Hailey took a deep breath of the crisp air as she stepped put of the car. It had turned out to be a gorgeous weekend day, probably one of the few before winter.
The confirmation honk of the car alarm faded as she started the long walk back to the entrance, trying to form a list in her mind of needs and wants.
And desires, but those were a longshot.
She often fantasized about dates to a farmers market, holding a chubby hand in hers while slowly walking around; stopping at every food vendor, buying their favorites in bulk to take home.
She let out a wistful sigh, cursing herself for her preferences. She tried to imagine the date with that guy in the finance division, but wrinkled her nose at the imaginary rebuff of buying food in excess that the athlete was sure to give.
Pulled from her thoughts, she greated a vendor with freshly canned preserves and jams, chatting happily as she picked out a few- strawberry rhubarb, orange jalapeño, and cherry. She glanced up, feeling someone looking at her, but saw no one.
"You know, there's a new farmer to the market this year, and he has some of the best cornbread. Those preserves would go great on it. McAllister, if I recall. Normally they don't come out, but they did this year."
"Oh? I'll have to keep an eye out. Thanks." She nodded her thanks, before moving on; thinking nothing of the recommendation.
At another table, while looking at some handmade kitchen towels, she heard a few women talking about the new McAllister brothers, and their good looks.
Rolling her eyes, she tries to tune them out until her ears perk up.
"...except for these eldest son. He's.... well, corn-fed for sure."
"I wonder how much of the harvest goes to him!"
She stamps down an indignant reply, choosing instead to move on. She was familiar with types of people like that - the poor guy probably lacked a six pack and was getting picked on.
She stopped for a fresh smoothie, a sign catching her eye as she waited.
"Fresh Corn Fritters! Supplied by McAllister Farms!"
"Uh, how are the fritters?"
"They're so good! There's sweet and savory options. One on the brothers is a great cook, for sure. Once we tried them, we had to keep some on hand to sell too. Would you like an order?"
"Yeah, I'll try the... honey fritters."
"I'll get those started. Five dollars, please." She fished out a bill and passed it over, stepping back so another customer could step forward. After a few minutes, her name was called and she slid onto a near by picnic table. Picking up one of the fritters, she inspected the crisp patty, trying to avoid the drizzles of honey, before curiosity taking a bite.
Damn. That was delicious. If she was alone, she might have even moaned. The corn was crunchy, and sweet on it's own; but some salt and a little garlic balanced it out.
She savored the rest of the plate before continuing the walk around the market, wistfully imagining feeding a beau those fritters by the dozen. After several other purchases and stops, she decided to take a break in the small field where a live band was playing some folk music. Laying back on her elbows she took a leisurely look around, noting how many people seemed to be eating corn fritters, corn dogs, popcorn... even a fresh ear of sweet corn.
She sat up, sensing an opportunity to write up a story for the magazine she worked for. It was a food-centric magazine, typically interviewing chefs and celebrities in the culinary world, but why not dedicate some of her pages to the beloved farmers market?
She sent a quick text to her manager, mouthing the words to the forming article while she waited for the green light. A thumbs up came a minute later, no surprise with her workaholic boss.
The words flowed easily as she wrote, the rough draft coming together as she wrote about the market, the role in the community, the importance of farm to table food, and finally crafting an introduction into McAllister Farms.
She stayed for the last couple of songs, making her exit from the park as bands changed over as to not disturb the peace. As she walked through the crowd, eyes searching for the right vendor, she spied more people with corn goods, and a simple but clear logo bearing the McAllister name on the paper trays.
She looked at a pair of guys, and felt her mouth go dry; one was pretty average but the other... hoo boy, he was well beyond average. By at least 300 pounds.
She approached, a carefully practiced smile on her face. She caught the look of interest on both of their faces, although the larger man quickly guarded his expression, his face smoothing out.
"Hi, I'm with Northcountry Fair, a culinary magazine in the tri-state. I'm writing an article on the market, and wanted to know if I could get your thoughts? It can be credited or anonymous."
"Yeah, sure." The thinner guy said, confidence written across his face as he smiled at her.
"I've been noticing that the favorite of the day seems to be McAllister Farms," she nodded to his hands, "and I guess I want you know if the hype is worth it?" She pulled out a notebook and pen, waiting as he cast an amused glance to his larger friend.
"Everything I've tried is great. They're a good family dedicated to bringing good food to the community, either in their produce or what they cook."
