “So I added another fifty, and that wasn't enough, and another, and four-hundred still didn't feel big enough.” He sighed. “You never feel like that?”

Howard spread his hands on the table and studied them for a while. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Not often. I do feel big, most of the time. Big enough. But every so often I catch a glimpse of myself and I just think… is this really twenty-five stone? Surely I should be huge by now? When I was younger I couldn't imagine how big that must be and now…”

“Now it's just the size you are,” Guy finished. “It's normal.”

Howard nodded as their mains got brought over. Howard tried to hide his nervousness at the size of the portion; chips were piled high next to a steak as big as his face and over an inch thick. Guy licked his lips and started eating immediately, stopping only when the sides got brought over.

It took nearly two hours for Howard to get through his steak, sides and the selection of desserts Guy had ordered. Guy watched him, having finished long before, occasionally offering words of encouragement, but generally just filling Howard in on his life; the company he'd started, the relationships with increasingly larger men who were just never big enough, the years and years of gluttony and sloth that had built him into the man Howard saw before him.

Howard leant back and drummed his fingers on his gut. It has been a while since he'd felt it so taut, and the sensation left him rock hard. He opened one eye and watched Guy for a while.

“I've got a room upstairs,” Howard said after a while. “If you wanted to…?”

Guy smiled. “I thought you said you were married now.”

“We’re open,” Howard reassured him. “I spend a lot of time away with work and we both know that we’ll be better off if we get to relieve some tension every so often.”

“Well then,” Guy said with raised eyebrows. “Shall we?”

They both stood, Howard feeling particularly spritely for the first time in a while; he found himself waiting for Guy to haul himself to his feet. The two made their way slowly to the elevator, which sunk noticeably as the two men entered.

As the doors closed, Guy reached over and put a hand on Howard's love handle and squeezed. “Just like I remember,” he said with a smile.

“Hopefully a little bigger?” Howard said.

“Don't worry,” Guy said. “I can see all the progress you've made. But it's that same solid ball gut I've been having wet dreams about for the past decade.” He slapped it a few times, resulting in a dull thump. He slid a finger through a gap between the buttons in Howard’s shirt and stroked the furry skin around his belly button.

The elevator door opened, and the two made their way to Howard's hotel room. Howard let them in and Guy made his slow way over to the bed and gingerly sat down. Howard stood in front of him and let his gut bump into Guy's face, who reached up and began to unbutton Howard's shirt for him.

“Oh yes,” Guy said. “I've missed this a lot.” He ran his fingers through the hair on Howard's gut and up onto his soft chest as Howard pulled off his jacket and shirt and threw them to the side. Guy leant forward and nuzzled his nose into Howard's belly button, before replacing it with his tongue as he worked his fingers under Howard's overhang to undo his belt and pull his trousers down.

Guy lifted Howard's gut slightly, and deftly pushed the fat back slightly to reveal more of his hardening cock. “This is bigger than I remember,” he said.

“My cock?” Howard asked. “Really?”

Guy laughed. “Sorry, no. I meant your fat pad.”

“Ah,” Howard said. “Suppose that would be a bit too much to ask for.”

“I personally have come to enjoy the effects of fat on a man's cock,” Guy said.

“Not one I'm particularly thrilled with myself,” Howard grumbled.

“Well maybe I can make it up to you,” Guy said, before slipping his mouth over Howard's dick.

Howard's breath caught. The key to giving a good blowjob, Howard had learnt over the years, is to really, truly, genuinely want that dick in your mouth, and Guy was clearly hungry for it. No opportunity was missed to taste or lick or suck on any and all exposed skin. His balls, his shaft, his head, his taint, all of it was lovingly cared for in turn. It wasn't long before Howard was shooting down Guy's throat.

Guy sat back and smiled as he swallowed. Howard thought back to how prominent his Adam’s apple used to be - it was now barely visible in his lardy neck.

Howard sank down to his knees, and lifted Guy’s gut to gain access to his belt buckle. As he undid his trousers, Guy pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing soft, undulating flesh. Together, the two slowly managed to peel Guy’s clothes off of his body until he was sat in only his socks.

Howard once more lifted Guy’s gut and pushed back at the soft fat filling his crotch, unveiling the nub of his cock. He leant forward to lick the exposed head, but quickly had to pull back as his face became enveloped with fat from above.

“You don't have to,” Guy said. “I know that it's not easy to-”

“Lean back,” Howard said, pushing back on Guy’s torso. “And hold your belly.”

Guy obeyed, laying down on the bed so that his flab cascaded back towards his face. Howard pushed down on his fat pad, revealing another inch or so of cock. As Howard took it into his mouth, licking its meager length and the small scrotum, he thought back to the long cock Guy had the last time they'd met, now swallowed on thick fat.

Howard inhaled deeply, taking in the sour musk of Guy’s crotch and continued to lap at the small length available to him. He began to pump the fat surrounding his cock, using it to jerk the length he couldn't see. The wall of fat above him began to shake and quiver, until sticky cum spurted out. Howard noted how sweet it tasted, and wondered if his own cum had gotten sweeter as he'd gotten fatter.

“That was great,” Guy said.

“Glad to be of service,” Howard replied.

Guy shuffled his weight back up the bed, setting the frame creaking and groaning. He patted the bed next to him. “I think I was big spoon last time.”

“I think you might have been,” Howard said. From this angle, Guy looked almost impossibly wide. His gut spilled out, pulled down and to the sides by gravity, so that he resembled a large pillow. Howard settled down next to him, teetering on the edge of the bed, and curled up to the large mass. “I don't think these beds are really built for men our size.”

“Not two of us, anyway,” Guy said. “I can go, if that's easier?”

Howard shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We can stay a while.”

The two lay quietly for a while. Their heavy breathing filled the room.

“It's been a while,” Guy said after a while.

“What has?” Howard asked.

“Since I've been with anyone,” Guy clarified. “Once you reach a certain size, the mechanics all get a bit awkward.”

“How so?” Howard asked.

Guy sighed. “I can barely even reach my cock these days,” he admitted. “Bit of a faff for someone else to reach it, too. Generally guys just feed me these days, then deal with themselves.”

“You okay with that?” Howard asked.

“Oh yeah,” Guy insisted. “Don't worry about me. Not much difference these days between eating and sex for me. But this was… this was nice.”

“You still like it then?” Howard asked. “Being big? Getting bigger?”

