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[thespiderpig1999]

Idea for a gainer story: two best friends who were the most popular jocks in high school end up going to different colleges and grow apart. Fast forward to after college and both are secretly into gaining and have put on a decent amount of weight after college (like 30lbs). They both join grommr in the hopes of finding someone to mutually gain with. They post some current pics but no face. They end up chatting to each other oblivious they’re actually talking to each other. After a few months of texting, encouraging and exchange belly pics, they’re both another 20lbs fatter and finally decide to meet up! They both arrive at the agreed location and are surprised to see their old high school friend. They say hello to each other and catch up but not telling the other why they’re actually there. Until an hour has passed so they decide to text the other and when both their phones go off they realise the truth! It’s awkward at first but when their bellies rubble they laugh and decide to find a motel and order a ton of food. They spend the night pigging out and comparing bodies shocked at how fat the other has gotten! Then things get steamy and they end up making out while feeling each others flabby bodies! They end up becoming bfs and continue to get fat together!

[biggertwink]

I am defo getting bigger already

[growingstories]

Do you really want it? Part 2

Part 1

When they arrived on the boat, they were accompanied by two other men—the trainer, Richie, and Mehdi. Richie was a striking Austrian man with blond hair and a deep tan. Peter had noticed Richie earlier when they arrived at the compound; from what Peter could see, Richie had been bulking, as his belly noticeably pushed out against his oversized t-shirt. Up close, Peter realized it was a very dirty bulk, as the shirt failed to hide his ballooning midsection. Despite this, Richie’s broad chest and massive arms hinted that he had likely been a serious bodybuilder not too long ago. Mehdi was introduced as Ahmed’s good friend. If anything, he was even more handsome than Ahmed but had a larger, more imposing frame. His belly was also prominent, and his arms were impressively thick.

PHOTOS RICHIE and MEHDI

The butler informed Andy that everything was ready on board and glanced at Peter with a mischievous grin, making Peter blush. Something about the moment felt charged, though Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Ahmed told them to relax and feel at home during their stay, adding they could order anything they desired. The cabin crew escorted Andy and Peter as they toured the yacht.

The yacht had four levels:

- The lowest level was reserved for staff, supplies, the kitchen, and other necessities.

- The first level was communal, featuring a dining room, living room, gym, cinema, and other shared spaces.

- The second level housed six large guest suites. The luxurious accommodations left Peter in awe—he had never seen anything remotely like it before. Andy, however, was already familiar with the grandeur, having visited numerous times in the past.

- The top level was Ahmed's private sanctuary—off-limits unless specifically invited. A guard stood stationed at the staircase at all times.

When they arrived at their suites, their luggage had already been unpacked. Waiting for them was an opened bottle of champagne and a large tin of caviar paired with brioche. A card read: *“Welcome aboard! Please enjoy this snack before lunch.”* Andy knocked on Peter’s door, holding his own tin of caviar, and said, "Let’s eat quickly, and as soon as we’re at sea, we’ll change and lounge at the pool during the ride."

When Andy put on his swim shorts, he realized just how much weight he’d gained since the last time he’d worn them. The skintight trunks clung to his body, but he simply laughed it off and took another big gulp of champagne.

Lunch was served on the communal deck, and Richie joined as well. The starters included various fried savory pastries and salads. Peter noticed Ahmed was served a more moderate portion and skipped the fries, while the rest of the group eagerly inhaled their food. The main course was a massive steak, and dessert was a trolley stocked with four different pies. Andy picked two slices, which turned out to be enormous portions. Mehdi and Peter each took one, but Richie attempted to decline dessert entirely. Ahmed, however, insisted Richie have three slices, smiling as he remarked, "You have the gym to yourself most days, so you’ve got time to burn it off—and your muscles need fuel."

Richie blushed at being called out but didn’t protest further and accepted the order. When Andy finished his second portion, Ahmed instructed the waiter to bring another round of pie for the four men. Though Richie was still struggling with his second piece, another plate with three more slices was set before him. Peter felt for him but stayed silent, grateful he had only ordered one slice himself.

After lunch, Ahmed outlined the itinerary for the next two weeks: a cruise around all the emirates, with occasional cultural stops. Beyond scheduled activities, they were free to do as they pleased—using all onboard facilities—and were only required to join the three daily shared meals. "Even Richie is at your service," Ahmed added with a grin before addressing Andy directly. "And if you need bigger trunks, let me know what you’re after, and I’ll send someone to get them." Andy laughed and replied, "Ah, yes, please. I’d like two pairs—XXXL, extra-short shorts—in black and blue from Orlebar Brown."

They moved to the deck and were served tea and bite-sized pastries while lounging on deck chairs. Peter noticed the tea's distinct sweetness, remembering that this was how it was traditionally served in Arab countries. Richie took off his shirt, revealing his bulkier frame. Andy teased him, joking, "At this rate, you’ll look like me in no time!" Ahmed chuckled and added, "That’s the whole point." Embarrassed, Richie quietly ate the snacks but eagerly reached for more when served.

Exhausted, Peter fell asleep in his chair for about two hours. Upon waking, he attempted to find his suite but got lost in the corridors and accidentally walked into a room marked *staff*. Inside, he found Leo, a steward whom he hadn’t encountered before, eating from a bucket of chocolate ice cream. Leo’s mouth was coated with chocolate, and his tight polo lifted to reveal a round, hairy belly. Clearly startled, Leo quickly put down the bucket and cleaned his face, stammering, "Hi, I’m Leo. How can I help?"

Peter explained he was lost, and Leo guided him back to his room. Leo’s appearance struck Peter—muscular but with a belly and love handles clearly visible under the snug polo. Peter couldn’t deny the feelings that surfaced during their brief encounter.

Inside Peter’s suite, he found a fresh plate of macarons waiting for him. He tried one, and they were addictive. One led to another, and within five minutes, while changing into his swimwear, he had consumed about ten macarons. On his walk to the pool deck, he turned back to his room to grab more, stuffing three into his mouth before taking five more. They were gone in seconds.

At the pool, Mehdi joined him. His tight swim shorts stretched over his firm ass, looking like two halves of a soccer ball. Mehdi greeted him, chuckling, "You must’ve found the macarons,” while gesturing at crumbs on Peter’s face. Blushing, Peter responded, but Mehdi reassured him. "Don’t worry—they’re addictive. I can never stop once I start."

Just as Peter confessed he felt like a pig, Leo appeared with a platter of eight fresh lobster rolls. Mehdi whispered, "We’re probably supposed to finish them all." Trying not to overthink, Peter stuffed roll after roll into his mouth as Leo waited nearby, refilling their lemonade regularly.

That evening, Peter returned to find the macaron plate in his suite had been refilled. By the time he refreshed himself and changed for dinner, he had finished them all—at least 30 in total—and hadn’t even noticed the flavors.

Dinner was a buffet of rich appetizers and creamy pastas. Quietly eating amidst the others, Peter’s already-full stomach stretched uncomfortably as the stewardesses and Leo coaxed them to add more food to their plates. Afterward, they were ushered into the movie room, where they each received a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Peter struggled but somehow finished it, only to be handed a second pint halfway through the movie. Surprisingly, despite being stuffed, it slid down effortlessly.

As Peter reflected on the day, he couldn’t help but question the irresistible cravings and the unusual dynamics aboard the yacht, wondering what lay ahead on this opulent but curious journey.

The next morning, Peter woke up early, feeling bloated from the previous day's indulgence. Motivated by guilt, he decided to lift some weights. To his surprise, Richie was already in the workout area, his bloated belly appearing even larger than the day before. Richie spotted Peter and cheerfully invited him to join in. After adjusting the weights, Peter began his workout, quickly realizing he was lifting heavier than usual.

"I can’t do cardio," Peter said breathlessly, "I’m expected to gain weight."

"Oh, I know," Richie replied with a grin. "We all are. Literally on the same boat. I can help you, though—got some mass protein powder if you need a push."

Peter agreed, intrigued. Richie disappeared and returned moments later with a large cup filled with a thick protein shake. Peter gulped it down and was surprised by how delicious it was. After their workout, they went up to the pool to cool down, where they were served coffee and an Italian breakfast cake. As they chatted, Peter asked Richie about his whereabouts during dinner the night before.

"I was invited by Ahmed for a private dinner," Richie explained casually. "We talked business—he’s interested in funding my plans to open a gym."

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place for Peter. But before he could think too deeply, a stewardess approached them, informing them that breakfast would be served in 20 minutes. Peter’s stomach sank—if breakfast was still to come, then this wasn’t it. Richie noticed his expression and burst out laughing.

"Ha! Pace yourself, man," Richie teased with a chuckle.

They quickly got dressed and made their way to the dining area, where Andy and Mehdi were already grazing on the lavish buffet. All day long, they were served incredible food, every moment of downtime filled with yet another extravagant spread. Peter realized that they were eating nearly 24/7, leaving them perpetually bloated.

After a few days, Peter received an unexpected summons from Ahmed for his own private dinner. Nervously, he arrived at the meeting and was immediately asked to undress and step on a scale. Ahmed turned the screen toward himself, making sure Peter couldn’t see the number.

"Very well," Ahmed said, nodding approvingly. "Now, let’s eat."

The dinner was lavish, with five courses served at a relentless pace. Just when Peter thought it was over, an enormous chocolate cake was placed before him. Panic set in—was he really expected to eat an entire cake on his own? Determined to make an effort, Peter dug in, eating with abandon as sweat began to drip from his face. After finishing over half of it, he finally pushed the remainder aside and leaned back in his chair, exhausted.

"I knew you were new at this," Ahmed said sternly, "but I’ve seen you eat. You can do better."

Ahmed grabbed a piece of cake and aggressively pushed it into Peter’s mouth, forcing him to keep eating. To his surprise, Peter felt a mix of humiliation and excitement at Ahmed’s dominant behavior, spurring him to keep going. Piece by piece, Ahmed fed him the remaining cake until only a quarter was left. Peter began gagging, overwhelmed, but Ahmed’s cold warning stopped him in his tracks.

"You throw up, and I’ll bring out another cake," Ahmed growled, "and we’ll start this whole show over."

Peter calmed himself, rallying his focus. Ahmed made an enticing offer: "$50,000 cash if you finish this."

With adrenaline pumping, Peter nodded. Ahmed urged him on, feeding him piece after piece until the entire cake was gone. Exhausted and stuffed beyond belief, Peter could hardly process Ahmed’s approving words.

"Well done," Ahmed said, pressing a button. "You just devoured 20,000 calories and earned yourself $50,000."

A bodyguard entered, handing Peter a suitcase filled with cash. As Peter left the room, he walked with heavy steps, emotions swirling—pride, shame, confusion. What had he just done? What had he gotten himself into? He barely made it to his bed that night and lay awake, unable to sleep.

The second week brought a change of pace, with the group touring various towns across the Emirates. At each stop, they were greeted with lavish buffets and dinner shows. Andy, in particular, seemed to thrive. Wherever they went, he was the largest man in the room, earning admiration and attention. People even touched his belly as though he were some kind of god. Andy basked in the glory, eating like there was no tomorrow. Peter, on the other hand, had mixed feelings. His growing waistline made him increasingly self-conscious, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what Michael might say. But also Richie’s belly… the poor athlete absolutely blew up these past few weeks.

By the third and fourth weeks, Richie, Peter, and Michael found themselves alone back in the compound, finally with some downtime to focus on work. But the looming departure reminded Peter of the expectations hanging over them. On the morning they were set to leave, a doctor arrived to weigh them. The doctor was incredible handsome and fit.

When Peter stepped on the scale, the doctor offered no details but handed over an envelope.

"I think Ahmed will be very satisfied," the doctor remarked cryptically. "You’re expected back in four weeks. This envelope contains your next task—open it when you get home."

At the airport, a company car awaited them, ready to take them back home. When Peter arrived at Michael’s place, he found only a note: *Welcome home. I’m in St. Tropez. See you soon.* Alone in his own bed the next morning, Peter finally stepped on his scale, and what he saw sent him into a panic—he had gained 12 kg in one month. This couldn’t be true. His heart raced as he opened Ahmed's letter.

The message inside was clear and cold: *Congratulations. You have exceeded your target, gaining 12 kg in four weeks. Your investment is approved, and your kickback fee will be wired to your account. You are expected back in four weeks. Gain at least the same amount before your return, and the investment and kickback will double. Gain even an ounce less, and there will be no extra.*

The letter threw Peter into turmoil. Michael's absence stung; was he avoiding him? More importantly, Peter realized he had no time to waste if he wanted to meet the next target—though the question lingered: *Did he really want to?*

He was restless and texted Andy. Andy replied and told him he was in the club. When Peter arrived in the club he saw Andy. With his normal clothes on he looked even bigger.

When Peter arrived at the office later that day, one of the assistants informed him that Michael’s business partner, Patrick Preston, had invited him out for lunch. The familiar faces of Andy and Damian were absent, leaving Peter feeling isolated behind his desk. Realizing he hadn’t eaten yet, Peter checked the office pantry, where he found a box of doughnuts marked with a note: *Enjoy!*

Pouring himself a coffee, Peter grabbed two generously filled doughnuts—one with Nutella, the other with thick custard. Before he knew it, both were devoured, prompting him to return for another. As he made his way back, he bumped into Damian, who was busy digging into the doughnuts himself.

"Hey, big guy!" Peter greeted cheerfully.

Damian turned around, his mouth stuffed with doughnut and jelly filling smeared comically across his lips. He swallowed quickly and grinned, patting his own belly.

"You did well!" Damian said, eyeing Peter’s obvious weight gain as he reached for another doughnut.

They shared experiences, laughing as they unintentionally polished off a dozen doughnuts between them. Damian mentioned Patrick in passing, painting him as a tall, handsome, but ruthless figure in the company.

Hours later, Peter was called again by an assistant—there was a company car waiting downstairs. Arriving at the restaurant, he spotted a tall man waiting at the bar with his back turned. Approaching cautiously, Peter introduced himself.

"You must be Peter," the man replied, turning around with a welcoming smile.

Damian hadn’t been wrong. Patrick Preston was stunningly tall and incredibly handsome. But to Peter’s shock, Patrick’s huge round belly protruded unapologetically—a stark contrast to his slender back view. As they were led to their table, Patrick began speaking, his tone casual and engaging.

"Please, call me Patrick," he said. "I’ve heard great things from Andy about you. The client is eager to see you again. But," Patrick paused as the waiter began placing dishes on the table, "you’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet."

The waiter brought out the first course: a terrine of foie gras served with toasted brioche. Patrick gestured for Peter to start eating. As Peter tentatively picked up his fork, Patrick announced, “Andy’s taking a break for a while. Since you’ve made such a strong impression, you’ll be handling his clients effective immediately.”

Peter nodded, his nerves amplifying every word, though his stomach churned—more from the weight of the conversation than the foie gras. He was already feeling uncomfortably full thanks to the doughnuts he’d inhaled earlier that morning. The waiter swiftly cleared the plates and brought out the second course: twelve shrimp croquettes.

Patrick continued speaking about the clients, but Peter could hardly focus. Mechanically, he ate the croquettes, ignoring their greasy richness, as his anxiety climbed. Then Patrick broke the flow with an unsettling shift in tone. “I also have some bad news,” he said, pushing the remainder of his own croquettes toward Peter. “Michael won’t be seeing you anymore. He sends his best and says he believes you’ll do great.”

Peter froze. He forced himself to chew as Patrick elaborated with a brisk detachment. Michael had arranged for Peter to live in an apartment for the next six months but expected him to move out of his place immediately. The waiter returned, placing a beautifully plated confit of duck with orange sauce and mashed potatoes on the table. The flavors were exquisite, but Peter barely tasted them, his thoughts elsewhere.

Dessert was served: a large bowl of chocolate mousse. Peter, drowning in an emotional fog, ate in silence. When he finished, the waiter returned, giving him a second portion. And then a third. Patrick leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth casually. “I hope everything’s clear. Take the day off to move your things. A van will be there at 6 p.m.”

Peter nodded mutely and left, tears stinging his eyes. The thought of Michael’s abrupt rejection hit him like a punch to the gut. By the time he was back home, however, sorrow turned into a mechanical determination. He packed his belongings, wiping away tears, and by 6 p.m., two men arrived to load everything into a van. By 8 p.m., he had unpacked just enough to arrange for a pizza to be delivered. Alone in the apartment, he spotted a text from Michael: *“Sorry.”*

The next morning, Peter forced himself back to work. “Let’s do this,” he muttered. He knew he’d need to put on 12 more kilograms to meet his next professional target. Spotting a tray of cupcakes in the office pantry, he started stuffing them into his mouth, feeling ridiculous yet resigned. After grabbing a second round, he couldn’t help but think about how unfairly the women at the office seemed to have it easier with their “normal” clients. He dialed Andy for answers.

“Why are you taking a break?” Peter asked.

Andy sighed. “I promised Calle. He’s worried about my weight, so I’m stepping back for now.”

Minutes later, Calle called Peter directly. “Hey, wanna grab lunch?”

When Calle arrived, Peter was halfway through an enormous sandwich. Mouth full, he gestured at the food and blurted some half-comprehensible explanation. Calle laughed and said, “I get it. I’ve heard all about it from Andy. No judgment. But, wow—you’ve really packed on a belly.”

Peter self-consciously patted his stomach and smirked. “Twelve more kilos to go.”

“And then what?” Calle prodded.