"You seem pretty friendly with them."
"It's a small community, comes with the territory. They supply corn to my farm."
"Since you're familiar, is their main focus produce or cooking? Meaning, can we expect a restaurant one day?"
"Uh, maybe?" He glances at his friend, as if waiting for his opinion but the other man only shrugged. "Caleb likes cooking, but I'm not sure if it's a hobby or a goal. You really ought to-"
"The McAllister tent is just up and a-ways, I'm sure any of the brothers there will be glad to talk to you." The larger guy finally says, and with enough dismissal in his voice that Hailey stepped back in surprise.
"Ah... yeah. Alright. Uhm, can I get your name for my column?"
"Sure, it's Reed Endsley." Reed said, casting a frown at his friend. "This is-"
"Only you gave your thoughts, thats okay. Thanks again, Reed." She said, backing away with a last look at the unknown man. She had to wonder if he was always standoffish, or was it just her? In her time chasing the larger fellow, she'd come across prickly big guys before - guys so beaten down about their size that they wrapped themselves in cactus thorns to prevent hurt.
But damn, normally she got their names before being brushed off.
She stopped a few more times for comments before finally finding the farm's table.
It was manned by three good looking guys, all tanned and strong, and it was clear they were all brothers. She approached and felt them turn their charming smiles on her, but felt wholly unaffected.
"Hiya boys. I've been looking all over for you."
"Well, you found us. How can we help you?"
She ran them through her spiel, spending a couple minutes getting a quick backstory of the family and farm. "I've heard Caleb is the man to talk to about the food, so..." She looked between them, expectantly.
"Ah, yeah... Caleb, he's not here at the moment. He decided to walk around and chat with the other vendors. He should be back soon."
"Oh, no worries. I'll probably hang around for a bit if that's ok?"
"Yeah, of course. I'll shoot him a text."
"Thanks...?"
"Sam. That's Robby and Louis." The other two nodded at her, having stepped away to help actual customers.
"Thanks, Sam." She walked to a near by table, quickly fleshing out the article draft, making sure to note their dedication to growing quality food that started with their grandparents, and how that's shaped their farm today.
She was distracted by seeing Reed and the handsome stranger again, slowly walking this way. Rees spied her first, not so subtly elbowing his friend in the side. There was myriad of looks that crossed his face - surprise, embarrassment, curiosity- but he quickly schooled his expression back to neutral.
To her surprise, they both strolled up and into the McAllister tent, Sam bounding over talk to the stranger before pointing at her.
Well, shit. That must be Caleb.
And they'd started off on the wrong foot in a monumental way.
Caleb took a visibly deep breath before walking over to her. He stopped in front of her, casting a shadow over her that made her skin flush despite the sudden chill from the shade.
"Hailey, right?"
"Yeah. You must be Caleb?"
"That's me. My brother said you have questions?"
"I do. Although you could've answered them earlier."
"Ah, yeah... uh, sorry about that. It's just- nevermind. That was rude of me, and my mom raised me better."
"That's okay, I was a bit rude at the end too. How about we start fresh?" He nodded, grateful. She stuck out her hand, "Hailey Sherwin, writer for Northcountry Fair."
"Caleb McAllister, third generation farmer and reluctant chef." He said, smiling, as he shook her hand. His skin was rough- not in a bad way- and warm, and big. She felt her face flush as their touch lingered before she pulled away to pick up her pen.
"What made you start cooking?"
"I've always loved food. Being the eldest, I often was helping my mom cook for the others when I wasn't working with my dad. I've been told I have a natural talent for it, so I often get stuck in the kitchen for family holidays."
"That's sweet." She smiled, pausing writing to look up at him. "Do you follow recipes or just go by taste?"
"It depends. Baking is a bit of a science, and an art form, so sometimes following a recipe is needed. When it comes to cooking though... it falls in place on its own, I'd say."
"What flavors or ingredients inspire you?
"Well, corn is a big one."
"It's your main product, right?"
"Yeah, corn fed born and raised. Besides that, I like anything fresh. Carrying that freshness from tge ground to the kitchen to the plate."
"So do you swear off canned or frozen foods?"
"No, those have their places. And if you do it right, the freshness is preserved too."
They continue to chat, their conversation slowly morphing from an interview to mutual curiosity. At some point, Sam delivered some food with a smile, and Caleb patiently explained each item and waited for her to snap some photos.