“God yes,” Guy beamed. “There's nothing like it. I can't imagine stopping. How about you? Happy to stop where you are?”

“You know, I might well be open to packing a little more on,” Howard said.

“You let me know if you're ever up to getting fed then, eh?” Guy said. “I saw you struggling with those kiddy portions. You’re going to need pushing if you want to get really big.”

“Is that so?” Howard asked, laughing. 

Guy struggled to sit up. “Absolutely,” he said. “I distinctly remember you pushing me to eat two extra slices of pizza beyond what I thought I could. That lesson stuck with me. It's time you learnt it too.” He hauled himself to the side of the bed and panted for a moment or two. “I'll leave you be. Can't have you hanging off the bed all night.”

“Leave your number?” Howard said.

Guy smiled. “Definitely,” he said. He looked down at the clothes strewn about on the floor. “I uh… don't suppose you'd pick up my clothes for me? Bending down’s a bit of an ordeal these days.”

Howard chuckled and helped Guy collect his clothes and put them on. “Let's make sure it's not another decade, eh?”

Guy smiled. “Of course,” he said and patted Howard's gut. “We've got to make sure to put some meat on these bones.”

The door closed and Howard collapsed back down onto the bed. 

[thewalkingalive19]

One of the best gainer stories I’ve ever read

[thewalkingalive19]

The Stuff: A Story of Growth

That was becoming more and more of a thing for Alan. Ever since graduating college and stopping his daily sports activities as he focused on his career, he had started to eat more, and his weight crept up over the past couple of months. He saw it, and he knew that he didn’t fit within the body standards his gay friend group tended to push. But the food tasted so good and pushing himself to work out to burn it all off was getting harder by the day, and by the pound. But still, he has only put on like 20 pounds. Eventually he’d start getting back in the gym and rejoin his skinny friends.

He noticed they all looked at the sliver of belly that his costume revealed whenever he lifted his arms above his shoulders all night. He swore he heard some snickers off to the side when it happened too. It made Alan feel like shit, so he ate more fucking candy. And by the end of the night, he was drunk, full of peanut butter cups and chocolate bars, and, in a foul mood, he stomped out of the house into the dark of the suburban streets. Alan lived just a few streets away, and even thought it looked like rain, he figured he could make it if he walked at top speed.

Of course, when you’re drunk you don’t often take your drunkenness into account when calculating walk speed, and Alan’s full belly didn’t help matters either. Just then, right about when this story started a couple paragraphs ago, there was a bolt of lighting that lit up the quiet street, illuminating a house Alan had never seen before. It was a big manor, much bigger than the surrounding houses, and if it wasn’t painted black, whatever color it had rotted away to the point where Alan couldn’t tell what it could have been. Alan has made this trip countless times and couldn’t remember seeing a house anything like this one, but as the flash faded, he noticed it had its outdoor lights still on, way after the rest of the neighborhood has turned theirs off.

Then the thunder struck that shocked Alan so bad he let out a yelp and instinctually ran to the spooky manor since it was the only house he could see with signs of life within. He ran – well, to the best of his inebriated ability – up the rotted steps and made it to the covered wrap-around porch just as the rains let loose. It was a downpour, the kind of thing that only lasted half an hour at most but would let loose a month’s worth of water in that short time. Panting on the porch, Alan rang the doorbell and hoped against hope that the person answering wouldn’t be a weirdo.

The man who came to the door was one of the biggest men Alan had ever seen. Alan, not a short man himself, was barely above belly level on this behemoth. And height wasn’t his only virtue, the man had a thick torso, a lot muscle gave it shape but was also a good amount of lard on the man’s body. His arms naturally rested out from his torso, pushed out by the fat deposits sliding over from his man boobs and the impressive circumference of his upper arms. All of this hidden under a festive black and orange flannel button down that just barely fit his proportions. His legs weren’t quite as massive as the upper part of his body, but there was definitely enough meat there to support all the weight on top, and Alan could see just a hint of the bubble butt the man seemed to be sporting. A counterweight clad in white sweatpants, Alan thought.

The man’s jowls jiggled just a bit, along with his double chin as the man looked Alan up and down. It was a brief glance, really. Alan justified the look in his head as a caring attention to his state of wetness, though maybe there really was something more to the gaze. A hunger perhaps, hidden under a thin veneer of civility. Alan wasn’t paying attention enough to notice that hunger if it was there, though, as he jumped again at another clap of thunder from the sky.

“I hope you didn’t get too wet” the man in the manor growled.

Alan was shocked at the depth of the man’s voice. There was something else beyond the deep bass notes of the voice as well. An animalism that nearly crept out of its cage but was just held back by some civilizing force in the man. Taken aback, Alan eventually managed to eke out a few words, “No, I just made it before it got too bad.”

“Here, come on inside. We can get you a nice cup of hot chocolate to warm you up and you can tell me how you came to be on my porch” the man said, already turning to go deeper into the large, foreboding house. As he turned, Alan couldn’t help but check out his ass, confirming that it was nearly a match for the man’s belly. Alan should have been disgusted, as he had heretofore been strictly into twinks and twunks, but here was this giant man, almost inhuman in his size in more ways than one, and Alan couldn’t look away from the way the sway of the man’s fat ass as he entered the house and followed behind the big guy.

Alan could just barely hear the man explain that he’d make some of his special brew as the two of them entered the kitchen. If there was another person in the place, they were expert hiders. For how big the house seemed on the outside, the inside was almost cozy, full of fuzzy textures and nice, soft lighting. It really set a contrast to the imposing outside of the house. Alan was still looking around the house when the man handed him a mug full of warm, dark brown liquid. There was no way he could have already made the hot chocolate in the time he was in the house, Alan thought. Maybe he just had some already brewing and decided to share. Yeah, that must have been it.

A soft vapor lifted out of the mug, the hot liquid clashing with the slightly cool air in the kitchen. Alan, perched on a stool that was maybe a hair too big for him, brought the mug up to his nose and sniffed in deeply. The aroma was heady. He was no expert, but it seemed like this wasn’t your typical store-bought hot chocolate. There was something extra in here, he could have sworn. He was about to ask when the man interjected.

“Like I said, it’s my special brew. It’s perfect for nights like this.” The man gestured out the window, and continued, “You know, new friends and all.”

