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By all accounts, Mack should have been a standard jock. He had played multiple sports throughout school, and he practically had a mini home gym in his apartment. But his reserved nature had alienated him from most of his teammates. Instead, he had gravitated toward his neighbor, who could somehow always convince him to go on weird adventures.  At first, it was wandering through the “haunted” woods on the other side of their neighborhood. Once Trent could drive, it was exploring abandoned warehouses, and then after high school, it was random road trips. 

But this was more than just a road trip. This was a celebration of their recent graduation from college. Trent had gone away for school, while Mack had stayed close to home. Trent had joked that Mack would be a lost puppy without him, but that’s exactly why Mack didn’t follow his best friend to the big state college. If he ever wanted to try actually dating a dude  (he’d only come out to his family and Trent’s family in high school), he needed to do it on his own. 

But now, the two were up to their old shenanigans. They were both single and untethered at the moment, and they both needed one big, awesome vacation before they officially went from being students to being cogs in the machine. Trent had planned a road trip taking them in a loop that covered every state in New England. Mack shrugged and said,  “Sure, that sounds cool.”

Trent had googled the weirdest sights to see, creepy haunted buildings, and former tourist traps that had passed their prime. That last one had yielded the building that now stood before  them. The question was, had it ever been in its prime? 

“I thought this was supposed to be a Ripley’s Believe It or Not,” Mack said. 

“I said it was like a Ripley’s. But probably weirder. Or worse. Or both. That’s what’s fun about it. Either it’ll surprise us with how wild it is, or we’ll be laughing our asses off at how dumb it is. This is supposed to be some so bad it’s good shit. Just look at that ridiculous sign. ‘Beelieve It!’ Why does it have two Es?” 

“It has four Es.” 

Trent gave his companion a flat stare. “You know what I meant. Anyway, let’s get our tickets  and go in.” 

Mack shrugged. “Alright.” 

Trent knew that was Mack code for, “Let’s do this. I trust your judgement.” 

The building was garish to say the least. The ‘Beelieve It!’ sign had white letters on an eye-searing neon psychedelic swirl, and the façade had diagonal stripes in colors that did not match the sign at all. There was something about the whole thing that was like an optical illusion, as if the building wasn’t quite rectangular. The dimensions almost seemed to shift  

depending on where you looked, so that one moment it looked taller, and then it looked wider, and then it looked slanted, like the whole thing was leaning to the right. That part was pretty cool. 

There was a ticket booth built into the outside wall, so Trent led the way over. He stepped up to the glass and came face to face with some guy’s chest. He looked up and up until he finally made eye contact with a ridiculously tall teenager. These types of attractions always had high schoolers making some summer money, but usually they were just regular pimply,  gawky guys, not freaks of nature. 

After they got their tickets, Trent whispered, “So… uh, that kid must be a basketball player,  right?”

“He can probably dunk the ball without jumping,” Mack deadpanned. It was an exaggeration, but not by that much. 

The lobby was just as wild as the outside. The walls were covered in jagged black and yellow spirals that would make you dizzy if you stared too long. The ticket scanner was another bored teen, but this one was sitting down… on a pair of stools. Trent had never seen anyone so fat. 

The kid scanned their tickets and gave a spiel about the self-guided tour in a monotone voice. “World’s Blankest Blanks are in the front. Concessions are in the middle. The mirror tunnel, blacklight maze, land of cryptids, and hall of weird history each branch off from concessions and circle back around to the World’s Blankest. Take as long as you’d like.  We’re open ’til 9.” 

As they headed toward the first main area, Mack stared at Trent with eyebrows raised as  high as they would go. Well, Trent couldn’t actually see Mack’s eyebrows underneath the jock’s unruly black hair, but he knew that facial expression. Trent shrugged and whispered,  “Fat guys have to work somewhere, right?” 

The two friends made their way to the first main exhibit. It was set up kind of like a weird wax museum. Most of the figures had a platform next to them where you could get your picture taken. Mack at least had no interest in paying for a novelty photo, but he wouldn’t mind posing for some with Trent. He knew his goofy friend would get a real kick out of seeing the results, even if they didn’t purchase them. 

The place was not crowded, but there were a few families, couples, and small groups wandering around, interacting with the different exhibits. Mack pointed to a sign touting the  “Oldest Man Alive.” The wax figure wore only a little earth-colored toga, and he was stooped  with a beard that went nearly down to his waist. There was a spot where you could compare your height with the shriveled figure. 

Trent laughed out loud when he spotted the World’s Largest Bear, a stuffed polar bear the size of a Volkswagen bus. Some kids were posing for a photo as if it was chasing them. 

“See?” Trent said. “This shit is weird in the best way.” 

Mack nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It’s fun.”

Trent got a picture pressing his butt up against the World’s Largest Eggplant. He made Mack  pose next to a giant shark that looked like it was out of a sci-fi channel movie. 

“Hey, look, it’s your dream boyfriend!” Trent joked, pointing to the World’s Strongest Man.  The wax figure looked like it was based on a Photoshopped picture of a bodybuilder, and  Trent had a feeling that the original image might be pretty racy. The figure was holding a giant barbell, and there was an identical barbell on the otherwise empty platform next to it. “Go on, test your strength!” Trent laughed. 

Mack took a long look at the ridiculously proportioned figure and then back at Trent. “No.” “Aww, man,” Trent huffed. “You’re no fun.” 

“One more,” Mack said. “Then we move on. We’ll be back here later anyway.” 

That was a fair point. Trent headed toward the hallway leading to the concessions area.  There were two last exhibits flanking the passageway, and they gave Trent a weird sense of déjà vu. They were the Tallest Man alive and the Fattest Man Alive. “The kid at the ticket booth was almost this tall,” he told Mack, looking up and up at the wax figure. There was a platform where you could compare your height. 

“Even he wasn’t this tall,” Mack replied. “No way this is real.” 

“Obviously they’re not real,” Trent laughed. “That’s not the point. The point is how ridiculous they are. Like this one.” He pointed to the Fattest Man Alive. A digital counter on the wall  behind the figure read “1047 lbs.” The empty platform next to it was also attached to a digital readout on the wall. “Come on, let’s do this one. I bet the two of us together don’t even weigh as much as his gut. Or one of his legs.” 

“Dude. No.” Mack agreed that the weirdness of the exhibits was part of the charm, but this one was extra weird. Someone had put a strangely intense amount of work into making the  folds of fat realistic on the wax figure. The figure rose a little taller than Mack, and it was utterly enormous. Impossibly big. More than twice the size of that massive kid scanning tickets in the lobby. 

The wax figure wore a little strip of white fabric that went down from its shoulder and tucked under its belly. Mack figured it must be for modesty, but it didn’t really cover anything. And the family jewels were very well hidden anyway. The figure’s belly, complete 

with flabby folds, hung all the way down to its dimpled knees. Its hips were somehow even wider than its belly, with love handles and moobs that stuck out equally far. The arms were  positioned at a wide angle, not because of a particular pose but because its enormous  moobs and huge, flabby arms were fighting for space. 

Trent thought it was hilarious. “I think his calves are as big as your waist.” 

That was probably true. Mack had maintained a very trim waist despite his wide chest and shoulders. The wax figure’s huge calves hung down, completely obscuring its ankles. Its thighs were twice as wide. It was absurd. “I wanna see Bigfoot,” Mack said. “Let’s just  go and head to the cryptid area.” 

But Trent held his ground. “You said one more.” He looked up at the “Fattest Man Alive”  sign. Like most of the signs, it had a spiral design behind the letters. This one was yellow and blue. It almost seemed to move when he stared at it. “I want to do this one.” 

Mack couldn’t go back on his word. He was always honest. He followed Trent’s gaze up to the sign. The yellow and blue almost seemed to turn clockwise behind the black letters. It made him dizzy. “Fine. One picture. I’ll pose however you want.” 

Trent pumped his fist and let out a little “Yes!” Louder, he said, “Alright, let’s see if this scale thing is fake or if it gets our weight right. “Oh, and do a muscle pose. Look really serious.  That’ll make it funnier.” 

Mack always looked serious. He stepped up on the pedestal with Trent following close behind. He raised his arms up and flexed, straining the fabric of his t-shirt. 

Trent glanced to his side and then hit a complimentary pose, curling his fists and doing his  best to flex his nonexistent muscles. He laughed as he stepped off the platform. “This’ll be hilarious. Oh look! The kiosk is right here!” He bounded over to see their photo. Mack peered over his shoulder. 

“Look at this!” Trent laughed as the photo came up on the screen. “This is exactly what I  wanted! Two skinny guys–” 

“One skinny, one muscular,” Mack cut in.

“–and one totally impossibly fat guy. “Look.” He pointed at Mack’s image. “Your shirt’s riding up so that your Adonis belt is showing. That makes the huge guy look even more ridiculous.  Can you imagine anyone even half his size?” 

“He’s like ten of you.” 

“I’m not that small,” Trent pouted. “Hey, look.” He moved his finger above Mack. “There’s our weight. 349. Think that’s right?” 

Mack nodded. “I’m just over 200 ‘cuz I’m tall, and I’ve got these.” He flexed his biceps again.  You’re probably just under 150 ‘cuz you’re short, and you don’t have any muscles.” He pointed to Trent’s image in the photo. 

“Hey, my shirt’s just hiding my arms.” Trent tugged at his long-sleeve jean shirt. “If I took this  shirt off, we’d both be in t-shirts, and then…” 

“Then we’d see how skinny your arms really are. Just leave it on, bud.” 

Trent didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop examining the photo on the screen. Mack looked so good, the way his shirt rode up, and his Adonis belt disappeared into his baggy gray sweats. And the way his shirt strained over his muscles, and that coolly aloof expression. How was he single? 

Mack’s eyes were glued to the screen too, but he was doing mental math. “According to the  scale, that guy is three of us.” 

“Huh?” 

“It would take three of you and three of me to weigh as much as the fattest man is  supposed to weigh.” He looked down at Trent’s trim waist and skinny legs. “He’s  unrealistically huge, and you’re…” 

“I get it,” Trent huffed. “Okay, wanna go get some food? And then we can see Bigfoot.” “Cool.” 

The stripes, squiggles and spirals theme continued into the concessions area. There  was a surprising number of different booths, each with different types of food and drink. 

One had a bunch of different types of loaded fries. Another had hot dogs and brats with several fried sides. Trent’s eyes were pulled toward the one with deep fried Oreos and candy bars. Mack drifted toward the one with a milkshake machine. 

Each booth’s sign and décor were as eye-searing and trippy as the building’s façade. Trent  stepped up to the one labeled “You Love it Deep Fried!” The blue and purple squiggles on the sign seemed to bend and wave when he looked at it. God, he was hungry. But he wasn’t sure what he actually wanted. He pulled out his wallet and opened up his mouth to speak,  and… 

The clerk, a chubby kid who wasn’t nearly the size of the ticket scanner, was handing him  his order. “Here’s your mega hash brown, sir. Enjoy.” 