“Then I’m asking for normal clients,” Peter replied, half-joking.

Calle chuckled knowingly. “They’ll never let you. You’re too ‘unique’ for them to pass up. But hey, maybe you’ll get lucky. In the meantime, let me give you Andy’s secret shake recipe: two scoops of mass gainer, half a liter of vanilla ice cream, and a few heaping tablespoons of Nutella or peanut butter.”

Peter raised an eyebrow but laughed. “That’s insane.”

“It works, though,” Calle chuckled. “Just make sure this is really what you want—it’s… a lot.”

After work, Peter stopped at the supermarket. His cart brimmed with ice cream tubs, Nutella, and mass gainer. Back home, a massive KFC order awaited him. He ate until he could barely move. For dessert, he blended Calle’s shake recipe, sipping it down in strained gulps before collapsing, bloated and exhausted, onto his bed.

The next day at work, Peter crossed paths with Damian, who was devouring a cupcake like his life depended on it. “Want one?” Damian asked, handing Peter a treat without waiting for an answer. “This isn’t all—I’ve also got a family-sized tub of Magnolia banana pudding. You want half?”

Peter hesitated, already full, but Damian didn’t take no for an answer. Peter shoveled down his share, marveling at how Damian ate in a hypnotic rhythm, bite after bite. As Peter struggled, Damian patted his belly. “Eat up, big guy. We’ve got goals.”

By evening, Peter reluctantly joined Damian for a workout, still groaning from the day’s food. In the locker room, he was stunned to see how much Damian had grown. The once-toned ex-jock was now sporting a massive gut, stretched taut with faint marks.

“Dude,” Damian grinned, eyeing Peter’s softened belly. “That looks hot.”

Peter blushed, and Damian stepped closer, sparks igniting between them as they began kissing. They broke apart when someone entered, both fumbling into their workout clothes, tension thick in the room.

After a tense workout, they went home together, ordering XL pizzas and devouring them alongside buffalo wings and ice cream before surrendering to their mutual attraction. In the afterglow of their intimacy, Damian confessed, “I’ve always cared for you more than I let on. But when you became Michael’s protégé, I thought you were out of reach.”

Peter hesitated, then admitted, “I didn’t know. But… maybe we can try now?”

Damian smiled. “Let’s see where this weird job takes us. But for now, let’s hit our goals.”

They opened another pint of ice cream, blending it into a calorie-packed shake. Damian handed it to Peter, encouraging him to gulp it down, whispering promises that mixed seduction with hunger. Peter, torn between discomfort and desire, swallowed through the pain, letting Damian’s mouth guide him. He came like he had never had before.

Stay tuned for part 3

[growingstories]

Do you really want it?

After Calle graduated from university he landed a job at an accountancy firm in his hometown Stockholm. He is a young, fit and handsome guy and at 23 years old he realized that he was too young to just sit behind a desk and spend his good years there just to climb the corporate ladder. He decided to save most of his money and go for a two years finance master in NYC. He worked his ass off, woke up at 7am go to the gym, made overtime and gets home at 9pm for the next day to be the same. After a year he got admitted at a very fancy private business school and left for two years to the States. His parents were not rich but supported him where they could and promissed him to pay his dorm room the first year. In his dorm he met his roommate Peter, a handsome slender tall guy that was about to start his senior year. Peter was a year younger then Calle and clearly worked-out quiet often.

September

Peter told him he would be going to a members only club that evening and asked Calle to join, his old roommate Damian from a a year ago invited him. In the bar Damian warmly hugged Peter, that was surprised Damians new look. Damian was dramatically larger than a year ago. His sixpack was burried under a big prominent belly. Peter patted Damians belly jokingly, saying that life was good to him. Damian had landed a job at an investment banker. Damian told the two guys that it was heaven on earth, there is a huge gym with heavy weights, they pay for everything, have amazing lunches, dinners and parties and most of the guys are gay as the two founders are gay too. They make sure you have everything you need. They are generous on bonuses and let you travel often. They even have a tailor coming in every three months. Damian adviced Peter to keep an eye out as the two founders often recruited their new employees from this club. Damian also asked if Peter already found a new boyfriend, but Peter told him no, he said that was looking for a 6`3 finance guy with a thrust fund. Damian laughed and said that a few of his colleagues fit the profile and would introduce them. Damian said that he was still single too but the office was a candy store for single gays.

Damian introduced a couple of his colleagues to Peter and Calle. They were all very friendly and handsome. All were pretty big guys, not unfit but most were carrying pretty big bellies, like ex-jocks that still often lift heavy weights in the gym. Funny what a good tailored suit can do, even unattractive guys look better with a good suit. Not all his colleagues were gay but they liked the attention and kept the booze flowing. Bottle after bottle was ordered and fried snacks kept on coming. Peter was talking to a guy he knew from their school that also worked with Damian. And Calle was talking to Diego, an older guy that worked for the company the longest. As the night progressed the guys were getting drunk and were challenging eachother to eat more and more snacks. Calle and Peter drank but kept it moderate. 

Peter and Calle woke up the next morning and Peter suggested a workout and a breakfast. After the workout Calle saw Peter’s body naked, it was nice and buff. Not too ripped but a sixpack was visible and two huge pecs very prominent. His dick was massive too. In a diner Peter ordered a protein loaded breakfast and Calle copied his order. They were talking about the guys they met. Peter mentioned that he was surprised to that Damian got so big in only a year. Damian used to be that star athlete of campus and showed a picture, he was indeed a catch. But looked like he completely let go.

Also the other guy used to be very fit but gained a lot of weight since working at the investment bank. Peter said that he couldn’t understand how someone gets so fat when you have a gym and good caterer. 

Oktober

Classes started and the following weeks Calle and Peter only saw eachother in the gym, at night in their room and on Fridays for after work drinks on Fridays. After a month Damian invited Peter and Calle again and they went to the members club again. Damian walked in, clearly bigger than last month.

Peter greeted him and poked his belly, telling him to join the office gym more often like they did. Damian laughed it away, he told him not to worry, it’s just the first few years. They want me to attent every client lunch and dinner and the assistants bring constant flows of snacks and drinks. He just needs to get back on track soon as soon as he reached his annual targets in order to get his bonus. He introduced Calle to Andy, a young big guy that had been working at the firm for a few years now. Calle was struck and started flirting. There was something about a nice suit, big muscular guy with a big fat gut. He never really had a type but thought he found it.

And it was mutual, Andy was all over Calle. He was doing everything he could to impress Calle. Bought him champagne, caviar, showered him with compliments. Calle was getting increasingly tipsy and clearly impressed by Andy. Andy invited him home, Calle willingly agreed. Andy drove a very fancy Porsche. Before heading home he wanted to go through the drive-in. He ordered a massive amount of food before asking Calle if he wanted some too, Calle said no. Andy was surprised and said, if you want bigger muscles you need to fuel them. Calle smiled but was persistent.

Before they reached Andy’s house, Andy already devoured 3 Big Macs and a big coke. At home he inhaled a family sized box chicken nuggets and the fries. When he was almost full he flushed it down with a big milkshake. He finally was full and started kissing Calle. Calle was aroused by the greedy guy. Andy undressed Calle and liked what he saw. A ripped 25 years old Scandinavian hunk with a big dick. He started sucking him and right before Calle was about to come he started undressing himself. His fancy tailored outfit hid a an impressive body. Broad shoulders, thick arms, huge pecs that rested on a big round belly, tree trunk legs and an amazing round ass. Calle couldn’t hold himself and jumped onto the big guy. Andy lifted Calle like it was nothing and turned him on his belly. He lubed his dick and entered Calle. It was pain and pleasure combined. It didn’t take long until both of them came. They feel asleep after and the next morning Calle woke up by the smell of fresh bacon. He saw Andy in his underwear cooking, he immediately turned hard again. A big muscular ass, treetrunk legs and footballerlike torso. Andy told him to contain himself, he first wanted breakfast. Breakfast was 10 scrambled eggs, a pound of bacon and a thick protein shake. Calle took a protein shake and some coffee. The shake was thick and sweet. He asked Andy what it was, it was his magic muscle potion. It was mass gainer, peanut butter, creatine, macadamia nuts and full fat chocolate milk. It was delicious but Calle was full after a few sips. Andy drank the rest. He started kissing Calle and orderen him to suck him off. When he came he said it was time to go. Andy told him he would love to see him but he will be in Dubai for the coming 6 weeks so he will let him know when he’s back. He will close a big deal and get his targets for the year. 

Calle went back to his dorm and was in love. When he came back he found Damian in his bed. Damian and Peter blushed when Calle came in. Stammering about what had happened, it was clear that the two had a romantic night. Calle laughed and proposed to go to the gym. The two guys agreed and got out of bed. Butt naked, Damian had a strong body with a nice chest, thick legs and a round gut. Not as Andy but not bad. Damian wanted to use some of Peters gym clothes but when putting it on he forgot how fat he got. He couldn’t even get the shorts over his round ass. I offered him a stretchy grey sweatsshort that was skintight on him and a tanktop that hardly covered his belly. The sight was hot but Calle had to pretend not to care. Damian was an attraction in the gym, all his former buddies came to say hi. The lifts that he had were strong, it was clear that the office gym was being used. They only eat too much Calle assumed.

The next week he didn’t hear anything from Andy. He assumed he wasn’t interested. Right before Peter and Calle were getting drinks in a bar on Friday the week after Andy texted and said, where are you going? Ill order you a bottle of champagne. Calle told Peter and Peter said, lets make the best of it and lets go to a fancy place. At the bar he mentioned Andy and the bartender put the bottle on a private table, enjoy guys! And the two had a fun night. 

November

The weeks progressed and Calle and Peter both hardly heard from their “dates”. Both were abroad and very unavailable. But after almost 6 weeks, as Andy promissed, he texted Calle that he was back in town and would love to see him. Maybe Peter and Calle could come to the members club that night. Peter didn’t hear from Damian and was down but he would join. At the club the two found Damian and Andy chatting, both were bloated and possibly fatter than 6 weeks ago. Peter was upset that Damian didnt text him but gave him a hug. And Andy hugged Calle rough. Calle was happy to see him but also concerned, his big friend got much bigger in such short of time.

Calle looked at Andy’s belly, Andy saw his look and told him that closing the deal meant that he had lunches and dinners every day for the last 6 weeks. But he closed the deal, reached his target for the year and will receive a bonus as big as a new apartment. Damian told Peter the same. Calle and Andy went home after a short while, both aroused and couldn’t wait to have more sex.

On the way Andy drove to the drive-in again. Calle asked him if he wasn’t big enough. Andy told him not to worry, he likes to be big and bossy. And in the office the bigger guys are seen as more senior. He also said that if he didn’t like it, Calle could just go home. But Calle liked it but also realized that this lifestyle wasn’t healthy on the long run. Andy realized that but he would retire before its unhealthy and he ordered even more than last time. The sex was insane again. And the next morning Calle woke up with the smell of bacon again. This time it wasnt only eggs and shake, Andy had orderen fresh pastries  too. He devoured it like it was nothing. His belly was bloated and he had a hardon. He ordered Calle to lay on his belly to be fucked again. CAlle couldnt wait. That Saturday they stayed in and the day was a blur. It was filled with food, Netflix and chill. Calle felt home and loved pleasing Andy. Andy was constantly stuffed and Calle liked it. 

Sunday night Calle returned to his dorm and found Peter. Peter was excited to share that Damian introduced him to his manager and that he might get an introduction. Everyday that week Andy and Calle saw eachother, Andy picked up Peter from school and they went to fancy restaurants. Andy payed for everything and was known in every restaurant they went to. Andy ordered massive amounts of food and was a treated like a king wherever they went to. It was amazing to be together. On Friday they went to the club again were Peter and Damian were as well. They had a fun night. Andy told Calle that he would have to go to Dubai again for a last minute deal before the year would end. It would mean that he probably would stay there until Christmas and return home. He offered Calle to stay in his apartment and use his car in the meanwhile. Calle was excited and sad. That night Andy and Calle had another night together loaded with food and sex. The morning after Calle dropped Andy off at the airport. He picked up Peter from his dorm to make a tour. Damian invited the two at the members club again. They were greeted by Damian and his colleagues. Peter was struck by a guy he never saw before, he flirted from the corner of his eyes but felt guilty as Damian was there too. But the guy was bold and came over, he told Damian to introduce them. Damian was struck and introduced him as Michael, the founder of the bank. Michael was a tall handsome guy, somewhere in his 30s or beginning 40s. He was the most handsome guy he had ever seen even with the little belly he carried. He was skinnier than most of the guys that worked for the firm. Peter stammered, and introduced himself. They were chatting away about economics and politics. Calle left as he couldn’t get a single word in, even Damian couldn’t even talk with them. So Damian left as well. 

Peter and Michael left for another bar and kissed that night. Peter went to his dorm by himself as Calle was in Andy’s apartment. He went to the gym the next day and received a text from Michael, Dinner tonight? Peter was excited and confirmed. Damian texted only to say that he was leaving for Europe and will be back before Christmas. Peter wished him good luck. He met Michael in a fancy sushi place. They had a very fun evening. They kissed again and Michael dropped him off at his dorm. Peter texted the next day to thank him and he immediately got a reply asking, Dinner at my place tonight? He confirmed. Michael and Peter had a very nice evening for two. They kissed and had a romantic night in bed. Michael was all over Peter, he loved every bit of Peters perfect sculpted abs and muscular young body. And Peter loved Michaels ex-jock look. The hot pecs and the cute round beer belly, a round ball of fat. Michael said, promise me that you will never get fat. Peter said, i wont, im fat to vain and active. Michael said, dont let my employees challenge you. Live is not a competition. 

The next morning Michael said to Peter, listed, I wanna keep seeing you and I know you want to have a meeting with the recruiter but I have a better idea. You will work on my team, don’t let anyone know about us. You will be in my assistant team but no one can know that I’m gay as most of our clients are Arabs. It’s just parttime so you can finish your uni and then we will discuss the future. Peter confirmed. The next day he got an email with instructions and a NDA that said that everything discussed and send is highly confidential. Especially anything Michael says or does.

Calle was enjoying Andy’s apartment. He went to the gym, cooked, studied and enjoyed the luxury apartment. He hardly heard from Andy but Andy showered him with gifts instead. A new laptop, flowers, perfume, those things. He heard that Peter was hired as Michaels assistant and realized that they would probably hardly see eachother. He invited him over to celebrate. That night they agreed that Peter would get Calle in the firm too as soon as Calle would be at his finals. That would take at least another year or so. 

Peter arrived the first day at his job, he met the other assistant, two very pretty girls in expensive clothes and blowdried hair. It was a beautiful office that was one wing of the building. It looked like a classic French livingroom equiped with lounge corner, meeting room, 4 desks, a main desk and private bathroom and shower. They explained the daily program and what Michael expected. When Michael arrived they had his coffee and some pastries waiting. He came in in gym clothes, stepped on the scale and one of the girls wrote it down. He went into his own shower, got dressed and explained the agenda. All the new info was tiring for Peter. Michael took him out for lunch and ordered a chicken salad for Peter and steak and frites for himself. It was fun and Peter liked how dominant Michael was. Michael expected Peter to study during office hours, go to the gym everyday and see him at his house every night. Eventhough Michael sometimes had late night meetings. It was a tough schedule but Peter liked it. Together with the girls they planned Michaels whole life and informed him on all the reports. They were a secluted area of the company. Only during meetings they saw other people. Peter and the girls were expected to take notes on important meetings. He learned about all the projects. Also the projects overseas were discussed. The amounts of money they discussed were insane. Million after million of revenue came in to invest. The food buffets around those meetings were insane, he saw all the guys digging in. Their own assistants sometimes even brought in milkshakes or pastries. They were just constantly eating and working. Even if they were behind their desks they were pampered. Peter and the girls were forbitten to eat. Even Michael hardly touched it. Andy and Damian were also discussed during the meetings. Their accounts were bringing in the biggest amounts.

When he came home Michael ordered him to step on the scale. Peter was surprised. He asked why and Michael said, i just dont want you to get fat. From now on you I will weight you every day. You are only allowed to add muscle. Peter agreed and was layed on his belly and got fucked by Michael. His dominance was very exciting. 

December

The days and the weeks flew by and Peters body was getting better due to his health regime and all the gym visits. Michael stayed the same although he might have gained a few pounds but Peter didnt mind.

It was the last week before Christmas and Andy asked Calle to pick him up from the airport. Calle made sure that they had a romantic dinner at home together. At the airport he was surprised when he saw Andy. Andy was clearly bigger again.

The surprised was brushed off when Andy hugged him. It was so nice to see him back and they went home. They had very passionate sex bit Andy felt much bigger on top of Calle. He was even out of breath at some point. The fell asleep in eachothers arms right after. The morning after Calle had breakfast for Andy but it wasnt enough. Andy ordered in some more pastries. Calle suggested to go to the gym but Andy had other plans with Calle and took him back to bed. That night they went to the club again where they met Damian. Damian had also clearly gained more weight. Calle decided not to say anything to either of them. Peter walked in a saw Damian and Andy, his eyes popped out of their sockets. He was suprised to see both guys so fat. Calle said, I know what youre thinking.

Peter replied saying that there most be something going on as everyone in the company is eating like there is no tomorrow. But everyone is so secretive and as im Michaels assistant no one tells me anything. Calle said, you on the otherhand look amazing! Beefed up! Peter blushed and replied, yes, Michael is very strict on his assistants. But I like it.