Were we new friends, Alan thought? Maybe. Even the smell of the chocolate (and whatever else) had calmed him down from his terrifying trip down the suburban lane, and he was about to bring the mug to his still chilled lips when the man grabbed his arm, spilling a bit of the liquid onto his pirate costume. He had almost forgotten he was wearing that silly outfit. He felt a little self-conscious about his belly peeking out from beneath his shirt until the man’s soothing voice put him at ease.

“Don’t worry about that, we can clean it up in a second, but first we need to toast. To new friends, new experiences, and new selves.”

Alan barely paid attention to what the man said, he just knew that the voice saying the words was enough to keep him from being concerned about the flimsy costume. He wasn’t ever going to wear it again anyways, right?

“Yeah,” Alan agreed, with more gusto than he expected to, “to all of that.” And with that, he started to sip at the chocolate. Well, he began sipping. But he found that once he started he couldn’t really stop. So it turned to chugging, and then, after just a few seconds, slurping. The heat of the liquid meant nothing to Alan. It was just the right temperature. Not too hot, but not at all cold. Special brew indeed.

The man just watched Alan suck down the oversized mug of hot chocolate. It was not the first time he’d seen this kind of reaction to his potent recipe. The man would never reveal its secret concoction but suffice to say that it wasn’t just hot chocolate. Soon Alan would realize that too, but it would be too late for him. The man just smiled at Alan and waited for him to come up for air.

Alan, gulping down the last mouthful, smacked his lips and let go a nice, big, sigh of relief. His night had gone poorly up until now, with shitty friends and shittier weather, but finally this big beefy dude had taken him in and given him the best drink of his life. Alan was calm, full, and happy. He let a wide, goofy smile stretch across his face, and the man reciprocated.

“Did you enjoy your drink?”

“I sure did!”

“And are you concerned about your shirt? The mess?” Alan’s outfit felt tighter, as if the spilled liquid had shrunk the cheap costume. Was that how that worked? Alan couldn’t say. He was feeling too good to question the laws of physics.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Well, let me grab us a bite, I’ll refill your mug, and we can go into the living room to get to know each other better. I’ve got a scary movie on and those are always better to watch with friends.” The man’s smile widened even farther, reaching an almost uncanny level. But Alan was not inclined to care too much about weird smiles. He was focused on getting another mug of hot chocolate and seeing what movie was on. He was a horror fiend and hoped it would be a good one. If it was, maybe he really had made a friend on this fateful night.

The man grabbed a bag of chips and some dip, somehow managed to wrap his big mitt around both mugs of his secret stuff, and led Alan into a room they must have passed on their way to the kitchen but Alan could not remember seeing. Maybe he was too focused on the man’s hot ass, Alan thought, and then thought how weird it was that he thought that such a fat ass was hot, then forgot about it all and just smiled to himself again, noticing only the small chub forming in his too-tight lycra pants. Normally he’d be concerned about throwing a boner in a stranger’s house but tonight he was too happy with how his evening had proceeded to care much about anything but his companion.

“I’m Alan, by the way,” Alan said in a softer than usual voice.

“Oh, nice to meet you Alan. I’ll be sure to shake your hand once I put all this down,” the man huffed.

“Cool, no problem.” Alan didn’t notice that the man didn’t give his name.

It was some hours later. The two had scarfed down a whole bag of chips, plus most of the candy that was sitting in a big bowl on the table, presumably for trick-or-treaters earlier in the night, but suspiciously full if it was indeed for that purpose. No matter, it was all in Alan and the man’s stomach. Or, more accurately, it was mostly in Alan’s stomach. The chips too, almost all ended up in that location. Over a couple John Carpenter movies, Alan’s hand kept reaching for more chips and sweets, a potent combo, in between sips of his second and third mugfulls of hot chocolate. His belly had grown from ex-jock to full-chubster levels, rounding out, pushing out, forcing the thin shirt to creep up until it revealed his belly button while his pants crept down, wedging between his widening belly and his thickening crotch.

His hard-on hadn’t dissipated. In fact, it had only grown thicker, longer, and stronger. He made no attempts to hide it, however, as all of his brainpower was focused on eating and taking in the sights. Those sights began with the movies on the man’s giant tv, but soon he began sneaking glances at the man sitting next to him, also in skin-tight clothes and with what must have been the biggest crotch anybody had ever sported. Alan just couldn’t look away from his savior, or his savior’s belly, breasts, and bulge to be more specific.

Alan started chewing with his mouth open somewhere in the early minutes of The Thing. He was beyond caring if it was rude. Closing his mouth took up too much time, and that time could be spent eating. He hadn’t even gotten up since he had sunk into the nice, comfy couch next to the man who was hosting him. Every time his cup ran out of hot chocolate (and something else?), the man seemed to sense it somehow and got him a refill. All this eating and drinking without moving really allowed him to sink even deeper into the couch throughout the night until he was unsure if he could get up even if he wanted to. Though he didn’t want to. He just wanted to stare at this specimen of a man and fucking eat.

By the end of The Thing he had stopped even eating effectively. The man had put on a new movie, something called From Beyond, and brought out some ice cream, a rich, creamy mix of peanut butter and chocolate with an unidentifiable but incredibly tasty sauce on top. It tasted like a more flavorful version of the already incredibly tasty hot chocolate, and the cool temps of the food made him keep drinking more of the hot liquid. God, this was the life, he thought for a moment, before he realized that he could be eating instead of thinking and dispensed with the latter altogether. He kept swallowing, though now sometimes he didn’t get everything down his throat and sometimes what was left over from what he shoved into his mouth dripped out of his mouth and onto his now incredibly protruding belly.

His shirt was bunched up over the big gut he was now sporting. He could feel the cold drips of ice-cream he drooled onto it briefly, but they soon crept up to body temp and melted even more from the furnace of his digestive system working in overdrive. He had started to grab at it, kneading it like dough because it felt so good, and it seemed like it made more room for his constant barrage of food and drink. His pants had started to dig into his waist as that part of his body increased in corpulence, the thin ribbon of elastic pulling tighter and tighter until it snapped.

The event of his pants loosing elasticity was enough to get Alan to pause for a moment, looking down at his still jiggling belly. The sight should have shocked him out of his stupor, but by then nothing could achieve that task. He just grunted in bemusement and went back to shoveling ice cream, candy, and chips into his mouth. He had forgotten about anything else by now. He was just a blob of fat, enough muscles to eat, and a boner bigger than he had ever imagined poking up at his belly, the fat gut almost covered his bigger, harder dick’s extended length.

