Sin título

The truck stop was nice and clean, though the clientele seemed a little rough around the edges. Most of the people there were large, hairy men with big beards, dirty trucker hats, and tattoos on exposed arms. Just outside the entrance, a sizable group of rowdy men were smoking cigars and laughing, and a few gave strange looks to the three 20 somethings in expensive athleisure and hiking gear. Victor saw one of the men smile and wink at him, which set him on edge. He calmed down as he reasoned that a group of rough manly guys like that wouldn't try any gay shit with him.

A older grizzled man in a leather vest at the counter took their information and payment for three showers. Patrick was first up in the cue, then Cameron, and finally Victor. They sat down at a small cafe to wait, and Patrick's name was soon called over the loudspeaker letting him know his shower was ready. Cameron was called a few minutes later, leaving Victor sitting by himself. Victor was just itching, both to get in the shower and from bug bites he received while camping. The hiking itself was strenuous but satisfying, as Victor was fit and strong from a regular gym routine. He just didn't enjoy being away from home for this long.

After scrolling a bit on his phone, he realized almost 30 minutes had gone by since Cameron's name was called. He knew from the queue board that there were five showers, but the names hadn't changed since his friends had left. With his name being the next and only name on the queue, he decided to go up to the man at the desk to figure out what was causing the wait.

"Excuse me? What's with the delay on the shower? I've been waiting for more than half an hour." Victor said in the voice he would use when the smoothie shop messed up his order.

"Listen son, these things take time, and we pride ourselves on our clean facilities so even the dirtiest traveler can get fresh for the road. Some of you lot leave a right mess in there, so we gotta clean up after each use. Just be patient, boy!"

The man, who's name tag just said 'Barry', was tall, but not quite as tall as Victor's 6'3". Despite this, Victor still felt talked down to by the old man's deep and commanding voice. He knew he should just wait, but out of habit, he decided to push the issue.

"Hey, I'm a paying customer. It's not right that I'm being made to wait. I deserve some kind of compensation for this. An upgrade or something."

Victor was ready for a fight, finding this kind of conflict almost fun, but he was disappointed when Barry only smiled at him in a condescending way before responding.

"Yeah, you're right. Let me make it up to you. We'll throw in some complimentary shampoo to go with the standard body wash and I'll have a warm meal waiting for you when you're done. How does that sound, 'sir'?" Barry said with mock deference.

Victor paused to make sure it wasn't a joke, before replying, "That seems fair, but I'll have to wait and see."

He knew something was off, but Victor decided to sit back down and wait. Soon, the shower Cameron had been in updated to say "Cleaning". After another 10 or so minutes, it changed to "Ready" as Barry called Victor's name over the speaker. Victor grabbing his bag and made his way down the hallway toward the showers, half expecting to see Cameron. It was still weird that neither of his friends had come out to see him.

Victor entered the small stall before the shower proper where a light chemical cleaner smell combined with a strange smokey scent. As he began to disrobe, Victor saw a rolled towel next to a little travel sized bottle of shampoo. It was in a sleek grey bottle labeled 'Bear Wash' and was scented as "Cabcub", whatever that meant. He brought it into the large shower and began the process of washing the filth from the past few days off of his skin and face.

The water felt so good, warm and comfortable. Victor got out the shampoo and lathered a bit into his palms before closing his eyes and rubbing it into his hair. There was almost a cooling feeling from the shampoo, causing his scalp and skin to tingle. As he rinsed the soap out of his hair, it continued to tingle as it washed down his body.

As Victor dispensed body wash from a device on the wall, the shower started to feel different. Adjusting the handle, he was sure it had been lower on the wall. The stall felt larger than when he first got in, and he had plenty of room below the shower head when a few minutes ago there was only a few inches of clearance. He brought his thumb to his chin as he wondered what was going on and discovered that the slight stubble on his face was somehow now a full beard that was an inch or longer and much more full than it had ever been before. What was happening?

Victor suddenly felt a gurgling in his stomach. He knew he was hungry, but this was something else. As he reached down towards his stomach, he found it swelling as the toned abs he worked hard for quickly dissolved. Stunned, he looked down and watched as fat piled all over his body and hair grow out in seconds to cover him. His previously long legs looked particularly stubby as he realized he had somehow lost well over a foot of height. Overwhelmed, he collapsed to the ground, unsure of what was happening to him. That's when he heard the door to the stall with his shower open.

"Yer probably just getting done, cub." The voice of Barry, the man working the counter, said as Victor froze on the ground, "Now about that warm meal I promised you."

Barry opened the shower stall door and looked down at Victor. He had already removed his shirt and was now removing the rest of his clothing. He seemed like a giant to Victor, as the thought of burying his head into the white, grey, and brown forest of hair on Barry's belly flashed through his mind. Victor felt his dick begin to harden a bit at the thought, and as he looked down at it, he found that his previously seven and a half inch dick was barely four inches now.

"What the fuck is happening?" Victor said, noticing his voice had gotten lower yet more feminine in tone. "What did you do to me?"

As Barry removed his pants, Victor felt his mouth water as the older man's cock was revealed. As the man got into the shower with Victor, he pressed his junk into the now much smaller man's face and the musky smell of it sent Victor's own stubby dick from half chub to full attention.

"I just thought if yer gonna act like a bitch, you might as well be one." Barry said as he reached down and grabbed the back of Victor's head and kepted him pressed right where he was. "Now, get to sucking, boy."

Horrified at being forced to suck another man's penis, he felt his wedding band and tried to remember his wife's face. Nothing came to his mind. He tried harder, but only Patrick and Cameron came to mind for some reason. With another smell of the musky dick pressed to his face, his mouth instinctually opened up as it was filled with truck stop cock. Victor began to moan as his head was fucked by the man in the shower with him, who thankfully turned off the water so he didn't drown. Victor felt used as Barry came into his mouth, and he greedily gulped down the salty fluid.

As the man helped Victor up into the shower, the young man realized just how much shorter he was now. Victor barely came up to Barry's chest as he looked up terrified yet ensorcelled by the large, hairy man. Turning back on the water, Barry held the new cub close, squeezing him against the shower wall as he cuddled the short, chubby bear. Victor melted in his arms, brain rewiring to desire being held, used, and loved by older bears, especially truckers looking for companionship on the road. Against any attempt to do otherwise, Victor would be helpless to reject the advances of a hot daddy that wanted to make him their boy for the night.

"There's a good bitch of a cab cub. I just know you're going to make your new trucker buddies Cam and Pat very happy." Barry said, stroking the cubs hair. "They're in the other stall right now, getting acquainted with each other. How about I take you to them now? I just know they'll love you, your greedy mouth, and that juicy ass of yours."

Weight gain - vidéo - short tf

weight gain - vidéo - short tf

video - weight gain - Arab Tf

Male tf - long tf - weight gain - food tf

It was just past 3 p.m. when Jonas stepped out of the gym, sweat still drying on his brow, earbuds dangling around his neck. His muscles ached in that satisfying, post-leg-day kind of way. He adjusted the strap on his duffel bag and started walking down the sidewalk, already thinking about the protein shake waiting in his fridge.

That’s when the man approached.