The sun was starting to set over the trees, and she glanced at the skyline with a scowl.
"Wow, time flew by. Hopefully I didn't keep you from anything important."
"Not at all. My brothers are the social ones, they love this kinda stuff."
"You don't?"
"I'd rather go visit other people, maybe listen to the music and eat some of the food."
"Sounds like a great day to me. That's what I was doing before I caught a story, at least."
"I mean... there's a market over in Plainsfield next weekend... if you want to go."
"I'd love that." She said, smiling at him, trying to stamp down the eagerness. "I need to ask though, why so hesitant earlier?"
"Oh... I'm used to most women just dismissing me, thanks to my size. I'd already heard some snickers earlier when people found out I was the one cooking. I just... yeah."
"To be clear, Caleb McAllister, I think youre pretty good looking as you are. And you're a great cook to boot. Total package, really."
"I'm not all that."
"See, that's the first thing you need to learn about me. I'm always right. Give me your hand." She didn't even wait for him, instead grabbing his hand and writing her phone number on the back of it. "I expect you to text me tomorrow at the latest, and even better if you invite me to the farm for some photos."
"Yes ma'am. Thanks again... for your words, and the article."
"Both are my pleasure. I'll be waiting for that text. Night boys!" She called to his brother's, standing and gathering her bag. Caleb was still seated, almost shell shocked, so she gave his forearm a squeeze and shot him a wink before striding away.
She made it to the patkingvlot before she felt her phone buzz.
Lunch at my place?
Absolutely!
Damn, she loved the farmers market.
1 YEAR LATER
Hailey and Caleb waved bye to the brothers as they blended into the crowd, hand in hand, slowly walking to the first tent covered table they saw.
Caleb was a bit fatter this year around, which worked well to part the steady stream of the crowd with her tucked under his arm.
She had came clean at their third date, after getting too handsy in his pickup truck. By the fifth date, she finally got to feed him a platter full of corn fritters. By the ninth date, he had eaten cherry pie off of her body after she asked him to move in.
He shifted more to the administrative side of the farm, and also at her prodding, starting working on a cook book and social media presence.
The comments were rough, of course, but when she would whisper sweet nothings and praise into his ear every night, suddenly trolls didn't really matter.
"Where to first, big guy?"
"I think some fresh pastries from the Hendersons, smoothies from Ridgeway Farms, and a bag of jerky from Reed would be a good start."
"Just to start? Sounds good to me." She gave his love handle a squeeze. "Have I mentioned how much I love the farmers market?"
"Perhaps, only half a dozen times minimum." He joked, smiling down at her. "But for the record, I love them too."
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"Paul, come to my office real quick." Paul nodded at his boss, trying hard to quickly chew and swallow the donut he had shoved in his mouth. He stood up, painfully aware of the way his clothes tugged at his belly, the way his thighs rubbed, and the undeniable creaking of his office chair.
He walked into his boss' office and squeezed into the offered chair, trying not to squirm under the stern gaze of his boss, Frank. Frank's stare morphed into a glower as his eyes dropped to Paul's belly.
"Paul, there's no easy way to say this, and I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Your weight is a growing problem. You're setting a bad example as my Chief Operating Officer to the employees, not to mention you're the face of this company when you travel."
Frank paused talking to push a file towards Paul.
"The way I see it, you have a few options. Lose the weight on your own, or keep going as you are and I'll send you to a remote town to work." He pauses, his face softening. "Or, because you're my friend and I value you as my COO, I'll send you to a fat camp. Samuel in finance went and said they were amazing."
"Uh, thanks. Can I get back to you on that?"
"Sure, sure. But to be clear, Paul, I want you in shape for the Christmas party. You have six months to make that happen."
"Copy that. Six months." Paul picked up the folder and shuffled out of the office, trying to not die of embarrassment.
So he liked to eat. Big deal! He was still a great COO. He was still personable! He felt the swell of indignation before the reality washed over him.
While he should be allowed to live the way he wanted, the world was not that kind of place. He worked in a very appearance-forward field and first impressions were everything. And he couldn’t just quit or be transferred to some backwoods town.
He needed a plan.
_-_-_
The rest of the day passed in a nervously agitated state, his browser full of keto diets and Atkin diets. He had six months to shed almost 80 pounds of fat before he could be considered “in shape”. Or at least close enough. 100 pounds was a pipe dream, but by then he could potentially have a six pack.