The man looked over and saw Alan’s glassy eyes as they stared forwards, at the tv but not really aware of it if the man’s prior experiences were to be trusted. His tricks had worked their magic. Alan wasn’t the only guy the man had done this to, nor would he be the last. But there was something about the (barely) sentient lump of lard slouching on the couch next to him that made him stand out from his soon-to-be compatriots. A certain eagerness to let go that the man had usually needed to do more to coax out of his prey. Alan must not have been too happy in his prior life, the man thought, if he gave into his urges so easily and so fully. And boy was he ever full. Alan let loose a long, healthy burp, mindlessly patted his chest with a messy fist, and kept eating. If you could call what Alan was doing “eating” anymore, that is. “Digging into food and pulling out a handful to shove into his throat,” sure, maybe tasting it on the way by but by no means savoring anything anymore. Alan was fully consumed with the act of consuming.

Outside the storm somehow hadn’t stopped, the rainfall reaching what must have been near-flood. As the rain fell outside, Alan’s belly and breasts had finally shredded the shitty store-bought outfit down the middle. His flimsy shirt hung open as the fat continued to pour onto his ever-increasing body. His pants had split too, long ago, down each side so there was a layer beneath his widening ass and just barely covering his crotch, his thick pole now pushing it up like a circus tent. Had he been cognizant he might have been concerned about his hard-on lasting more than four hours like those commercials said, but Alan was a being purely focused on eating now, barely even human. His only awareness of outside events was when his gracious host swapped out an empty plate of candy and snacks for a fully stocked one. Yes, Alan was growing more aware of the dull ache of his erection, but it was nothing compared to his all-consuming hunger.

It was time for the final entry in the movie marathon, the man decided, so he got up and put on The Stuff. He brought out along with it his own gooey white mixture, a huge unlabeled plastic tub full of it. It was his secret weapon, a mix of cream, sugar, Boost, sweet rum, a potent THC/CBD blend and the man’s own cum and sweat. Small drops of the stuff had been placed in Alan’s hot chocolate, and a good dollop to his ice cream tubs, but now he was going to be subjected to the full, undiluted potion, and it was going to turn the already lardy young man into a round mound of bliss and fat.

Alan’s mind was next to gone, so he didn’t notice the man affixing a funnel to his mouth that strapped ever so tightly around Alan’s fat head. The pressure was nice, if anything, calling attention to Alan’s blissed out state and ever fatter body. In some deep recess of his mind, Alan recalled seeing guys who were so fat their heads were twice as wide as they should be. He knew somehow that he wasn’t there yet, but if he could register surprise anymore, he might have at the fact that he was turned on by the idea of his head getting that large. He was lost in this thought when he sensed the man lifting a large bucket above Alan’s head. Having nothing but vague memories, the feeling of his body pressing against the couch and itself, and his increasing hunger rattling around in his brain, he could only barely connect that the new strapped-in funnel and the man’s positioning could mean that his hunger would soon subside.

And he was right. The man started slowly pouring the full-strength mixture down the funnel, his buff arms covered in a layer of soft fat strong enough by far to hold the heavy bucket and its contents above Alan’s head until it was empty. He knew from experience that the young man would soon level up his gulping capacity to get as much of the stuff into his body at once. That meant he would consume more and more of it at once, and the back half of the bucket would go much faster than the front half. The man’s only concern was whether or not he had reinforced the couch enough to handle what Alan was soon to become. He had done this whole rigamarole several times before, but none with such a natural as Alan. He wondered, in fact, if one bucket would even be enough for the mound of fat on the couch below him. Ah, the pleasures of experimentation.

Alan, unwitting subject in more ways than one, sat waiting for that first drop. In front of him the slimy ooze Stuff was eating people alive. On the couch, he waited to gulp down some stuff of his own. Wait. Was that it? He distantly heard a splashing sound, distinct from the constant rain that had been pelting at the weird old house for hours now. This sound was deeper, gloopier. Simultaneously he noticed a heavier pull on his head from the funnel attached to his mouth. The gravity of the funnel and stuff was enough to pull Alan’s head as far forward as it could go, smushing his skull and face into the rolls of accumulated fat that used to be his neck.

And then! Oh, and then, finally, the sweet, slightly salty taste of the stuff hit his tongue. Oh wow. Fuck. It was the nectar of the gods. It was everything he had ever had to eat. It was the taste of love and of desire and of sex and of drinking a tall glass of cool water on a hot afternoon and of eating the best meal at your favorite restaurant and of getting incredibly high and of getting drunk out of your mind but with none of the bad parts. It was bliss. It was the touch and smell and taste of the hottest men alive all playing and kneading your fat body. It was a thousand blowjobs by seasoned pros. It was a million cocks hitting your prostate at once. It was the satisfaction of a full stomach. It was the pleasure of an overfull stomach. It was the heat and intensity of being bloated to capacity. It was quite literally mindblowing.

Alan, if such an entity still existed in the way it had only hours ago, no longer had any thoughts. Nor memories nor emotions. He had only desire left. The desire to be fatter, more blissed out on the stuff that was still pouring into his belly via the funnel firmly affixed to his mouth. If he once had a thought about the plausibility of any of the night’s events they were long gone. His life was here now. On this couch. Sucking down this stuff until there was nothing left to suck. Growing and growing and growing, though there was no way he could tell anymore what exactly was happening to his body. He only felt blissful expansion everywhere. If he never had a thought again in his life, it would be too soon.

The man looked down on his experiment, still pouring the stuff out of the bucket. There was a little over a half of the bucket left, and this was his favorite part of the whole procedure. He could see Alan’s body expand by the second now. It grew and grew and grew, the stuff’s delicate mixture ensuring that his proportions grew without fully ruining the young man’s skin. There were stretch marks, of course, and not just in the belly and under the arms where they usually appeared but literally all over Alan’s body. But, and this had taken dozens of iterations, there was still plenty of pale white skin on which the red stretch marks stood out. He could explain it, but who cares. He just enjoyed it.

And then, at the halfway mark, as Alan experienced the infinite pleasure of the stuff in his mind and across his body, the man saw Alan convulse over and over again as he finally came. The man leaned over to try to see if he could spot Alan’s dick anymore. It was vanished deep within the recesses of his thunder thighs and fat pad, all of which were then covered by the bloating belly that laid on top of them. The man could see a thick river of cum run out onto the floor below the couch. The stuff did that too, it made everything bigger and better. The man had long since installed a collection device underneath the floorboard so that when he got his subjects to this point he could harvest their cum and use it in further experiments.