He was heavyset—obese, really—with his round belly pushing the limits of his bright orange uniform. The fabric stretched tight across his midsection, and his cheeks flushed from the heat or the effort—or both. A plastic name tag clipped to his chest read: “Toby – Product Rep”. He held a clipboard in one pudgy hand, the other raised in a friendly wave.

“Excuse me, sir! Do you have a moment to help test a new product line? Just a quick taste and review. Totally free. No strings.”

Jonas raised an eyebrow, still walking. “I’m good, man. Not really into sweets.”

“It’s for a new boutique brand—Daddy’s Donuts. All natural ingredients, chef-designed recipes. We’re offering early access to select individuals with a high-performance lifestyle. Like yourself.”

Jonas stopped. The flattery wasn’t lost on him, even if it was obvious. “You’re saying donuts are healthy now?”

The big man chuckled. “No, but balance is. We just need your opinion. Five minutes. Right inside. And hey, you look like someone who could use a cheat day.”

Jonas hesitated. He hadn’t had sugar in over two months. But… he had just crushed a two-hour session. Maybe one bite wouldn’t kill him.

“Alright,” he said. “Five minutes.”

The building was unmarked. Just a steel door set into crumbling brick. The man swiped a card and gestured him in.

The hallway inside smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and something else—warm, sweet, heavy. They walked in silence down a narrow corridor lit by buzzing fluorescent tubes. At the end, the fat man opened another door.

“In here. Just sit down and we’ll bring the sample.”

Jonas stepped into the room.

Bare walls, cold concrete floor. One metal table, one matching chair. A thin bed against the wall, hospital-style, with a gray sheet tucked tight. Mounted high in one corner, a speaker embedded into the ceiling. A faint red light blinked beside it.

On the table was a steel panel—almost like a hatch—with a circular indentation in the center. Sitting precisely on that spot was a single donut. It looked… perfect.

Glossy white glaze with a gentle shine. Steam rose from its soft surface as if it had just been baked. The smell hit him immediately—vanilla, yeast, warm sugar. His stomach growled.

A voice crackled to life from the ceiling.

“Please sit, Jonas.”

He turned toward the door, confused. The kid who brought him in was already gone. The door closed behind him with a heavy clunk.

“What the hell is this?”

“Sit down,” the voice repeated. It was male, neutral. Not threatening, but not friendly either.

Cautiously, Jonas sat.

“This is a product taste study,” the voice continued. “Please consume the donut and share your thoughts.”

He stared at it.

“Is there a form or something?”

“No. Just your opinion.”

Jonas reached out and picked it up. It was still warm, light in the hand. He took a bite.

A pause. His eyes widened.

“Oh, damn,” he said, through a mouthful. “That’s… that’s insane. Like, really good. Better than it

Jonas licked the glaze from his fingers, smirking to himself.

“Okay,” he said, looking up toward the speaker. “That was legitimately amazing. You guys are onto something.”

Silence.

He stood and walked toward the door. The handle wouldn’t turn.

He tried again, harder.

Click. Clack. Nothing.

He knocked.

“Hello? Door’s jammed.”

Still no answer.

Then the music began.

“Oh, yum yum yum, take a bite, Daddy’s Donuts feel just right! Sprinkle, chocolate, warm delight, Daddy’s Donuts, day and night!”

It was high-pitched, cheerful—childlike, almost—but looped with the precision of a jingle from some corporate hellscape. The kind that worms into your brain and stays there for weeks.

“What the hell is this?” he said, turning back toward the room.

On the steel hatch, a new donut appeared—identical to the first. Still steaming. Still perfect.

The voice from the ceiling returned, this time with a synthetic calm.

“Do you want another donut, Jonas?”

He blinked. “No. I’m good. I had one.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let me out.”

“Daddy’s Donuts, can’t be beat— Every donut’s joy complete…”

The song looped again. Louder.

Jonas covered his ears. “Stop! Okay, just—stop the music!”

It didn’t.

He paced. Banged on the door. Slammed his shoulder into it. No movement. No response. Just the song, cheerful and relentless.

“Yum yum yum, take a bite—”

His stomach grumbled.

“No. I don’t need it. I’m not a goddamn rat in a maze.”

He backed away from the table, sat on the edge of the bed. The room felt smaller. The donut was still there, gleaming, pulsing in the corner of his vision.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Thirty.

The song never stopped. It looped and looped and looped. Jonas’s hands were shaking. His breathing had quickened.

He looked at the donut again.

A voice inside whispered: Just take a bite. You’ll make it stop.

He stood. Stepped toward the table.

Picked it up. The heat of it soothed his fingertips.

He stared.

Then, with a snarl of frustration, he threw it at the wall.

It hit with a wet splat. Fell. Rolled.

And then—

Another donut appeared.

Perfect. Warm. Waiting.

The song restarted from the beginning.

Jonas screamed.

He tore at the bedsheet. Kicked the chair across the room. Pounded on the walls until his fists hurt.

He sat in the corner, breathing heavily, arms wrapped around his knees.

And the music played on.

Jonas didn’t know how long he sat in that corner. Time had stopped having meaning. The room never changed. No windows, no clocks. Just the donut, always reappearing. And the song.

“Daddy’s Donuts, day and night…”

He lasted as long as he could.

Then he gave in.

He stood—swaying on his feet—and dragged himself to the table. His hands trembled as he picked up the fresh donut. He didn’t even look at it this time. Just bit. Chewed. Swallowed.

The music stopped.

Again.

Relief flooded his chest. A pathetic, fragile silence.

He collapsed onto the bed, curling into the fetal position. His stomach ached. Not from hunger—quite the opposite.

It was a soft ache, a stretch. Like something pulling under the skin.

When Jonas next woke up, his back was sore. His hips felt strange. Tight in a way they hadn’t before.

He sat up slowly. The sheet slipped from his body. He looked down.

His abs were gone.

Where there had once been definition—tight lines, lean mass—there was now softness. A smooth swell at the base of his stomach. A small, chubby belly.

He ran his hands over it, stunned.

“What the f—”

His fingers moved lower. His hips had grown outward. Subtle love handles had begun to form, hugging the waistband of his stretched shorts. His thighs touched when he stood.

He staggered to the mirror in the corner, dragging the bed with a screech as he stepped.

It was him. But it wasn’t.

His face looked rounder. Puffier under the eyes. His beard had grown in patchy but thick enough to notice. The veins in his arms had softened. His delts looked smaller, drowned under new tissue. His pecs… drooped slightly.

He turned.

There—just above his love handles—was a small roll of fat. His back. His back had fat.

“No. No. No.”

He backed away. Turned to the table.

Another donut.

“Yum yum yum, take a bite…”

He screamed. Again.

He tried to fight it.

He did pushups. Sit-ups. Shadowboxed. But the room was too small. The mattress sagged under him. The metal bedframe groaned beneath his new weight.

No matter how long he resisted, the donut returned. The song played. Over and over.

Sleep deprived. Overfed. Swollen.

He gave in.

Another bite.

The sugar flooded his brain like dopamine. Instant. Artificial. Euphoric.

Days passed.

Jonas’s body followed the donut's logic: expand, soften, give in.

His modest belly rounded outward into a dome. His thighs ballooned and rubbed raw. His arms lost shape. His shoulders drooped.

He had developed a permanent sway in his walk—caused by the mass on his back side, which had exploded outward. From chubby to heavy to fat.