Trent robotically reached out and grabbed the wax paper wrapper. It had a black and yellow  swirl that drew his eyes into the center. “When did I order…?” 

Trent had to work to tear his eyes away from the colorful wrapper. He took a bite of the fried  treat, and his eyes nearly rolled up in the back of his head. That was damn good. Perfectly salty and potato-y. 

“Dude.” Mack snapped Trent back to reality. He was holding a big yellow cup. “Ready?” He  jerked his head toward the doorway labeled “Land of Cryptids.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” The doorway turned out to lead to an elevator. As the elevator door opened, Trent took another bite of his snack, and Mack slurped on his milkshake. The moment the door closed behind them, the lights started flashing different colors. “Uh, I  guess we'll get a mini light show while we’re in here,” he joked. And then the lights went out,  and the elevator was plunged into darkness. 

Trent paused, misstepped as he crossed the threshold into the hallway, and Mack nearly walked right into him. 

“Move,” the taller young man said. 

But Trent didn’t. Instead, he turned back to look at the inside of the elevator. When did the door open? He must have zoned out during the boring, uneventful elevator ride. As he finally moved enough to let his friend out of the elevator, he looked down at the untouched 

fried snack in his hand. He took a bite of the giant hash brown, and his eyes nearly rolled up  in the back of his head. That was damn good. 

“Dude, how many calories is that?” Mack asked as if his milkshake wasn’t even worse. “We  had lunch before we got here.” 

“Look, I know I’m not as skinny as I used to be,” Trent snapped. “But I’m not counting  calories on vacation.” Trent wasn’t big or anything. He just wasn’t a stick anymore like he’d been in school. He wondered why he’d worn these jeans today. He hardly had a belly, but the waistband dug into his middle. 

Beside him, Mack hypocritically slurped his dense milkshake and gave an exaggerated sigh.  “What flavor is that?” Trent asked. “Strawberry?” 

“Duh.” 

Mack had very specific tastes. Once he decided on a favorite flavor, that was his only flavor. Strawberry milkshakes were a weakness for him. He put a hand on his slightly soft middle.  Those milkshakes were probably part of the reason he didn’t have a six-pack. He unconsciously flexed his arm muscles. He might not be lean, but he was built. 

Trent reached toward his friend. “Can I have a taste?” 

Mack snatched the cup away from Trent’s grasp and held it close to his chest. “No.” “Oh, come on. One sip.” 

“Get your own. We’ll pass the concessions again later.” 

“Fine,” Trent huffed. It was just for show. He knew how much his best friend loved a strawberry milkshake. He wasn’t actually surprised that Mack was getting possessive of the sweet treat. He resisted the urge to make a jab about how Mack should have fewer milkshakes if he didn’t want a huge gut. If he did that, Mack would just call attention to the fact that Trent’s belly was looking kinda round these days. 

The Land of Cryptids was a long curving hallway that constantly sloped slightly downwards,  gradually taking them back down from the second floor to the first. As they walked through  the exhibits, Trent munched on the candy bar, and Mack slurped on his shake. There were 

blurry bigfoot photos and a model of a yeti. There was a whole section for the Loch Ness  Monster and other huge creatures that lived in the various lakes and seas of the world. Now this was the stupid shit they were here for. 

Trent polished off the last bite of his snack. That really hit the spot. He went to throw the  wrapper away, but the yellow and black swirl caught his eye again. He could swear it was twisting into a spiral that turned and turned and turned… 

Trent felt pressure building up in his stomach, but then there was a ‘ping,’ and he felt better. “Dude,” Mack said. “You popped a button again.” 

Trent blushed. He knew his jeans were getting tight, but he didn’t think they were that bad.  But he’d gained a fair bit of weight since high school. He didn’t just have a belly. A soft roll drooped over the top half of his waistband. When his mom saw him before graduation, she had not so diplomatically said he was getting chunky. 

Trent glanced at his taller friend. At least he wasn’t the only one who had sort of let himself go. As they walked through the rest of the hallway, Mack kept having to pull his t-shirt down in an unsuccessful attempt to cover the bottom of his own little belly. 

After the duo passed a bunch of stuffed jackalopes, they found themselves back in the circular wax museum. On this side, there were replicas of the supposed bakers of the  World’s Largest Pie. The two passed through the exhibits, checking out a few they hadn’t seen yet on their way toward the concessions and the entrances to the other wings. 

Trent felt like he needed one more funny photo op before they moved on, although he was a  little self-conscious about photos lately. He spotted one exhibit that they’d bypassed the first time. “Hey, we’ve gotta do that one,” he told Mack, pointing at an enormous wax figure that was supposedly on a scale. The sign had a cool, almost hypnotic spiral design. 

“Dude. No.” 

But Trent was not one to give up easily. The supposed Fattest Man Alive looked totally ridiculous. And he saw the perfect opportunity to pull Mack in. “That guy’s doing it.” The guy in question was a wavy-haired blond twink around their age who was there with his family.  “He’s cute, right? Is he your type?”

Mack didn’t answer. The guy was pretty good-looking, but he was really, really skinny. Even if he was Mack’s type, the stocky jock wasn’t so confident ever since he had started putting on weight. But the blond was cocky with a toothy grin, and he held Mack’s eye as he posed next to the enormous wax figure. If the digital numbers on the wall were accurate, he was a tiny fraction of the fattest man’s weight. 

“Fine,” Mack muttered. “Let’s do this.” He brushed past the blond twink as they traded places. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught the guy glancing back at him. 

“Show off your muscles,” Trent said as he joined Mack on the platform. “Make it silly.” 

Mack did not do silly. But he knew if he just flexed, Trent would probably find it hilarious.  Especially if the pose made his gut stick out. That thought made Mack blush, but he hit the double-bicep pose anyway. 

Trent eagerly hopped off the platform and stood behind the blond, waiting for his turn at the kiosk. Mack followed. He heard the twink say something about needing an afternoon snack. Once Trent had access to the screen, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Damn,” he murmured. “I forgot my jeans were unbuttoned.” 

Mack peered over his friend’s shoulder. The unbuttoned jeans were barely noticeable. Trent was freaking out over nothing. His little gut mostly covered the front of the waistband anyway. 

Mack was more concerned about the rather large strip of gut hanging out from under his shirt. It was pale and rounder than he had realized. “Shit,” he muttered. Then Mack’s eyes went to the digital number behind their slightly chubby forms. “Dude, we’re 432,” he said. 

Trent was quick to dismiss it. “That’s both of us together. Sure, we’re not so small anymore,  but that’s just college life catching up with us. It’s no biggie. Pun intended. At least we’ll never be like…” he gestured to the wax figure. “That.” 

And with that, the two headed off toward the concessions. Mack’s stomach growled. 

Mack stared at all the trippy signs, not wanting to choose. So many things looked good.  Soft-serve ice cream and giant cookies and huge bags of candy… And then Trent was walking up to him holding a familiar yellow cup and what looked like a churro, and Mack 

was holding a bag of Twizzlers in one hand and a sprinkle sugar cookie in the other. Weird.  He must have zoned out waiting for his food. “What flavor?” Mack asked his shorter friend. 

“Chocolate peanut butter,” Trent replied. 

“Gross.” 

Trent just laughed. How someone with such a sweet tooth didn’t like chocolate and peanut butter was beyond him. “Alright, where are we heading? Weird history? Hall of mirrors? Maze?” 

The stocky jock shrugged and made a noncommittal noise as he took a big bite of his hot dog. 

“Alright, weird history it is.” 

The hall was pretty boring. There were a few wax figures, but it was mostly just pictures and plaques. Trent found his delicious churro and shake a lot more interesting than reading about a bear carrying ammunition in World War II. He opened up the lid of the shake and dipped the churro right in. There was one kind of interesting section on the history of  optical illusions. It had a blurb about the Magic Eye picture craze in the 90s, and there was a huge Magic Eye poster on the wall. 

“I never see it,” Mack told him. 

“You just have to unfocus your eyes.” Trent took a few steps back and pulled Mack over to stand next to him. “Now, try to cross your eyes, and then completely relax your eyes. Don’t  try to actually look at the picture.” 

Mack humored his friend even though it never worked for him. He did his best to follow  Trent’s instructions. The colors and squiggles started to blur, and he could almost see something. It sorta looked like… 

“You saw it, right?” Trent asked as he shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. “It was an ice  cream cone.” 

Mack could swear he had seen something, but he didn’t think it was that. “Whatever you  say.” He popped the last bite of his first cookie into his mouth and prepared to start the 

second one. He let out a small belch and unsuccessfully tried to pull his shirt down. He wasn’t sure why he’d worn such an old shirt. It stretched around his love handles and left a fair amount of his lower belly exposed even when it wasn’t riding up. 

Mack wasn’t the most in-shape guy, even if he did try to lift weights occasionally. He’d been stocky but fit as a teenager, but that had evaporated pretty quickly in college. He’d blown up pretty fast once he was living on campus. 

At least he wasn’t alone. Trent’s belly was trying to escape his shirt too, and his jeans were painted onto his ass and thighs. The shorter guy stuffed some more fries into his mouth and took a step forward, and Mack heard a loud rip. 

“Dude, you’ve got a hole in your jeans.” 

“Mack,” Trent responded, “they’re ripped jeans. They’re supposed to have holes in them.” “Not right in the ass.” 

Trent blushed and reached behind himself. The seam had pulled completely apart at the thickest part of his butt. He knew he’d put on some weight, but it was a lot worse than he thought. “It’s… not that noticeable, is it?” 

“I can see what color undies you put on today.” 

“We’re grown ups now. Just call them briefs.” 

“Fine. I can see your red briefs.” 

Trent started to panic, but then he caught sight of that Magic Eye picture again, and for some reason that calmed him down. “It’s… It’s fine. Right?” 

Mack peered really hard at his friend. “Yeah. It’s fine.” 

Trent breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. Let’s keep moving.” 

Mack followed his friend, putting one thick thigh in front of the other. He kept having to pull at his sweats, which were riding down. He felt a bit self-conscious, but he still shamelessly took big bites of his second sugar cookie, quickly making it disappear.

Before long, they were back in the middle, walking between wax figures on their way back toward concessions to pick their next path. They had already seen most of the exhibits in  the room, but one extra ridiculous one caught Trent’s eye. He felt like he’d seen it out of the corner of his eye, but he hadn’t really looked at it. 

“Check that one out!” he said with a laugh, pointing to the Fattest Man Alive. We should get  a picture next to him.” 

“Dude. No.” Mack looked down at his flabby gut. Taking a photo like that would be a celebration of fatness. He wasn’t totally ashamed of his size, but he still hoped he could lose a few pounds at some point. 

“Oh, come on. You’re no fun,” Trent whined. As he spoke, someone else stepped onto the platform for a photo. The digital scale readout blinked and changed from 0 to 187. “Hey,  didn’t we see that guy earlier?” 

Mack took a look at the blond guy as he stepped off the pedestal. His shirt was pretty tight around his slightly rounded midsection. Mack vaguely remembered seeing him elsewhere in the museum, or whatever this place was. He was kinda cute. 