The man knew that Alan’s brain had been broken by the stuff by now. There was only the task of keeping him fed and milked now. As the first bucket dripped out its last drop, the man used a free hand to slap and grope at Alan’s rolls. He pushed a finger as far as he could into Alan’s soft side and got as far as his wrist before meeting the end of the elasticity of his skin. In prior experiments such a test was ended by running into the young men’s rib cages but this time the ribs were nowhere in sight. The man smiled as he first dropped the empty bucket before stripping. This was his favorite part, the final stage of his experiment.

His theory had always been that the more pleasure his sexual partner felt, the more pleasure he would feel. His first experiments started in college, when he had fucked his roommate after they had both gotten high and drunk and stuffed themselves full of chips and pizza. It was the hardest he had ever cum in his life up to that point, and he chased that feeling for the remainder of his time at school, hopping from partner to partner, switching up variables and positions and everything he could think of. Yet nothing had topped that first time with his roommate. There was something about hitting every possible button both he and his partner shared that turned it into a special event.

But his roommate had wanted a traditional family and a traditional life and only allowed the man (whose name was Mike, by the way), to “run his experiments” every so often. There was love between them, but it wouldn’t last, Mike knew. So he switched his major to chemistry and biology and started experimenting with what he thought of as the stuff, based on an old movie he had seen with his roommate one “experimental” afternoon. He knew the stuff had to be a combination of alcohol and weed, that was crucial for getting in the right mindset and spurring on a binge session. The state of being high, drunk, and stuffed to capacity overrode any experimental participant’s ability to focus on anything other than pleasure. But there was still the problem of love.

He had found dozens if not hundreds of men at his college to try out his stuff. Some of them were gay to begin with, others found themselves open to experimentation on that front after trying this cool new drug Mike claimed he’d discovered. All of them were eventually high and drunk enough to be into the experience of fucking or getting fucked by a guy. But none of them had fallen in love with Mike. Lust, sure. Lust was easy. Deep friendship was possible and even likely for some few of the subject, particularly those who were already into getting stoned or drunk, or who were already what Mike discovered were called gainers, or those who were turned on by the act of gaining weight. But still none of them were true lovers for Mike. And Mike wasn’t in love with any of them either. At least not yet.

Mike wasn’t sure when it happened, but eventually, over the course of many fun nights experimenting with guys all around campus, he began to find the bloated nature of his subjects to be extremely hot. It was something like operant conditioning he finally realized as he was rubbing a sexy guy’s hard, fat belly. You fuck enough guys who are thick all around thanks to the rest of your experiment and it turns out you’ve conditioned yourself to find such a sight attractive. The guys were too far gone to care about their unconventional body at the moment of their mating and so found themselves to be entirely fine with Mike’s heavier and heavier groping of their bodies. Some, Mike found to his delight, would like it so much that they signed up for another go round or two or three, and in each successive meeting he found himself getting harder and harder when he realized his stuff hadn’t just blown them up for a one night thing but also encouraged them to keep stuffing themselves between experiments. It was a vicious cycle inside Mike’s mind. He’d fuck a guy after feeding him more food than he could possibly imagine, then he’d squeeze and massage and grab at his subject’s new belly, then the next time they’d meet up that belly would have become soft and malleable and able to fit even more food, at which point the cycle started over again.

The guys he lovingly thought of as subjects seemed to be cool with this development in their own bodies, a newfound or reinforced taste for the good times provided by drinking and smoking weed waxing over any concerns they might have had about maintaining societal beauty standards. The stuff, it seemed, was mildly addictive. Mike observed this across several subjects and might have been concerned about the ethical consequences of using the always-improving stuff on them given its addicting nature but whenever he asked the subjects if they wanted to continue their experiments they always said yes, a small glint in their eyes often accompanied by a quick glance to Mike’s crotch.

Mike was sure to avoid ingesting the stuff himself outside the experimental boundaries. He knew if he tried every version he concocted of the stuff as he made it he would become so addicted to it that it would take over his life and he’d never find the perfect mixture. So he resigned himself to only having half the dose he’d put in his subject’s drinks and forced himself to go to the gym between sessions so he could work off some of its effects. Mike loved to bloat up as much as anybody else, but he knew that until his subjects were subjected to the stuff, they might not have the shifted standards of beauty they would eventually come to develop. Soon he was a big strong man with plenty of muscles that were enhanced by a soft layer of fat covering every part of his body.

With the gym sessions came the realization that guys gave off a particular smell as they worked out, a musk that sent certain other men over the edge into a haze of lust and desire. He found not a few of his subjects at the gym, stacked jocks and scrawny first timers alike. They were drawn to his musk, a potent scent that he could enhance by not showering for days at a time. And, after months of finding guys drawn to him who turned out to be “straight” at least before his encounter with them, he realized that his own small doses of the stuff had superpowered his natural odors so much that nobody could resist them for long. The real experiments started to feature intense underarm, crotch, ass, and, for the repeat subjects, fat pad crease sniffing sessions. Both Mike and his subjects would find each other’s smells to be like the stuff itself in a distilled form. It got them high and drunk and hungry, more even than the stuff itself.

Mike started to put his gym sweat into the stuff itself. That proved to be a game changer. It strengthened the personal connection between him and his subjects because one of the ingredients came from him directly. He’d sop up the sweat his body left on the gym equipment with a towel and then ring it out into a beaker where he’d let it sit in the sun, developing a fine aged quality. When he put it into the stuff, he noticed a marked uptick in both the bliss he and his partner felt as well as how much they could stuff into their gullet. Something about the post-workout sweat made them feel exponentially hungrier like they had just worked out, especially when added to the already munchifying effects of the weed and alcohol. It was the next step towards the perfect version of the stuff, but there was still something missing.

The final ingredient came accidentally. Mike was sitting in his dorm room, idly jerking off to the memory of his prior night with one of his long-term subjects. He had found himself jerking off in front of the window in his dorm room and as he came, he realized that right below his dick was the beaker full of gym sweat. It was too late to stop it from getting cross contaminated and before he knew what he was doing he picked up the beaker and made sure the rest of his jizz went directly into it. When next he brewed his concoction it smelled even better. The musk of the sweat was mixed with the sweet-sour smell of his cum, both flavors enhancing the mix of food and drugs that he had already emulsified within the prior versions of the stuff. He almost downed the whole mixture himself, right then and there. It would have been a disaster, he thought. He needed to be able to observe its effects on somebody else, preferably somebody who was already addicted to the stuff and its sweat-enhanced versions for a while.