His foul mood followed him home, ensuring his weekend would be a miserable one full of salads. He set his briefcase down and sighed when he recognized the decadent smells of dinner coming from the kitchen. He followed his nose to where his wife stood in front of the stove, stirring a large pot of chicken alfredo while two loaves of bread rested on the counter.
“Hi, my love. How was work?”
“It was long. I’m just happy to be home.” He said, walking behind her to bury his face in her hair. His belly filled the swell of her back, her smaller body curved perfectly for his. “Although dinner smells amazing, I probably shouldn’t eat.”
“Why? Are you feeling okay?” Lacey asked, turning around to press her hand to his forehead.
“I’m feeling fine, but Frank gave me a talk about, well, this.” He slapped his belly and watched as her lips curled into a smile. He knew she was into his body, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t too. Which made Frank’s ultimatum even worse.
Maybe a small town wouldn’t be so bad…
“Well, we knew this was a possibility. How much does he want you to lose?”
“All of it… so 80 pounds. By Christmas.”
“What! That’s crazy! And incredibly unhealthy. He can’t be serious.”
“He is. He even offered me to go to ‘fat camp’.”
“The nerve of some people!” She launched into a tirade about fat phobia as Paul settled into a chair at the table, feeling comforted by her anger. It was a hollow anger, since there was no recourse available to them. She finally looked over at him and he could see her shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry, Paul. I wish I had an easy solution for you.”
“I know, and I love you for it. Like you said, we knew this was a possibility. Hell, it was practically a guaranteed outcome. I love the way I look, but I need my job.” She settled onto his plush lap, there was just enough room left for her to sit.
“I know. Fuck, I’m going to miss your belly. And that ass was just starting to grow, too. I guess this means I need to stop cooking alfredo.” She laughed, leaning in to kiss his ear lobe and his thick neck.
“Unfortunately… But, what do you say about one last gluttonous weekend? I’ll let you stuff and fuck my brains out before I start dieting Monday.” He offered, pulling his head back to give her a smirk full of promises.
“Deal. I hope you’re hungry, fat boy.” She purred, her kiss on his neck turning to a soft bite. She got up, her arm trailing along his body before she strutted over to the stove, knowing his eyes were on her.
While they had met when both of them were fit, only she had maintained that lifestyle. Sure, she had filled out in the past five years, her body developing sweet curves that rounded her body out but she was nowhere near fat, not even chubby. She had loved standing him in front of the mirror so she could admire both of their bodies, the contrast between them setting her on fire.
The weekend passed in a hedonistic blurr. He went to bed stuffed Friday and didn’t get a moment to rest before Monday rolled around, the effects of her handy work leaving him with a total of 84.3 pounds to lose by Christmas.
That first week was hard, and to give Lacey credit, she did her best to help him. But by the second week his resolve was wavering when he was barely down two pounds. By the third week, “eating healthy” meant he had one muffin instead of two and only a single cheeseburger at lunch instead of a double cheese and bacon burger.
Needless to say, he had failed his diet by a month in. And the second fat camp brochure left on his desk reminded him of what was at stake. That day at lunch, he poured over the internet for weight loss miracle drugs and methods while he pounded back a chili cheese dog.
He was about to click on another link from a D-list actor promising great results when he saw a local ad to a holistic shop. Clicking on the link he found a fairly sparse website but the site promised a result for any affliction or complaint. With nothing to lose (literally), he scribbled down the address and shot Lacey a text he would be late coming home.
The address led him to a small, dimly lit shop on a side street across town, and he kept glancing over his shoulder as he walked across the street to the entrance. For as grungy as the street was, the inside of the shop was surprisingly warm and cozy, a faint smell of cinnamon and rosemary inside.
“Hello! Welcome to Odds & Ends Apothecary! How can I help you?” An equally warm voice greeted him, his head swiveling over to see a friendly woman in her early 50’s at the counter.
“Hi, I saw your ad online and I’m in need of a cure? Or help, at least.”
“Of course, of course. Come, sit at the table and tell me about what is bothering you. Is it allergies? I have tea for that.”
“No, thank you. My, uh, problem is a bit more permanent than that. I, uh, this is embarrassing, I’m sorry.”
“No worry, my dear. Many men suffer from erectile dysfunction, I have a lotion-”
“No! It’s not that, thankfully. Yet, at least. No, my problem is I need to lose weight but I just… can’t.”