“Do it for me,” Trent pleaded. “If you do a muscle pose like you used to do in high school,  it’ll be hilarious.” 

Mack touched the bit of bare belly that stuck out from under his shirt. The things he did in the name of friendship. “Okay, but you’ve gotta hold your belly just like the statue guy.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

The two did their photo op, and then they popped over to the kiosk to see the results. It was kinda funny. Mack’s muscle pose looked silly when his arm muscles were clearly covered in a layer of fat. And his shirt rose up to expose his belly button. Trent had a fair amount of visible belly, too. And his lower belly fat had pushed open his fly, revealing a sliver of his red briefs. 

“Damn,” Mack breathed, looking at the number in the photo. “524.” He took a minute to do the mental math. “We’re half his size.”

Trent laughed it off. “Combined. And anyway, he’s not real. Can you imagine seeing  someone who was actually that big?” 

Mack shrugged. “Guess not.” 

“Exactly. Now come on, let’s go do the maze.” 

“Isn’t that just for the kids?” 

“I hope not. I thought it sounded cool. The blacklight thing should make it more  interesting.” 

Trent led his friend into the concessions area. The plan was to just walk right through. After all, they had already stopped for snacks twice. Trent had gotten a giant hash brown and a milkshake and a churro and… 

The crazy-colored signs stopped him in his tracks. It all looked so good. One more snack couldn’t hurt, right? He wasn’t exactly little. He had to feed the tank. He unconsciously patted his belly. Yeah, he could stand to eat a little more, especially if it was deep-fried… 

Trent didn’t really have enough hands to carry the loaded fries, mozzarella sticks and extra-large soda he’d just been handed. He looked over and saw that Mack was having a similar issue with his apple hand pie, and king-size Snickers and his second strawberry milkshake of the afternoon. Well, they would find a way to make it work. Probably by scarfing some of their treats down before they moved on. 

Mack pointed to some small tables on the side of the room. “Eat now, maze after?” 

“You read my mind,” Trent replied. He followed behind Mack as his friend shifted his bulk and headed over to the nearest table. When Mack leaned slightly forward to set his things down, Trent said, “Whoa, man. Crack kills.” A rather large strip of the big guy’s wide rear was showing. 

Mack half-heartedly tried to adjust his sweats, but it didn’t do much. His expansive backside blended right into his back fat and love handles, so his pants were always riding down. Ever since he passed 300 pounds, he’d stopped really caring how his pants fit.

Trent set his own things down, noting with amusement that even the little round tables matched the psychedelic swirl theme. As he settled his own hefty butt into the chair, he  lamented that the seating wasn’t a little more accommodating for big guys. Not that he was as big as Mack, but he had an awful lot of weight in his lower midsection, specifically his lower belly and rear. As he sat down, his mostly exposed belly spilled into his lap. If he kept  snacking like this, he’d be over 300 like his friend before he knew it. 

The two didn’t talk much as they ate. Well, Mack was always quiet except for the loud sounds of munching and slurping, punctuated by the occasional belch. As Trent finished the last of his chicken fingers and set the empty tray on top of the empty fry tray, he wondered how he’d gotten into this cycle of overeating. Sure, he loved food, and he was partial toward anything fried, but he was already a big guy, and he was headed toward being massive if he didn’t do something soon. 

Trent took a long swig of his soda, eyes still focused on the remains of his large snack. The swirls on the tabletop seemed to move under the empty tray. Purple and blue and green  filled his vision. 

Trent set down his cup and let out a loud, unselfconscious belch. Mack smirked. Trent looked again at the empty containers that had piled up on his side of the table: a fry tray  and a chicken-finger tray and an onion ring tray. Whenever he thought about how much food he could eat, he felt a weird sense of pride. He grabbed his last treat, a deep-fried Oreo. 

Mack slid his chairs back – one for each ass cheek – so he’d have room to stand up. He wondered why places like this insisted on such tiny chairs. Couldn’t anyone accommodate a 400-pound man? He put one hand on the table and braced one against the wall as he hefted himself up. “You ready?” he asked Trent. 

Mack’s slightly smaller friend was still gaining his balance. Trent claimed that his ass and belly evened each other out, making it easier for him to move around. Mack thought Trent wobbled just as much as anyone who was north of 350. For half a second, Mack was surprised to see Trent’s bare arms. Wasn’t he wearing a long-sleeve shirt? But then he remembered. Trent had cut the sleeves off of that jean shirt ages ago when his arms stopped fitting in the sleeves. He liked that thing too much to get rid of it, even if it hardly even counted as a vest these days. 

“Let’s go,” Trent said once they had cleaned up their very large mess. “Time to check out  this maze.”

“It had better not be for kids, or we won’t fit,” Mack quipped. 

Trent just chuckled, hiding his very real worry that Mack might get stuck somewhere in the dark maze. The taller guy was awfully big both back to front and side to side, so if there were any tight corners, it could pose a problem. 

Trent found the entrance, a big black door labeled “Otherworldly Maze!” in neon pink,  purple, and yellow-green. He opened it up, and sure enough, the other side was completely  dark except for the blue-purple glow emitting from a few blacklights that illuminated small  corners of the floor and ceiling. When the door closed behind Mack, they were shrouded in darkness except for the glow of their own clothes. 

“You’re blue!” Trent laughed, pointing to Mack’s sweatpants, which glowed a faint blue, and his t-shirt, which looked almost cerulean. Of course, there was a huge gap between the garments where Mack’s belly spilled out of his shirt and covered almost the whole crotch of his pants. Trent’s own clothes looked almost black except for his jean shirt, which also glowed a faint blue. 

Trent took the lead as always. The first section was easy. It was just there to acclimate them. There weren’t any dead ends, just corners that would take you by surprise if you  weren’t carefully watching the glow of each blacklight to look for corners. But then it turned into a proper maze with multiple choices. Trent walked straight into a wall, and Mack’s soft belly bumped right into Trent’s plush lower back. 

“Dude, watch it,” Mack said as if he wasn’t the one who had rear-ended the other. 

After that, there wasn’t room for the two big guys to switch spots, so they just shuffled around in place, and Mack took the lead. He was more methodical than Trent, and they seemed to be making good progress. Just as Mack was wondering how much more maze there was, he wandered into a whole new section. Here, there were colorful neon spirals on the walls that glowed neon in the blacklight. 

The wall designs should have made things easier since they made the walls more visible,  but instead, they were disorienting. Mack would pass a green swirl and a pink one and belatedly realize that there might be an opening in the wall between them. And with nothing to look at except the vivid spirals, his eyes were playing tricks on him. At one point, he was 

so focused on a spiral in front of him that he walked right into the wall. His expansive belly and massive moobs squished right into the spiral. 

“Dead end,” Mack muttered. “You’ve gotta lead again.” He huffed and puffed as he turned himself around in a half-circle to follow Trent. He shuffled along with heavy footfalls. His hand unconsciously went up to one of his moobs. His shirt had rolled all the way up to expose them. He thought about trying to pull the too-small shirt down to at least cover his chest, but then he thought, nah. It was what it was. 

Trent also felt disoriented by the colorful patterns in his field of vision. Every time he stared too long at one of the spirals, he felt a little slower and heavier. But that was just his imagination, of course. He was, after all, slow and heavy. He wasn’t getting hypnotized into thinking he couldn’t move fast, he was just 450 pounds. His movement was perfectly normal for his size. 

Trent had honestly worried that the maze would be way too easy, but it was actually an interesting challenge. And not just because of his size. If anything, the place had done a good job of making the maze accommodating toward big guys like him and Mack. It never  felt cramped except when they ran into a dead end and had to maneuver their combined  hundreds of pounds of fat back toward the correct path. 

“That was kind of awesome,” Trent said as he opened the door back into the side of the wax figure room. He shielded his eyes as he gingerly stepped back into the light. Well, as gingerly as a hefty guy like him could. 

“Yeah. It was cool.” Mack had to pause, put his hand against the wall, and catch his breath as the door closed behind him. Only Trent could talk him into doing this much walking in a single day. He was not an active guy, to say the least. Mack took a good look at his more adventurous friend. “Dude, your moobs are out.” 

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Trent laughed. He reached out and poked Mack’s exposed chest. “You never put those things away.” 

Mack felt… something… when his friend touched his huge, heavy chest. His belly hung low,  and his ass and thighs were thick and wide, and his arms were big and flabby, but his chest might be his favorite part of his size. Sure, the flab pushed out to the sides, getting in the way of his arms, but it was so soft and sensitive.

Mack pulled his hand away from the wall and psyched himself up to do some more walking. “Alright, let’s go.” 

The two young men really took their time moving between the various exhibits. Trent always claimed he moved slowly because Mack got winded so easily, but Mack knew Trent couldn’t move fast if he tried. 

“I’m glad that maze was fun,” Trent said, “because this room has been pretty disappointing. There’s nothing all that shocking.” 

Mack nodded in agreement. “That one looks really dumb.” He pointed at the World’s  Strongest Man, which was pretty huge but not weird or anything. A massively built shirtless man in ripped shorts stepped onto the pedestal next to the wax figure and effortlessly lifted the prop barbell. 

“You’d think they’d exaggerate the proportions at least a little,” Trent agreed. He spotted a wax figure that he’d apparently missed until now. “And look at that one. It says Fattest Man  Alive, but he’s just a little on the large side.” 

Mack shook his head. The supposed scale readout on the wall said the guy was barely over a thousand pounds. That was the craziest number they could come up with? “Lame,” he said out loud. 

But Mack’s attention stayed on the Fattest Man exhibit when a cute blond guy stepped up onto the empty pedestal for a photo. He was pretty small, barely 300 pounds, and only a bit of his belly was visible below the hem of his shirt, but at least the shirt was skin-tight. His belly jiggled an awful lot as he stepped down off the platform. Damn. Mack was starting to feel things. 

“Let’s do that one,” Trent said, breaking Mack out of his reverie. “Just to show how stupid it  is.” 

“Dude. No.” 

“Aww, why not?”

“Will we both fit?” It was a valid question. There was a circular railing around the platform.  It might fit one regular-sized guy or a couple skinny guys, but two regular-sized guys was a stretch. 

Trent looked up at the Fattest Man Alive sign with its familiar yellow and blue swirls. “We’ve gotta do it, man. We’ll fit.” He glanced dubiously at the small pedestal. “I think. Besides…  Don't you want to show off?” He jerked his head toward the blond, who was heading to the photo kiosk but kept glancing in their direction. 

Mack’s usually stoic face slid into a smirk. His hand unconsciously went to his round belly.  He was probably the biggest guy in the room. He could show that little blond what a real man looked like. “Fine. Me first, then together.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

Before Mack stepped up, he took another look at the wax figure. The guy was pretty big, just not unrealistically so. Whereas Mack and Trent’s guts covered their crotches, the Fattest  Man’s belly covered his thighs. His moobs draped low and extended far to his sides in a way that made Mack jealous. His legs were a whole lot bigger than Mack’s, and even his neck was thicker. But he still felt like only a moderate exaggeration of Mack’s perfectly average body. 