His neck thickened. A small roll formed at its base, blending into shoulders now padded with doughy softness. His groin had vanished beneath a spreading pillow of fat.

His moobs jiggled. His chest fat merged with his side fat.

His breathing was heavier. His skin, glossier.

And the worst part?

He started humming the song.

He didn’t mean to.

It just slipped out.

“Daddy’s Donuts, can’t be beat…”

Jonas didn’t remember how many donuts he’d eaten. He had stopped counting after the fiftieth. Or the hundredth.

At some point, numbers lost meaning.

He only remembered the cycle:

Hunger. Music. Donut. Silence. Guilt. Repeat.

Each bite brought temporary relief. Each silence felt like mercy. And then the hatch would click again.

Another donut.

Another round of that infernal jingle, always cheerful, always identical:

“Daddy’s Donuts, can’t be beat— Every donut’s joy complete!”

Jonas no longer screamed at it.

He just sat on the bed, belly spread across his lap, breathing heavily. The mattress dipped deeply under his weight now. His body ached constantly—his joints, his feet, his back, everything.

Even the air felt heavier.

The mirror had become his only company. A witness. A judge. A reminder.

Where there had once been a man—lean, hard, confident—stood a stranger. A mound of soft tissue, draped in sweat-stained fabric two sizes too small.

His neck had thickened into a trunk. His face looked doughy, his cheeks round and flushed, jaw lost beneath a second chin. Hair had sprouted thicker on his chest, arms, even his back. The beard had grown out, uneven and wild.

His shoulders were padded with softness, leading into moobs that swayed when he moved. His belly had turned from round to obscene—massive, overhanging, an underbelly that pressed over the waistband of what had once been gym shorts.

Now, they were just elastic prisons for thighs that touched, rubbed, and burned. His groin, buried in fat, was just… gone.

Even his hands had rounded. Fingers pudgy, swollen. His breath was labored after the simplest effort. His once powerful legs trembled under his own mass.

He laughed now. A strange, hollow sound.

“I get it,” he muttered to the empty room. “I’m the punchline.”

He reached for the donut.

Paused.

“I said I get it!”

He threw the donut against the wall. It didn’t even leave a mark.

Another one appeared seconds later. The music resumed.

“Yum yum yum, take a bite—”

Jonas covered his ears, eyes squeezed shut.

“No… no more, please… please just stop…”

He fell to his knees. His whole body jiggled with the movement. He tried to pray, but couldn’t remember any words.

So he crawled.

He reached the table.

He looked at the donut.

Then, defeated, with shaking fingers, he lifted it, and bit.

The music stopped.

He didn’t cry this time. He didn’t scream. He just chewed.

In the silence, a flicker of something strange passed through him. Familiar. Old.

Relief.

And that terrified him more than the song ever had.

It was sometime after the last donut—maybe the thousandth—when Jonas awoke to silence.

No jingle.

No mechanical click of the hatch.

No new donut.

He blinked, breath shallow. His limbs were heavy, his joints throbbing. Every movement sent ripples through his enormous, exhausted frame.

He sat up with effort, his massive belly rolling outward like a second body. His chest sagged, sweat pooling beneath his moobs. The mattress was indented deep, nearly to the frame.

Then—clack.

A sound he hadn’t heard in what felt like years.

The door.

It was... unlocked.

He stared at it, uncomprehending. For a moment, he thought it was a dream. A hallucination. But no—he heard the soft creak as it opened by a fraction, revealing the hallway beyond.

Freedom.

Jonas forced his feet to the floor, groaning as his legs adjusted to his new mass. He waddled—because that’s what it had become now, a slow, dragging waddle—toward the door.

He stepped into the hallway.

The walls were the same sterile gray. The floor, a dull vinyl. But it was open.

He kept walking, one swollen foot in front of the other.

At the end of the hallway, he reached a glass door.

Sunlight.

Actual sunlight.

And then—

“Daddy’s Donuts, can’t be beat…”

He froze.

The song wasn’t playing from a speaker.

It was coming from him.

He was humming it.

Softly. Unconsciously. Like breathing.

“No…”

He slapped his cheek.

“Stop.”

He gritted his teeth.

“STOP!”

But it was in him. Etched into his brain like a scar.

A door clicked open on his left.

The room was silent and bright.

He froze.

Mirrors.

Every wall. The floor. Even the ceiling.

He stood in the center of it—trapped in an endless, multidimensional view of himself.

He saw his body from every angle: the hanging gut, the arms lost in softness, the thick neck that no longer turned smoothly. He turned—slowly—and gasped when he saw his back.

His ass.

His buttocks had grown massive. Two heavy domes that strained his shorts to their absolute limit. They jiggled as he shifted his weight, rippling and swaying grotesquely in the glass. He hadn’t realized. Not really.

From the side. From below. From behind.

His entire backside had exploded.

Jonas stumbled backward, almost falling under the sudden visual weight of himself, of what he had become.

And then—

A voice echoed, deep and smooth, almost amused.

“Would you like another donut?”

He opened his mouth to speak.

To scream “No.”

But what came out instead was…

“Oh, yum yum yum, take a bite, Daddy’s Donuts feel just right…”

His eyes widened in terror. He grabbed his mouth, but the next line spilled out anyway.

“Sprinkle, chocolate, warm delight—”

He sobbed, but the tune carried on, involuntarily.

In every reflection, his lips moved perfectly in sync.

“Daddy’s Donuts, day and night…”

Jonas stood frozen in the mirror room, breathing heavily. Every inch of him reflected back in grotesque repetition. He felt like a balloon filled with wet cement—immense, soft, and immobile.

Then, with a smooth hiss, another door slid open behind him.

Footsteps entered—measured, confident.

A man stepped through.

Tall. Fit. Bald head gleaming under the artificial lights. He wore a crisp orange suit with “Daddy’s Donuts” embroidered in white over the chest. Everything about him was immaculate—his smile, his posture, the scent of artificial citrus that followed him.

He paused. Took in the room. Took in Jonas.

Then smiled.

“Oh,” he said, his voice silky. “Yes. Yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

Jonas turned awkwardly, his reflection wobbling all around them.

“What… what is this?” he asked, voice weak, breath catching in his throat.

The man didn’t answer right away. He walked in a slow circle around Jonas, hands behind his back, humming softly.

“You’re exactly what we’ve been needing. A real ambassador. Someone who embodies the product.”

He stopped behind Jonas.

“Look at this,” he said, almost to himself. “These curves. The roundness. That posterior. That’s branding.”

Jonas flinched. His face flushed with shame.

The man reappeared at his side, holding a large orange bundle. He presented it like it was sacred.

“Your uniform.”

Jonas stared. The fabric was massive. Stretchy. The sleeves short and the torso wide and boxy. A white donut logo was printed right over the heart. The pants were equally voluminous, designed to cling and emphasize.

His lips parted in disbelief.

The recruiter smiled wider, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Go on. You’ll look wonderful. Just like the others.”

“The… others?” Jonas whispered.

The man nodded slowly. “You’ll meet them soon.”

Jonas didn’t move.

The man’s voice dropped an octave.

“Put it on.”

Jonas’s hands shook as he took the fabric.

He could feel the weight of every reflection watching him.

He knew the moment he wore it, something would change forever.

But he was already too far in.