March

As the new year rolled in Peter and Calle were working their asses off, gym, school, work, relationships. Now that they had boyfriends they hardly went out. Andy was out on a business trip for two full months. They tried facetime a few times but he was always with others. After 8 weeks Calle picked him up and was couldnt believe his eyes. He new Andy grew but this time the amount of weight was insane. Andy saw his face and said, sorry babe, it got out of hand. The growing will soon stop Andy replied. 

During those two months Peter and Michael practically lived together. Michael decided everything Peter ate. While Michael had a more relaxed eating lifestyle Michael had Peter on a very strict protein diet. The office caterers made sure to prepare a very calculated meal program. In restaurants Michael orders everything for Peter. Peter only had to agree and show up. Peter and Michael had both their work and their private life. No one in the office new about. Peter’s body was perfectly sculpted and Michael’s stayed the same. Still everyday he stepped on the scale. After a while Peter became more persistent about Michael obsession with the scale. Michael said, someday I will explain. 

April

After three months of traveling Damian was back in town invited his two buddies to the club. When they showed up they first didn’t recognise Damian. Untill he started waving. He was huge, he gained even more weight than Andy. The two guys said, its time to explain something. Damian said, soon it will be done. They said that it was the third time someone told them that, they demanded more information. Damian said that the only thing he can say that it involves an insane amount of money. He was sweating. But the two guys were confused but happy to have sort of an answer. As the night continued the three guys got increasingly more tipsy. Before he knew it Damian blurred out that there would be a new job opening as a junior account manager and Peter would be perfect. Peters eyes lit up. In three months right before summer they would hire someone. When Peter got home he saw Michael and told him about he opening. Michael hardly reacted and said that he didnt know about it but if he wanted it he should apply. They didnt have sex like normally and just went to bed. The next morning Peter asked why he wasnt excited, Michael replied, saying that he knew his employees and didnt really want Peter to be part of it. Besides, they would probably see eachother much less. Peter hadnt thought about that that. But he did want to start his carreer somewhere good. He did send in his application to start the hiring process.

It was already end March and Andy got back from another month of traveling. He was again bigger. Calle didnt even mention it. He was just happy to see his big boyfriend back. They went out for dinner and got pretty tipsy. Andy ordered the biggest steak on the menu and had 3 desserts.

His buttons were almost popping after the third dessert. The sight made Calle horny. Andy saw Calle’s excitement and had a hardon under the table and quickly asked for the bill. At home they ripped off eachothers clothes amd had amazing sex. That night Andy had trouble sleeping, his weight made him struggle breathing. Calle said, I love you, i think youre sexy but maybe its time to lose weight. Andy said not yet. Calle asked why, Andy said, i a few weeks I can tell you. Calle got upset, he said, Andy, tell me whats going on. This cant continue. Andy said, ok but I have a very strict contract with big punishments if I share info, so i will share some bit not all. The risk is too big. Calle agreed. So I have this client the invests millions and millions of dollars into the bank. As soon as I reach a certain weight he will invest a $100.000.000 and I will receive a kickback of $5.000.000. Calle was silent. He said, jezus, this is not a joke, it’s your health. Andy said absolutely but if I continue this for a few more months I have enough money to retire and do whatever I want. Calle said, ok and how much more do you need gain? Andy said, if I gain 50lbs in the coming two months i reached my goal. Calle was struck. Both couldnt sleep anymore and Calle started scrolling online about weight gain. The next morning Calle had a plan, I will help you. I ordered mass gainers, peanutbutter, and an oxygen machine. You will be huge within these 2 months but promisse me you will keep going to the gym. Andy agreed.

That morning they went to Starbucks and ordered the creamiest and largest coffee, eggmuffins and a few pieces of pie. Andy ate willingly. The afternoon Calle went for a run and got home all sweaty with a big bag of McDonalds. Andy ripped of Calle’s shirt and wanted to fuck his perfect ass but said, only after you finished this. Andy laughed and started. He was full halfway but saw Calle taking his shirt off. He kept pushing himself and started to feel sick. It hurt he moaned, Calle said, comon big boy, you can do this. He kept pushing and after last bite he layed himself on the bed. His belly bloated and pushed out like a big ball of fat. Calle started stroking his dick. He didnt have to do a lot before Andy came and fell asleep. Later that day Calle woke him up, get up big boy, we’re gonna do groceries. They went to Wallmart and loaded in pounds of steaks, butter, mayonaise, heavy rich cakes, tubs of icecreams and XL buckets of Nutella. When they got home the massgainers had arrived too. Calle started by making a Nutella gainershake with some vanilla icecream. It was the sweatest and thickest shake Andy had ever had. But he drank half a liter of the calorie loaded shake. It kept him full until dinner. Calle served him a huge steak fried in a insane amount of butter. He baked potatoes and served them with buckets of mayo. Eat up big boy, we have a dessert waiting for you and lifted his shirt. Andy started eating. The extra fat made him feel full extra fast. But he kept going. As soon as he devoured the big piece of steak Calle came in with a big peanutbutter chocolate pie. If you eat this fast enough you’ll be lucky he said. He started digging from the whole cake. He hardly chewed the rich cake. When he slowed down Calle gave him mountain dew to wash it away. Half way the cake he gave up, his bloated belly showed from under his t-shirt. Calle undressed him and ordered Andy to fuck him. After only a few thrusts Andy could hardly breath. He came again within minutes and fell asleep. 

These new feeding sessions became the new routine. Andy wasnt traveling that month and went to the office for gym and meetings. The meetings had big buffets and his colleagues were challenging him to eat bigger meals. At night Calle waited with huge rich dinners finished with calorie loaded mass gainer shakes. Every day he would put in a bit more nutella and mass gainer. The dessert was Calle. Often Andy was too out of breath and just had to lay on his back while Calle did the work. Sleeping went much better now that Andy had his oxygen machine. During the weekends Calle went to the gym, went to Wallmart and picked up mountains of burgers. At home he made huge shakes for Andy while he was devouring the burgers. They were finished with sex and cupcakes.  

Halfway through April Peter got an invitation for a meeting with the recruiter. Michael asked if he really wanted it, Peter said yes. Ok said Michael, i will write you a recommendation, but you will not gain weight or we will be over. I do not want a fat boyfriend. Peter was confused, and said of course not. I will keep doing my daily routine. Michael said, ok I will keep weighing you and I don’t wanna hear you complaint if things go grim. A few days later he went into the office early and had a meeting with the recruiter. He was offered a drink and a pastry that he declined. Then he had to sign a contract. He was not allowed to talk about any of the information. The recruiter said that he received the recommendation, you must be good if the boss writes you one. The meeting was tough, they roasted him. They kept asking how he would deal with demanding clients. He kept saying that he would do anything but they were hesitant. After the meeting they said that they would need at least two weeks to see all the applicants and that they will call him after that. When he saw Michael that night he raised his concerns about his interview. Michael said that it was a very demanding job and that he should really think about if he is ready to change his whole life. It’s easy now with Michael, and if he wants he could even get a bit more responsibility and a raise. It sounded appealing and he will think about it. 

May 

The weeks were a blur for Andy, he was used to eating large meals with his clients but this was new. Calle challenged him in every way. He had never felt as full as Calle’s feeding sessions. Every meal stretched him to a new limit. The meals got more calorie dense every day. And their sexlife has never been this good. Calle pushed all his buttons. He felt his body grow every day. Sometimes he would panic if he saw his reflection in the mirror. He has never been stick thin but there were times that he was flaunting a sixpack on the beach. The reflection made him panic about his health more than his appearance. Calle made his large frame feel sexy and masculine. The gym sessions kept him strong. Calle was the only one that was allowed to see the scale, besides, Andy couldn’t see past his belly any longer. This made Calle more in charge of his body. 

Peter got a call from the recruiter, saying that he was through to the next round but it was a long shot. The next meeting would be in two weeks. They mentioned that they were still doubting if he really wanted it but the second meeting would be an assignment, he would receive learning material within a few days. Michael had become colder and colder towards Peter. They didn’t have sex that often any more and Michael aften went out late at night. Sometimes he would ask the other assistants if there were other guys in Michaels agenda but they said that there weren’t. When he received the material for the interview he immediately started reading. During his regular work and the meetings Peter attended in the office Peter tried to reach out to a few of the senior accountmanagers, to see if they had tricks. Unfortunately they werent really interested. They just did their thing, presented their numbers, went to the buffet, and went on with their day behind their desks or at client meetings. He thought that they must be under a lot of pressure if they didnt even have time to socialize with juniors. That day he bumped into Andy in the office. Andy was huge, he was clearly fatter but his muscles were also bulking. He was sweating and of breath from his walk from the parking towards his desk. Peter offered to get him something and Andy replied that he saw that there was an Oreo cheesecake in the kitchen and that he would looove a big piece with a Frappuccino with a double shot of mocca caramel from the coffeeshop. Peter understood the assignment and realized that if he wanted more info he would have to get it. And so he did. He went down to the coffeeshop, ordered a XL Frappuccino and cut a ridiculously large piece from the cake and brought it to Andy. When it was in front of Andy he said, ok now tell me, how do I get the job. Andy first replied with his mouth full that he wasn’t allowed to talk about it. Peter took away the plate and treathened to throw it in the bin. Andy greedily said, ok ok, I will give you some info but first give me the plate. Peter handed him a fork with a big chunk and said, step by step mister. Andy said ok, never say no to anything they offer you. Peter cut off a second large chunk. Andy said, be aware that they own you as long as you work for them and tell them that you will be submissive to their demands. A third chunks was got off, now tell me Andy, what do you mean. Andy said, if you’re lucky clients will only kiss sometimes, if you’re unlucky you might have to lose that perfect sixpack. Now thats the end, I shared more than im allowed. Peter gave him the rest of the cake and left his office. He was confused, how can they own someone he thought? And was that the reason why so many of the seniors were fat? He wondered. 

The morning before the interview Michael had already left for the office. Peter was nervous and insecure, he started realizing that all the food and the weight gain of his Damian and Andy was part of their deal. He didn’t want to lose Michael but he did want a promotion. He decided to see where it would go. Right before the interview Andy walked up to him, saying, listen Peter, whatever they offer you, just take it. They will ask silly questions but they wanna see how far you will go. He became even more nervous. He walked in the room and saw two guys he had never seen, they introduced themselves but he forgot their names, he was struck by their handsome appearance. He understood that they were from the Middle Eastern office and they told him that his role would focus on the Middle Eastern clients. One of them called to the reception and ordered coffee, within a few minutes they brought in three cups of coffee. Then the assistant brought in a large tray of millionaire shortbread. The assistant only offered Peter and Peter took one. The assistant put the tray in front in of Peter and left. They started chatting and the two guys were incredible charming. They discussed all kind of subjects. From fancy clothes to food to cars and watches. They kept offering the shortbread seductively and hospitable. Peter ate willingly, since dating Michael he hardly ate something sweet and let alone unhealthy. He started to feel full but kept stuffing the shortbread in. After what must have been an hour they asked what he wanted for lunch, one of them mentioned to order some steak for the protein goal. Peter said to join the steak. The conversation went easy and friendly and at the moment he finished the plate of shortbread the same assistant came in and prepared the table for the lunch. It was prepared with real solver and expensive linnen napkins. Shortly after he came in with a trolly with heath lamp and a huge piece of prepared steak and started cutting the big piece of meat. Another assistant came in with a plate of salade and served the three man, in the meanwhile the first assistant served the steak, perfectly cooked. He got served a big portion and saw that the guys were served half of what he had. The other assistant the came in with a large bowl of fries and served it on top of his plate and put a bowl of mayonaise next to it. They kept the conversation running and slowly ate their food. Peter wanted to make sure he ate everything so he didn’t disappoint. He kept thinking about Andy’s remark. He felt uncomfortably full and let out a sigh after finishing half of the meat. The assistant came in and served he the exact amount of meat and another mountain of fries. Peter started to become nervous and started sweating a bit. He asked for a drink, so he could wash away easier. He brought in a big glass of coke. Peter saw the two guys grinning to eachother while he was struggling to stuff in the meat and fries ik his mouth. He could only hear them talking about staying abroad often but could hardly respond as he tried to eat as fast as he could.

The moment he wanted to give up one of the guys said, I hope you enjoyed it and saved some room for dessert. Grinning more. Peter’s forehead was drenched by sweat and could only knot yes. The assistant took away his unfinished plate and topped up his coke which he happily sipped from for some relieve. The guys asked, are you ready to take on the job? Peter wanted to reply but the assistant came in with big bowl of chocolate mouse. The assistent scooped a big portion on his plate. Peter knotted and started eating the mouse. He just wanted the conversation to be over. They brought out the contract and put it in front of him. We will give you some time to read. He started reading but could hardly focus. It mentioned salary increase, bonusses, transport, representation, clothes. It was blurry as he was too full to think. He was looking for a pen, one of the guys walked back it and said, looking for this? The assistant came in behind him and gave and put the big bowl of mouse in front of him. The guy said, let’s see how far you can get before you can sign. Peter wanted to throw up but realized it eating or nothing. His stomach was aching and he sweating all over, but he kept eating. He became a mess, there was chocolate all over his face. As soon as the last bite was in his mouth he was handed over the pen and signed. He collapsed and fell in a food coma on. A few minutes later Andy woke him up and said, hi there partner. I just got informed that you will take over my Middle East clients, I will prep you and in two weeks you will join me for a trip to Dubai. 

He was happy but only wanted to lay down. He called in sick and went home for the rest of the day. When Michael got home later that night he congratulated Peter, he said, I will give it a chance but remember what I told you. Now get undressed so I can congratulate you properly. The next morning Peter woke up still bloated, Michael told him to step on the scale. Michael wrote it down and ordered him to go to to the gym and a run today. Peter felt embarrassed but agreed. 

In the office Peter met up with Andy to go over all the details. Peter started asking all kinds of questions, but Andy told him to wait and see. That day the tailor came into the office and started taking Peter’s sizes. He said something like to make his clothes bigger as he new by experience that newbies would gain a bit of weight in the beginning. Peter told the tailor to just go for his regular sizes as he would not gain weight. The tailor just laughed. Andy told him to make sure to bring swimwear too. He would be in the heat for at least 4 weeks. 

June

The two weeks before Peter’s departure were a blur. All the things he had to arrange and go over with Andy and his normal assistant work for Michael. Ever since he signed the offer Michael was all over him, every spare minute he wanted sex. Like it would be the last time. On the day of his departure Michael hugged him and said take care. Andy and Peter boarded the plane and made themselves comfortable in the large businessclass seats, they even looked small when Andy sat down. When they arrived in Dubai there was a Rolls Royce waiting for them. It drove out of the city towards a big compound. They were greeted by a handsome butler and each brought to a room. Through the windows of a hallway in on of the side buildings of the compound he saw a huge outside gym. He saw a big handsome guy with a trendy oversized gymshirt, mist be the trainer Peter thought. When they arrived at their suites the butler told them to relax the rest of the day and be dressed for dinner. Andy knew his way around and asked if he could get some lunch as he was starving. He also suggested to eat it at the pool. Their wing had it’s own pool. The butler suggested that Peter would have some lunch too. Andy said to quickly change to swimwear. They sat down on two comfy lounge chairs. Two handsome servers brought a trolley with two large burgers and fries and a big milkshake, just how you like it Mr. Andy.  They both dug in and Andy almost inhaled the food. Peter didn’t even have one third when Andy finished already. Andy told Peter to hurry as dessert will be served soon. Peter started to eat faster but couldn’t handle the pace. Halfway through his plate dessert was served, two large bowls of fresh tiramisu. Andy lounged back on the chair and balanced his bowl on top of his belly. His belly was a sight. Peter was surprised by the mountain of fat. He got aroused by Andy’s masculinity. Andy ordered Peter not to slow down. When Peter started his tiramisu Andy already ordered a second one and some ice cream to top it off. The moment Peter finished his dessert Andy suggested a nice nap.

At dinner they were awaited by their client. Ahmed, a handsome beefy guy. He greeted Andy with a hug. He said well Andy, by the looks of it you deserve the investment. So walk with the butler so he can take your measurements. Peter why don’t you join them so we will take yours too. Andy undressed to his underwear and stepped on the scale. He could not see what it said but the butler wrote it down. Peter did the same. If said 90kg, that was 10kg heavier than when he first started dating Michael he thought. His body was perfectly sculpted by bulging muscles.

They got dressed again and went back to Ahmed that was waiting for them with a buffet filled with appetizers. He ordered them to dig in. They piled their plates and sat down. Now start eating said Ahmed. They dug in while Ahmed shared the results. Now Andy, congratulations, as proposed we will invest $100.000.000 as soon as you reached your goalweight of 170kg and even gained 10kg more. You will receive a personal kick-back of $5.000.000. Peter suddenly realized what was happening. The client was playing a sadist game and wanted to see how far people would go for money, it clearly worked. Peter froze and realized that it was his turn now as he would take over from Andy. He couldn’t eat any more. Ahmed made Andy another offer, as you will be here to guide Peter to take over from you, we will offer you another personal kickback of $500.000 for every kilo you gain the coming 4 weeks. Andy smiled, he said, that will cost you hehe. 