So he got out his phone and texted his best friend in the world, one of his first non-roommate subjects, John. John had grown big and fat thanks to the stuff, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was the first person Mike had told about his experiments after one of his early sessions, a confession Mike had feared would lose him a new but strong friendship. Instead, it only heightened it, as John was already a gainer and a pothead. He was chill about the whole thing, and every month or so he hit up Mike for an “experiment” night. When John got the text that there was a brand-new addition to the stuff he couldn’t wait to see what it was and what effect it would have on him.

Mike had gone grocery shopping, getting all of John’s favorite munchies. Instead of hiding the stuff in a drink like he normally did, he instead greeted John at his dorm with a shot of the stuff in a glass and an armful of fattening foods. John looked at Mike only briefly before taking the shot, inviting the man into his dorm, and closing the door behind him. Then he took the shot and his eyes went wild. His pupils blacked out, his stomach rumbled, and he lunged at Mike, making him drop all of the food in his arms. As he gripped and grabbed at Mike’s body, John used on hand to rip open a carton of ice cream and started to scoop it out with his hands, either not feeling or not caring about the cold temperature on his bare skin. Mike found it to be incredibly hot as John couldn’t help but smear himself and the other man with melted ice cream as John desperately tried to strip the two of them down to their skin. Mike found his bearings and laughed along with the blissed-out John as he helped with the confusing buttons and zippers and sleeves involved in the stripping process.

The two men were as hard as they had ever been and came almost instantly just from the sensation of the stuff and their skin rubbing against each other as they ate the rest of the ice cream. But that was only the beginning of the night. They watched porn with each other after cumming just from eating several times. They rubbed all over each other’s expansive bodies, and Mike could have sworn he actually saw John growing before his eyes. The night ended with everything Mike had brought to John’s dorm fully consumed, along with delivery pizza and Chinese and innumerable loads of stuff-enhanced cum. John passed out on the floor of his dorm, his body nearly twice as thick as it had started the night. Mike knew success when he saw it, and when he woke up on John’s bed in the morning, jerked off over his fat body one more time. It was done. He had cracked the code. The stuff was complete.

But Mike had no one to celebrate with. He never saw John again. He heard his friend had moved out the next day, dropped out of college and went back home halfway across the country. John blocked Mike’s number so calls and texts wouldn’t go through. Mike spent the next week alone in his dorm room, his roommate having long since moved out when he saw how the experiments were only growing along with the man’s sexual appetites. The people in the rooms on either side could hear equipment smashing and Mike’s wails of despair. He had found it. He had discovered what he spent years trying to make. And he blew it in a fit of overeager excitement. John had clearly woken up and discovered his new, way fatter body. Maybe he was even still feeling the cravings. And it had scared him so deeply that he gave up everything he had in his life to get away from Mike.

As a punishment for himself, Mike decided to give up the dream. He would never recreate the highs of that night, he’d never find somebody so perfect, never rediscover just the right mixture of stuff to bring everyone involved to such pleasurable bliss. So he just completed his degrees, including a Masters and a Ph.D. in biochemistry. He found a job at a pharmaceutical company making boring drugs that saved lives or whatever. He built up a sizable fortune for himself and retired at the age of 35. And then, having decided he’d punished himself enough by eschewing all worldly pleasures for over a decade and a half, he started purchasing the necessary equipment again. He repurposed the basement, living room, and kitchen to become his lab, experiment room, and restaurant-level cooking center. He used all of his knowledge he developed in making those boring drugs he made for a living to recreate and refine the stuff. He could have turned it into a perfect little pill if he wanted to, but, remembering the failures of his past, he decided that the best path was the safe path and stuck with the creamy white liquid.

He started putting ads online asking for stoners and gainers who were down to experiment with something new to come to his house. He laid out all of the experiment’s parameters for them, asked what they were comfortable with and stopped his experiments before going too far. He developed some relationships like the ones he’d had in college with his subjects, but he had also developed a monk-like ability to stop himself before going too far, even if he’d had a few drops of the stuff himself during a given experiment. If the guy wasn’t into it or started to get uncomfortable, Mike would politely show him the door.

The stuff was once again perfect. And over the course of hundreds of experimental nights, he had found a formula for its application that was basically perfect. He’d start off slow, just a drop in a cup of whatever liquid his subject liked to drink. That would lead to overeating and a pleasant buzz. Then it would be time for a bowl of ice cream and with a dollop of the stuff spread over top of it. That would take things to the next level, bypassing whatever societal or bodily limits the subject had. It would start visibly packing on the pounds too as the subject wouldn’t be able to stop eating. Their thought processes would slow and transform towards only the acquisition of pleasure. And then, just when they thought they were done with it all and almost about to cum, Mike would take out a full bucket of pure stuff. It took several tries to figure out the right equipment to use at this stage and the proper pouring method, but he did finally get it down. The subjects would lose the capacity to think at all about halfway through the bucket, at which point they’d cum and cum as they guzzled down the rest. The first time this happened, Mike was dumbstuck. Was it permanent? What could he do with all the cum? The cleanup was a mess. But eventually he realized that the cum was useful in the manufacturing of the stuff itself, and so he started to develop ways of collecting it that wouldn’t interfere with the effects. The subjects required total freedom to do what their body willed them to do, so he couldn’t strap a tube on their dicks or anything. Instead he developed a sophisticated collection method involving slightly slanted floorboards and small slats between them that ran to a tank in his basement. There was still clean up require, of course, but if he did his job right the men would want to do that clean up themselves, eventually waking up enough out of their stupor to lie their newly fattened bodies on the floor and lick up the remaining cum of their own volition. This would prolong the effects for a while but not permanently, as the subjects would eventually come to and be given the choice to go back to their daily lives with some cash to buy desperately needed new clothes.

Mike was pleased with this setup, and he could have kept it going for the rest of his life. Sometimes the subjects came to live with him for a while, the two or three or four of them using smaller doses of the stuff to heighten their sexual escapades to another level. But Mike still needed something. He needed the connection he had found with his long-lost John, the deep personal knowing of each other that they had experienced that one night he took things too far too fast.