Jonas stood in the mirror room, the orange uniform now clinging to every curve of his altered body.

The shirt was snug across his chest, the fabric stretching over his belly like a tarp pulled tight. The sleeves gripped the tops of his arms, pressing into the soft flesh. The pants rode high and tight, emphasizing the massive curve of his buttocks. Every mirror reinforced it—he looked like walking product packaging.

The man in the orange suit clapped once, delighted.

“Perfect! Just perfect. That fit, those proportions—Jonas, you are radiating brand presence.”

Jonas didn’t respond. He stared at himself. The reflection no longer startled him—it numbed him. His face was blank. Hollow. Lips parted slightly. His shoulders slumped forward, defeated.

The man stepped closer.

“These clothes were designed for your body type. You don’t hide it—you lead with it. That belly? That’s comfort. Those moobs? Approachability. That backside?” He whistled softly. “Confidence.”

Still, Jonas didn’t speak.

The man tilted his head. “Why so quiet, Jonas?”

Jonas just looked at him. His eyes, watery. His lips, flat.

The recruiter tutted softly and placed a gentle hand on Jonas’s shoulder.

“You know… sometimes a smile just needs a little help.”

He began to hum.

Softly at first. Then louder.

“Oh, yum yum yum, take a bite, Daddy’s Donuts feel just right…”

Jonas blinked.

His breath hitched.

“Sprinkle, chocolate, warm delight…”

It slid back into his mind like a returning wave. And before he could stop it, he was humming too. The melody leaked from his lips like air escaping a balloon.

And then—

He smiled.

It was stiff at first. Forced. But the moment his lips curled upward—

The music stopped.

Inside his head.

The hum was gone.

Only silence remained.

The recruiter’s grin stretched ear to ear.

“There we go,” he whispered.

He stepped forward and gently took Jonas’s face in both hands, thumbs on his soft cheeks.

Jonas stood there, locked in place, grinning mechanically. Silent.

“There. Look at you. That smile… That’s the one. Now you can represent Daddy’s Donuts.”

Jonas stared back, eyes glossy, mouth frozen in a grin. “You are exactly what Daddy’s Donuts needs. Soft, sweet, and approachable. A walking invitation to indulgence.”

He leaned in slightly, whispering just above a hum. “You’ve never looked more like yourself.”

Jonas didn’t respond.

He didn’t need to.

The grin said everything.

And the mirrors… the mirrors agreed.

The mirrors watched.

The room approved.

The mirrors opened like doors.

And through them, Jonas walked.

He emerged into daylight.

Not the same street he remembered—this one was... cleaner. Too clean. The sky a little too blue. The buildings, oddly identical. The people, if any were there, never looked up.

But Jonas didn’t notice.

He stepped outside in his tight orange polo and matching pants. His face bore the practiced grin. His belly bounced slightly with every step, his arms swinging just enough to look natural—but never free.

He took a position near the sidewalk, beside a sleek, black door in a red-bricked wall. The door had no sign.

Jonas adjusted his shirt.

Then he saw him.

A man—muscular, lean, with gym shorts and earbuds—walking past.

Jonas smiled wider.

He stepped forward, just like he’d been taught. “Excuse me, sir! Do you have a moment to help test a new product line? Just a quick taste and review. Totally free. No strings.”

The man slowed.

Pulled out one earbud. “Uh… free?” he asked.

Jonas nodded, eyes shining, voice syrupy sweet. “Just five minutes. Right inside. Come on, you look like someone who deserves a treat.”

The man hesitated.

And then, he nodded.

Jonas opened the door.

It closed behind them with a click.

Jonas led the man down the narrow hallway without a word, his heavy footsteps echoing softly on the concrete floor. The muscular stranger followed, slightly cautious but curious. Jonas could feel the man’s eyes occasionally drift toward him—toward the bright uniform stretched across his broad back, the way his belly pushed forward as if always arriving first.

He smiled.

As they neared the tasting room door, Jonas glanced sideways, studying his guest. The defined jawline. The tight shirt hugging a chiseled chest. The barely-there body fat.

In his mind, he painted the transformation.

He imagined that chest softening into gentle moobs, arms losing tone, thighs thickening, rubbing. A soft dome of a belly pushing outward—just like his own. Stretch marks forming like delicate veins. The slight shame at first. The hunger that would follow. The need.

Yes. He’d be perfect.

Jonas opened the door.

“Just in here,” he said, tone pleasant, almost musical.

The man stepped inside, the door closing gently behind him with that familiar, weighted click.

Jonas stood there for a moment, hand still on the handle, head tilted.

Silence.

Then—

“Oh, yum yum yum, take a bite…”

The song started.

Jonas closed his eyes.

And smiled.

He turned, belly swaying with the motion, and walked slowly back down the hallway. His steps were lighter now. There was no rush. There would always be another.

As he reached the exit, he began to hum.

Softly. Joyfully.

CW: force feeding, drug use, forced weight gain, mind manipulation

Day 1

I wake up, my head pounding. I don't remember much from last night, except the first couple of drinks and that cute guy who was definitely hitting on me. I squint, trying to adjust my eyes to the unfamiliar room I find myself in. I'm laying on a large bed. The room is definitely a basement, there is only one tiny window by the ceiling, and it has bars in it. I'm quite thin, but even I wouldn't be able to squeeze through it.

I try to lift my arm, but I feel a tug on my wrist. I turn painfully, only to see my hand cuffed to the bedframe.

I start to panic.

I hear a creak. The door opens, and no other than the cute boy from the previous night walks in. He's carrying a tray full of food.

"Oh good, you're awake," he says. "Now, don't panic."

"What do you want from me??" I spit out. "I don't have any money!"

I'm so scared. Is he going to hurt me?

"Calm down," he says, and his voice is very level and mellow. "Whatever nightmare scenario you're imagining, I'm not going to do it to you. I did find you rather hot at the party. But you could be much, much hotter."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Now now, no talking back, please. If you follow my rules, your life in here will soon become very easy and enjoyable. No responsibilities, no worries." He sets the tray on the bedside. I catch a whiff of delicious scent: burgers, fries, donuts. "Rule number one: you eat all the food I give you. You can take however long you want with it, but you have to finish. If you refuse, I will shove it down your throat anyway."

My mouth hangs open. What kind of sick game is this?

"Rule number two," he continues. "If you need to go to the bathroom, you ring the bell." He points to the bedside table. "I will escort you there and wait until you're done. Otherwise, you are not allowed to move from your bed, hence the handcuffs. Sorry about that. I am hoping they will stop being necessary soon, but for now I'm keeping them."

"And finally, you're allowed to watch TV in case you get bored. There are no real channels on here, just a couple of shows of my choosing. And a bunch of commercials." He pauses for a bit. "Any questions?"

I exhale, still in shock. "Is that the plan?" I ask, not liking how shriek-y my voice sounds. "Keep me here and feed me? How long? Why?"

"Why?" He smirks. "Oh, for my sick pleasure, of course. And as to how long - well, until you're presentable. I will decide when that happens. Now, get on with eating."

Day Two

"I... I can't..."