Now Peter, as you know your first target is an investment of $1.000.000. We are willing to invest that if you gain at least 5kg the coming 5 weeks. Your personal kickback will be $100.000 if you can reach that. Every 100grams above that will add another $10.000. Peter almost got sick hearing the offer. He hardly ate and spoke during the dinner while Andy devoured plate after plate. he got increasingly bloated during the dinner. He was finally full after three huge bowls of chocolate mouse. Ahmed excused the two and let them get back to their rooms. He told them to be ready after breakfast tomorrow for a few days on his yacht. He told the butler to prepare their luggage.

While they walked back to their room, Andy said, Peter, it doesnt matter how you gain the weight, if it’s fat or muscle or both. Just do it. If you leave without the investment they will put you on London clients and they are more grimm. They will want you to date them or worse and the investments are not that lucrative. There is a gym on the compound with a full time personal trainer, he can also help you gain weight. He might even have some bodybuilding tricks for that.

Peter told Andy that Michael doesn’t want a fat boyfriend. Andy said that he was in the same situation as he used to date Michael too, so let me tell you a story. Michael want two things, money and a hot twink boyfriend. He will dump you when you gain weight or get old but will shower you with bonusses if you make him more money. Think about it. 5 to 10 years of these clients and you can retire. He will dump you in 5 years anyway because you will be too old for him too. And Michael has a an agreement with the Arabs too, 15 years ago when Michael started the company he was sculpted like a god. They made him gain weight too in order to invest in his funds. They offered him a kickback of $25.000.000 if he gained 50kg in total, and guess what, he did. And to top it off, they pay him a $1.000.000 a year not to lose any weight. And they still have an offer for him for $500.000 for every kilo he gains. But he is vain enough to just take the annual million. Instead of him gaining more he sent his boyfriend to the Arabs. It was the guy before me. A beautiful young muscular man, Eric. He sold Eric’s soul and body. They invested $500.000.000 and Eric blew up to 400kg. Within 10 years Eric was unrecognizable. He was a prize hog, and was hardly mobile. Eric became an eating money machine. After the first 10kg Eric got dumped by Michael and I came in his place.

But Eric was a money maker for Michael. The kickbacks were not that lucrative for Eric, the kickbacks went to Michael instead of Eric himself. Eric was still blindly in love with Michael and did everything Michael wanted. Eric got fatter and fatter and fatter. The Arabs loved it. Eric had fun too, he sometimes stayed in the compound for months in a row. But after 10 years Eric had to retire, he could hardly perform and walking became a problem too. He is now locked away somewhere in the South of France where Michael has a house and makes sure he’s well taken care of. Probably is still doesn’t know how much money Michael made out of him. Im sure Michael feels guilty about it. Since Eric the kickbacks come to us directly. We can even negotiate. If you like you can even start an affair here, but be warned, shut up about everything that goes on around here. And don’t become like Eric but play the game better. Do what you have to do and think of yourself. Thats what Michael does too. Now get some sleep, we will talk more during breakfast and then we will get on the boat tomorrow.

That night Peter couldn’t sleep, he thought about that guy Eric and about himself. Maybe this was not for him, but what did he sign. He wasn’t a prostitute. He studied economics and now he wants to attract investors for a fund. Nobody has to know how. At breakfast he told Adam that he will go for it. Adam said great, now that means you need to gain at least 1,3kg a week to reach your target. Its gonna be tough but not impossible. We need to get you some gainer shakes. I’ll ask the butler to pack some bottles of heavy cream, peanut butter and some proteine powder. That will do.

[malegainerstories]

The Roomate: Chapter 2

The first two weeks of college hit Carl like a freight train he hadn't seen coming.

It turned out that freedom came with a price tag, and that price was written in syllabi that seemed designed to crush his soul. Business Statistics alone had three assignments due in the first month, plus weekly quizzes. His Marketing Fundamentals professor had assigned two textbook chapters and a case study analysis for the second week. Then there was Microeconomics, Composition, and a required freshman seminar that somehow generated more work than classes that actually mattered.

Carl found himself in the library at hours he didn't know existed, his laptop screen burning his eyes as he worked through problem sets and reading assignments. The parties still happened every weekend—he wasn't about to give those up—but they meant sacrificing sleep he desperately needed. His morning runs became non-negotiable, the only thing keeping him sane, even when his body screamed for an extra hour of rest.

He'd wake up at six, force himself into his running shoes, and pound out five miles before most of campus was awake. Then it was shower, protein shake, classes until mid-afternoon, library until dinner, gym for an hour, more library, and finally collapse into bed around midnight. Weekends offered a brief respite—parties on Friday and Saturday nights, recovery and homework on Sunday.

It was exhausting. It was overwhelming.

But he was managing. Barely.

The one bright spot in his grueling schedule was Gavin. They'd hooked up twice more since that first party, and the sexual tension between them remained electric. When Carl wasn't drowning in coursework, his phone would buzz with messages that made his pulse quicken.

Thinking about you, Gavin texted one Wednesday afternoon while Carl was supposed to be reading about supply and demand curves.

Yeah? Carl replied, biting his lip.

A photo came through seconds later—Gavin shirtless in his bathroom mirror, one hand holding his phone, the other resting on his defined abs. His jeans hung low on his hips, and the V-lines pointing downward left little to the imagination.

Carl felt heat rush through him. He glanced around the library, making sure no one could see his screen, then stepped into the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt, flexed slightly, and took his own photo—his lean, muscled torso on full display, the lighting highlighting every cut and definition he'd worked so hard to maintain.

Miss this? he sent back.

Fuck yes. Friday night?

Definitely.

These exchanges became a regular occurrence, little bursts of excitement that broke up the monotony of academic pressure. Carl found himself looking forward to Gavin's messages, to the validation that came with someone that hot wanting him.

Friday night of his second week arrived like a gift from the gods. Carl had survived another round of assignments, aced a quiz in Statistics, and had the entire weekend stretching ahead of him. Well, most of the weekend—he'd have to hit the library on Sunday, but that was a problem for future Carl.

He stood in front of the mirror on his side of the room, trying to decide between two shirts. The navy blue one made his eyes pop, but the black one was tighter, showed off his arms better. Behind him, he could hear the familiar sounds of David eating—the crinkle of a bag, the crunch of chips, heavy breathing punctuated by satisfied sighs.

"Which one?" Carl asked, holding up both shirts and turning toward his roommate.

David looked up from his position on his bed, surrounded by what appeared to be an entire convenience store's worth of snacks. He'd changed since that first day—or rather, he'd gotten more comfortable. Now he often went shirtless in the room, his massive belly hanging over sweatpants that had to be specially ordered. Carl had stopped being shocked by it, though he still couldn't quite look directly at all that exposed flesh.

"Black one," David said through a mouthful of Cheetos. "Shows off the guns."

Carl grinned despite himself. "You think?"

"Dude, you're ripped. Might as well flaunt it." David grabbed a two-liter of Mountain Dew and took a long drink straight from the bottle. "Another Sigma party?"

"Yeah. Gavin invited me again."

"Gavin, huh?" David's eyes sparkled with knowing amusement. "That's like the third time this week you've mentioned him."

Carl felt his cheeks warm as he pulled on the black shirt. "We're just hooking up. Nothing serious."

"Hey, no judgment here. Get it while you can, right?" David shifted his weight, the bed frame groaning beneath him. "He hot?"

"Very."

"Nice. You got good taste."

Carl paused in the middle of styling his hair, surprised by the casual way David had just confirmed what Carl had suspected but they'd never explicitly discussed. "So you're...?"

"Gay? Yeah, man. Thought that was obvious." David laughed, his whole body jiggling with the motion. "I mean, I've been checking out the guys in the dining hall just as much as you have. Though I'm usually more focused on the food, if we're being honest."

That's an understatement, Carl thought, but he found himself smiling. "I wasn't sure. We never really talked about it."

"Well, now you know. We can compare notes on hot guys." David grabbed a bag of Doritos and ripped it open. "Though I'm guessing your type and my type are probably different."

"What's your type?"

"Guys who don't run screaming when they see me shirtless," David said with self-deprecating humor, but Carl caught the hint of genuine insecurity underneath.

An awkward silence fell between them. Carl turned back to the mirror, applying a small amount of cologne to his neck and wrists. He could see David's reflection behind him, watching him get ready with something that might have been longing or might have been simple curiosity.

"So what are you up to tonight?" Carl asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Same as every night. Got some new games downloaded, ordered Chinese food, might smoke a little later." David held up a bag of weed from his nightstand. "Living the dream."

"You ever think about going out? There are parties all over campus."

David snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure that would go great. Fat guy shows up, everyone suddenly remembers they have somewhere else to be."

"That's not—" Carl started, but David cut him off.

"Dude, it's fine. I know what I am. I'm not delusional." He shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. "Besides, I'm happy here. Got everything I need."

Carl wanted to argue, to say something encouraging, but what could he say? That David should lose weight? That he should try harder? That seemed cruel, and besides, David seemed genuinely content with his lifestyle, even if Carl couldn't understand it.

"What are you playing?" Carl asked instead, nodding toward David's gaming setup.

"Just downloaded the new Elden Ring DLC. You play?"

"I used to be obsessed with Dark Souls in high school."

David's face lit up. "No shit? Dude, Dark Souls is like my favorite game of all time. What build did you run?"

And just like that, they were off. Carl found himself sitting on the edge of David's bed—carefully, because he wasn't sure it could handle both their weights—talking about video games. They discovered they'd both played the same games growing up: Halo, Mass Effect, The Last of Us. They'd both cried at the same parts, raged at the same boss fights, made the same choices in dialogue trees.

"Okay, but Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi?" David asked, transitioning seamlessly from games to movies.

"Empire, obviously. Darker, better character development, that twist—"

"Yes! Thank you!" David gestured enthusiastically with a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a box Carl hadn't noticed him open. "Everyone always says Jedi because of the Ewoks or whatever, but Empire is objectively superior."

"The Ewoks are the worst part of the original trilogy."

"Preach."

They kept talking—about movies, TV shows, music. Carl was surprised to discover that David was funny, genuinely funny, with a quick wit and a self-awareness that made his jokes land perfectly. He did spot-on impressions of their professors, had hilarious stories about his high school D&D group, and could quote entire scenes from The Office from memory.

Carl glanced at his phone and realized with shock that forty-five minutes had passed. He was going to be late to the party.

"Shit, I gotta go," he said, standing up and grabbing his keys.

"Have fun, man. Use protection." David winked, and Carl laughed.

"I'll try not to wake you when I get back."

"Dude, I'll be up until like four AM. We should game sometime, if you're ever around."

"Yeah," Carl said, and was surprised to realize he meant it. "That could be cool."

As he headed out the door, Carl found himself thinking that David was actually a pretty fun guy. Sure, he was still grossed out by the constant eating, the labored breathing, the way David's body seemed to expand a little more each day. But underneath all that excess was someone Carl could actually be friends with.

It was a strange realization.

The party was in full swing by the time Carl arrived. The Sigma house pulsed with bass-heavy music, and bodies packed every room. Carl spotted Gavin almost immediately—he was hard to miss, standing near the makeshift bar in a tight white t-shirt that showed off his build.

"There he is," Gavin said, pulling Carl in for a kiss that tasted like beer and promise. "Thought you weren't coming."

"Got caught up talking to my roommate."

"The fat guy?" Gavin made a face. "That sucks, man. You should request a room change."

Carl felt a flicker of defensiveness that surprised him. "He's actually pretty cool."

"If you say so." Gavin handed him a beer. "Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

He led Carl through the crowd to where another guy stood—tall, blonde, with the kind of chiseled features that belonged on magazine covers. He wore a fitted button-down with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that suggested serious gym time.

"Carl, this is Tyler. Tyler, Carl."

Tyler's eyes traveled down Carl's body appreciatively. "Gavin's told me about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Very good things." Tyler's smile was predatory in the best way. "He mentioned you might be interested in some... company tonight."

Carl's pulse quickened. He looked at Gavin, who was watching him with hooded eyes, then back at Tyler. Both of them were incredibly hot, and the suggestion hanging in the air was crystal clear.

"I could be persuaded," Carl said, taking a long drink of his beer.

The three of them stayed at the party for another hour, drinking and dancing, the sexual tension building with every touch, every loaded glance. Gavin's hand on Carl's lower back. Tyler pressing close behind him on the makeshift dance floor. The promise of what was coming making Carl's skin feel electric.

Finally, Gavin leaned in close to Carl's ear. "Want to get out of here?"

They went back to Gavin's place, stumbling through the door in a tangle of limbs and hungry kisses. Tyler pushed Carl against the wall while Gavin locked the door, and then they were all over him—hands pulling at his clothes, mouths on his neck, his chest, everywhere.

Carl lost himself in it completely. Two sets of hands exploring his body, two mouths kissing him, the three of them falling onto Gavin's bed in a heap. It was intense and overwhelming and exactly what Carl had fantasized about. Tyler was aggressive, dominant, while Gavin was more playful, teasing. Together they took Carl apart and put him back together, over and over, until he was boneless and satisfied and completely spent.

Afterward, lying between them, Carl felt like a god. This was the college experience he'd dreamed about. This was living.

Carl stumbled back to his dorm around two AM, still buzzing from alcohol and endorphins. His body felt loose, relaxed in a way that had nothing to do with his usual post-workout satisfaction. This was different—this was pleasure without discipline, indulgence without guilt.

He was also absolutely starving.

The realization hit him as he climbed the stairs to the third floor. He'd been so busy getting ready and then so distracted at the party that he'd completely forgotten to eat dinner. His last meal had been his usual lunch—grilled chicken breast, steamed broccoli, and brown rice. That had been almost ten hours ago.

His stomach growled audibly as he opened the door to his room.

David was exactly where Carl had left him, propped up on his bed with his laptop, but the snacks had been replaced by two large pizza boxes from Gino's, the best pizza place near campus. The smell hit Carl immediately—garlic, cheese, pepperoni, grease. His mouth watered involuntarily.

"Hey, man!" David said, looking up with a grin. "How was it?"

"Really good," Carl said, unable to take his eyes off the pizza. "Really, really good."

David followed his gaze and laughed. "Hungry? I ordered way too much. Help yourself."

Carl hesitated. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten pizza. Months, at least. Maybe since last spring? Pizza was empty calories, refined carbs, saturated fat—everything he'd trained himself to avoid. He had meal-prepped chicken and vegetables in the mini-fridge. He should eat that.

But god, the pizza smelled amazing.

"Come on, dude. I can hear your stomach from here." David patted the bed next to him. "Live a little."

Live a little. When was the last time Carl had done that with food? When was the last time he'd eaten something just because it tasted good, not because it fit his macros?

"Fuck it," Carl said, and grabbed a slice.

The first bite was a revelation. The cheese was perfectly melted, stretching in long strings as he pulled the slice away from his mouth. The sauce was tangy and sweet, the crust crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Grease dripped down his fingers, and Carl didn't even care.

"Good, right?" David said, watching him with amusement.

"So good," Carl mumbled through his mouthful. He finished the first slice in what felt like seconds and immediately reached for another.

The second slice disappeared just as quickly. Then a third. Carl ate mechanically, barely tasting it now, just shoveling food into his mouth to fill the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. The alcohol had lowered his inhibitions, and his body was demanding fuel, and the pizza was right there, and it tasted so fucking good.

"Damn, you can put it away," David said approvingly. "I like a guy who can eat."

Carl looked down at his greasy fingers, at the three pizza crusts on the napkin in front of him, and felt a moment of panic. Three slices. That was probably fifteen hundred calories, maybe more. All that fat, all those carbs, undoing hours of careful meal planning and disciplined eating.

But then the panic faded, replaced by a warm, heavy feeling in his stomach. He was full—actually, genuinely full in a way he couldn't remember being in months. His usual meals left him satisfied but never quite full, always maintaining that slight edge of hunger that kept his body lean.

This was different. This was satisfaction.

"I can't believe I just ate that," Carl said, leaning back against the wall.

"Dude, it's just pizza. You're allowed to enjoy food sometimes."

"I guess."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, David returning to his game while Carl felt the combination of alcohol, sex, and food pulling him toward sleep. His eyelids grew heavy, his body sinking deeper into the mattress. He should get up, brush his teeth, change into pajamas, do his usual nighttime routine.

But he was so comfortable. So full. So tired.

"I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second," Carl mumbled.

"Sure, man. Sleep well."

Carl's last conscious thought was that he should feel guilty about the pizza, about breaking his diet, about letting his discipline slip.

But he didn't.

He felt good.

[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. 

[fatboylibrary]

The Doctor Is In, Chapter 1

“Should I take my shoes off?” he asked me as he stepped up to the scale.

“You can leave them on for this part. It’s fine,” I told him half-paying attention, flipping through his chart. The shoes never make a difference: if you’re overweight, you’re overweight, I thought to myself as I pushed my glasses up with the back of my knuckle. It was Mr. Gunderson’s first appointment at our office. I had overheard him telling my receptionist as he checked in that he had recently moved to the area from Texas and needed an annual physical to file with his new insurance. You could tell he was nervous from the way his wide, strong shoulders were tensed up and he shuffled his feet from side-to-side, holding his coat in front of him shyly.