Mack sucked in his gut the best he could to get between the railings and onto the platform.  It didn’t do much, but it was enough. Still the metal railings pressed into his gut and love handles as he passed through. Once he was fully on the platform, he let out a heavy sigh.  As he put his arms down at his sides – well, as far down as they would go – his straining sleeves rolled up over the thick pudge of his flabby arms. At the same time, the hem of his shirt finished rolling all the way up over his chest, bunching up just below his neck. 

Mack grabbed a moob in one hand and a handful of belly in the other. Those were the signs of a man who could eat. Once the photo snapped, he gestured for Trent to join him. 

Mack watched his shorter friend make his way up the ramp, facing similar problems. Trent’s lower belly swayed side to side just a little with every step. He tried turning sideways to get past the railings, but the size of his round, partially exposed ass just made it worse.  Although he weighed less than Mack, his fat pooled around the middle of his shorter frame,  making him just as big around as the taller young man.

Mack tried to scoot back to make room for Trent, but his thick ass ran right into the railing behind him. As Trent put his full weight onto the platform, standing belly to belly with his friend, his whole front seemed to soften and droop just a little more. Trent did his best to rotate to face the camera, but it was tough work. 

As Trent slowly turned himself around, Mack noticed just how many holes Trent had in his  jeans. Sure, all of Trent’s jeans had holes where the seams were splitting apart, but Trent’s thighs looked like sausages that had popped big holes in the casings. Trent finally got  himself repositioned, and Mack averted his eyes from the very large display of crack  between Trent’s low-riding jeans and his tiny jean shirt/vest. 

By the time the camera flashed, Trent’s partially bare ass was pressing right into the folds of  Mack’s belly. Now they just had to get off of this stupid platform – it was definitely only made for one person – so they could see their photo. The only problem was, Trent was completely wedged in between the front railing and Mack’s round, squishy body. 

“Suck in,” Trent instructed. “I can’t move.” 

Mack didn’t think he had even another inch to back up, but he tried. The results were not pretty. He leaned back too far, nearly losing his balance. While most of his weight was in his  front, his love handles, back fat, and upper arms were not lightweight. He raised his arms up, waving frantically to regain his balance. As he got back a little bit of stability, one of his hands grazed his moob, and it just stayed there. He started absently fondling his very large nipple. God, that felt good. 

Meanwhile, Trent had a brainwave. He could use the railing and work with it instead of against it. He grabbed his expansive belly and hefted it as high as he could. On his third attempt, he managed to slide the lower roll of flab over the railing. That cleared several inches for him to step forward, leaning his bulk over the surprisingly sturdy metal rail. 

Still draping his flab over the railing, he inched sideways, carefully sliding his bulk off of the platform. Soon he was standing on the little ramp, free from the confines of the pedestal.  He wobbled his way forward, feeling his jiggly fat shake as usual. 

Now Mack just had to get off the platform. He had gotten on, so he could get off. Right? But he could swear the railing closed tighter around his bulk than before. Weird. He got up to the front and braced his hand on the railing, turning slightly sideways. There was nothing 

doing. The railing was going to seriously dig into both his belly and his love handle. Good thing he was so soft and squishy. 

Mack huffed as he waddled down the ramp to catch up with his friend. The blond was done checking out his photo at the kiosk, and now he was not so subtly watching Mack and Trent as they made their way to the kiosk. 

Mack wasn’t the only one who noticed. “The blond guy’s watching you,” Trent whispered.  “He’s good-looking, right? Is he your type?” 

“He’s kinda little,” Mack pointed out. The blond was barely over 300 pounds. Not skinny,  but definitely on the smaller side. 

“Look, I’m just sayin’ maybe you should give him your number. You never put yourself out there. What do you think? Would you date him?” 

Maybe if the guy gained a couple hundred pounds, Mack thought. He just shrugged noncommittally. He made his way over to the kiosk and peered over Trent’s shoulder.  “Damn. We look good.” 

Trent had to agree. He had a sexy crease that went across the lower part of his belly, folding in at the navel. Mack loomed large behind him. The taller young man took up so much space. How was he single? 

“Look at that,” Trent said, pointing to the digital number behind them. “1136. How are they  gonna call that wax figure the fattest man if two regular guys are each more than half his  size?” 

Mack shook his head. “Beats me.” 

“Alright, what next?” Trent asked. “We still have to do the mirror tunnel, right?” “Dude. That means more walking.” 

“Yeah, that’s usually what you do in museums,” Trent responded. 

Mack hefted his huge, jiggly belly. “Do I look like a guy who walks around all afternoon?”

“You look like a guy who sits around on his ass eating sweets. But I’ve gotta make sure you  get out of the house sometimes.” 

Mack gestured to their surroundings. They were definitely not in a house. “Mission accomplished. Now let’s go.” 

Trent wouldn’t let it go. “Look, I’m feeling kinda winded too. Let’s sit down for a bit, and then  we can decide.” 

Mack knew better than to argue. Once Trent made up his mind, he wasn’t going to back down. And Mack did need to sit as soon as possible. He was not built for this much activity.  Trent started shuffling toward the concessions area, and Mack followed behind. For once,  they bypassed the food stands and went straight to the tables. One had bigger, sturdier chairs that felt made just for them. 

Mack dropped his weight into the chair with a grunt. He was not standing up anytime soon.  As usual, his belly engulfed his lap, and his huge chest sat heavily on his stomach. He absently rubbed the crease between his moob and his belly. Across from him, Trent took off his beanie and dabbed at his sweaty forehead. He wasn’t any more built for walking than  Mack was, even if he pretended otherwise. 

A loud belch tore through the room. Mack turned to see the cute blond, who wasn’t quite as  small as Mack had thought before. He had some meat on his bones after all. His big, round belly was mostly exposed, as was only right for a bigger guy. And his pants were barely holding on over his thick thighs and massive ass. Mack felt a familiar stirring. 

Trent smirked as he watched his friend get completely distracted by the heavy blond. “So you do have a type,” he chuckled. 

Mack blushed, which was very uncharacteristic for him. He watched as the blond stood up and headed toward the entrance for the mirror tunnel. His eyes stayed on that fat ass as it swayed away. 

Mack yawned. He’d done too much walking for his nearly 600-pound body. He heaved himself up, spreading his thick thighs wide and pushing off of the table. “Alright, let’s go.  Dinner time.”

But Trent noted that his friend was still staring in the direction of the bottom-heavy blond.  “Come on, big guy. We’ve gotta do the mirrors.” 

“I thought we agreed this place was lame.” Mack took a couple small steps toward the main hall and the exit. 

Trent wasn’t ready to give up. “So we have to end on a high note.” He brazenly slapped his friend’s belly, watching the ripples spread across the wide surface. “I’ll buy you a  milkshake.” 

Mack’s stomach growled. He looked back down at the table with its mesmerizing swirls… 

Mack was sitting down, taking the last gulp of his strawberry milkshake. “Thanks again for the shake,” he said. 

Trent mumbled something in response, but it was unintelligible because his mouth was full of funnel cake. He was pretty sure he’d gotten one of every fried treat they offered here. The two quickly polished off their small snacks and got ready for the final leg of the tour. They shuffled toward the door, moving slowly and deliberately. They both had a tendency to misjudge their size, knocking into chairs or trash cans with their hips or bellies. 

The door led to an elevator that went one floor down. Apparently, they were serious when they called it a tunnel. Luckily, the elevator was plenty big enough for both of them. Mack glanced at the capacity out of habit. 2,500 pounds. They could fit one more regular-sized adult – or maybe two skinny ones – and be fine. 

The elevator door opened into a brightly lit space that started as a relatively narrow space  completely lined with mirrors before opening up into a wide space further ahead. Trent maneuvered himself out of the elevator, scooting one tree trunk thigh in front of the other.  The first few mirrors were completely flat, just showing the pair of very round men ambling down the hallway. Then they got to the silly stuff. 

Mack huffed a little chuckle when he saw himself with absurdly wide hips and a relatively narrow chest. The next mirror had a pretty much opposite shape, making his moobs look extra huge and his legs look impossibly skinny. 

“Check this one out!” Trent laughed, pointing to a mirror that made their bodies look really compact with huge, stretched out heads.

The hall opened up into a larger space that split in two at the far end. The warped mirrors did all sorts of funny things to their reflections. On the other side of the rounded space, the blond from before was taking the lefthand path. Mack’s breath caught. That ass was so…  big. The guy’s pants were fighting a losing battle. It was a great look on him. 

Trent nudged his friend. “Wanna follow him?” 

But not long after, they heard, “Ugh, dead end” from somewhere up ahead, and the blond came waddling back. He locked eyes with Mack, and then he looked down at Mack’s  impressively large body. “Don’t bother trying to go that way,” he said. “It gets really narrow really fast. You would hardly fit.” 

Mack took that as a compliment. He nodded and said, “Thanks.” The blond headed for the other path. 

“That’s it?” Trent whispered. “Thanks?” 

Mack tilted his head and shrugged. 

That was not the right answer. Trent shooed his friend forward. “Go. Follow him.” 

Mack did as instructed. It was useless to argue once Trent made a decision. Besides, Mack was more than happy to follow that perfectly wide, round ass. The only problem was, the blond was a bit smaller and a lot faster than Mack. Still, the huge, heavy guy moved as quickly as he was able. 

Trent walked behind his friend, laughing internally at how relatively fast Mack could move with the right motivation. Usually, Trent only saw Mack go that fast if there was a promise of candy. 

The path split again, and Trent heard a quiet “Shit” in front of him. Mack must have already lost track of the blond. “Go left,” Trent said. “The first path was right, so it’s probably not  right again.” 

They turned to the left, and Trent noticed that the mirrors on this path weren’t warped. They all looked flat. Trent gaped at his reflection. The first mirror showed him with his scruffy hair 

looking all messy and no yellow beanie to be found. He frantically reached for his head to make sure his favorite hat was still in place. It was. What kind of crazy illusion was that? 

Mack was looking at the mirrors on the other side, equally confused. One mirror showed him with a tattoo on his huge belly. At first, he thought the “tattoo” was drawn directly onto the mirror, but when he grabbed his gut and shook, the tattoo moved and wobbled. When he moved to the next mirror, the tattoo was gone. 

Trent stared at a mirror trying to figure out what looked so weird about his reflection. Finally, it dawned on him. It made him look at least as tall as Mack, maybe an inch taller. That was weird. Right? 

“Dude,” Mack called out, “this mirror makes my tits look extra huge. Like, extra extra.” 

“Lemme see,” Trent said, turning around. But when he looked in the same mirror as Mack,  he didn’t see anything weird. Sure, Mack’s chest fell over his belly in massive, heavy folds,  but that wasn’t at all unusual. “Looks normal to me,” he told his friend. “What’s weird is…”  He was about to say how weird it was that he looked taller than Mack, but he’d finally  

beaten out his friend’s height when he had that late growth spurt senior year of high school. “What’s weird?” Mack asked. 