I groan, clutching at my distented stomach. My captor's "meal plan" is truly insane: 9 am, heavy breakfast, with pancakes oozing with syrup and several strips of bacon on top; 10 am, second breakfast, a bunch of donuts; 12 pm, lunch, burgers; 2 pm, snacks; 4 pm, dinner, an xl pizza; 6 pm, supper, a lasagna; 8pm, snacks; 10 pm, more snacks; 12am, a cup of heavy cream. As for other drinks, I am allowed full fat Coke or Sprite. There is no water.

It's 8 pm now. I feel like I'm going to throw up. He pushes Oreos into my mouth and then covers both my mouth and my nose, so that I'm forced to swallow. I can't speak, I'm scared of opening my mouth so that more food might be shoved inside. He sees that my capacity is at its limit, that I can't take anymore. He shows me a small pill bottle.

"You will start taking these."

I look at the bottle. It's mood stabilizers. "What the fuck?"

"For one, it will stop you from talking nasty like that. But most importantly, it will enhance your appetite."

I try to wriggle away as he uncorks the bottle and presses a pill to my mouth - but I am still tied to the bed.

I swallow, like I swallowed everything else.

"Good. Now, the real work can begin."

Day Four

I blink drowsily. There is still anger and resistence inside me, but buried deeper, under a layer of forced calm. My feedings are no longer unbearable, but they still leave me painfully full. Even if I could, I wouldn't really want to get out of bed. Even going to a bathroom with a distented belly is really a pain in the ass.

I lay on my back, watching TV. All the shows he put there are about food. Cooking and tasting, discovering new dishes. He says he can get me some of them if I develop a craving. With my appetite growing larger by the day, it feels more and more likely.

Week Two

I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My jaw is losing definition. My cheeks look puffy. I put a hand on my belly. It's early morning and I haven't eaten yet, so it's not tight as a drum for once. Instead, it feels gelatinous, curving slightly under my hand.

My reflection looks back at me with a dull gaze. I am slowly forgetting how to be angry.

Month Two

My body is soft all over, and I feel a strange sense of calm. I now wake up hungry every day.

Month Four

I learn to recognize my face anew. It feels like it belongs to a different person. No cheekbones left, instead, chipmunk cheeks that force my mounth into a pout. My eyes are squinting, dull. A double chin frames my face like a small crescent moon. I look older. I look fat.

I try smiling at my reflection. Pushing my cheeks apart starts to be a lot of work.

"Fatty," I whisper to my reflection. That's what he calls me. "Tubby. Lardass. Pig."

My breath quickens. The names slowly start ringing true. My fat face reddens as I huff and puff.

Lardass is ready for some food.

Month Six

I wake up, my belly growling. It's 8:45 am. I'm impatient for my breakfast. Slowly, I heave myself up to a sitting position. It's becoming harder by the day. My belly quivers and jiggles like a water bed. My back and side rolls spill all around me, forcing my hands at an angle. He said I don't need handcuffs anymore. It's not like I'm very eager to get out of bed, anyway.

I huff, adjusting my covers. My fingers are getting clumsy, hands dimpled and digits swallowed by fat. My thighs splay on the bed, forced apart but still touching. My belly, which can no longer rest between them, spills over and around. I absent-mindedly scratch the fold of my double chin, my upper arm roll jiggling as I do.

He enters the room, but this time, he doesn't carry a tray of food. Instead, he lays out enormous pieces of clothing on the bed. I have long forsaken my old clothes, instead sitting around naked.

"Put these on, fatso," he instructs. "You're free to go."

"W-what?" I stammer. My stomach gurgles harder.

"You heard me. You're free. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Is it? I feel panic rising in my chest. How will I even be able to waddle to the door? I can barely use the bathroom these days, and he has to assist me. I am trying to imagine navigating my fat ass through my old world. Taking a buss. Fitting in chairs. Seeing my old friends and family try to adjust to my new size...

"No!" The cry is out of my throat before I know it. "Please, no! I just want to eat!"

He smiles devilishly wide. "Don't you want freedom?"

"No, I..." I stammer. My cheeks wobble. Even my voice sounds muffled now - sounds fat.

I shiver and blush as I say the next words. "I only want food."

"Is that so?"

"Y-yes." I pause. "P-please?"

You pat my fat cheek. "Well, if you say so... Breakfast's in ten, fatty."

Return to part 1

The finale...

What happens to this skinny music student?

Jack hated Easter with a passion! It was such a dumb holiday, he couldn’t understand why people would celebrate a dumb bunny bringing dumb chocolate eggs to dumb kids. The whole idea was DUMB! Luckily, this year his family had gone to visit his grandparents the day before Easter leaving him home alone until Easter Sunday. He was a uni student and didn’t have time to care about pointless holidays. He was studying Sports and Exercise Science, he was going to be a personal trainer and he was in the best shape of his life! So why would he like a holiday where people are chocolate like dumb pigs. Even better his annoying younger brother would be gone, he still believed in the Easter bunny and Jack would mock him for it. “He’s not real you know! And how the hell could a bunny lay a chocolate egg?” He would always give his little brother a tough time every year. And he knew it would be the same this Easter as Jack would be told off for upsetting his brother again. Sure he was a kid but he needed to grow up some time. Jack was a strong, attractive and intelligent man. If he wanted his brother to grow up like him, he had to get rid of those stupid ideas of bunnies and chocolate. However, Jack’s attitude towards Easter certainly didn’t go unnoticed...

As Jack got ready for a night of playing Xbox in the lounge and chilling, he saw a slip of paper slide next to his feet from under the couch. Hesitantly, he reached down and plucked up the piece of paper, seeing it was in fact a letter! The handwriting was smudged and hard to read. Clearly the person who wrote it wasn’t used to writing. Chocolate was smudged across the corners and made it sticky in Jack’s hands. He read...

“Dear Jack, it would seem you have an issue with the Easter holiday, but you must learn you can’t always get your own way! You ridicule your brother and try to taint his day, so Jacky boy now it’s time you pay. You like to say my ways are dumb, for that a sweet chocolatey fate you will succumb.”

What on earth was this? Is this some dumb prank by his little brother? The letter was signed with a chocolaty law print as well. This was ridiculous. As Jack screwed up the letter he heard a rustling beside him. He turned and saw no movement. Only a carefully placed, bite sized Easter egg. It was no bigger than a normal chicken’s egg but had tag hanging off it. “Eat me, I’m a dumb Easter egg” it said in scruffy writing. This was just getting stupid, and for one of his brother’s pranks this was pretty extravagant. To humour him, Jack picked up the egg and gave it a small bite. The chocolate was smooth and milky. It melted on his tongue and coated his taste buds. It was the best chocolate he’d ever tasted. It was melting in his hands when without second thought he devoured the rest and licked the remaining chocolate off his fingers. Man that was amazing, he wanted more.