He was a very sweet man from what I could tell and decently attractive—in his mid-thirties with a handsome, striking face and mousy, curly hair kept short on the sides. He had a thick, well-kept beard obscuring what was likely a softened jawline. He had a broad frame and stood a few inches over six-foot (I took note of this in his chart as he stepped away from the stadiometer and I handed him his shoes back. Huh, I thought to myself, I guess he could have just taken his shoes off after all). I didn’t typically triage new patients like that, gathering their basic information and starting up their record with us, but we had lost the last of our nursing staff a few weeks prior and were struggling to find a good fit to bring in. My and all my patient’s favorite nurse, Rebecca, had taken her maternity leave and would be gone for nearly the next year, so I had picked up the added responsibilities of our nursing staff while we scrambled to hire and onboard a replacement.

He had gotten married a few years back to a woman from his church, Mr. Gunderson told me as I escorted him into the examination room and he awkwardly tried to make chit-chat. They both worked late at a pet store they owned and opened up themselves, but the long hours meant he wasn’t able to work out or eat as well as he had in his twenties. He was an athletic guy!, he assured me. They had recently had a baby, too, and naturally that was causing some issues with his health regiment. He continued with a few more explanations to excuse his weight, as if it made much of a difference to me.

There was an obesity epidemic in the country, that much was true. I hadn’t been a practicing doctor for long by that point, and I hadn’t truly believed my attending physicians in residency how prevalent an issue it would be. I had countless patients, the majority even, who would come in with some skin sensitivity on their face or a case of tendonitis in their ankle that I could easily point to their added weight as the culprit behind the pain. Unfortunately, they don’t want to hear that: “I started using a new tea tree oil I got online—maybe that’s why?” they’d brainstorm as I looked down at their chart and saw their weight history climbing and climbing over their last few visits. 

I jotted ‘Additional stress in work life’ beside his first weight entry in his chart: 258. Not the worst I had seen by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve had patients younger and less fortunate in the height department who were closing in on 400 or 500 pounds—folks who really can’t seem to control themselves or exercise even an ounce of willpower against their own impulses. I just didn’t understand that mindset at all, it seemed so foreign to me to not be able to just control yourself and put the fork down once you’d had enough. Mr. Gunderson would have no problem, so long as he started making a few better lifestyle choices. I asked him to roll his shirt up and hold it at his chest so I could listen to his lungs.

He lifted his buffalo plaid flannel shirt up from under his pot belly and pulled it from where it had been tucked into his pants. A pale, fleshy gut plopped back down, giving me a quick glimpse at what appeared to have been a belt buckle underneath. He straightened his back up as his chest expanded and his stomach got mildly slimmer—the classic “suck-in” gesture I’d grown accustomed to. My male patients loved to do this as if that somehow obscured the fact that they were obese; as if I had not just taken their weight a few minutes earlier.

“Alright, let’s take a look here,” I muttered as I placed the cold end of the stethoscope between his shoulder blades and took a listen. His lightly hairy back was damp with sweat and he jumped slightly from the cool touch of the stethoscope’s bell, goosebumps cascading everywhere.

I adored being a doctor. Every day that I showed up to work, button-up work shirt over my lab coat (optional to wear, of course, but I insisted) and superfluous briefcase, it felt like a fulfillment of a dream I had held close my entire life. Listening to Mr. Gunderson’s shallow breathing and swift heartbeat (nerves, usually), I thought back to pushing the tight plastic stethoscope toy I had between my ears and holding it to my stuffed dog’s chest as a kid. I was 29 and had only been working as a primary care physician in Coldwater for two or three months. It hadn’t been the easiest transition—being a gay doctor in suburban North Carolina had some, we’ll say, unique social challenges (did all the good gay men already get married while I was in school?), but I could at least always say I loved my job. I had a deep-seated dedication not just for caring about others, but for health and wellness in general: I knew first-hand the benefits of staying healthy, eating right, exercising regularly and staying regimented. I got to wake up every day and look in the mirror to see a fit, healthy body—one that took lots of intentional care and effort to maintain. I longed to be able to show my larger patients how it feels to have your body at such a peak level, able to do anything you want it to do at any time. I had been trying for ages though—people these days are just too addicted to their sugar-dense foods, it’s a waste of my breath.

Mr. Gunderson plopped his shirt back down quickly after we had finished as he slouched back down and let his gut return to its natural position, pressing firmly against his shirt’s fabric. It’s cute that men do that—that they get so self-conscious about their excess belly fat (as if its some unique, shameful problem) that they feel the need to “suck-in” at all. Although I’m of course not blind to the fact that as egotistical as it seems, I’m sure having a young, fit doctor doesn’t help with that feeling. I felt slightly badly that my body, just by imposing itself in the room as fit and healthy, made men like Mr. Gunderson feel so insecure and ashamed.

I had him roll up his sleeve to his shoulder as I prepped the blood pressure cuff I pulled from the cabinet. I turned back around to see his thick, beefy biceps. I had to quickly jut my eyes back to the cuff to avoid staring. I shimmied the cuff up his hairy, thick forearms and around his enormous bicep. I felt butterflies begin to loosen their wings in the pit of my stomach as I pumped the cuff up with the bulb in my hand. After I had gotten his diastolic and systolic, I ripped the velcro off and tossed the mechanism to the side.

“Now listen, Mr. Gunderson, unless you have any specific issues that you want to cover, I think we’re about wrapped up here,” I explained as I wheeled my pleather stool over to the examination table. He leaned back slightly and braced himself with his hands behind him, clearly a little tired from trying to hold his breath up and suck his belly in for so long.”Now my only concern is your blood pressure: it seems to be just slightly higher than I would love to see it.” I felt myself getting a little uncomfortable along with him as I noticed me unknowingly picking at the nail on my middle finger with my thumb. He sat forward again, hands folded in his lap like an ashamed schoolboy.

I’ve had countless conversations like this by this point: one’s where I essentially have to scold grown adults for their eating and exercise habits (or lack thereof, for the latter). After just a few years, most things in this profession had grown a little monotonous and ordinary: I could tap a vein to draw blood while thinking about what I’d make for dinner that night. I could perform a breast exam while I picked between my molars with my tongue to get a rogue piece of popcorn out. These conversations had not become any easier, though. I truly cared for my patients and I wanted them to be the best, healthiest versions of themselves, but I could never shake the feeling that I was simply hurting their feelings. I imagined them leaving, upset and their confidence knocked down a few notches, slamming their car door closed and driving straight to the McDonald’s a few blocks down to console themselves. Was I really hurting more than I was helping? 

“My biggest recommendation, not knowing what your diet is like, would be to look at that a bit more closely–” “Doctor, may I stop you?” he muttered, staring down at his hands and avoiding eye contact.

I stopped. My thoughts scrambled and scattered out in a thousand different directions. What the hell is happening? 

I had never had a patient cut me off in any capacity—ever. People listened when I spoke, especially with my lab coat on. I wasn’t prepared and sat, mouth open, for a few moments before I looked down and recapped the pen under his chart’s clip. “I’m sorry?” I managed to say as I nervously went to scratch my neck.

He took a deep breath and finally met my eyes. “With all due respect, Dr. Sexton, this isn’t the first lecture I’ve gotten about my weight. I understand it is an issue, but I’ve explained why what’s going on in my life and where I am at,” he said firmly and quickly. “I know the right things to eat and the best exercises, and I will do my best to lose some weight. Is there anything else I should know about?”

He spoke directly and swiftly, as if he had practiced this monologue several times before. I looked back at him, dumbfounded. He wasn’t being aggressive, nor was there even a tinge of frustration or bitterness in his tone. I could sense that I was one in a long list of individuals in his life who he felt looked down on him for having gained some weight in the last few years: I’m sure friends, family, perhaps even his wife, have given him condescending lectures at length about his size. “Don’t you want to be around a long time for your kid?” “Damn man, you’ve really put it on, you look healthy.” “Why don’t you join that new gym around the block? I heard it’s nice!”

I felt a wave of guilt crash over me. I could rationalize in the moment that I hadn’t done anything wrong, per se, or at least nothing that any other healthcare professional would not have. I hadn’t called him any names, I didn’t approach him with an air of superiority, I hadn’t even used the word obese (though with his BMI, I very well could have). I suddenly felt a sense of pride on his behalf and a tinge of envy of Mr. Gunderson in that moment for having that amount of restraint and self-assuredness to say that to a doctor, much less me. A big man who is grounded enough in himself to still be nervous around me, but not so much to not stand up for himself. Interesting, I thought, realizing how long I had stayed quiet.

“Oh, er, well,” I darted my eyes back down to his chart. Additional stress in work life. I scratched it out with my pen. “I completely understand, Mr. Gunderson. I won’t lecture you or tell you anything you don’t seem to already know. Is there anything else bothering you today I should know about?” 

Why am I so nervous? I thought as I drew my attention to my knee bouncing up and down restlessly, urging me to get up and leave. I felt myself getting warm, waves of sweltering heat starting to encroach on me like a tide coming in.

“I think that’s all, Doctor.” He maintained eye contact. I felt somewhat intimidated, closing the front cover to his chart and reaching to shake his hand. His hand met mine: his hands were smooth and soft, almost impossibly so, and his handshake was firm and steady.

“Well, thank you so much for Mr. Gunderson–” “Please, call me Dillon,” he interrupted. “Yes, Dillon,” I smiled. He hopped down from the examination table, the thin sheet of paper beneath him crunching as he did, and I escorted him out of the room down the hall. We said goodbye with another firm handshake and that I would see him soon as I passed him along to our receptionist, Hannah, to process payment.

I skirted my way from the desk quickly, turning behind a pillar at the end of the hall and closing the small bathroom’s door shut behind me. Pulling paper towels from the dispenser and unbuttoning the top few buttons on my shirt, I began wiping my sweaty armpits and looking at myself in the mirror. What just happened? 

My face was a pinkish-red and a bead of sweat had accumulated at the corner of my brow. I stared into my eyes for a moment, reacclimating myself to the room. I’ve always been a handsome guy, or so I have been told (it can be difficult believing the guys online and their compliments after they read ‘Doctor’ under my profession). My hair was a stark, deep brown that appeared almost black in the light. I kept it well-coiffed and lightly gelled to one side—my mother called it my Clark Kent hair. I stared deep into my blue-green eyes and examined their color in the fluorescent, overhead light. I gave a quick smile, my almond shaped eyes squinting and hiding my pupils, and checked my teeth (still pearly and pristine from extensive brushing that morning). I stood back and gave the mirror a quick arm flex as I felt the tightness momentarily set in around my bicep. Damn, I look good. I stretched my arms up over my head and watched my shirt untuck itself, my happy trail peeking out over my flat, muscular abs.

It wasn’t that I was cocky or all that into myself, despite how it sounds. I had been a very thin, svelte child—being an only child to a set of marathon-running athletes meant that I always snacked on the very best that diet food of the mid-90s had to offer. My parents instilled a discipline in exercise and diet in me early on and I was very fortunate to have had that. Strictly never drinking soda at restaurants, never eating out at greasy, fast food-style places, always eating healthy, homemade meals: I was lucky that this routine had been ingrained in me so early. In the interest of full disclosure, though, I didn’t care too much about the vanity of my body.

Of course I appreciated that my physique allowed me to get a foot in the door with other guys, that wasn’t lost on me. I could step foot into any gay bar and know I’d reliably get several up-down glances from patrons. I had never had to make the first move with a single soul before: men seemed to trip over their feet to talk to me at times. I could pop my head into any one of the hook-up apps on my phone and be able to take my pick from the onslaught—but truthfully, it was just an added bonus to the workouts and the controlled diet. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a handsome, fit stud, but if I had seen myself on the street or at the bar, I don’t think I would’ve hoped to see me glance over or approach me. I wouldn’t have looked at my Hinge profile and swiped right, hoping I would message first.

I ran the faucet for a moment and splashed cold water on my face, taking a few swigs of the metallic tap to rinse my mouth out. The Mr. Gunderson altercation (Can I even call it an altercation? I thought to myself) had thrown me off. I don’t handle confrontation in social situations particularly well, as you might can tell. I don’t often get surprised like that, particularly not in this job. Working as a primary care physician is about as routine as it comes in the medical field. I took a deep breath and swung the door open, tucking my shirt back in around the back.

“Dr. Sexton?” Fuck! My receptionist was standing right outside, stack of manila folders in her hands. “My god, Hannah, you scared me!” Hannah was a small woman in her mid-20s, short mousy-brown hair at her shoulders, small, wire-rimmed glasses in front of her beady eyes. She was bookish and petite, always wrapped in thick cardigans and shawls, blankets stacked up on behind her rolling desk chair. She was a tad intense—never seeming to blink quite enough and always rigidly avoiding the discussion of anything non-work-related.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. One of the candidates for the nursing staff arrived for his interview. Are you ready for me to send him back?” she asked, staring through me.

“Sure, Hannah. Could you remind me of his name?” I asked in a hushed tone as we started toward the front. She handed me the folder from the top of her stack: “Chris Franzen, 26. He has been working in at a minute clinic in Charlottesville for some time. He’s moved back to the area after he went through some break-up, if I remember correctly. He’s a chatty guy,” she said with subtle annoyance in her voice. “He’s up at the front when you’re ready.” 

I took the folder and flipped it open. “Thanks, Hannah. Oh hey, before I forget: did Mr. Gunderson seem angry when he left?” 

“Who? Oh, your last patient. No, not at all. He was very cheery, told me he was going to grab lunch after he left. Why?” she asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Nothing, I was just curious,” I said as I gripped the door to the reception area and swung it open.

“Mr. Franzen?”

[gain-stuff-eat]

It's so funny you thought this wouldn't change you. That you could eat like this. That it wouldn't change your brain chemistry. That you're aren't biologically programmed to want this exactly.

To grow fat. To crave more.

Now everyday you're growing. You can't help it. You can't turn it off. You can eat so much now you don't realize with every bite past your lips that you're only making room for more, increasing your capacity for gluttony.

You only notice when you're outgrowing something—your clothes, furniture, a space you used to fit in comfortably—to an embarrassing degree. Or you sit back stuffed after a meal and see the mountain of empty containers, the stacks of plates and bowls ...

Suddenly, you become aware how heavy you feel, how you couldn't stop, how your stomach pushes out more than you last remember, maybe you've spiraled more than you think, you have been accidentally stuffing yourself multiples times a week lately because you need to be full these days to be satisfied and normal meals don't cut it anymore, but who cares because eating just feels so good, and are those new stretchmarks?

You're aching and tender and sensitive, exploring and touching your body to these thoughts. You don't even know when you started doing that, it's so automatic at this point. Squeezing, hefting, gasping, belching, whimpering, moaning.

You're definitely bigger, softer. There's more to heft and grab—it's so addictive, the sensation rubbing and playing with your belly, of jiggling with every move. The way it's all your fault. There's no one to blame but you, your appetite, and your desire that's gotten you here.

... and it only makes you wetter for dessert.

You thought greed could never control you. That it couldn't trap you in a cycle that you were so sure you could leave whenever you were done, once you thought you had your fun with your feedist tendencies and be ready to leave them behind.

Look at you now, huh, fatty?

When did you realize you would never get away?

[gainerstories]

'The Leftovers'

His belly was full and heavy like a barrel of heavy whipping cream, pressing forward against the ribbed wool in a way that couldn’t be ignored. The knit clung to every curve, fabric stretched taut around the swell of his mighty gut, riding high enough that the lowest button of his jeans visibly strained in protest. When he lifted his glass to drink, the sweater shifted just a fraction, revealing a glimpse of skin underneath, soft and pale. This man wasn’t just big, his physique was commanding. It was the kind of heft that announced itself before anything else, hanging with an ease that spoke of years of confident indulgence. 

Olly was as jealous as he was aroused. It was the kind of body Olly had been secretly craving for himself. It was a shape that announced an unashamed hunger. A genuine joy for food that would not acquiesce for society or health or beauty. It was a corpulence that was proud of itself. Olly couldn’t look away. His own gut pressed against his shirt as if in response, warm against his own hands feeling up his fresh pudge, imagining more. The man noticed. Their eyes met and he smiled, slow and confidently.

Read the full story here

Synopsis: It’s Christmas eve in New York City and Olly is all alone. He’s got no friends and no family, but he does have his winter bulk. Listless, he goes to the gay bar and encounters Hugo, a bigger and bulkier man who sees right through Hugo’s kink. They may be the leftovers this holiday, but they decide to make the most of it.

[allfryam]

taste tester pt. 2

it had been almost a month since Luke started working at the bakery, and he couldn’t have been happier. He got to live in an apartment for free, he lived right next to work so he didn’t have to commute, and he had the best job ever. All he did was clock in, eat a shit ton of delicious pastries, and clock out to take a nap. There was one glaring issue though. Luke had finally started to pick up on the extra weight that was slowly piling onto his midsection. He’d put on about 10 - 15 lbs and his skinny frame had started to soften. He knew it was bound to happen, but he didn’t think it would add up so quickly. He sighed as he pulled on his sweatpants and headed into work.

“since the holidays are coming up I’m gonna need you to work a little extra for a couple months, got it?” Ben said when he saw Luke. “Well what does that mean?” Luke asked worriedly. “Well I’ll be making more pastries that you’ll need to test, and I’ll need you to continue to eat the entirety of each pastry. One bite doesn’t encapsulate the work of art that is my baking. Understood?” Luke placed his hand on his newly softened gut and shuddered. But there was no way he was losing this job. It was perfect. “Yup. Sounds great!” Luke said with a fake smile.

he sat down in the office and Ben brought in the usual tray full of pastries. Luke got right to work but before he could even finish the first one, Ben came back with a second tray full. Luke gulped. Luke wearily ate the delicious food and gave honest answers on his worksheet. He made his way through the first tray like usual and moved on to the second. He was already starting to get full so he knew he had to move quickly. He would shove the entire pastry in his mouth and fill out the sheet while he chewed. Luke groaned as he ate, feeling the pressure in his stomach grow as more and more sugar was dumped inside. After the final pastry he leaned back in his chair and breathed heavily. Luke didn’t notice but his shirt had ridden up to his belly button to reveal the bottom of his swollen middle.