“Huh?” Trent had forgotten what he was talking about. He looked around. “Shit. How did we  not notice we were at a dead end?” 

The two tall, obese young men slowly made their way back to the most recent split in the path. They paused to catch their breath. Maybe Mack had been onto something when he said they’d done enough walking for the afternoon. But it was too late to turn back. 

This time, Trent took the lead. Thankfully, this section seemed to just snake around in curves rather than branching off. It had more of those seemingly plain mirrors that showed impossible illusions. One made Trent look shorter than his friend, although the next showed him several inches taller than Mack like normal. Trent loved how much his size – both height and width – made him stand out in a crowd. 

One mirror somehow made their shirts disappear. Another made Trent’s belly look like it hung almost to his knees. That couldn’t be right. He reached under his belly just to make sure he could still reach the unbuttoned crotch of his pants. He could, just barely.

They came around a bend, and the next mirror really threw Trent for a loop. He looked…  skinny. Utterly tiny. His shirt went all the way down his torso, covering his whole flat stomach. Who dressed like that? And yet, there was something oddly familiar about the image, something that tickled his brain. 

Trent spotted Mack’s reflection in that mirror, and he really short-circuited. In the crazy  warped reality of the mirror, Mack was… muscular. Like, with pecs and biceps and stuff.  Just about the only part of the reflection that looked like the real Mack was the unruly black hair. Suddenly it hit him. He knew with absolute certainty that somewhere out there in the multiverse, there was a Mack who didn’t get big like a normal guy. A Mack who dieted to stay lean and who worked out every day. A Mack who only ate sweets when he was splurging. 

And that Mack just might be friends with a stick-thin Trent who didn’t have an ounce of belly fat. Maybe there was a world out there where most guys just weren’t soft and fat. He wondered what that would feel like… 

“Dude,” Mack said, breaking Trent out of his thoughts. “Check this out. I look huge.” 

Trent turned to see the mirror Mack was looking at, and Mack did look huge. So did Trent.  He laughed, and Mack gave him a questioning glance. What was more absurd, having a belly almost down to his knees, or having no belly at all? There was no question. Trent couldn’t imagine ever being skinny. He looked over at his best friend, whose belly and moobs took up most of his body. Mack, muscular? It was a crazy thought. 

Trent shuffled forward to the next mirror. This one showed their bellies almost down to their knees too. It also showed them in shorts that were almost completely hidden by their bellies. Finally, they must be getting to the end of the mirror maze. They were back to  mirrors that didn’t show any sort of warped reflection. They looked perfectly normal. 

“Are we almost done?” Mack wheezed. “I’ve gotta sit.” 

“I know, big guy, I know.” Trent really just called his friend ‘big guy’ out of habit. They were  around the same size these days, and they were both a little above average. Trent was feeling winded too.

Trent turned and found another mirrored wall. It was another dead end. But then he noticed the elevator buttons. The elevator door was disguised as another mirror. Clever. He pushed the button. 

Trent put his hands on his hips while they waited. Or rather, he rested his hands on his love handles. He didn’t really have anywhere else to put them. Mack’s hands found their way to his chest as usual. That was his default – subtly fondling his nipples and chest fat. The door opened, and they ambled inside. 

The door opened upstairs in the wax figure room, and there was the handsome blond,  not far away, leaning against the wall and catching his breath. Like Trent and Mack – like pretty much everyone – he needed an awful lot of breaks in between walking. He wore no shirt, of course, but he had a fanny pack strapped across his very wide torso. The strap dug into his back fat. 

Mack paused to lean against the wall, but Trent whispered, “Go! Now’s your chance. Get  his number.” 

Mack knew Trent was right. He’d regret it if he didn’t say something. If there was ever a time to not be quiet, this was it. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the stranger. “Hey. Thanks  for the advice downstairs.” 

The blond turned to face him and took a long look up and down, taking in every bulge and curve. “You’re welcome. You definitely would have gotten stuck in that little hallway. You’re  even bigger than I am.” The way he said it, it was obviously a massive compliment. 

Mack blushed. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” Suddenly he wanted to back out. He was terrible at this.  But then a huge, round belly appeared by his side. 

“My friend is trying to ask for your number,” Trent told the blond. 

Mack’s cheeks heated even more, and he rubbed his neck. “Yeah. You’re cute.” 

A smile bloomed on the blond’s face. He reached his pudgy fingers into his fanny pack and  pulled out his phone. “Type your number into my phone, and I’ll text you!” As Mack typed  his number, the blond said, “I’m Evan.” 

“Mack.”

“I can’t believe a hot guy like you noticed me, Mack.” 

“You’re cute,” Mack repeated. “Seriously.” He patted Evan’s large belly. “You look like you  can eat.” 

Evan’s grin widened. “Hell yeah.” He took the phone back, checked the area code on  Mack’s number, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I was afraid you’d be too far  away to really see each other.” 

The two talked a little more, with Trent respectfully staying much quieter than usual, but then Mack's stomach grumbled loudly. “I need dinner. Now.” 

Evan nodded. “Go fill up the tank, big guy. I hope… Maybe I can eat with you sometime.” “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

Evan waved goodbye, and Mack and Trent very slowly made their way out of the museum and back to their car. Well… SUV. Who was small enough to fit in a car? 

They passed the ticket scanner out front. He was almost as big as Mack had been in high school. He had potential to get nice and huge in the next couple years. 

“Did you have fun?” Trent asked. 

“Yeah. It was fun. Except…” 

“Except the Fattest Man Alive,” Trent finished. Mack nodded. “What was with that? He was  barely bigger than you!” 

Perry already knew Ben’s reasons for arguing this. “Just because the guy’s got a big dick…” he laughed, having drooled with Ben in the past at how much meat the guy was obviously packing.. With such an athletic frame, Dan always seemed to wear tight little shorts that clung, almost indecently across his groin; the bulge of a very substantial dick almost constantly on display. Ben himself had become obsessed with it. He’d trawled through every social media account of the guy and masturbated countless times, imagining taking such a sizeable manhood into his mouth.

“It’s more than that though,” Ben argued. “Dan just has that ‘big dick energy’ about him,” he explained. “If he is encouraging Luke to gain a few pounds, it’s because he’s getting off on it.”

Perry considered for a moment. “A feeder? Yeah, I could definitely picture that,” he nodded, as if everything added up. “But how do we get Luke to wake up and see that?”

Ben mumbled; no idea coming to mind. If he was ever lucky to be with a guy as handsome and hung as Dan, there would be absolutely nothing that could ever persuade him to give him up.

The atmosphere was tense the next time Ben went over to Luke’s place to watch the big game. Luke seemed displeased by the amount of food Dan had prepared and brought over with him; his voice betraying an icy frostiness whenever he needed to speak to him.

“These look delicious!” Ben exclaimed, seeing the slab of chocolate brownies still in their baking tray. “Did you really make these yourself?” he asked Dan, perplexed that a guy who was clearly so athletic and career-driven, could demonstrate such skills in the kitchen as well.

“My own special recipe,” Dan nodded. “They’re Luke’s favorites,” he stated, glancing over towards the living area where his boyfriend and Perry had settled down in front of the screen. “However, Luke’s suddenly decided he’s going on a diet,” he grumbled with obvious irritation. 

Ben bit into one and moaned in appreciation; the butter, chocolates and sugars filling his mouth with flavor. “These are incredible!” he exclaimed.

Dan beamed. “Have another then,” he offered, holding up a second even though Ben hadn’t eaten even a third of the original brownie.

Smiling, Ben took it nonetheless, holding it in his hands as he chewed through the first. His horny mind couldn’t help wanting to please Dan. It was as if he turned to complete mush every time they were alone together. Dan had come straight from the gym; leg workout complete, both thighs pumped and imposing in his trademark tight shorts.

Dan fussed around tidying up in Luke’s kitchen, clearly not wanting to join his grumpy boyfriend in the living space. Then he turned and smiled as he saw Ben had started a third brownie. “You like those, huh?” he asked interestedly, leaning into the counter almost flirtatiously.

“I could eat these all day,” Ben replied, hoping that it sounded complimentary enough.

Dan sniggered, his eyes momentarily flicking down to Ben’s body. “I’d certainly like to see you try,” he nodded thoughtfully, before preloading Ben with yet another to eat. 

Ben felt his erection building. Never before had he felt under such scrutiny from Dan before. It seemed as if he had the guy’s entire attention as he nibbled and consumed the fourth large brownie. Ten years he had been friends with Luke, but he knew he would throw it all away if he ever got the chance to have a night with his boyfriend.

“I’ll have to make you some more at some point,” Dan smiled as he passed Ben a glass of milk to wash it all down. “I like a man who enjoys my baking.”

“You can bake for me anytime!” Ben smiled back.

“Guys… are you coming to watch the game?” called Perry from the lounge area, staring hard at Ben as if he knew they’d been flirting. 

Ben looked back at Dan and rolled his eyes, disappointed that this flirting session had come to an end. Seeming to sense his wild attraction to him, Dan chuckled back, then lifted another brownie and passed it to him with a devilish grin on his face.

Butterflies fluttered in Ben’s tummy for the rest of that afternoon, catching little glances from Dan that went unnoticed by the other two. The man had suddenly become the most attentive host imaginable, supplying Ben with more of the treats he had brought along for the ungrateful Luke. If only, Ben thought to himself... If only he had a man as sexy as Dan, he would do absolutely anything for him; whatever it took to get that dick up and horny for him.

The delightful news that Dan and Luke had split came a couple of weeks later. Ben knew that he was betraying his friends by messaging Dan, but he’d long since thought of himself as a good friend, given how much he had been fantasising about the forbidden.

Dan, it seemed, wasn’t all that upset by the whole thing, explaining that the end had been coming for some time. He’d enjoyed the ride, but now it was time to move on. He thanked Ben for getting in touch, but his tone was one of finality; as if he never anticipated seeing, or hearing from him again. ‘Do you need some company?’ Ben typed out, not wanting the window of opportunity to close. 

A few, torturous minutes passed by. Did Dan think Ben was despicable for taking his chances like this? Perhaps he had expected a little more loyalty from one of his ex’s best friends. He was certainly walking a very dangerous path should Perry ever find out about these messages.

‘Sure,’ Dan replied breezily, typing out his address. ‘I’ll see you shortly.’

Dan’s apartment was every bit the ‘man cave’ that Ben had pictured in his head. Lacking style and coordination, there were weights across the floor and a series of cheap posters on the walls, more akin to a teenager’s bedroom. The man opened the door with a bemused expression to see that Ben had actually arrived, strolling casually ahead to the sofa to clear some space so that the guy could sit down. The musky scent of an athlete was clouding Ben’s reasoning even more.

Dan was sitting in his large chair, his thick thighs spread. “Want to get some pizza?” he asked casually, as if still not quite understanding why Ben had travelled all the way across town to see him.

“I’m really into you,” Ben blasted out, unable to keep it in any longer. “I think Luke was an idiot for letting you go. I know I’m a crap friend to Luke for admitting it.”