“Ah. I see.” She settled back in her chair and looked closely at him, making him squirm as if she had peeled back the curtain to his soul. “You are being required to lose weight but your heart isn’t in it. You like the way you are and the motivation to change isn’t there.”
“That is … surprisingly spot on. My boss is forcing my hand, unfortunately. I don’t know, maybe I should take the demotion and move.” He sighed heavily, shuffling his feet.
“You could. But I don’t think that’s the path you need to be on. Now, I have a few options. One is a tea blend that is all natural and will jumpstart your metabolism, but it is a slower process that requires you to follow a restricted diet.”
“Um, that’s not going well at the moment.” He admitted, blushing a bit.
“I don’t blame you. Diets are terrible for the soul. My next option is a serum to be administered twice a day, but it will make you sick if you eat any rich foods. It also requires more time than you have.”
“Yeah, that won’t work either.”
“The last option … it will work, and you can eat whatever you want. But it requires someone else to take on your consequences.”
“What? How is that possible?”
“My dear Paul, there’s a lot you don’t know.” She said, a smile not unlike a wolf spreading across her face. Paul felt his heart shudder, and vaguely wondered if this had been a wise choice.
“What happens to the other person?”
“You will lose weight but they will gain it. You eat something fattening, they will be fattened.”
“What if they eat something fatty?”
“It will not come back to you. The only caveat is, for this to work quickly, it has to be someone you’re close to. A best friend, a sibling … a spouse.”
“Could I give it to my boss?”
“You could, and that would be a fitting revenge. But you have five months to meet your goal and your boss is not that close to you.”
“How do you- Nevermind. Will the other person suffer health problems?”
“Not as if they gained weight on their own. Maybe in time, if they truly exceed certain thresholds.”
“I see.” He leaned forward, his eyes focused on his hands and the tablecloth. He traced the swirly pattern with one finger, a question forming in his mind. “Am I a bad person to do this?”
“Morality is a spectrum. I would wager that a certain person would be more inclined to enjoy the change than others might. Afterall, it hasn’t just been you enjoying this lifestyle, correct?” She asked, cocking her head even though she already knew the answer.
“That’s true. But shouldn’t she get a say?”
“Would she get a say if you had to move to a town of one thousand people in the middle of corn country? Some choices are made without our input. The question I would ask is if you could love her when she’s twice the woman.”
“Of course, that’s without question.” She nodded in agreement, and stood up to walk to a shelf full of jars. With practiced precision, she plucked a jar of a peach colored liquid from the shelf and brought it back to the table.
“One half for you, one half for her. Taken before bed to avoid some mild queasiness as things get shifted around.”
“Will she notice the change?”
“Hard to say. Magic affects everyone differently. I would think it fully depends on her and any former desires she had.”
“Will it be permanent? Specifically, will I ever be able to gain any weight?” Paul asked, clearing his throat of the nervous hitch in his voice.
“In ten years it will fade. But bear in mind, that if your appetite is that of a much larger person, you will put on weight fast once it wears off. So you have ten years to either learn good habits or not.” The woman shrugged, no apparent judgment on her face.
“Alright, I’ll take it. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing too major. One hundred dollars and a promise that I can visit you in ten years.”
“Oh-kay. How will I contact you?” He asked, struggling to reach his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out enough bills and slid them over, surprised at the low price but not questioning his luck.
“Silly boy, I’ll find you. Remember, one half for each of you.”
“Right. Before bed.”
“Exactly. Good luck, Paul. I look forward to seeing you in the future.” He quickly left, shuffling across the street while holding the bottle like you would carry a newborn. When he glanced back at the alley, the shops’ windows were dark and there was no sign of activity. With a slight shiver, he pulled his car into traffic and headed home. He barely resisted the temptation to pull into a drive thru, but kept his focus on just getting home.
“Lacey, I’m home!” He called out, stashing the bottle inside his briefcase.
“Hi. I have dinner in the microwave for you.” She responded, rounding the corner just as he latched it shut.
“Thanks. Sorry for working late.”
“No problem, love. I had a busy day and was late with dinner, so it was a happy coincidence.” She leaned in to kiss him, before pulling back to smile at him. “I think I’m going to do a yoga video class if you want to join … or watch.”
“How can I say no to dinner and a show?”
“Perfect, I’ll go get ready.” She left him with a wink and before long he was settled into the couch with a plate of “healthy” food but the amount of butter on the vegetables really made him question where the line between healthy and not truly lay.