Jack heard more scurrying behind him and turned around. That’s when he saw something he thought would be impossible. There, right in front of him was a bunny. Not just any bunny, the Easter bunny. It stood on two legs and it’s fur was Snow White. It looked almost like a cartoon as it had a smirk on its face and it’s arms were crossed. Jack almost fell off his chair he was in so much shock. “So Jacky boy, do you still think believing in the Easter bunny is dumb?” Jack was speechless. He got up and tried to sprint for the front door but the bunny was quicker, hopping in front of him and blocking his exit. Before Jack had time to think the bunny put it’s arm out in front of him and opened its paw, revealing another chocolate egg. “Come on, I know you want it.” It was true, Jack craved that smooth chocolaty taste again and reached out and took it. He began scoffing the egg like a pig, enjoying every bite as it melted in his mouth. He failed to notice his name was engraved in white chocolate letters. “Be careful, too much chocolate isn’t good for a growing lad like you.” Said the bunny. What? What did that mean? Jack was confused, two small chocolate eggs weren’t going to do anything. Then it hit him. Jack’s belly started to gurgle and churn. It felt like he was bloated. He still had chocolate covering his mouth and fingers from where he’d eaten the chocolate so quickly. This feeling of bloating soon got worse and Jack had to clench his stomach and bend over. What was happening to him? And why could he smell chocolate again? And taste it too?

The pain in Jack’s stomach started to get so sever he stumbled towards the wall, placing one chocolate covered hand against it leaving a smudgy hand print as the other cradled his stomach. He felt dizzy and slumped against the wall, he slid down it and landed in his butt. If he could look up from his now very bloated belly he would have seen the bunny smiling. It then began waking closer to Jack now that it was head height with him. “See, I’ve had enough of you mocking me, and with a growing population it’s hard to keep up with the demand for Easter eggs. I can’t make all of them myself! So when I find naughty boys like you, I like to bring you on board to help. As part of my, what should we call it? Ahh, production staff!” This made Jack look up, his eyes were watering as he was in so much discomfort. His face still had chocolate smeared around his mouth and chin. Then with a great force, he felt as his belly surged forward. It was growing! Where he had shredded abs a few minutes ago he now sported a small gut. He touched it with his hand and it was hard like he’d eaten until he was stuffed. It was pulsing from being rock hard like he was full then softer like he’d digested it. Each time his belly grew a little bigger. It looked like he was hiding a bowl under his top, that’s when the bunny moved closer. With one paw it lifted his shirt over his gut. As it did, Jack’s growing belly surged forward again and now rested in his lap. There was no way his shirt would cover it anymore! As it surged again, the button on his trousers popped off. This was bad. Hair was now growing on his once hairless stomach, it looked thick and dark, and solid? The bunny placed a paw on his tummy and snapped off one of the hairs and brought it to Jack’s nose. It was chocolate! The chocolate hair was then jammed into Jack’s gaping maw and he started to eat it. It was so nice as it melted off his tongue. “Yeah... that’s a side effect of the egg, your body hair is chocolate now so we’ll have to pluck them off when they’re ready. We’ll melt them down and use them for other chocolates or just as chocolate straw in Easter baskets.” The bunny stated nonchalantly. Jack was in shock. He had a belly he didn’t have a few moments ago and now had chocolate body hair! What the fuck was next?!

Jack looked down at his ball belly as he felt different parts of his body start to swell with pudge. His arms grew soft with heavy fat. His pecs filled out until they looked like supple tits resting on his enormous gut. His chocolate covered chin bubbled as a double chin dropped down giving his face a rounder looks as his cheeks puffed out. Jack raised his arms and noticed where he should have smelt a light BO wafting from his armpits, all he could smell was chocolate! The bunny sat on Jacks bloated growing belly like a cushion and looked him in the eyes. His stomach was now rumbling worse than ever, it felt like he was having contractions. Still smiling, the rabbit started cupping Jack’s moobs. They were sensitive and sore. They felt swollen. They felt... full! Out of thin air, the rabbit pulled out a glass cup and with the other hand grabbed Jack’s tit. He squeezed gently and a pressure felt like it was building up and then released. Jack watched with concerned eyes. A thick brown liquid was pouring out his sensitive nipple and into the glass. It felt so good, it was almost as good as getting head! Jack moaned as the glass became more and more full. Once the liquid was overflowing from the rim, the rib it stopped but Jack wished he’d continued. The bunny raised the glass to Jack’s fat face and told him to open wide. It forced Jack to drink the liquid from his own gut. It spilled down his chins and down his belly. It tasted incredible! Like a thick chocolate fudge brownie milkshake.

Jack’s belly had stopped expanding and fat had stopped filling onto his frame. “Thank god it must be over!” Jack said with a relieved sigh. “Over? Don’t be silly! We still have a few more changes. This will be your new life after all, I have to make it perfect!” The bunny said with a sinister grin. The rabbit started stripping Jack of all his clothes, ripping it off with it’s teeth until Jack was left in his underwear. Nervously, Jack placed a hand oh his gurgling gut and expected the worst...

That’s when he felt it. There was something, or somethings, in his belly. They felt hard but were moving around. That’s when Jack felt something starting to push from his tight anus. He didn’t want to imagine but he knew exactly what was about to happen. As it started crowing out of his hole, Jack clenched and rocked uncomfortably. With each second it felt like what was coming out was getting bigger and bigger. To make sure he didn’t damage it, the bunny walked up to Jack and rolled him onto his side. With more room, the foreign object had more room and was pushing out faster. Jack winced with pain until he heard a loud pop, followed but a sad sounding fart. Where he expected to smell a typical protein fart he was instead treated to the fresh smell of chocolate. It was intoxicating. The bunny reached into the back of Jack’s underwear and removed the large foreign object, holding it up to Jack’s face. How could that have come out of him? How did he push out an Easter egg?! It was the size of his head and had an intricate design, saying happy Easter in white chocolate letters.

Jack was going to be sick. Was this permanent? Was he going to keep shitting out Easter eggs! “That’s definitely a good start for a beginner boy! You’ll be doing bigger and better though.” Jack started begging the bunny to change him back. He felt sore and still bloated. He shook his gut feeling more eggs churning and growing, sure to be on the way any minute. Jack wished he’d never called the Easter bunny dumb or mocked his little brother. Then without warning the tabbing reached a paw into the front of Jack’s and started rummaging around. It was weird, Jack should have been able to feel this but he couldn’t. Jack tried to look but he couldn’t see anything below his chocolate egg making gut. Finally the bunny found what it was looking for and with a loud snapping noise pulled out a carrot. A carrot?! “Oh did I forget to mention? I can’t have my production staff getting distracted. You’re going to be so busy you don’t have time to play with such a useless piece of meat between those legs. Your just a fine chocolate egg layer now. Plus, I’m a rabbit! So this is a nice way to deal with that pesky pecker!” And with that, the rabbit took a quick hard bite off the end of the carrot. Within moments it was completely devoured. “Oh I almost forgot” said the bunny as it reached into Jack’s underwear once more. This time it pulled out a bag of chocolate coins. “Can’t forget those too!” It said ripping open the bag and taking the golden foil off the chocolate coin. Those were, no way! Those were Jack’s balls! And before he could protest the bunny started shoving the coins into Jack’s mouth. That sweet chocolaty taste hit his tongue again and he was in heaven! “Now you’re going to have all the chocolate you want Jacky boy. It’s all you can stomach, literally! You need it to form the chocolate eggs.” The bunny helped Jack to his feet and started leading him to the front door. As Jack walked his blubber jiggled and his belly bounced. Now it was deflated a bit, from the egg relieving pressure, it looked more blubbery and soft. Although his tits still felt so full! Jack now had to walk with a waddle as if he moved too quick his heavy swaying fat would throw him off balance.