Dan nodded slowly and grinned. “That’s pretty shitty,” he nodded with amusement. “Moving in on your best friend’s boyfriend the same day they split up? You really didn’t think to at least leave it a few days? That’s… pretty bad…”

Ben hung his head, hoping that there was still an opportunity within Dan’s playful tone. “I know,” he agreed. “I’m the absolute worst.”

With an overwhelming tone of authority, an emboldened Dan sat up proudly, insisting that they order in pizza and speak no more about it. The delivery was fast, although they’d accidentally sent double the amount of everything Dan had said he was ordering. There was so much of it, with no means of keeping it, given that Dan’s refrigerator was playing up. And so, Ben did what he could to get as much of it eaten as possible; promising to take one home with him later as well. 

“About what I said earlier…” Ben tried, after a further hour of not discussing it.

“Look…” Dan smiled. “You really don’t want to date a guy like me. I’m not like your friend, Luke. I’m not a good person. I’m kinky; I’m horny and I like to get my own way. I’m not boyfriend material.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Ben tried, sensing things were not going his way. “I just want to see if there is anything between us.”

“Then again,” Dan considered, moving to sit next to Ben on the couch. He lifted his hand and began to stroke the hair out of the guy’s face. “Maybe you are more like me than people realise. The simple fact that you’re here proves that you’re just as selfish and opportunistic.” He paused and laughed; his smile wider than Ben had ever seen it before. “I mean…” he grinned, checking his watch, “I literally broke up with Luke less than six hours ago!” he bellowed, bursting with a smug superiority.

“I’m falling in love with you…” Ben mumbled back.

At this, Dan laughed even harder. “No you’re not!” he countered. “You’re falling in lust!” he blasted, pointing down at the obvious bulge in Ben’s pants. “You’re obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

Ben nodded. He  couldn’t pretend to act cool here. His actions had spoken louder than any words. “I’d do anything for you,” he replied, nodding submissively.

Dan considered what he wanted to say next. “Dating Luke was a bit of an experiment for me,” he explained. “It’s not usually how I get my kicks.”

“An experiment?” Ben asked.

Dan nodded. “An experiment, yeah. I wanted to see if I could do the things I like with a guy as fit and athletic as he was.”

“Is that why Luke was getting so..?” Ben began, not really knowing how to say it.

“Chubby?” Dan finished for him. “Yeah, that’s the reason!” He looked into Ben’s horny eyes, so eager to please him. “Do you think I’m awful?”

“No…” Ben mumbled back. “I think you’re wonderful!”

Dan laughed again, holding Ben’s head in his hands now. “I’m despicable and wicked,” he explained proudly. “I play games and I do whatever it takes to get myself off. I put almost fifty pounds of pure blubber onto your unsuspecting friend, and I’d do the same to you in a heartbeat.”

Ben felt like he was being seduced as Dan leaned in for the gentlest and most sensual of kisses. Despite all the guys he had slept with in the past, Ben could never have imagined that this would have been the most erotic moment of his life to date. Dan was taking him with an expertise that seemed impossible to escape from.

“I made this up for Luke,” Dan explained a few moments later, returning from the kitchen area now with a flask of protein shake he was rocking back and forth. “I told him it’s what I drink after my workouts, but it’s actually nothing like it!” he chuckled. “You wanna know how I fattened up your friend so quickly? These things!” he pointed proudly. “They’re full of fats, sugars, calories and even appetite enhancers. The idiot trusted me so much that I managed to get as many as three of them down him in a single day.”

Ben didn’t react, which seemed to please Dan, who placed the flask down for a second and stood directly in front of his prey. With one large hand, he gently pulled Ben’s head towards him, resting it against his crotch. For Ben, it was a moment of pure elation as he felt Dan’s giant manhood against his cheek and breathed in the manly scent of the guy he had fantasised about for so long. He moaned, moving his head so that he could nuzzle in deeper; like it was the moment he had longed for his entire life.

“You want to see what it’s like when it’s hard?” Dan asked.

Ben looked up and nodded slowly. “More than anything.”

“Well then…” Dan smirked, bending to pick the flask back up and popping the flap over the sipping section, “...you know what to do.”

Ben wasn’t completely sure he was going to take the flask until it was resting in his hands. Dan was nodding at him, silently urging him to continue. Then, in one swift motion, Ben took it to his mouth and began pouring the sweet, sickly mixture down his throat. 

Dan’s tone seemed to change in an instant. The lust and arousal echoing through everything he said. “Oh yes… that’s it!” he coaxed. “Drink it all down for me!”

With a keen eye on Dan’s package, Ben could see an instant visible twitching and swelling underneath the material of the tight shorts. Whatever his expectations were, the mass that was growing within was far, far greater and impressive. He swallowed harder and faster, draining it all: eventually holding the emptied flask above his outstretched tongue, as if longing for one more drop to fall onto it. 

Dan removed his shirt and pulled down his shorts, standing there in just his underwear. Now Ben was only one layer of fabric between his lips and Dan’s extraordinary dick as his face was once again pressed into the man’s groin. Then, Dan was returning to his refrigerator; his sexy, beefy butt disappearing momentarily. He returned a moment later with two more flasks, shaking them up in his hands.

Ben had undressed himself entirely in the seconds that he was alone, resulting in a pleasurable growl from Dan as he handed over the next shake.

Clearly straight out of the cold, the next shake was much harder to swallow without bringing on ‘brain freeze’. In some ways, Dan seemed to get off to this even more, seeing the deliberate pushing Ben was doing to complete the task he had been set. The man reached down and picked up Ben's emptied underwear, sniggering as he saw the size written on the label inside. “Small!” he chuckled to himself. “We’ll soon see about that…”

Ben’s stomach was completely bloated by the end of the third shake. At one point, a completely uncontrolled burp rolled up from his throat, gargling loudly. Yet even this seemed to please Dan, who at last pulled out his erection and slapped Ben across the cheeks with it playfully. Ben turned his face, trying desperately to slip it into his mouth. However, he was only allowed to kiss the head, before Dan cruelly pulled it back into his underwear once more. “Next time…” the man teased, now putting all of his clothes back on. “Next time…”

It was exactly one week later when Ben was suddenly bombarded by a flurry of messages from his angry friend, Luke. Dan had let the news of their encounter slip when collecting the last of his things from Luke’s place and, as a result, had just kicked off the biggest rift that Ben had ever known amongst his friendship group. Suddenly everything was fair game; old arguments from years ago resurfacing and not a single person willing to step up and defend him. He’d always been selfish and difficult, they’d told him, making it clear that he wasn’t part of their circle anymore.

“Why did you tell Luke?” Ben asked, stepping into Dan’s apartment that weekend.

“He asked me outright whether there was something going on with us. Perry had been stirring by the sounds of things. He was going to find out sooner or later,” Dan shrugged. “I don’t like secrets.” “Apart from when you’re secretly fattening someone up?” Ben shot back bitterly. He’d been annoyed by Dan’s actions and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

Dan simply laughed. “Oh, I see! So you think you’re actually the innocent one here?” he mocked. “And no, I don’t do secrets, actually…” he stated firmly. “I knew that you and your friends had suspicions that I was fattening Luke up, but not one of you asked me about it,” he stated mischievously. “If you had, I would have been more than happy to explain the entire thing.” The thought seemed to turn him on and his thick thighs twitched with arousal at the scenario that played out in his head as he sat back casually on his sofa. “Trust me… that’s a conversation I would really, really have enjoyed!”

Ben rolled his eyes sceptically. “You’d be so embarrassed! You wouldn’t want anyone to know the types of things you get off to; the amount of chocolate pastries I had to eat yesterday just to get a glimpse of your dick again…“

“That would be so much easier for you, right?” Dan replied daringly, showing that he was more than a match for a fiery Ben. “If this was just some sly, quiet little kink that only went on behind closed doors… A couple of pounds every few months to keep me satisfied.” He stood up, seeming more imposing than ever before as he came towards Ben, then slowly stroked his cheek. “I’m a feeder… and I’m more than happy for the world to know it.”

There was a devilish twinkle in Dan’s eyes. Ben felt so easily controlled and dominated by him. Even now, his eyes snapped back to Dan’s lips, longing for the man to take him and make him submit.

Dan raised his head towards the ceiling above them. “I’M A FEEDER!” he shouted loudly to the neighbors he disliked upstairs. “I’M A FEEDER!”

“Shush!” Ben called, trying to place his hand over Dan’s mouth.

Laughing, Dan caught him and held him backwards against the back of the couch, smiling down at him victoriously. Ben couldn’t help laughing back. He’d been out-manouvered for sure. It was exactly why he found Dan so irresistibly attractive.Dating a bad boy meant always being at least one step behind, and constantly on his toes. Ben allowed himself to be kissed, even though he knew where it would lead. Another three shakes sat on the counter, waiting for him. Dan had talked about training him up to take down four, or even five of them soon. Maybe then, Dan would finally follow up on his promise to let him suck him off. 

The shakes themselves were fine and Ben found he was able to stretch his stomach out in a way that clearly delighted Dan. However, it was the appetite enhancers that interfered with his normal life the most. Ben had woken at two in the morning, his stomach churning with hunger, only satisfied by three bowls of cereal. Still he nodded his head, signalling Dan to collect the flasks. It was time to get the bad boy very turned on indeed.

“Do you have any fatties in your family already?” Dan asked, lying fully clothed next to a naked Ben on top of the bed sheets. He was playing with the guy’s butt cheeks, checking the bounce and wobble.

“I have a couple of very heavy cousins,” Ben replied. “A few obese aunts and uncles.”

Dan smiled, nodding as if he agreed. “I can tell,” he chirped. “This ass is getting soft as hell already!”

With that, Dan began a vigorous wobbling of Ben’s cheeks, laughing with pride. Ben didn’t need telling that his ass had grown. He could feel it in everything he wore. A great expansion had begun from behind, spreading into his hips and love handles. If he had expected his body to resist a little longer, or start by storing the fat only on his stomach, he had been sadly mistaken. He didn’t look at all like how Luke had done, unknowingly undergoing the same treatment. His shape was different: softer and more blubbery. To Dan, it didn’t matter. Fat was fat, and this was his fat; the fat that he had pushed onto Ben himself. With each pound and fluttering of lard, he seemed to grow stronger and more assertive with him.

Ben raised his butt up slightly as Dan teased him with the dildo he wanted to train him with that day. It had been his promise, should he get four of the shakes down before five in the afternoon: Dan would at last begin training him to take that giant manhood of his. However, Dan explained that it was something that would take time. Ben could be broken in, but not straight away, and the building up period could be time consuming. Given that Ben hadn’t been with anyone for over six months, Dan had wanted to start him off with something just slightly larger than the average, lining up the dildos in his collection until they resembled something that matched his own monstrous size.