He watched her stretch and contort her body, enjoying the sight when a thought began to form in the back of his mind. Watching her do yoga with another fifty pounds. A hundred. Two hundred.
He shifted carefully, his pants growing tighter as he struggled to control his breathing. Lacey glanced over and grinned at him, mistakenly assuming his erection was for her current body.
“Almost done, hot stuff. Then I can show you some new moves in the bedroom.”
“Oh! Well, let me go wash my plate. Want some water for when you’re done?”
“Sure, that'd be great.” She chuckled, once again assuming his rush was attributed to the promise of sexy times. Well, it was, to a degree.
He quickly washed his plate before grabbing the potion bottle, taking care to be silent as he could be. Taking two glasses, he carefully measured half of the peach fluid into both and topped the glasses off with cold water. He carefully carried the glasses to the living room, where Lacey was on the floor finishing her cool down stretches.
“Good timing! It got a little hot in here, huh?” She sat up, eagerly reaching for a glass. He watched with narrowed eyes as she drank … and drank … and drank. She finished the glass in several gulps, and wiped her mouth off with her hand. “That was the best tasting water I’ve had yet. But I know of something I’m still thirsty for.” She winked at him, walking to the bedroom only to pause in the illuminated doorway and pull off her shirt.
He quickly drank his glass, noting an odd sweetness to the water before following her into the room. He lost focus on watching for any sudden changes as she practically tackled him to the bed, her hands gleefully roaming over his body. It really was no wonder why his diet kept failing.
The next several days brought no change, but by a week, Paul was cinching his belt tighter by a notch and a half, and even Frank stopped to compliment him.
“Looking slimmer, Paul. Good to see you finally found a working diet.”
“Thanks, Frank. I decided to try out intermittent fasting and well, the results seem promising.”
“For sure. Keep up the good work.”
Paul had pre-thought of his excuse, especially since intermittent fasting allowed him to eat at specific windows of time. His coworkers could think he only ate lunch, while Lacey thought he was only eating dinner. No one batted an eye at his large meals since he was getting slimmer.
Feeling not unlike a con man, he ordered a double cheeseburger for lunch with a large order of onion rings on the side. Guilt crept in as he chowed down, wondering what was happening to Lacey right at this moment - is she feeling full suddenly? Can she feel her belly pushing out with a growing layer of fat?
He could hardly wait to go home, the day passing by painstakingly slow. The walk to his car felt like a marathon, every stoplight was red, 25mph zones felt like torture, the walk to his front door surreal.
“I’m home!”
“I’m in the living room!” She called back, her voice suspiciously muffled. He made his way to the living room, one hand subconsciously tugging at his slack pants. “Hey, how was work?” She asked, the kiss she gave him tainted with the sweet and savory tang of barbecue chips.
“It was good, but I’m glad I’m home. Did you have a good day today?”
“Yeah, kinda a slow day at work. I’m feeling pretty hungry though. How do you feel about pizza? Wait, can you even eat that on your diet?”
“As long as it’s within my fasting window, I can. Want me to order?”
“Sure, just don’t get too much. I don’t want to be stuck with leftovers.”
“Sure, sure. Not too much.” He quickly changed into lounging clothes, pulling the drawstring tight. Did the potion transmute hunger and cravings, too?
He ordered pizza and breadsticks before sitting down next to her. He kept glancing over at her, looking for any signs- there! She leaned forward to grab her soda and her belly folded in on itself.
He felt lightheaded, his eyes glued to her belly. She seemed oblivious to her situation and his gaze, eagerly bounding to the door for the pizza. He barely kept it together through dinner, seconds, and dessert, before dragging her to the bedroom.
-_-_-
Another month passes as he's down another fifteen pounds, and Lacey is up twenty.
She's oblivious and he's brushing off concerned comments from friends and family.
"It's just a few pounds, they're freaking out over nothing." She laughs, eating a cherry turnover.
"Right? Definitely an over-exaggeration." He chortled, eyeing her belly hang as he ate an apple turnover.
"Your diet is going well though! Sad to see your belly shrink, but your muscle is coming back." She said, taking her turn to look him over. He smiled, a little guilty, as he took another turnover.
"Yeah, well, it's better than moving right?"
"Anything is better than moving." She nods, and he feels moderately better. The potion counted as "anything", afterall.