When Alan showed up that dark and stormy night, Mike’s house was empty of prior subjects. He’d had a long fling with a guy for a full year, but eventually they grew tired of each other. It was sad, but only briefly. Once you’d had a loss like the one Mike had in college, nothing else quite compared. He greeted Alan with a smile and a hope that this young, wet man could be his next subject. Alan seemed amiable enough, and there was something familiar about his face, the way he carried himself. He was sad, Mike could see, deep on the inside. He needed a release. So Mike, moving against his principles for the first time since that fateful night, started the carefully controlled procedure with the stuff. It worked like a charm, like all the other guys who left the man’s house satisfied in more ways than one. He responded even more than most, in fact, to the effects of stuff, his mind and body changing more and more rapidly than any other Mike had seen before. The man was dropping his clothes and getting hard when he finally figured it out.

This Alan was familiar for a very good reason. Now that he was all fattened up thanks to the stuff, Mike could see what had to be a family resemblance. Alan was John’s son. It made Mike tear up for a moment. His friend had gone on to live a full life. He’d had a son who, despite his sadness, could live equally fully, as Mike had so clearly proven tonight. He knew it was wrong to have given Alan the stuff, but the gnawing, hidden resemblance had subconsciously forced Mike into action that had paid off beautifully. It also made sense out of Alan’s response to the stuff. He didn’t quite know how, but Alan must already have some of the stuff inside of him, a permanent change in John that had passed down to Alan. The lack of the stuff was why he was so sad. There was something missing, something he couldn’t fathom. John would never tell his son of how or why he was as big as he was, and somehow Mike knew John had never truly lost the weight he’d put on that night. Alan had the genes for the stuff, and he happened upon its source.

Mike came all over Alan when he realized this. Alan was who he was looking for his whole life. A guy he could devote all of his love and attention to, who could receive all of it as well. A guy who’s body and mind aligned perfectly with his own because of the influence of the stuff before he was even born. They were truly made for each other. It made Mike so happy, so horny, that he abandoned his usual progression of sexual experiences with his subjects and just laid on top of Alan’s round body. Alan didn’t need any stimulation to keep coming himself, every twenty minutes or so his refractory period would end and he’d cum just from his mindless bliss. Alan must have felt Mike lying atop him, but there was nothing he could do about it in his state of utterly mindless pleasure.

Alan’s brain had broken beyond the temporary break all the other subjects had experienced. He’d need the stuff from now on, on a cellular level, just to live. Eventually Mike studied Alan enough to figure out exactly what different doses of the stuff would do to Alan, which would totally bliss him out as happened tonight, and which would allow him to maintain some level of cognitive stability in order to have conversations and even exist in the world as a normal person. Because of Alan’s modified DNA, his base state was somewhere near the end of the usual ice cream stage for most subjects. He was dumb and floating on a cloud of stoned bliss without the influence of the stuff. But with just the right amount of stuff he could operate near his prior levels of intelligence and ability. It allowed him to live a normal life if he wanted to. Mike eventually offered to give Alan a lifetime supply of the stuff for free if Alan decided he wanted to leave for whatever reason. But by that point, after months of experimentation between the two of them and along with it time to develop a deep love and affection for each other, Alan couldn’t think of a reason to leave for good. Sure he didn’t want to live his life in the house, but there was always the love of the kind older man to bring him back.

Alan became part of Mike’s continued experimentation in furthering the pleasure they could both feel. Sometimes that involved a third or fourth party joining in, sometimes it was a continuous blowjob that saw both men coming into each other’s mouths, each instance of which would spur the recipient on to produce ever more cum, slowly inflating the other with their cum. It turns out their repeated sexual intercourse led Mike to start to change on a cellular level also. He retained his smarts, but he needed the stuff and Alan’s cum for nutrition. They were always happy to serve each other. Mike gave up his gym routine as well, finally giving into what the stuff could do for him in full. He figured he had found the love of his life and no longer absolutely needed to seduce and appeal to men who might have more traditional body standards. His muscles didn’t entirely melt away, but they were packed under ever-increasing layers of fat. He loved it. Alan loved it. They loved each other.

[fatboyfiction]

Opposites Attract

Chapter 2: Reaction

The palpable chemistry that had been mounting throughout their meal was at a tipping point as the two men left the buffet. They walked the eight blocks back to his building and Pritchard spent the whole time anticipating what was to come. Marshall’s unabashed display of gluttony at the restaurant had worked him up into a lather and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on his beefy new toy. 

The building lobby made Marshall’s eyes widen in awe. Pritchard savoured this when he saw it; he enjoyed how innocent and impressionable the boy was. The more charitable part of him thought about how much fun it would be to give the guileless hunk a taste of how the other half lived. His less altruistic side was imagining all the ways he could use that youth and naïveté to mold his new project into the waddling, wheezing porker of his fantasies. 

These thoughts percolated in Pritchard’s mind on the long elevator ride up to the eighteenth floor, but came to an abrupt halt as soon as he’d closed the door behind them. He’d had a game plan in mind, one that he’d used before on the other eager young things he’d brought home after a night spent feeding them into a stupor. He’d dined the boy already, now he had to wine him. He’d break out a nice red, something good but not too expensive. These beefy college idiots never knew the difference anyway. He’d put on some music, something soft and low in the background to ease the mood. These fledgeling gainers were always so shy and self-conscious. Years of keeping their horniest, kinkiest fantasies as a shameful secret had conditioned them to stay safely inside their shell. He’d learned that he needed to coax them out gently, ease them into things and take his time. 

Marshall surprised him, though. After having broken through the initial barrier of awkwardness at the restaurant, he didn’t seem at all inclined to curb his boldness now. As the heavy door clicked against the latch, he wasted no time in taking Pritchard by the wrists, holding his hands above his head, and pushing him bodily against the door. 

Pritchard was taken aback by this. He was so used to dealing with timid little things who were afraid of their own desires. This forcefulness on the part of his feedee was unexpected. Unexpected, but very welcome.

Marshall brought his lips to Pritchard’s and started making out with him hungrily, grinding his wide, powerful hips against Pritchard’s narrow ones. The older man was enjoying this rough treatment, relishing the feeling of being so delicate in the beefy boy’s hands. This was a large part of what had attracted him to Marshall in the first place. He’d liked the boy’s air of unrefined, unrestrained strength. The kind of brute barbarism that he must have displayed while hefting hay bales on the farm, or when out on the football field. He had an unapologetic and elemental masculinity that was so unlike the sleek and mannered city slickers he spent his days with in the boardroom. 