Ben had always been the submissive one in the bedroom and being penetrated always seemed to flick a horny switch inside him that made him want to relax and surrender himself entirely. With Dan, that meant an added opportunity for him to take advantage by handfeeding him from a box of doughnuts whilst simultaneously working the stretching hole. He’d already pushed himself so hard to get Dan to do this to him, but now the calories were being pumped in at an even faster rate. His own submissive fantasies started to run away with him. All of Dan’s extreme desires to transform his body became ever more kinky to him. Yes, he wanted that giant, fat ass that Dan could fuck. Yes, he needed to grow the tits that Dan would get off to playing with so much. He’d lost count of how much he’d eaten already. Even bloated as it was, his stomach still seemed to have endless capacity; only realising how much he had overdone it after he had been allowed to climax, rubbing his tight, overstretched stomach until well beyond midnight.

Ben had known about Dan’s upcoming business trip for quite some time. He had hoped to be able to pack on enough lard to entice Dan into fucking him before he left, yet that deadline had come and gone. What surprised Ben the most during those four weeks without Dan was how insatiable hungry he was most of the time. Feeding himself made him hard. He’d taken to limiting his activity and attempted to take all that he had learned since being with Dan in order to create a truly momentous spike in his weight during the period of his almost-lover’s absence.

What turned Ben on so much was how obviously horny Dan was in his messages. He was bossier than ever, requesting certain pictures and poses to be sent to him. Giant fast food orders arrived late into the evening, sent from a lustful Dan, held up in the bedroom of his motel. Ben would do his best to gorge upon it all, knowing that Dan would be stroking that beautiful dick of his as he watched video after video of him; stomach bloating more and more. It had helped that he had managed to find some of the appetite stimulants that Dan often crushed up and put into his shakes; otherwise, the whole thing might have been considerably more challenging. Some nights he fell asleep with half a slice of pizza still in his hand. More than a few times he’d spent the entire night on the couch, waking in the morning with his usual morning wood and jacking himself off as he continued to gorge upon the rest of the cold pizza. 

Flabby. It was the one word that best described Ben’s new body. Devoid of any new muscle, his skin became significantly softer and began to loosen itself from the normal shape of his body, held up by an insulating layer of pure blubber. The little pot belly had been forming for some time, but now it was the top of Ben’s belly where he really noticed the changes. It felt as if an entire new roll of fat was forming under his chest; one that he could already very easily grab onto and jiggle. His nipples had started drooping and it felt strange to feel the new fat pushing so relentlessly from his chest, underneath his arms and swelling into his shoulder blades.

Although it would have been sexy to have Dan undress him as he came over for the first time since he had returned from his business trip, Ben knew that his body had a certain shock factor to it after such a transformative few weeks. Dan arrived to find Ben was completely naked as the door was opened to him. That moment was pure kinkiness, watching Dan’s startled reaction as Ben stood there; the feeder absolutely caught off-guard by it all.

Not to be outdone, Dan smirked and took Ben’s hand, pulling his naked form out into the hallway of the apartment building where he kissed him with a calm passion, not inclined to rush in the slightest. A large hand cupped one of Ben’s glutes and began bouncing it as he kissed his lover in full view of anyone who may show up at any time. 

“Shall we go inside?” Ben whispered nervously, trying and failing to hide how nervous he felt. Although he had initiated this nakedness, he had never expected to be exposed for quite this long.

Dan smirked once more and kissed him slowly again, his hands now pinching at the fat that was encircling Ben’s torso. “We can go inside as long as you promise to drink every last drop of this calorie shake I've got in my backpack,” he offered slowly.

Hastily, Ben nodded and slipped back inside, having to reach out and grab Dan’s hand to pull him in too. A full inspection of Ben’s body then ensued as Dan put his backpack down and studied every last inch of the fresh fat that had poured onto Ben’s physique.

“I’m really starting to look properly fat now, don’t you think?” Ben asked, fishing for a compliment from his man. “I’ve been eating non-stop for you.”

Dan merely raised an eyebrow and kissed him sweetly. His hand clamped over Ben’s erection and a slow, light stroke started to make the fat boy’s knees quiver from the exciting pleasure. When Dan finally pulled out the contents of his backpack, it was clear to Ben that he had agreed too quickly to consume the shake that had been prepared. The container it was in had been vast. Only Dan, with his large, strapping shoulders, would have been able to carry it so effortlessly on his back all the way here. Out came the funnel as Ben merely stared in horror at it, knowing how much he had already bloated himself that morning in order to look as plump and rounded as he did at that moment, ready for Dan.

As instructed, Ben lay back in his chair and tiled his head back. Well used to the mouth of the funnel between his teeth, he was at least relieved that the mixture was not as cold and difficult to swallow as some of the previous shakes he had been given. Dan sloshed the great mixture full to the very top of the funnel and topped it up mercilessly. At the end of the first round, the funnel was lifted and Ben sat up slightly, just as a furious blast of gassy air rolled up his throat at top speed, making him roar like a dinosaur. The relief had been incredible. Belly rubs and kisses came next and Ben was surprised to see that over half of the large shake mix had already been pumped into his body. As such, he knew that as he lay back for round two, the expectation was for him to finish every last drop. 

Swallowing was harder now, the process more laboured and difficult. Yet Dan waited patiently, without mercy, topping up the funnel until he could toss the old, emptied container away. “Come on, Fatty,” Dan coaxed him. “Anyone would think you didn’t want to suck my dick tonight…”

His eyes flashing with hope, Ben began pushing harder than ever. After what had felt like minutes of zero progress, the funnel at last seemed to feel lighter; the levels receding. 

“Now, THAT is going to do some damage!” Dan hooted with delight as he pulled the funnel out and grinned at how well Ben had done to complete his task. More roaring burps rolled up from the boy’s throat and he tried to shift himself to get comfortable with such an incredibly distended stomach. Yet, down below, his erection remained as concrete-like as ever as he saw Dan unzipping his fly and pulling out his own epic hardness for the horny boy who had just obeyed him so well. “I hope you’re still hungry,” he teased, clamping his hand over all but the tip of the shaft and moving it closer to Ben’s lips for the first time. Ben could hardly believe that it was soon sliding over the end of his tongue and he moaned in appreciation of having even a tiny fraction of Dan’s dick in his mouth. He knew Dan would not allow any more of it, and that was understandable. If the big man tried to push it too close to Ben’s throat, he could easily end up vomiting after the amount of shake he had just consumed; something that Dan would never permit. He wanted every last calorie in there, working its magic.

“The fatter you get, the better you’re going to be at taking this thing,” Dan declared, appreciating how much effort Ben was putting in to try and pleasure him with only the tip of his dick to suck. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to last long before he came. With only seconds to spare, he pulled out of Ben’s mouth, ejaculating all over the chub’s face as the boy greedily hung his tongue out, hoping to collect as much of it as possible.

“What’s all this?” Ben asked a couple of weeks later as Dan arrived at his apartment, quietly unloading a whole stack of clothes from large shopping bags, as well as his backpack. Silently, Dan seemed to be arranging them all into three very distinct piles.

Dan didn’t answer straight away; he was too busy checking and double-checking his sorting. “These are for now,” he declared, placing his hand on the first pile of t-shirts, shorts and sweatpants. He moved his hand over for the second pile. “These are the ones you’ll be ready for in a few weeks,” he declared, opening up a pair of folded underwear and giving Ben a brief look at their incredible width. “And these…” he raced on, not wanting Ben to jump in and talk over him, “...are the ones for next year or so,” he smiled, already picking this particular pile up. “I’ll put them at the back of your closet before I leave.”

All afternoon, as Ben ate, gorged and jiggled his fat for Dan, he continued staring at that pile of clothes just visible through the ajar door to his closet, wondering. With his mind a little distracted, he was somehow able to eat more than usual. Dan’s boner was standing out more and more as it grew down one of the legs of his tight gym shorts. Occasionally, Dan would rub Ben’s face into it, shoring up his commitment to serve and eat for him.

“Why do you keep looking over there?” Dan asked, noticing that Ben wasn’t concentrating on the giant cream cake at his face as he was down on all fours, ass up and getting trained with the final size dildo. Dan stood up to get a better look, pulling open the door and noticing the pile of clothes from earlier. He laughed to himself. “Oh, I see!” he smirked. “You’re curious to see how fat you’re going to be in the next eighteen months or so?”

Ben nodded, his mouth covered in cream and his drooping stomach aching with the stretch.

Dan picked up a folded t-shirt and dropped it by Ben’s plate on the floor. “You can look when I say,” he declared, pulling the giant dildo clean out of Ben’s butt and removing his own pants. Surely not? This wasn’t about to happen, was it? “Head down, Fatty!” the gruff man ordered, pressing Ben’s face into the cake once more until even the frosting was sliding up his nostrils. Then, with a wave of real pleasure, Ben felt Dan’s real dick starting to slide inside him for the first time. 

The man was so strong and powerful, Ben quickly realised that although the dildos had trained him to take the size, they hadn’t prepared him to keep his balance whilst this was all happening. Fat rippled and jiggled with each thrust and Ben dropped his forehead onto the plate for extra support; sucking and licking at the cake from that position. Everything had been so incredibly worth it for this moment, Ben realised, finally finishing his dessert and surrendering further by dropping his chest onto the floor too; only his wide rear still aloft.

Dan was getting close to climaxing; Ben could hear it in his breathing and soft moans. In a fast, almost panicked tone, he ordered Ben to unfold the clothes and look, as if he only had seconds to spare before he would finally finish. Ben pulled himself up a little, bravely lifting one arm to unfold the t-shirt. His brain didn’t compute it at first. The shape wasn’t right for a t-shirt. He unfolded further, realising that there was a lot more material than he had anticipated. Then, suddenly, the realisation hit him. This wasn’t a t-shirt; they were the largest pair of underwear he had ever seen; grotesque and obscene. Ben couldn’t even picture an ass being large enough to ever fill them, let alone his own. He must have gasped in shock and horror, for that was the moment that Dan came, moaning loudly and triumphantly. The pleasure chemicals in his brain must have been pumping furiously, for he laughed heartily at the reaction even after he pulled himself out of Ben’s butt. With his strong arm, he pulled Ben back to a sitting position on the floor and positioned himself just behind. He leaned Ben back into his strong chest as he filled his hand with lubricant before strapping one hand onto Ben’s dick, like it was a necessary chore that needed completing. Ben was always ridiculously easy to bring to orgasm this way, but today he was still trying to take in what he had seen: what Dan truly expected of him. 

Between sweet little kisses on the side of his head, Dan couldn’t help continuing to burst into small bouts of laughter still. He could tell how stunned Ben was: the sheer giant size he was expected to fatten to.

“You know, if you don’t want me to make you that fat, there is something you could do…” he whispered teasingly into Ben’s ear.

“What is it?” Ben asked back keenly.

Still stroking Ben’s throbbing erection, Dan didn’t reply immediately. With his free hand, he’d pulled out his cell phone and was tapping through the screens, pulling up a timer. “If you can hold back and not squirt everywhere in the next minute, I’ll let you off. You won’t ever need to get fat enough to fill those underpants,” he offered. “I’m totally serious. This is your chance, Fatty.” Then, with a decisive tap, the man began the counting.