“great job today” Ben said as Luke left. “Hope you’re ready for more tomorrow!” Luke sighed and promptly passed out on his bed when he got home. While Luke slept. Ben made his way to the kitchen to prepare Luke’s pastries for the next day. “Looks like I’m gonna have to make this harder” Ben sighed as he doubled the amount of butter and sugar in each pastry. “No way he eats all of this” Ben said grinning.

[allfryam]

taste tester pt 1.

Luke sighed as he continued scrolling through job applications. He’d just graduated college and couldn’t secure a job for the life of him. His lease ended at the end of the month and there was no way he was moving back in with his parents. When he came out two years ago they practically treated him like he was invisible and that he was just going through some kind of phase.

eventually he came across an application to be a taste tester for a bakery. Luke clicked on it and looked at the description. “In desperate need of a young man with a big appetite willing to make sure all baked goods are up to standard. Free housing included with job.” Luke’s eyes lit up. Free housing? He immediately started the application and filled out all of his info before getting to the final step. “Please submit two photos of yourself with no shirt on, one from the front and one from the back.” Luke stopped. “The hell?” Why would they need pictures of him? He was about to close the application before he thought about the free housing part of the job again. “Anything is better than living with my parents…” Luke sighed and took off his shirt. He went into the bathroom to take his pictures. His strong body had been toned by sports and the gym since high school. Luke hade been active and fit for his entire life. He flexed and took the pictures, showing off his toned abs and strong arms.

Luke awoke the next morning to an email from the bakery he applied to. “Hello Luke! This is Ben from big boy’s bakery! We’re reaching out to inform you that you have been hired as our new taste tester! Please come in today for training.” Luke almost screamed when reading, but he quickly contained his excitement and got dressed. He headed down to the bakery soon after and walked inside. A strong man was standing behind the counter. He looked like he worked out everyday, but he wasn’t afraid to eat either. His stomach was just beginning to push against the tight apron he was wearing. “Ah! You must be Luke! I’m Ben, your new manager!” The man spoke up. He gave Luke a tour of the bakery and led him to his housing that came included with the job. It was just out behind the bakery, literally connected through a short hallway. It was a small apartment that had a bed, kitchen, and a tiny bathroom. It was super cramped but anything would be better than living with his parents. Next, Ben showed Luke to his station where he would be working. It was a room in the back of the bakery with a couch, a tv, a Table, and some pictures of pastries on the wall. “You ready to get started?” Ben asked still grinning.

luke sat down as Ben left and quickly returned with a tray of pastries. All unique and all looked delicious. Luke’s mouth watered. “Ok so these are all new recipes I’m experimenting with, and I need you to eat each one and then fill out the feedback form. Got it?” Ben asked. Luke nodded and Ben left the room. There were small labels next to each pastry, and Ben decided to start with “raspberry chocolate croissant” he took a bite and the pastry melted in his mouth. It was flaky, buttery, and the filling was to die for. Luke practically moaned as he took another bite. He finished, then turned to the paper on his right. He had to rate it out of 10, list any changes he would like to see, then add any additional notes or particular flavors that stuck out to him. Luke gave the croissant an incredible rating and then moved on to the next pastry.

before long, Luke had finished the entire tray of pastries and given a review to each one of them. His stomach was bloated from all the sweets, but he got off the couch and looked for Ben. “Done already?” Ben asked as Luke opened the door. “Yup!” Luke smiled. “Great! Well that’s all for today so I will see you tomorrow at 8!” Ben gleamed.

about a week into his new job, Luke was happier than ever. He couldn’t imagine a better job. He woke up, walked about 20 feet to the bakery, sat on the couch and ate a tray of delicious pastries while watching his favorite shows. He usually only worked for an hour or two and then Ben would send him home. A couple times, Ben even sent him home with a few pastries that weren’t selling well.

“shit” Luke mumbled as he gave up. He had been struggling to button his jeans for five minutes and he finally decided to just wear sweatpants. Luke just assumed his pants shrunk in the wash because he was using a new washer now. He failed to notice the few extra pounds the pastries had added to his waistline over the past week. Blissfully unaware, he strolled in to work with a smile on his face as Ben placed the full tray of beautiful pastries in front of him.

[allfryam]

gift cards pt. 3

day 53:

Martin awoke with a sharp pain in his stomach. He sat up slowly and rubbed his groggy eyes. His face was covered in chocolate and cheesecake. Connor had been over last night and with that came thousands of calories being dumped into martins belly. He waddled to the shower and rinsed his face and body off. He lathered his gut with soap and cleaned off the dried up cum from his dick. It took a lot more effort to clean himself now. His gut got in the way of everything. He got out and examined his glistening body in the mirror. How the fuck did this happen. He looked like a normal guy less than 2 months ago. Now he looked like the kind of guy everyone called “big guy” or “fatass”. He put on his stretchiest sweatpants and his largest hoodie to try and cover up. It didn’t entirely work as if he moved at all, his belly would be poking out of the bottom of his sweatshirt. But he had to go out today. He was going to use his grandfathers inheritance to buy himself a new wardrobe. It looked like he wouldn’t be losing this weight any time soon and it was getting uncomfortable just having clothes on, so he’d been walking around the house naked for weeks. on his way to the store he stopped at Chick-fil-A to get breakfast. 12 count of the chicken minis, a breakfast bowl, and a chicken sandwich seemed like an appropriate amount of food. He scarfed it down quickly in the parking lot of the big and tall store before heading in. Inside, a man that looked to be 400 pounds greeted him and pointed him in the direction of clothes that were his size. He tried on a couple 2xls which fit ok but he decided to size up just one more time to give him some room to breathe. He left with an entirely new wardrobe and a new sense on confidence wearing clothes that actually fit him. Ding! “Hey what are you up to? Wanna get pizza?” Read the text from Connor. Looks like his new clothes might not fit for long.

day 68:

Connor had officially moved in a few days ago and it has been brutal for martins waistline. Nightly stuffings, breakfast in bed every morning, house completely stocked with snacks 24/7. It was impossible to not gain weight. one morning Connor woke up Martin by rubbing his gut. He quickly left the room and rushed back in with a few dozen donuts. He sat them on the bed next to Martin and rolled Martin onto his back. “I want you to eat these donuts while I fuck you. Every dozen, we’ll try a different position. And of course, if you stop eating, I stop thrusting.” Martin rubbed his tired eyes and nodded as he reached for a donut. They started simple. Martin laid in his back with his hefty legs resting on Connor’s shoulders. Martin moaned between bites and ate with excitement for a new position as Connor continued thrusting. Martin pushed the last donut of the dozen into his mouth and Connor immediately began to move. He laid on his back and had Martin get on top of him. He stuck his throbbing dick into martins fat ass and thrusted his hips while Martin rode him like a cowboy. In this position, Connor got to feed Martin the donuts. Connor grabbed donut after donut and continued shoving them into martins mouth as he moaned. Glaze and sugar was smeared on martins lips and he mindlessly chewed as donut after donut got placed to his lips. Martin eventually finished the dozen but Connor could tell he was starting to slow down. “Now I’m gonna fuck you like the fucking pig that you are” Connor grunted as he moved Martin back to the bed. Martin got on all fours as Connor was on his knees behind him thrusting passionately into him. Connor placed the box of donuts directly under martins face and he leaned his face down into the box to eat like a pig eating from a trough. Connor placed his hands on martins wide hums and thrusted him back and forth on his huge cock. Connor noticed Martin stopping to take a breath and he immediately pulled out. “No food, no fucking, fatty.” Connor barked. “Please I’m so full…” Martin begged. “Guess these donuts will go to waste.” Connor grinned knowing this would work. Martin whimpered as he turned his head back to the box and lowered to grab another. “Good boy” Connor said as he slipped his dick back inside, thrusting harder than before. Martin continued whimpering as he ate, begging for release. Finally, he finished the last donut and Connor finally released his load into martins growing ass. They both collapsed onto the bed, out of breath. “Here’s your gift for being a good piggy” Connor whispered as he licked frosting and sugar off of martins mouth, making his way down his body to his chest, licking each moob, then down to his massive belly grabbing it and shining it with both hands, making Martin groan. Finally he made his way down to martins desperate cock, already dripping precum, it was ready to release its load. Martin laid his head back in complete relief as Connor sucked. He made his way all the way down his cock until he pressed his lips against his newly grown fat pad, getting a good whiff of martins man musk from sweating so much. Martin didn’t have a small dick either. He was close to 7 inches and Connor treated it like it was 4. Pretty shortly, Martin exploded into Connor’s mouth, letting out a moan that made Connor want to fuck him again.

day 79:

243 pounds. That’s what the scale said. 243. Connor began rubbing and jiggling martins belly right then and there, proud of his expanding frame. Martin had gained 73 pounds since he found those gift cards. That was almost a pound every single day. Martin was surprisingly a lot happier about this fact than he expected. Connor pampered him so much he felt like royalty. And the fatter he got, the better Connor treated him. Martin didn’t even have to leave the house anymore. He would hold up a few gift cards to ask what Martin was in the mood for, then go and get it. Martin didn’t even bother getting dressed most days. It was too much of a hassle. He walked around with his belly bouncing around in front of him. One thing that had never changed was the roundness of his gut. It looked like he swallowed a beach ball. It was perfectly round and hung in the air effortlessly. Plus Connor liked the view a lot more when Martin walked around naked. Sometimes if they were sitting in the living room watching tv. Connor would pull down his pants and start jerking off, just staring at Martin. Just the sight of him sitting naked on the couch, mindlessly eating a bag of chips was enough to make him hard. Ding! “Hey keep eating. Your belly is gonna need to have more capacity than ever for my New Year’s Eve surprise!” Martin thought to himself on what that could mean. It undeniably turned him on though…

[allfryam]

gift cards: pt 2

Day 22:

Martin and Connor had been chatting the past couple days and it’s been amazing for some reason Connor wasn’t completely disgusted by his appearance and Martin was glad for that. His weight had plateaued over the past couple of days because he stopped using the gift cards. He decided to use one of them tonight though…

he opened DoorDash and ordered from his favorite pizza place, and like clockwork Connor accepted the order. Martin rushed to the bathroom to fix his curly brown hair and brush his teeth. He wore an oversized hoodie to hide his stomach but tight shorts to show off his other areas…

when Connor arrived he was carrying two pizzas even though Martin only ordered one. “Hey they were gonna toss this one so I figured I’d bring it over since I know you don’t like wasting food” Connor said before Martin could say no. “Uhhh sure. I guess” Martin replied. “busy night tonight?” Martin asked as he grabbed the pizzas and set them on the counter.

“nah not really. Only been a couple orders tonight.”

“Wanna come in? There’s no way I could eat both of these pizzas by myself” Martin said flirtatiously. “yeah sure. Don’t have much else to do tonight.”

they sat on the couch and talked for hours until the pizza was gone. Martin didn’t notice but Connor only ate 2 slices. Martin ate the rest. The night continued and they had shifted closer and closer to each other on the couch. Before long the conversation got quiet and their eyes were locked. Martin felt like he could drown in Connor’s dark green eyes. He leaned in slowly and placed his hand on Connor’s face before locking lips and kissing passionately. Their tongues danced around each others mouths as they explored each others bodies. Martin took off Connor’s shirt and kissed his perfect pecs and then licked slowly all the way from just under Connor’s belly button to the bottom of his chest. Connor smiled and pulled off martins shirt. His belly bounced a little as the clothes pulled on his body. Connor instantly pushed Martin onto his back and held himself over top of him with his huge arms on both sides of martins head. He lifted one of his hands and used it to pull off martins shorts as well as his own. He lifted martins legs and put them on his shoulders as he put his dick inside. Martin moaned and his new gut jiggled with each thrust and for some reason Connor seemed to really like it. Martin noticed and decided to try something. He grabbed his belly and shook it. “Fuck I’m getting big dude…” Connor started thrusting faster and came almost immediately after. Breathing heavy, he fell beside Martin on the couch and kissed his head. “The extra weight looks so fucking hot on you.” Connor said still breathing heavily.

day 30:

a little over a week had gone by since Connor and martins “meet up” and they had met again a few times over the past week. Martin had pulled the gift cards back out and started using them for every meal again. After finding out his perfect man was into a little bit of a belly, what’s the rush in getting rid of it. At least now he wouldn’t have the guilt of letting the gift cards go to waste. He texted Connor all day as he was door dashing. He finally told Connor about all the gift cards his grandfather had left him and explained that’s why he gained so much weight over the past month. Sometimes, Connor would swing by and drop off a wrong order that he was just supposed to throw out. And martin would always eat every last bite.

Connor came over for dinner and brought some cake with him. “What’s that for?” Martin asked. “nothing special. Food lion was having a sale so I figured I’d treat you to dessert tonight.” They sat down and ate the chipotle Martin ordered while they chatted. “So these gift cards” Connor questioned. “How many are there?” “over 100. all to food places or delivery services.”

“shit”

“yeah. Plus they expire at the end of this year so I’ve beet eating out for every meal to try and use them up”

“I can tell” Connor said as his eyes shifted down to martins stomach. Martins face got red but Connor reassured him he looked great with the extra padding. They finished their chipotle, (Martin finished Connor’s leftovers) and Connor brought out the cake. It was a vanilla birthday cake with cream cheese icing. It had “happy birthday Samantha” written in red icing on top. “Who’s Samantha?” Martin chuckled. “Fuck if I know. It’s probably why it was on sale.” Connor replied. Martin cut himself a big slice and Connor just watched. He finished it quickly and put down his fork. “You don’t want any more? I got it all just for you…” Connor pouted. Martin humphed and scrunched his face. He hated wasting food… he grabbed the knife and began cutting another slice. Connor watched lustfully and Martin shoveled bite after bite into his mouth. He was like a bottomless pit. Eating mindlessly past full just because someone told him to. Connor had to cross his legs to hide his erection. Another slice went down smoothly and Martin looked up at Connor. Without saying a word Connor stared at Martin. Then at the cake. Martin got the message. He grabbed a handful of cake and shoved the mess into his mouth. Connor was practically screaming inside watching this unfold. He moved closer to martin and took off his tight shirt. “Don’t want to get any cake on this” Martin continued shoveling handful after handful of cake into his mouth, covering his face in icing and crumbs. Connor began rubbing martins tight gut as Martin began to moan. Connor couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain. When Martin started to slow down, Connor decided to give him a little motivation. He undid martins belt and unbuttoned his straining jeans. Martin let out a sigh of relief and grabbed another handful of cake. Connor continued to peel off martins clothes until he was completely naked. Connor wrapped his lips around the tip of martins dick and looked up at him. “As long as you keep eating, I’ll keep sucking.” Connor said sternly. Martin nodded and continued to chew. Connor felt martins dick grow erect in his mouth as he moved up and down his cock. He kept his eyes locked on Martin as he continued to suck, licking up and down martins pulsating dick. Martin moaned as he ate, a mixture of ecstasy and pain as he continued to swallow the thick cake. Connor reached up and grabbed martins swollen belly and began rubbing and jiggling it. Connor’s dick was begging for release in his jeans almost twitching at the feeling of martins belly in his hand. Connor continued to suck and lick until Martin suddenly stopped. His face was covered in frosting and he was out of breath. “Hey. Remember our deal? You stop eating, I stop sucking.” Connor stated as he removed his mouth from martins cock. “I… can’t eat… anymore” Martin said with laboring breaths. “Hm. I guess I’ll just have to throw the rest away. Nobody is going to want to eat this mess of a birthday cake now.” Connor knew this would work. “Wait…. Don’t… waste any.” Martin exhaled. Connor returned to his knees and looked up at Martin again. Martin grabbed another handful and moaned as he shoved the cake into his mouth and Connor moved his lips onto his dick. Connor sucked slowly and lustfully as Martin continued to eat. Martin was down to a couple handfuls and he looked like he was about to pop. Connor rubbed his belly slowly, occasionally applying pressure. Martin ate slowly and he moaned with each bite. With the final bit in his hand, Martin filled his mouth with the last of the cake and closed his eyes as he chewed slowly and groaned. Connor was getting faster now, determined to drain martins cock. Martin finally finished chewing and swallowed the last bite of cake, and almost simultaneously emptied buckets of cum into Connor’s mouth. Connor took it like a champ, swallowing fiercely as more and more poured out of martins dick. Connor eventually stood up and whispered in martins ear, “good boy.” Connor helped Martin to the couch and left him naked and bloated, lying on his back. “See you tomorrow” Connor said as he left.

day 44:

Martin stepped onto the scale and waited. It had been two weeks since Connor gave him the hottest encounter of his life and Martin had been so entranced by him he hadn’t weighed himself at all in the past two weeks. They had made this a little bit of a routine. Connor would come over with a shit ton of food and wouldn’t give Martin the pleasure he craved unless he kept eating. Martin couldn’t deny how horny it made him just thinking about it, but it was terrible for his waistline. 206. Martin had to lean forward to read the numbers. He was up 22 pounds since the last time he checked. “Fuck, dude” he slapped his gut and watched it ripple. His pecs had softened a couple years ago when he quit playing sports but now they had ballooned into moobs that covered his chest. His thighs were getting thicker now too, they were like god damn tree trunks at this point. But most notably was his giant gut. It was round and hung over his waistband like it was defying gravity. He ran his fingers across it and looked at it for a while. Was this what he wanted? To just keep getting fatter and fatter for the rest of his life? Ding! He looked at his phone to see a new message from Connor. It was a picture of two dozen donuts sitting on the bed next to Connor who was completely naked. “Come over” read the text. Martins doubts instantly faded and he put on a shirt that’s two sizes two small and rushed out the door.