The friction between them was reaching a fever pitch when Marshall pulled back. He stepped away and with a cocky look in his eyes, he began to undress. “This is what you’ve been waiting for, right?” he teased as he lifted his shirt up over his head, baring the full splendor of his beefy torso. “I know you’ve been wanting to see this big, bloated gut all day. You’re the one who stuffed me like a pig back there at the buffet. Why don’t you come admire your handiwork?” 

Pritchard’s cock was at full mast at these words. He was so used to being the one in change during these hookups. Having someone take that role from him was strangely satisfying. Out in the streets, Marshall might have been the unpolished country mouse and Pritchard the confident, successful master of industry. But here behind closed doors, he found himself wanting this hulking meathead to take charge and demand whatever he wanted. 

He approached the younger man and put his hands on his tight, distended stomach, claiming the prize he’d been waiting for since they’d first started messaging. When he’d first walked into the buffet, Pritchard had seen that Marshall carried some softness around his waist. He knew from their horny midnight exchanges that Marshall had packed on some weight during college, about 40 lbs he said. Marshall had sent him pictures from when he was a freshman, cut muscles on full display after being so recently released from the structured diet and workout regimen he’d been subjected to in high school. His luscious pecs protruded out above his perfect set of washboard abs, capped off with a pair of surprisingly large and pointed nipples. All of this Grade A man meat was coated with a light dusting of chest hair, a shade or two darker than the gold of his wavy locks. 

The other details of this newly minted collegiate hopeful were still largely the same. The beefy biceps that always seemed fit to burst the sleeves of whatever shirt he was wearing. The huge, wobbling melons of his ass that tested the limits of even the most forgiving pair of pants. Even the pecs were mostly unchanged, still peeking out coyly around the straps of tank tops and decorating his shirtfront with the twin peaks of his almost perpetually hard nipples. But the abs were no longer present and accounted for. They had been replaced with the tantalizing beginnings of a small gut that was just starting to catch up to his chest in its degree of hang. 

Like any good gainer, Marshall had taken a bumper crop of selfies with his new belly as the star of the show, taking advantage of all the forced angles that he knew would exaggerate the size of his new pudge. Pritchard had chuckled to himself as Marshall had sent him these pictures. He knew as well as Marshall did that these weren’t an accurate portrayal of his size, but had enjoyed them nonetheless. He’d been pleasantly surprised when Marshall had shown up at the buffet looking smaller than his pictures, but still with a noticeable wobble at his waist. This owed something to the white tee shirt Marshall had worn, obviously a size too small and very clearly selected to show off his assets to their best advantage. 

That wobble had gone now, Pritchard noted as he ran his hands slowly over Marshall’s skin. That softness from earlier had been replaced with a tautness from everything that Marshall had eaten. Or rather, from everything that Pritchard had made him eat. He smiled to himself in a smug way as he thought of all the calories he’d pumped into the boy, and all the extra wobble he’d hopefully soon be feeling as a result of it. 

“You did me proud earlier, fatboy. I didn’t know about you at first, you seemed like you might not be able to live up to all those things you said to me online. I was glad to see you were able to put your money where your mouth is.” 

Marshall grinned at this, bringing his big hands up and mirroring Pritchard’s ministrations as he helped to rub his abused belly. “Sorry for being so awkward at first, man. I’ve met up with some other supposed feeders before and let’s just say it never went well. And then you showed up looking like a million bucks and I didn’t want to act like a greedy pig in front of all those people and turn you off.” 

“Oh trust me big guy, there’s absolutely nothing about you being a greedy pig that could ever turn me off. That’s one of my very favourite things about you.” 

Pritchard moved his hands lower, tracing the bulge of Marshall’s dick through his jeans. The younger man’s breath hitched as he felt his cock twitch. The big bruiser was turned on to a screaming pitch by this hot older guy saying out loud all the filthy things he’d only ever thought in the safety of his mind.

“God I want to be fat so fucking bad,” Marshall said breathily as Pritchard continued his explorations. “I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. You know the first thing I ever jerked off to was the thought of lying back in bed, weighed down by a big, fat, round belly.”

“That’s quite the mental image, big guy. Who would have guessed it, huh? A big, strong, manly guy like you wanting to be turned into a fat, lazy, greedy pile of lard.” Pritchard said this with a malicious grin plastered across his face. This was it, they were finally getting to the good stuff. 

“Oh fuck yeah,” Marshall moaned, moving his hands to his sides and jiggling his budding love handles. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, to give in and eat like a fatass, blow up into a huge mound of blubber. You have no idea how badly I want it.” 

“Yeah? And you’d be willing to give all this up for that? You look like a goddamn catalogue model. You’re not going to be able to get by on your looks once I’ve turned you into a land whale. And what about all those years you put into sports? Just imagine what your old teammates would have to say if they knew about this.” 

“I couldn’t care less about all that, man. You know I only got into sports to shut my dad up and get him off my case? You should have seen me before I started football when I was twelve, I was a pretty chubby kid. I still regret losing it all.” His tone shifted as he said this, becoming somewhat more contemplative as he looked down at his developing paunch, wondering how big it might have been by now if he’d never given in to his dad, never gotten into sports. 

“Well I guess I have my work cut out for me then, don’t I? I’ll just have to make sure you gain back all those pounds you shed, and maybe a few more for good measure.” Pritchard started unzipping Marshall’s jeans as he said this, looking him straight in his pretty blue eyes as he pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles. 

Marshall’s dick slapped up against his stuffed gut, splattering a few drops of sticky precum. He was clearly enjoying everything Pritchard was saying to him. “I want that so bad, dude. I want you to feed me until I can’t stand, fill me up with as much fucking food as you can cram into me.” 

Pritchard took hold of Marshall’s impressive girth and started stroking, the other hand toying with his hard nipples. “Tell me what else you want.” 

“I want you to tell me what a fat pig I’m turning into. I want you to tease me and humiliate me. Put me in tight clothes and parade me around in public. I want everyone to know what you’re doing to me. I don’t want to be able to hide it.” 

Bingo. “Your wish is my command, tubs. Now, what about this?” He waved around Marshall’s thick cock by the base, making his hefty balls swing. “What should we do about this? You’ve been such a good fatboy today, you deserve a reward.” 

Marshall looked Pritchard square in the eyes and his face split into another cocky grin. “I want you to fuck my big, fat ass and tell me how much of a pig you’re going to make me.” 

“Well then. Let’s get started,” he said with a solid smack to Marshall’s meaty globes.