Ben tried to breathe heavily. His stomach was so round and stretched, he could hardly see what Dan was doing to him below his waist, but he knew that it felt so damn good. His body shuddered, his shaft getting more and more sensitive.

“Don’t cum, Piggy!” Dan whispered into his ear.

Ben closed his eyes and tried with all his might to hold back. Fifty seconds, that was all he needed to keep strong for. Forty-nine… forty eight….

Ben grunted as all hope escaped him. He moaned and whimpered as he felt the first shoot hitting just below his belly button, then a more ferocious fountain-like squirt landed heavily, just below his nipple, followed by several others.

“Thirteen seconds!” Dan chuckled after it was all over and the fat boy lay against him still, utterly spent. “Is that really the best you can manage, Fatty?” he asked, rubbing the distended stomach now that Ben had ejaculated all over it. “That was your one chance!” he teased. “Now you’ll have to become a monstrous pig for me after all!”

After that day, Dan stopped holding back on fucking him. Ben became obsessed with it; that feeling of such a massive hardness inside him. Dan could hold an erection inside of him for an insane length of time, sitting him on his lap and feeding him an entire meal whilst deeply buried. Ben felt as though he had been given the keys to the castle, spending hours over the coming weeks, sucking, massaging and pleasuring that giant dick. He wanted to serve it with reverence and respect, always knowing that he had to eat heartily to watch it explode.

“You know… you shouldn’t be so nice to it,” Dan chuckled as he looked down at his fat lover sucking him off as if nothing in this world brought him greater pleasure. “My dick is the one who is making me feed you so much. You’re just encouraging it,” he teased.

Ben moaned with contentment, rolling his tongue down the shaft. “I don’t care!” he sighed, resuming his pleasurable task.

Dan pulled his hardness back from Ben, holding it up with his hand and pretending to talk with it. “What’s that, buddy?” he asked. “You want to watch the pig down his next calorie shake? Well, alright then…” he smirked, getting himself up. “You’re the boss!”

Time marched ever onward. In Ben’s eyes, his butt had lost that cute, rounded plumpness as it became significantly wider and flabbier. Fat from the love handles melted into it and the blubber in his thighs could occasionally rub uncomfortably. He’d considered growing a beard to try and mask the massive influx of fat that seemed to be launching a full-on assault on his neck. However, Dan had been quite insistent that he would never permit it, even insisting that Ben’s hairstyle remain the same so that he was more easily recognised by those who hadn’t seen him in a while. He’s begun carrying a lot more fat at the tops of his arms, and the fat that had spread into his chest had altered his shape considerably. No matter where Dan grabbed at him now, the man was likely to be able to hold a nice wedge on fat that he had pumped into him.

Ben had assumed that his family would have had more to say about the matter. However, they were each so captivated by Dan and how openly affectionate and attentive he was with him, they seemed to close their eyes and ears to all else. Dan actually found amusement in how far Dan could push things, deliberately overfeeding Ben in front of them and selecting clothes for him to wear that were clearly an unflattering fit.

When Dan asked him to move in with him, Ben had leapt at the chance without a second thought about his waistline. Ever since they had got together, Dan had boasted about how ‘fat friendly’ his apartment was, with its large shower and open plan layout; not to mention all the fast food places nearby. It had been the guy’s ultimate fantasy to keep a guy well fed and enormous in his own home. It had been a goal he had worked towards for years, unafraid to step over people at work in order to get those promotions and boost his income to fund it. Since they’d got together, Dan was starting at his third new company and had encouraged Ben to drop two days a week in his own job.

Ben had always known that Dan was active on websites that allowed him to express his kinks. He knew that Dan had spoken to people, both before and during his time with Ben, about the things that really turned him on. There were guys all over the city who were into this, if you looked hard enough. Ever the enterprising businessman, Dan had realised that the ever increasing contrast in body shapes between them was a perfect selling point to make some extra cash. Ben found it so kinky to think of people watching him getting fucked by Dan. Without fail, the strong man was always rougher and more vocal whenever they were recording. Guys would come up to Dan in the street and shake his hand. They’d look across at Ben with a mixture of awe, disgust and unrestricted amusement. Sometimes they would refer to him as ‘the pig’ just as Dan did on camera. During those instances, Ben felt like a fat whale. But for the majority of the other times, the 340lbs of his blubbery body didn’t feel like much at all. Perhaps it was because Dan always spoke of greater and greater numbers and the more extreme features of obesity. Certainly, Ben had expected to feel considerably more lardy at this point that he actually felt.

Collaborating with others had always felt like a kinky next step. Dan had made it fiercely clear that no one else would ever be allowed to fuck Ben’s ass and, as such, Ben felt quite happy to stipulate that he din’t want anyone else sucking Dan off. Despite Dan’s spectacular body, it was always Ben who was the star of the show. Strapping feeders arrived, ready to collaborate and watch Ben feast. Sometimes they would push doughnuts in whilst Dan pounded, or they would pinch, jiggle and stimulate him as Dan fed him instead.

“What’s in that shake?” one handsome twenty-two year old up-and-coming feeder asked as Ben busily swallowed from the funnel that Dan was holding above his head.

“Mostly cream,” Dan replied nonchalantly. “A lot of fatties can’t digest it all that well. I just dropped lucky with this pig,” he laughed, grabbing a drooping nipple and jiggling it. “I think that’s a big reason why he’s so beautifully soft all over.”

“You can say that again!” marvelled the new guy, studying Ben’s body with fascination. “There’s not a single muscle I can see on him at all.”

Dan laughed again at that, grabbing the new, more extreme fat that was amassing at the back of Ben’s arms and making it dance. “That was exactly the look I was going for: pure lard.”

In situations like this, it always felt kinkier for Ben to be spoken about like he wasn’t there. He’d actually had no idea what his shakes were made up of, but now that he had heard that it was mostly cream, he sucked harder, enjoying the taste.

“He’s fast!” grinned the new feeder, grabbing a doughnut as he watched Dan pulling the emptied funnel away.

“Wait,” Dan ordered, grabbing the guy’s wrist as he went to push the sugary snack towards Ben’s mouth. “The pig always needs a second to…”

Up came a rolling , ferocious burp, bringing the immediate relief that Ben was well accustomed to now.

“Now you can feed him again,” Dan smiled, releasing the guy’s wrist and patting him encouragingly on the back as he set to work on stuffing even more into Ben. 

Very often, Dan could take a back seat to all this; seeing himself as the mentor to these younger guys who would build upon his work and take things even further with the next guy who was unlucky enough to cross their path. Then he’d watch with pride as they’d always want to jack themselves off across Ben’s increasingly enormous belly.

At 400lbs, Ben was permitted to drop another day of work per week. With a new manager making her presence known, Ben disliked his job intensely now. He’d come home with stories about how awful she had been, only for Dan to chuckle at how out of touch Ben seemed about the world of real work. “She’s fully within her rights to do that,” he’d argue, watching Ben comfort-eating an enormous slice of cake. “You just don’t like it because she’s actually trying to make you do some work!” he teased, poking his lardy, overfed and lazy boyfriend in his fat tummy.

 “I just want to quit, stay at home and be your fat boy!” Ben countered, trying to use a cute voice that often helped to get him his own way.

Dan laughed, seeing straight through it. He gazed lovingly into the chub’s eyes, brushing his thumb against the side of Be’s face where the fat was starting to bulge outwards, below his previous, long-forgotten jawline. “You’re not fat enough to justify that yet,” he replied.

Ben pouted, knowing that he’d have to go back to that awful place next Wednesday and Thursday. “But when will I be fat enough?” he asked, whining.

Dan looked him up and down, considering the question extremely carefully. “Five hundred pounds,” he nodded at last. “I think that would be a good stage for you to stop working.”

Perhaps Dan didn’t consider how important the number would be for Ben, but as the words left his mouth they immediately stuck in the guy’s brain like a slip of paper held up by a thousand drawing pins. On his days off, Ben began editing the videos and collaborations they had made to encourage new subscribers. With a global audience, he had kinky guys offering to send food over no matter the time of day. And, with eighty-five pounds still to gain, Ben accepted every time, without fail. Also on his days off, he had nothing to do but eat, sleep and prepare himself for when Dan would arrive back, unbuckle his pants and immediately start to pound him, as if releasing his own stresses from a day of managing people. One thing was certain: the larger Ben grew, the louder and faster Dan seemed to finish as he entered him. He took pride in taking their kinky guests on a tour of Ben’s increasingly lardy body when they came over, rocking grotesquely fattened areas back and forth, lifting and squeezing at the more extreme rolls of fat.

“He’s so much bigger and softer than I thought he’d be!” marvelled one feeder, making Dan laugh.

“It’s his huge ass, isn’t it?” Dan asked. “Everyone says the same thing.” Despite all these collaborations with other feeders, it was always the videos where Dan fucked Ben’s monstrous butt that continued to sell the best.

“He can drink it so fast!” gasped another feeder, watching the shake inside the funnel getting sucked into Ben’s body with such speed.

Dan merely stood back and smirked, knowing exactly why so much extreme blubber was packing on so quickly across Ben’s body; puffing up his huge arms, filling up his inner thighs. The increasingly rotund boy had been weighing himself daily. With such a great paycheck, Dan had hired a cleaner to do the housework three times a week, ensuring that Ben could focus his attention on what appeared to be his sole purpose in life.

Rather than being cross, Dan merely laughed when he heard that Ben had lost his job during the staff cutbacks. The guy’s entire body screamed laziness and when Ben spoke of his work, he did so with an air of entitlement that Dan knew would get up any manger’s nose.

“I was going to quit in 30lbs anyway,” Ben reasoned, hoping more than anything else that Dan wouldn’t say what he knew he would say next.

“Well, you’d better find yourself a little job until then, hadn’t you?”

Again, Ben pouted, trying to consider how best to handle the situation. They were off on vacation in a week’s time and, perhaps, if he worked hard enough, he could be close enough to the big number that Dan would feel compelled to let him off trying to find a new job. Despite his promises, he didn’t attempt to find anything else, focusing on his eating and diet instead. When on vacation, even Dan was delighted to see just how much Ben was gorging and feasting, aiming for that all important spike in his weight.

“Alright!” Dan nodded, rolling his eyes upon their return and seeing that Ben was now 495lbs the following morning. “You win!” he laughed. “You don’t need to find another job.”

Ben grinned from ear to ear. He already had so many fresh video ideas to celebrate his new weight, he knew that he could easily make up for his lost income in no time at all. He smirked, watching his gorgeous, hung boyfriend put on his suit and leave for his day at the office, knowing that he himself didn’t have to be anywhere at all. Instead, he looked around at the fancy apartment that they shared, gazing out at the incredible views across the city. Yes, this was certainly the life that he deserved. This was the existence that he had chased from the moment he went after Dan, even back when the guy was dating his friend, Luke; a choice none of his friends had ever forgiven him for. But what did that matter? Who was the winner now? None of them would ever live in a place like this and not have to go out and work. He’d played the game and won, throwing his heavy body down into his wide chair and sighing in satisfaction.