“Remind me boy, what’s the name of your little brother?” The bunny stopped just before the door, turning to Jack with a wicked grin. “It’s Ollie.” Jack said worried for what was about to happen. “And does Ollie have a lot of friends?” The bunny asked now walking up towards Jack. “Umm, yeah he does, they normally have a party with an Easter egg hunt here, all of his friends come over, it’s dumb... I mean fun!” Jack smiled anxiously hoping the bunny didn’t pick up on his carelessness with his words. But it had, and this was going to make it all the better for the bunny! That’s when the gurgling started again as Jacks soft fat belly quickly expended and got hard and bloated again. Oh no!

In the early hours of the morning, Ollie and his parents returned to the house. Jack wasn’t to be seen anywhere and they assumed he was probably seeing friends. He hated Easter anyway and it was better he was out of the house, he always tried to ruin it for Ollie. His parents started decorating the house for the party and told Ollie to go get changed. But before Ollie could enter his room he saw a small note stuck to his bedroom door. The writing was smudged and had chocolate dried onto bit of the paper. He picked it off the door and read.

“Dear Ollie, your brother used to hate Easter with a passion and mocked you straight, now your brother Jack has learnt his actions carry a new chocolateyweight. He’ll work year round with me making chocolate eggs, that should bring him down a few pegs. To show he’s sorry he’s stocked your house for the party, enjoy Easter Ollie and unlike Jack, don’t be naughty!”

Ollie didn’t know it yet but there were hundred of eggs of different sizes hidden around the garden and house for the hunt. The fridge was stocked with fresh chocolate fudge brownie milkshakes in several huge bottles. Chocolate hairs had been sprinkled over tables and placed in Easter baskets. Easter eggs with cute designs were placed in every room like ornaments. And as Ollie entered his room, there was a huge basket of Easter eggs with his name and the names of all his friends on them. There was even an Easter egg for Jack, which was sad as he wouldn’t be able to have it. Oh well, it just meant more for Ollie! This was truly going to be the best Easter ever! The chocolate that Easter was the best he had ever had! Ollie would always be treated to the best Easter eggs every year from now on, and his parents never knew where they’d come from. But poor Jack had a new job as the Easter bunny’s top producer. From now on, Jack’s chocolate eggs could be found in every house, every Easter!

Tommy was just waiting for the bus to come by when an old man walked passed him checking him out. Being a young gay man he always liked it when men checked him and this was even better. The man checking his out was a daddy of a man. Handlebar mustache abs a bearish figure to boot. Tommy was instantly drawn to the man. The bear came over to Tommy and introduced himself. And after w quick introduction asked him out on a date and Tommy was more than happy to oblige. Once the date was set the man walked away just in time for the bus to pull up.

Date night arrived and Tommy was waiting for the man to show up. When he heard the door bell ring he answered it and was surprised that the man showed up with bags of food and wine. “I thought I could cook for you tonight and we can watch a movie !” Tommy wasn’t expecting a home cooked meal on his firs date with the man but he couldn’t turn it down. He was already soo interested in the man he didn’t want to offend him. The older man set to it making dinner in the kitchen while Tommy sat back on a bar stool and just watched the man. He had already unbutton his shit which the excise “it’s gets got bring a big guy”. But Tommy didn’t care.

Tommy lost count of the amount of glasses of wine he had. He noticed that his words were slurring when speaking to the man and asked why kind of wine it was. The man laughed. “Oh thats bear wine. More line meads. Makes a bear out of ya!” And the man laughed. Eagle outing another glass for Tommy abs holding it to his mouth with a smiling face and saying “drink”. Tommy managed to drink the whole bottle and then felt bad because there was none left. He felt a little strange and excused himself to the bathroom.

Starting at himself in the mirror he noticed something strange. Was that facial hair growing? He got closed and was shocked as he seen his beard was growing. He could actually see the individual hairs pulling out of us skin. He was shocked. He didn’t know what was going on.

His date knocked on the door. And Tommy in his drunken stupor opened the door panicked. The man just smiled T him and said his bear Meade was working. Tommy began to stutter. He wanted to know what was happening but the bearish man pulled him in for a deep kiss. All the while he could feel the bearish man leaving tobacco flavored saliva in his mouth. When he pulled back he was greeted with another glass of bear Meade shah the man forced him to drink. “I like bears. And youre going to make one hell of a bear!!” When the cup was emptied Tommy could feel his cheeks filling out. He felt like he Was swelling. His beard got longer and then when he looked In the mirror he seen that he had gained a serious amount of weight. And his mouth now tasted of tobacco. A taste he would soon be all too familiar with. “Please I don’t want this ! Make it stop!!”

The older man just laughed at him. “Tommy it’s too late for that. Can’t you feel it. You’re inside are expanding. You’re growing to be a bear. The bear that I always wanted to be my lover. See?” And he patted Tommy’s gut which he now noticed was starting to expand outwards.

It wasn’t long before Tommy’s shirt was removed. He could see his skin was aging and he was getting older. Hair confined to grow not only on his face but across his body. His gut stopped growing what it creates an noticeable ball gut that would show through all of his clothing. He didn’t even realize that the hair on his face because aged and white. The man came up to him and patted his belly as the hair follicles continued to grow in. Making him one hairy bear of a man. And with another forceful kiss. Kissed Tommy to hard that memories of his old life faded and his new life was reconstructed. Tom. Construction working daddy bear. Loved by his husband who encouraged him to be a bear ever since day one. Always feeding him to help him gain. To keep his weight strong. Toms toes curled on the bathmat as they widened as green hair as well. His feet growing larger to accommodate his huskier frame. While his Race changed making him Hispanic. He grew shorter. Hair on his head turning grew. When it was all done Tommy was gone and was replaced daddy Tom.

Colby and his client, Ty, looked down at the numbers on the scale Ty was standing on. Three hundred fifty pounds. In just three months, Ty had gained one hundred fifty pounds in muscle and chub, taking his build from muscled dad bod to overgrown lineman. He never thought he would get this big but his personal trainer Colby knew he’d turn out like this all along, after all he enabled it. It was instinct to him to give guys what they wanted. Colby charged premium rates but promised 100% satisfaction, from turning obese guys into body builders and out of shape frat guys into toned jocks. His favorite guys to coach are those who want to bulk up and gain weight, it was fun to watch his clients plump up at his direction. Usually guys wanted to put on more muscle than fat, but Colby always convinced them to swing the other way. When Ty walked into the door, he could tell the guy wanted to get huge. It’s in the way they walk into rooms, leading with their gut and moving their arms in stride. The biggest tell is a belly scratch, guys who weren’t afraid to show some gut and knew they had it always turned out the largest.

The day of the Colby met Ty, his potential client wore an ill-fitting shirt that left his treasure trail exposed. It was clear he needed to wear at least a large but Ty didn’t seem to care as he walked in with confidence. Colby saw him scratch his gut twice before he even asked a question; it was clear to him where this was headed. The two discussed for a while until Colby knew what he needed and walked him out while talking about the next session at a gym nearby. From the interview, Colby could tell Ty would be an interesting client. He had played baseball in college but fell out of it during senior year, putting on weight ever since. He said he was fine with the weight and didn’t mind it, thought people couldn’t notice. Ty mostly wanted to make his arms and chest larger but knew he needed to train his legs as well, dislike most cardio as well. When it came to his eating habits, Colby knew he could grow Ty to be massive when he heard about the pizza and fast food the guy was eating. It seemed like Ty was just one push in the right direction to becoming one his largest clients ever.