[allfryam]

gift cards

day 0:

Martin sighed as he continued going through his grandfathers old junk. He had just passed away about a week ago and Martin was left to clean up his house and get it ready to sell. Martins parents had both died in a car accident when he was 5, and he lived with his grandfather for practically his whole life. Now, freshly 20 years old, he was the only family member alive or close enough to be the one to clean up.

he wiped sweat off his face and stood up to stretch. He had been at this for a few hours and it was getting late. He decided to go through one more box before heading to bed for the night. He spotted a small one in the corner labeled “gifts”. Maybe grandpa was doing some early Christmas shopping. But to his surprise, Martin opened the box to find stacks upon stacks of gift cards. He looked through them and decided to sort through to see where they were all for. He ended up with ten different piles. There were 14 gift cards for Chipotle, 12 for McDonald’s, 16 for Taco Bell, 18 for five guys, 15 for Cheesecake Factory, 11 for subway, 19 for DoorDash, 16 for Texas Roadhouse, 20 for Burger King, and a whopping 34 for miscellaneous restaurants and delivery services. “What the hell was he doing with all these damn fast food gift cards?” Martin muttered to himself. He also noticed one last thing when sorting; they all expired at the end of this year and it was already September.

day 1:

Martin decided he wouldn’t want the gift cards grandpa bought to go to waste. He had always been that way. If something was on his plate, he would eat it. He hated wasting food. That had come back to bite him in the last year or two though as his natural abs from playing sports in high school started to soften. You couldn’t notice a difference as long as Martin had a shirt on, but Martin noticed. He wasn’t in a hurry to lose it or anything, but he was definitely aware.

he got up early and headed to ihop to use his first of many gift cards. It was $50 so he decided to splurge and use it all in one go. He ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes, some French toast, bacon, scrambled eggs, and some coffee. He ate with speed and grace and not before long he was down to only French toast. Martin had gotten full before he even ate the bacon but he could struggle through the French toast if it meant not wasting food. Each bite made him slower, pushing his gut to the max. He groaned as he chewed, trying not to pay attention to the pain in his midsection. Eventually he ate the last bite and leaned back in the booth with his eyes shut. He breathed heavy, his bloated stomach rising and falling with each breath.

for lunch, he broke into the subway gift cards. He got himself a footlong turkey sub and scarfed it down quickly before returning to the mountain of boxes in his grandfathers basement. This is mainly how his days went recently as he quit his job to help take care of his grandfather in his final weeks. He was in no rush to get a new one though because grandpa left his entire inheritance to Martin.

Martin awoke to a pitch black house and only the old tv lighting up the room. He must have fallen asleep after packing all day. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his phone. 7:14. He didn’t feel like going back out for dinner so he broke into the DoorDash gift cards and scrolled through the app. He landed on some local burger joint and ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and fries. He decided to treat himself with a milkshake for a hard days work as well. The minute it arrived he ravaged through the bag and finished it all in less than 10 minutes. He went and laid on the couch and turned on some old show to fall asleep to. He mindlessly rubbed his full belly as he drifted off to sleep.

day 7:

“Jesus…” Martin muttered as he looked at the number on the scale. 175. He was up 5 pounds from last week. He walked over to the mirror and looked at his naked body. He put a hand on his stomach and grabbed it. “Shit” he couldn’t grab it last week. He could sort of get a piece of it if he really tried but now he just grabbed a small handful of belly with ease. He put on his clothes and went back to the mirror. As far as he could tell, you couldn’t really see a difference, so it wasn’t that big of a deal but Martin did get a tinge of worry in his chest.

he continued his normal routine of using up the gift cards and sorting through grandpas stuff. He door dashed pizza for lunch and almost gasped when he opened the door. It was the same dasher as the other night, but Martin must have been too tired to notice how hot he was. He was tall, looked to be around 6’2”, he had medium length blonde hair that was pushed back except for a small strand that hung down over his forehead. But the most noticeable thing was his body. He filled out his tshirt beautifly with his huge arms looking like they would rip through the fabric if he flexed. His slim waist and large pecs gave him the perfect triangle shape that Martin always fell for. He had always been straight until he got drunk at a party once and made out with some frat guy. It was the best experience of his life and he’d spent the last year and a half exploring that side of himself. He went to a lot of different parties and tried to scope out hot guys that he thought we be down to do anything with him. This one time, a huge guy that looked like a Greek god approached him and asked him to meet him in his bedroom. The second Martin shut the door the guy took of his shirt and lunged towards Martin to kiss him. They kissed for a while before the guy stood up and told Martin to lay on his stomach and spread his legs. Martin didn’t know what to think. He’d never had sex with another man before and he was nervous until he felt the guys dick start to enter him. He let out an embarrassing loud moan of pleasure and the guy laughed at him. He continued to thrust and Martin took it happily. He quickly snapped back to reality and took the pizza and shut the door. Martin scurried to the window and watched as the man walked down his driveway, his perfect ass filling out his jeans.

While eating the pizza, he looked on DoorDash and found his name. “Connor”. He looked on Instagram as he shoved another slice into his mouth and eventually found him. “Damn” Martin said to himself as he scrolled throug his page. He had a post from a few months ago at the beach with his shirt off. He had the most perfect body Martin had ever seen. He continued scrolling and went all the way back to when Connor was in high school and he found the best part about Connor. He was gay. He had a post with a boy as equally attractive as him, with a caption saying“happy 6 months!” Martin instantly looked for any more posts of his boyfriend and found none. He was single.

day 18:

it has been about two and a half weeks since Martin found the gift cards and he was starting to get a little worried. He was up to 184 pounds this morning which means he’d gained almost 15 in only 2 and a half weeks. He stood in the mirror again and played with his pudge. He grabbed his stomach and shook it. It jiggled. It actually jiggled. He looked like a 30 year old dad that traded the gym for beer. Martin turned to the side and grabbed his new love handles that started growing. Love handles. He thought he wouldn’t see these till he had kids. But here they were, soft and gently surrounding his waist. He sighed and continued playing with them until he heard the doorbell ring. Without thinking, he opened the front door with only his underwear on. He completely forgot he ordered DoorDash and now Connor was standing on his front porch looking at him in his underwear. “Woah!” Connor exclaimed as he looked Martin up and down. Martins face got red as he snatched the food from Connor’s hand and slammed the door. “Fuck”. he ate in silence, replaying the moment in his head. He’d totally ruined anything that could have possibly ever happened between them. No ripped guy like Connor would ever want to be with some pudgy freak like him. He had to stop with the gift cards. His weight was getting out of hand. But he hated the idea of all these gift cards just going to waste. He decided to chill a little on the gift cards for now and maybe use them a little slower. That would probably stop him from gaining weight this fast. He could probably also give some to friends for Christmas or something. Before he could finish this thought, his phone buzzed. It was a dm from Connor. “Thanks for the view earlier”

[paunchstar]

Not gonna lie, some books are hard to write and some just flow from my fingers. The XXL Factor, coming soon, fits into the latter category.

The XXL Factor is the story of Danny Walker, winner of a prestigious TV talent competition and wannabe singer who finds that the chaotic life on the road plays havoc with his eating habits, making him gain weight rapidly. When his management team try to regain control of his waistline to keep him marketable and profitable, Danny discovers that that regaining control of his body is the key to regaining control of his destiny.

This is another full length gainer novel with more of a romantic twist this time and is less dark than my previous novels, so I've called it a growmance (see what I did there?)

I'm in the final stages of editing and it should be available on the Amazon Kindle store on 1 February 2026.

[r3volv3r98]

January 7

[sugarcoated1]

Joining the Team

Zach shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing up from his notebook to steal a quick look at Cory. The buzz of the cafeteria seemed to fade into the background as Zach's eyes followed the movements of the tall, muscular figure of the school's star quarterback. Cory stood by the salad bar, effortlessly charming a group of cheerleaders with his friendly smile and easygoing manner.

Zach quickly looked back down, his cheeks flushing a bright red. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and scribbled a few more notes into his notebook, trying to focus on his homework. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to Cory. It was impossible not to notice him; Cory had a way of filling up a room with his presence. He was everything Zach wasn't: confident, outgoing, and effortlessly popular.

But there was more to Cory than just his good looks and athletic prowess. Zach had seen it firsthand in the way Cory treated everyone around him with kindness and respect. Cory was always the first to step up and help someone in need, whether it was tutoring a struggling classmate in math or lending a hand to pick up spilled books in the hallway.

Zach had always admired Cory from afar, never daring to dream that someone like Cory would ever notice someone like him. It was safer that way, Zach told himself. Easier. Less painful.

"Hey, Zach."

Zach's head snapped up, heart pounding. Cory was standing right in front of him, holding a tray of food and wearing that signature friendly smile. Zach's mouth went dry.

"H-hi, Cory," he stammered, pushing his glasses up again, a nervous habit he couldn't seem to shake.

"Mind if I sit here?" Cory asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from Zach.

Zach nodded, too stunned to speak. Cory sat down, placing his tray on the table and giving Zach a curious look.

"I noticed you in the stands at the game last night," Cory said, picking up an apple from his tray. "You were cheering pretty hard."

Zach felt his face grow even hotter. "Yeah, I, uh, like watching the games," he mumbled. "You played really well."

"Thanks," Cory said, taking a bite of the apple. "You know, I've seen you around a lot. You're in my biology class, right?"

Zach nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and anxiety. "Yeah, I sit in the back."

Cory smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know. You're always taking the best notes. I was wondering if maybe you could help me study sometime? Coach says I need to get my grades up if I want to keep playing."

Zach blinked, hardly believing what he was hearing. Cory wanted his help? "S-sure," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'd be happy to help."

"Great," Cory said, looking genuinely pleased. "How about after school tomorrow? We can meet in the library."

"Okay," Zach agreed, feeling a surge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.

The next day, Zach arrived at the library early, his stomach a bundle of nerves. He set up his books and notes at a table near the back, away from the prying eyes of other students. He kept glancing at the clock, his heart racing with every tick of the second hand.

Finally, Cory walked in, his usual confident stride tempered with a hint of uncertainty. He spotted Zach and made his way over, sliding into the seat across from him.

"Hey," Cory said, dropping his backpack on the floor. "Thanks for doing this."

"It's no problem," Zach said, offering a shy smile. "Let's start with the chapter on cell division. It's pretty straightforward once you get the hang of it."

As they worked through the material, Zach was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Cory. The jock was attentive and eager to learn, asking thoughtful questions and listening intently to Zach's explanations. They ended up laughing over a shared joke about their biology teacher's monotone voice, the initial awkwardness melting away.

Over the next few weeks, their study sessions became a regular thing. Zach found himself looking forward to them more and more, not just because he got to spend time with Cory, but because he felt like he was really getting to know him. Cory was more than just a football player; he was funny, kind, and genuinely interested in Zach's passions.

One afternoon, as they were packing up their things, Cory hesitated. "Hey, Zach," he said, looking a bit nervous. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Sure," Zach replied, his heart fluttering in anticipation.

"You know how you're always at the games and really into it?" Cory began, scratching the back of his head. "Well, Coach is looking for a new team manager. Someone organized, reliable, and, well, passionate about football. I think you'd be perfect for it."

Zach's eyes widened in surprise. "Me? But I'm not really athletic or anything."

"You don't have to be," Cory assured him. "We need someone who knows the game and can help with the logistics. And you’re great with details. Plus, you'd get to be part of the team."

Zach hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. Joining the team in any capacity meant spending more time with Cory and being part of something he loved. "Okay," he said finally, a small smile forming on his lips. "I'll do it."

Cory's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Awesome! Welcome to the team, Zach."

Zach stood at the edge of the locker room, nervously clutching his clipboard. It had been a week since he started as the team manager, and he was still getting used to the noise and chaos of the football team. He glanced around, his eyes inevitably drawn to Cory, who was pulling off his jersey, revealing his perfect, muscular torso, a hairy treasure trail crawling down from his belly button to below, and a beautiful, thick chest. Zach's eyes met Cory's and his heart skipped a beat as he quickly looked away, his cheeks burning.

The locker room was a whirlwind of activity as the team prepared for practice. Cory caught Zach's eye and flashed him a warm smile, making Zach's heart race even faster. He tried to focus on his duties, checking off items on his clipboard and organizing the equipment, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Cory.

During practice, Zach watched from the sidelines, admiring how effortlessly Cory moved on the field. He was fast, agile, and powerful, embodying everything Zach admired. As the practice progressed, the team's energy was high, everyone pushing themselves to the limit.

Suddenly, a loud cry of pain echoed across the field. One of the players, Mike, had fallen awkwardly and was clutching his ankle in agony. The coach immediately ran over, concern etched on his face.

"Take him to the nurse," the coach barked at a couple of players. "Be careful with that ankle."

As they helped Mike off the field, the coach turned to the rest of the team, looking visibly stressed. "We can't afford to be down a player, especially with the big game coming up," he muttered.

Cory glanced at Zach, then back at the coach. "Coach, maybe Zach could fill in," he suggested, his tone hopeful.

Zach's eyes widened in surprise. "Me? But I don't know how to play football."

"You know the game," Cory said, stepping closer. "You've been watching us for a while, and you're already part of the team. We can teach you the rest."

The coach looked skeptical but desperate. "You up for it, Zach?"

Zach hesitated, his mind racing. He wasn't athletic and had never even considered playing football. But the way Cory was looking at him, with that encouraging smile and hopeful eyes, made him feel like he could do anything.

"I'll try," Zach said finally, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.

"Alright," the coach said, clapping Zach on the shoulder. "Welcome to the team, Zach. Cory, help him get suited up and show him the ropes."

Cory grinned, his eyes shining with pride. "Come on, Zach. Let's get you geared up."

As they walked to the locker room, Zach felt a strange mix of anxiety and exhilaration. Cory helped him put on the pads and helmet, explaining the basics with patience and encouragement. Zach tried to focus, absorbing every word and movement, determined not to let Cory down.

Back on the field, Cory guided Zach through the drills, demonstrating each move and technique. The other players, initially skeptical, began to warm up to Zach, offering tips and cheering him on. Zach stumbled a few times, but with Cory's constant support and guidance, he started to get the hang of it.

By the end of practice, Zach was exhausted but exhilarated. He had never felt so alive, so connected to something bigger than himself. As the team gathered around, Cory threw a sweaty arm around Zach's shoulders. Zach had to try and keep himself from getting visibly hard feeling Cory's hard, slick arm around his neck.

"You did great today," Cory said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I knew you had it in you."

"Thanks," Zach replied, smiling up at Cory. "I couldn't have done it without you."

The night of Zach's first game was electric. The stadium lights blazed down on the field, casting long shadows as the home team lined up against their rivals. Zach's heart pounded in his chest as he took his position, the roar of the crowd a distant hum in his ears. He glanced over at Cory, who gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up. Zach took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

From the first snap, it was clear that this was going to be a tough game. The opposing team was bigger, stronger, and more experienced. Zach found himself struggling to keep up, his smaller frame no match for the powerful players who seemed to knock him down with ease. He was sacked multiple times, each hit driving the air from his lungs and leaving him scrambling to get back on his feet.

Despite the rough game, Zach found moments of enjoyment. He loved the thrill of being part of the team, the camaraderie on the sidelines, and the rare instances when he managed to execute a play correctly. But by the end of the game, the home team had been crushed, the scoreboard reflecting a lopsided defeat.

In the locker room, the atmosphere was somber. The players sat on the benches, nursing their bruises and replaying their mistakes in their minds. Coach Richards called everyone together for a post-game talk, his voice calm but firm as he emphasized the need to learn from their mistakes and keep pushing forward.

"Alright, hit the showers," Coach finally said. "We'll regroup and come back stronger."

As the team began to disperse, Coach Richards motioned for Zach and Cory to stay behind. Zach's heart skipped a beat, unsure of what to expect.

"Zach," Coach began, looking at him with a mixture of concern and encouragement, "I know tonight was tough, but you showed a lot of heart out there. We need to work on getting you stronger, though. You’re too small right now to handle the physical demands of the game at this level."

Zach nodded, feeling a mixture of disappointment and determination. "I'll do whatever it takes, Coach."

"Good," Coach said, a small smile forming on his lips. "Cory, I want you to help Zach with his training. Help him bulk up this season. Think you can do that?"

Cory's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Absolutely, Coach. I'd be happy to."

Zach's heart soared. The thought of spending extra time with Cory, even if it meant grueling workouts, was thrilling. "Thank you, Coach. I won't let you down."

Coach Richards nodded, clapping them both on the shoulder. "I know you won't. Now go hit the showers and get some rest."

As they walked to the showers, Cory turned to Zach, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We're going to get you bulked up, Zach. It's going to be tough, but I know you can do it."

"Thanks, Cory. I'm ready." Zach grinned, feeling a surge of confidence, and a surge of arousal as they neared the showers. Zach had to maneuver himself to face the wall so Cory wouldn't see how turned on he was.

The next day, Cory approached Zach with a determined look. "Alright, Zach, here's the plan. We're going to focus on getting you to bulk up by increasing your calorie intake. I’ve got an eating regime for you, and I’ll be helping you every step of the way."

Zach blinked in surprise. "Just eating? No workouts?"

"We'll get to the workouts later," Cory said, grinning. "First, we need to get you some muscle mass to work with. Trust me, it’ll make the workouts more effective. Plus, I'll make sure you get the right nutrients. Here, try this."

He handed Zach a thick, frothy protein shake. Zach took a tentative sip and was surprised at how good it tasted. "Wow, this is really good."

Cory winked. "I make them myself. You'll be drinking a lot of these."

Over the next few weeks, Zach's routine changed drastically. Cory provided him with a detailed eating schedule, and Zach found himself eating around the clock. Breakfasts were massive, filled with eggs, oatmeal, and fruit. Mid-morning snacks included nuts, yogurt, and protein bars. Lunches and dinners were hearty, with lean meats, vegetables, and whole grains. And then there were the protein shakes Cory made, which Zach drank several times a day.

Zach was initially confused about why they weren't hitting the gym, but he trusted Cory. Cory was eager to help, constantly checking on Zach's progress and adjusting his meals as needed. During their eating sessions, Cory was more than just a coach—he was a friend, and sometimes, it felt like he was more than that.

"How's the shake?" Cory asked one afternoon, leaning against the kitchen counter as Zach finished another protein shake.

"Good," Zach replied, wiping his mouth. "You really know how to make these taste great."

Cory grinned, stepping closer. "I have a secret ingredient." He winked, making Zach's heart flutter.

As they spent more time together, Cory's behavior became increasingly flirty. He would sit close to Zach, his leg brushing against Zach's, or he’d lightly touch Zach’s arm while explaining something. Zach found himself looking forward to these moments, his crush on Cory growing stronger with each passing day.

One evening, after a particularly large meal, Cory looked at Zach with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I think you're starting to fill out a bit. Let’s see if we can measure that progress."

He playfully poked Zach’s side, making him laugh. "I don’t know about that," Zach said, feeling his face heat up. It was true, all the overeating and protein shakes were making Zach fill out, still, he felt embarrassed that his crush was able to poke at his softer sides.

"I do," Cory said, his tone softening. "You've been working hard, Zach. It shows."

Zach smiled, feeling a warm glow spread through him. "Thanks, Cory. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

Cory's eyes softened as he looked at Zach. "I'm glad to help. And honestly, I enjoy spending time with you."

As the fall continued, Zach diligently followed Cory's eating schedule. He consumed countless meals and protein shakes, all under Cory's watchful eye. But as weeks turned into months, Zach began to notice something troubling. Instead of developing the muscular physique he had hoped for, a form like Cory's, his body was changing in a different way.

Upon looking at himself in the mirror one morning, Zach took in the changes. His belly started had graduated from skinny to a little bulge. His chest had seriously softened and his chest looked almost perky. Everything had gotten softer, from his hips, to his arms, to his thighs, even his face was looking a bit softer. He had trouble getting dressed as all of his shirts had become tighter, clinging to his sides and showcasing his pointed chest. His jeans strained around his waist, as his backside had grown too and he had to suck in to get the button to close. Zach even noticed a few pink stretch marks along the sides of his belly, they were noticeable if he raised his arms too high, since his tight shirt rode up when he did so.

Zach felt a mix of embarrassment and confusion. He was definitely harder to push around on the field, his added weight giving him more stability. Yet, every time he looked in the mirror, he saw his growing belly and softer frame. Still, he trusted Cory, who was spending more and more time with him and seemed genuinely invested in his progress.

Cory's behavior had also changed. He became increasingly flirty and handsy, his touches lingering and his compliments becoming more personal. During their eating sessions, Cory would sit close to Zach, his leg brushing against Zach's or his hand resting on Zach's arm. These interactions made Zach's heart race, his crush on Cory growing stronger with each passing day.

One evening, after another massive meal and an especially large protein shake, Cory leaned back in his chair, studying Zach with a thoughtful, focused expression. "You've been working hard, Zach. I think it's time we checked your progress."

Zach's heart skipped a beat. "You mean, like, on the scale?"

"Yeah," Cory said, his tone encouraging. "We need to see how much you've gained. You've definitely gotten stronger on the field, but let's see the numbers."

Feeling a mix of anticipation and dread, Zach followed Cory to the bathroom. Cory pulled out a scale and placed it on the floor, gesturing for Zach to step on. Zach took a deep breath and stepped onto the scale, avoiding Cory's eyes as the numbers flickered and then settled.

Cory looked down at the scale and whistled softly. "Wow, Zach. You've put on a lot of weight."

Zach's face burned with embarrassment. "Yeah, but it's not all muscle," he mumbled, glancing down at his protruding belly.

Cory stepped closer, placing a hand on Zach's shoulder. "That's okay," he said softly. "The important thing is that you're getting stronger. And honestly, I think you look great."

Zach looked up, surprised by the sincerity in Cory's eyes. "Really?"

"Really," Cory said, his hand sliding down to rest on Zach's back. "I like seeing you grow. It suits you." Cory said as his hand slid lower to Zach's butt.

Zach's heart raced, his mind spinning. He felt Cory's large hand on his butt and noticed himself getting turned on. Cory's touch was warm and reassuring, and the flirty tone in his voice sent a thrill through Zach. "Thanks, Cory. I just didn't expect to get...well, bigger like this."

Cory chuckled, giving Zach's butt a gentle pat. "It's all part of the process. You're doing great, and I’m here to help you every step of the way."

As they left the bathroom, Cory's hand remained on Zach's back, guiding him back to the kitchen. "How about we make another shake to celebrate your progress?" Cory suggested with a grin.

Zach laughed, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. So hypnotized by his crush's hand on his back, he agreed to another shake, despite being painfully full and still in a mix of shock from seeing the high number on the scale, "Sure, why not."

As Cory prepared the shake, he kept up his playful, flirty banter. He teased Zach about his weight gain. As Zach watched Cory prepare the protein and ice cream in the blender, he noticed Cory seemed to be adjusting himself, Zach found himself getting increasingly hot at this. Cory's returned back to Zach with the shake, his hands brushing against Zach's sides and stomach as he set it down on the table, sending shivers down Zach's spine.

Cory glanced over at Zach and said "I'm glad I'm able to help you Zach, I love seeing how eager you are to bulk for me". While doing so he rested his hand on Zachs tight stomach, and started to caress it. Zach felt his cheeks flush and felt himself start to stir. He pulled the big shake to his lips and gulped it down, hoping to draw attention away from the major hard-on forming in his already painfully tight gym shorts.

Over the next few weeks, Zach continued to follow Cory's eating regime, his body growing rounder and his confidence increasing. The extra weight made him harder to push around on the field, and he found himself enjoying the game more, despite his changing body.

One evening, as they sat together after another huge meal, Cory looked at Zach with a soft smile. "You know, Zach, I really enjoy spending time with you. I think you're amazing, and I love seeing you grow."

Zach's heart swelled with emotion. "Thanks, Cory. I really appreciate everything you've done for me. And...I like spending time with you too."

Cory's smile widened, his eyes twinkling. "Good. Because I have a feeling we're just getting started."

The football season came to a close, and Zach found himself both relieved and disappointed. His uniform had grown uncomfortably tight, his football pants snug around his love handles and his jersey straining across his expanding belly. But more than the physical discomfort, Zach felt a pang of sadness at the thought of not spending as much time with Cory now that the season was over.

After their final game, which ended in a hard-fought victory, the team gathered in the locker room for one last time. Emotions ran high as they celebrated the end of a challenging season. As the players began to pack up and leave, Coach Richards called out, "Zach, Cory, can I see you two for a moment?"

Curious and slightly apprehensive, Zach and Cory approached Coach Richards, who wore a thoughtful expression. "I wanted to talk to you both about something important," he began, his eyes shifting between them. "Zach, you've shown incredible growth this season, and I'm proud of how far you've come."

Zach blushed, murmuring a thank you.

"With some of our senior offensive linemen graduating, we're going to need more strong players to fill those spots next fall," Coach Richards continued. "I believe you have the potential to be one of those players, Zach. But we need you to keep bulking up and getting stronger."

Zach's heart raced as he processed Coach's words. He glanced at Cory, who was grinning widely.

"That's where you come in, Cory," Coach said, turning to the athletic jock. "I want you to continue helping Zach bulk up during the off-season. You've done an excellent job so far, the boy has really blown up since he started a few months ago, thanks to you, and I think you two make a great team."

Cory nodded eagerly. "Absolutely, Coach. I'd be happy to."

Coach Richards clapped them both on the shoulders. "Good. I have faith in you both. Keep working hard, and we'll see the results next fall."

As they left the locker room, Zach felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I guess we'll be spending a lot more time together," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Cory chuckled, slinging an arm around Zach's shoulders. "Looks like it. And I'm looking forward to it. We’ve made great progress so far, and there’s no reason to stop now."

The following weeks saw a continuation of their unique routine. Cory ramped up Zach's eating schedule even more, ensuring he consumed an abundance of calories. Zach found himself eating even larger meals, drinking more of Cory's specially made protein shakes, and adding snacks throughout the day. Cory was always there, encouraging him, teasing him playfully, and occasionally getting handsy in a way that made Zach’s heart flutter.

One afternoon, after Zach had polished off a particularly large lunch, Cory handed him another protein shake. "You know the drill," he said with a wink.

Zach took the shake, his stomach already feeling full. "You really think I can get big enough to be an offensive lineman?" he asked, his voice tinged with doubt.

"I know you can," Cory replied confidently, his hand lingering on Zach’s shoulder. "You've got the determination and the heart. Plus, you've already made a lot of progress. And I’ll be with you every step of the way."

Zach smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the calories he was consuming. "Thanks, Cory. It means a lot."

As the weeks turned into months, Zach's body continued to change. His belly grew rounder, his love handles more pronounced, and his arms and legs thickened. His clothes became increasingly tight, but he was also becoming a formidable presence on the field during off-season practices.

As winter warmed to spring, Zach grew increasingly nervous about his expanding size. The clothes he had bought just a month ago to accommodate his weight gain were already getting too tight. His bigger belly strained the buttons on his button-down shirt, and he found himself constantly tugging at the fabric to keep it from popping open. Despite his apprehension, Cory seemed both flustered and excited every time he saw Zach like this, his eyes lighting up with a mix of fascination and eagerness.

One day after school, Cory approached Zach with a familiar, mischievous grin. "Hey, Zach, want to come over to my house for another heavy bulking session?"

Zach's heart raced. He was nervous about his growing body but thrilled at the thought of spending time alone with Cory at his house. "Sure, sounds great," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

Once at Cory's house, Zach looked around, taking in the cozy, welcoming atmosphere. Cory wasted no time and quickly ordered two large pizzas. When they arrived, he set them on the table and said with a wink, "One for each of us."

Zach laughed and eagerly dug into his pizza, savoring every bite. The rich, cheesy slices were delicious, and before he knew it, he had finished his entire pizza. Feeling incredibly full, he leaned back in his chair, satisfied but stuffed.

Cory, however, had other plans. He slid his untouched pizza over to Zach. "Why don't you try eating mine too?"

Zach protested, "Cory, I can't. I'm too full."

But Cory flashed his cute smile and rested his hand on Zach's thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through him. "Come on, Zach. I know you can do it. How about I help you?"

With Cory's encouragement and his growing crush, Zach found it hard to refuse. "Alright," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cory smiled wider and began to hand-feed Zach slices of pizza. Slowly, Zach ate more and more, each bite bringing him closer to his limit. He couldn't deny the thrill of Cory's closeness, the way his hand lingered on his thigh, or the gentle, encouraging words Cory whispered.

Finally, after finishing another eight slices, Zach felt a deep burp rise from his chest, and the bottom two buttons of his shirt gave way, popping off to reveal his tight, pink belly covered in new stretch marks. He blushed furiously, but Cory's reaction was far from what he expected.

Cory's eyes sparkled with admiration as he leaned in closer. "You did amazing, Zach," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. Then, with a tender smile, he leaned in and kissed Zach.

Zach's heart exploded with joy and relief, all his nervousness melting away in the warmth of Cory's kiss. Cory's hand moved gently to Zach's belly, caressing it with a tenderness that made Zach feel cherished and desired.

When they finally pulled apart, Cory's smile was filled with genuine affection. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he admitted.

Zach grinned, feeling a surge of confidence and happiness. "Me too," he said, his voice steady and sure.

As spring continued, Cory suggested they check Zach's progress again. The idea made Zach's heart pound with anxiety. He hadn't weighed himself since the fall, and he was scared to see how much more weight he had gained. Despite his nerves, he couldn't refuse Cory's enthusiastic request.

"Come on, Zach, let's see how far you've come," Cory urged with a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Zach took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Alright," he agreed, his voice trembling slightly. "Let's do it."

They made their way to the bathroom, where the scale waited. Cory set it up, looking back at Zach with an encouraging smile. "You've worked so hard, Zach. No matter what the number says, I'm proud of you."

Zach nodded, appreciating Cory's support, but the butterflies in his stomach didn't settle. He stepped onto the scale, closing his eyes as the numbers blinked and then settled.

"Open your eyes, Zach," Cory said softly, his hand resting reassuringly on Zach's shoulder.

Zach hesitated, then slowly opened his eyes. The number on the scale made his heart skip a beat. He had gained significantly more weight than he had imagined. His face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.

Cory, however, looked thrilled. "Wow, Zach, you've made amazing progress!"

Zach glanced at Cory, his expression a mix of uncertainty and vulnerability. "You really think so?"

Cory stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Zach's waist. "Absolutely. You've gotten so much stronger and more confident. And I think you look incredible."

Zach's heart swelled at Cory's words. The way Cory looked at him, with genuine admiration and affection, made the number on the scale seem less daunting. "Thanks, Cory. I couldn't have done it without you."

Cory smiled, giving Zach's waist a gentle squeeze, and gently shook his belly. "I’m happy to help. And remember, it’s not just about the number. It’s about how you feel and the progress you’ve made."

Feeling a surge of gratitude and affection, Zach leaned in and kissed Cory. It was a sweet, lingering kiss that left them both smiling.

Pulling back, Cory grinned. "Now, let's celebrate your progress with a special shake. My treat."

Zach laughed, feeling lighter despite the scale's reading. "Sounds good to me."

As spring turned to summer, Zach and Cory's relationship blossomed. They were now secretly dating, savoring every moment they spent together. With Cory's encouragement and support, Zach remained on a filling eating schedule, and his body continued to grow.

Zach's chest softened and began to bulge, his shirts straining to contain his expanding frame. His face grew rounder, a double chin forming, and his gait slowed, transitioning to an almost waddle as his thighs rubbed together with each step. His belly grew so large that it started to hang out below his increasingly tight shirts, a constant reminder of his rapid weight gain.

Despite these changes, Cory's affection and support never wavered. In fact, he seemed more eager and excited than ever to help Zach grow. He prepared even more delicious, calorie-rich meals and crafted special protein shakes, all designed to pack on the pounds. Cory's flirty, playful behavior continued, making Zach feel cherished and desired.

One hot summer afternoon, they lounged in Cory's backyard, the sun casting a warm glow over everything. Cory had just finished feeding Zach another large meal, and they were relaxing on the porch, enjoying the gentle breeze.

"You know," Cory said, looking at Zach with a mischievous smile, "I think it's time for another progress check."

Zach's heart skipped a beat, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up. "You mean weigh in again?" he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

Cory nodded, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Yeah, let's see how much you've grown."

Zach took a deep breath, feeling a surge of nervous energy. He knew he had gained a lot of weight since their last weigh-in, and part of him was curious to see the number. "Alright," he agreed, his voice steady.

They made their way to the bathroom, where the scale awaited. Cory set it up, then turned to Zach with a reassuring smile. "No matter what, remember how far you've come. You're amazing, Zach."

With a nod, Zach stepped onto the scale, feeling its cool surface under his feet. He closed his eyes and looked down, prepared to see the numbers higher than before, only there was a small problem.

As Zach looked down he realized he couldn't see the numbers on the scale, his massive belly was too big it blocked them from view. Zach had to lean over and suck in to see what number the scale had finally settled on.

Zach leaned over to look, and the number on the scale took his breath away. He had gained significantly more weight from the last weigh-in, and grown to a heavy enough size he thought impossible to grow to in just a few months, his heart pounded in his chest.

Cory, however, looked ecstatic. "Zach, you've done incredible! I think you'll be the biggest guy on the team now", he said while poking Zach's bloated belly.

Zach looked at Cory, his expression a mix of vulnerability and pride. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," Cory said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Zach. "You've grown so much, and I love every part of you."

Feeling a rush of emotion, Zach leaned into Cory's embrace. "Thank you, Cory. I couldn't have done it without you."

Cory smiled, his eyes filled with affection. "I'm happy to be by your side. Now, how about we celebrate with another shake?"

Zach laughed, feeling lighter despite his increasing weight. "Sounds perfect."