The first session, Colby just wanted to gauge where Ty was at with his fitness. As expected he was still fairly strong but had lost some of the proper form and technique. Ty also had less stamina, having to take longer breaks later in the session than usual for guys his age. However, Colby noted his client followed instructions to the letter and seemed rather self-disciplined. At the end of the session Ty told Colby he mostly was looking for a workout diet plan and could be interested in a few in person sessions but couldn’t afford more. From what the trainer had seen, he figured it would still be worthwhile. Once Ty was gone, Colby wrote out a proposed three month plan. He had a detailed workout plan ready but also a food schedule. Each morning, Ty was to have six eggs and a protein shake Colby would supply. He would then go to the gym and do his first workout before work. During work he needed to eat at least 1500 calories in snacks and lunch. When he got home, he would have another protein shake and head to the gym again for his second workout then come home to eat at least 1500 calories for dinner and never to skip dessert. In total, that should be about 5500 calories. On weekends he was expected to double meal sizes and do two times as long workouts. In addition, the pair would meet every two weeks for a total of six in person sessions so Colby could be sure to tweak the workout or diet plans.

Two weeks later, Ty returned for his second session with Colby. The shirt he was wearing now barely covered his belly button and his meaty pecs had begun to push out of it. He looked much stronger, his whole body filled out and his stomach beefy enough to support his gains. At the weights he was breaking every number from before. But it was only about 14 pounds. Colby knew guys with potential always start off slow, though. He did figure it might be time to up his calorie surplus, that would hurry good results along. Colby edited the meal plan to now have include a shake during lunch and two dinners every day, one close to bed to help pack on the pounds overnight. That would put him at 7800 calories a day. Ty kept to the schedule, working out and eating big each day. He claimed the shakes were delicious and could feel them making him bigger every time he had one; they especially made him hungrier from the appetite enhancer Colby added. By the third session Ty was up to 240 pounds, forty pounds heavier in 4 weeks. Ty had completely outgrown his wardrobe and had bought new clothes, but they were starting to become snug as well. His arms and chest had exploded with muscle and his thighs were looking strong but Ty had kept his distinctly pudgy look even with the muscle. His belly and butt had gotten the chunkiest. Every time Colby saw the guy his shirt didn’t cover his whole gut and his ass cheeks threatened to explode out of his shorts. Colby was happy with the progress, but when Ty asked how to grow even faster, Colby knew it was time to step up the progress. He asked Ty to double up on shakes and up his meal calories to 2000. That put him around 11,700 calories a day. In addition he was to workout three times a day and almost all day on weekends.

By the fourth session, Ty had ballooned outwards putting his weight at 280 after gaining 40 pounds in two weeks. This session, Colby saw the most amount change to Ty as he had filled out completely. He no longer had and definition to his muscle, it was all covered by a layer of chub but he looked strong. He had the beginnings to a power lifter build with a much bigger belly from all the food he was eating. To match his upper body, Ty’s midsection and ass had grown soft and round. His ball gut was only half covered by his XL shirt and his shorts had split down the middle during a squat. To Colby’s surprise, he was wearing a jock strap and the two mountains fat which spread apart revealed his pink hole made his dick perk right up. Ty continued to workout as if he hadn’t noticed, leaving his trainer in a hot mess. But Colby knew Ty wasn’t ready yet. At the end of the session Colby provided a new case of shakes, double the calories of the last ones. He instructed Ty to drink these instead and to now eat two lunches. 19,500 calories a day was a tall order but Colby knew his client would be up to the task. At this point Ty was either eating, working out, or sleeping. His voracious appetite had him snacking and munching constantly during work and after his long nightly workouts he sat on the couch and feasted all night.

By the fifth session, he had become completely unrecognizable. Now at 355 pounds, Ty had gained 75 pounds in two weeks alone. It was clear most of the weight was fat as Ty had now gone past power lifter and into muscle chub territory. The XXL shirt he had on barely covered a third of his gut and this new pair of shorts was ripped already. His gut had veered away from a hard ball gut and had gained a large overhang. His fat pad was obvious through his shorts and his thighs pushed together. His arms were the only noticeably strong part of his body as his muscular pecs were hidden under two mounds of dough. Between each set Ty ate a snack, Colby even feeding him a power bar or two while he was lifting. The whole session made the two incredibly horny, Ty getting off to his ever expanding body and the attention from Colby and Colby barely able to control himself around the client he had worked so hard to make huge. Before their last session, Colby decided to push Ty to the limit. He now wanted him to have three shakes at a time and eat at least 20,000 calories of food a day. 34,400 calories in a day meant Ty would barely have time to workout and Colby knew that. He even instructed Ty to take the two weeks off from work so he could focus on growing.

When Ty waddled in for their last session, it was clear the man had done nothing but gorge himself on food the last two weeks. The XXL shirt from two weeks go now was only able to cover his huge moobs and did a poor job at that. His thighs and ass exploded out of his shorts that were struggling to stay together. Only coming up two thirds of the way on his cheeks, his ass crack was visible for everyone to see and Colby noticed he must’ve no longer had underwear that fit. Colby doubted his client would’ve been able to get around so well if it wasn’t for all the strength training he had done. His belly was now the most dominant part of his body, dwarfing even his huge arms and chest. Expansive and soft, its overhang covered most of Ty’s crotch. Standing on the scale, the numbers read 500 pounds. The trainers cock hardened almost immediately, it was clear Ty was ready. The sixth session would be the best yet, something to celebrate the 300 pounds Ty had gained over twelve weeks. In the normal gym room was a bench press set up surrounded by tables of food. Colby lead Ty past the banquet in the room and sat him in on the bench. Colby rolled the first table over and began to feed Ty slowly, who indulged in Colby’s offering. From cakes to cheese steaks, all the food was special ordered to be as fattening as possible and Colby was going to put it to good use.

For the next 5 hours Colby fed Ty who never gave up pace. Once the last table was finished, Colby climbed off Ty’s enormous belly and assessed the damage. He had moved his obese client off the bench to make things easier, not that Ty even noticed he was too involved with the food constantly shoved in his mouth. The scale he had installed registered 550 pounds, meaning the beast had devoured 10 pounds of food an hour. Since Colby had started with Ty, the man had gained an average of 30 pounds a week but more importantly had completely destroyed his metabolism and gained one of the largest appetites Colby had ever seen. Over the course of their feeding, all of Ty’s clothes had been blown off his body by his inflated stomach leaving every roll of fat exposed to Colby’s eye. Ty moaned in the pleasure of his full stomach and then expressed his thanks to Colby. When his trainer asked for one last thing, Ty couldn’t help but say yes. Colby turned Ty onto his stomach giving him a perfect view of his chubby, expansive ass. Taking his dick out, he lubed up his client’s hole and began to pound the blubbery man. Each push into Ty’s tight ass felt heavenly and the sound of his body slapping into the two globes of fat pushed Colby closer to the edge. Seeing the state of the man in front of him and knowing he led Ty there on purpose was the hottest part of the experience. He knew this would only be the beginning for Ty.

Contain: F*rce Feeding, Stuffing, Rapid WG, Gender Neutral Reader, First Person, Skinny to Fat, Mind Altering Food