_-_-_
At the halfway point to his deadline, he was down a total of thirty-five pounds, and she had packed on a total of fifty. Her parents staged an intervention, in which she stormed out of their house and demanded he drive her to the nearest drive thru since she wasn’t even “that big”.
As she ordered her large meal and a fudge sundae, he pondered how she was taking on his gluttony, although it was hard to tell where his greed ended and her stubborn streak began.She was never one to be told what to do, and her parents had ruined any chance of her trying to tone it back.
If she even could, with the magic.
-_-_-
By month four, he was sixty pounds down. Lacey though was up by eighty pounds, and growing steadily.
He had gotten his wish to watch her do yoga, and if he thought back to that day, his dick would swell immediately. She had pulled on tight shorts and a sports bra that did little to contain her body, her bottle of ice cold coke within easy reach as she started with stretching. As she moved into the actual moves, her knees and elbows wobbled under her weight, causing her to collapse on her plush belly. Her ass and thighs had wobbled while she recovered, and she breathlessly announced yoga was never that fun to begin with.
Then her shorts had ripped, and he had her there on the floor, sending her body into another cascade of waves. They had laid side by side for a while, only moving once their stomachs mutually growled.
Frank was ecstatic at his progress, and several of his coworkers begged him for help. He maintained intermittent fasting was his secret, and would quickly excuse himself from the conversations.
-_-_-_-
By the fifth month, with Thanksgiving around the corner, Paul and Lacey were unrecognizable to distant family members as they gathered for the gluttonous holiday.
Paul was only five pounds away from his goal, and his new button down perfectly accentuated his trim waist and strong shoulders. He walked around heer family home with confidence, easily glaring down any one who sniggered at her wide and wobbly ass.
Speaking of her ass… he had begged her to wear some new leggings and a sweater (in the name of comfort), and he had to stop himself from drooling every time she got up and waddled back to the table for more food. Her ass was wide and globular, and it jiggled with every step. But her belly was the real star - a round globe sticking out from her middle, the wobbling underbelly keeping anyone from assuming she was pregnant.
Lacey’s parents barely hid their displeasure, but Paul had quietly informed them that if they dared to mention her weight again they would be cut off for good. And surprisingly, they had agreed and remained vaguely pleasant to Lacey, who was otherwise unbothered.
In comparison, his family was far more accepting on their Black Friday feast, but that’s probably because his family was a bit thicker to begin with.
As he helped her to the car, her belly stuck out as she arched her back in an exaggerated waddle.
“Oh, god *urp* your family really knows their food.” She gasped, pausing at the passenger door, taking a short break as he began to rub her belly, his hands gliding over her belly as he gently rubbed the sides. “Next year… I vote we skip my family and just stay here for the weekend.”
“I love that idea… I’ll probably have to roll you out of here though.” He growled, his hands groping each love handle. She groaned softly, pushing her plump rear into his crotch.
“It would be worth it.”
“Let’s get you home… after stopping by McDonalds.”
“Deal…” She sighed, letting him help guide her into the passenger seat.
As they headed home, he kept glancing at her, especially at each bump in the road.
By now, she was a willing participant as his feedee, despite never showing any interest in being anything but a feeder. His feeder, specifically. He had to wonder if the magic had simply flipped the switch in her head, or if it merely amplified a part of her she had buried.
He was definitely still a foodie, although he knew he would need to slow down his own appetite soon, so that she wasn’t being bombarded by his calories too.
But… he had ten years. Plenty of time.
That night, he had happily ordered them two Big Mac meals with shakes, his own appetite raging as he watched her stuff her face, a blissed out look in her eyes.
_-_-_-_
“Goddamn, Paul. You actually did it! You look great.” Frank said, slapping his back as he tapped their punch glasses together.
“Thanks, Frank. It was actually pretty easy, I just needed to find what worked for me.” He said, smiling. He had knocked his goal out of the water, and had shifted into building some muscles - of course, using “bulking” as an excuse to drink mass gainer shakes at work - and he filled out his suit nicely.
“Where’s Lacey at?”
“Oh, she’s probably grabbing some appetizers.” He smiled, turning to look at the buffet.
“I don’t see her, of course she might be behind that whal- oh my god.” Frank muttered, his mouth dropping open as she turned around. Her face was still recognizable, just ringed in a layer of pudge with a plump double chin.
She was dressed in a flattering emerald green dress that draped along her curves, hiding her exact shape but still leaving little question to her size. She smiled at Frank as she waddled over, and Paul wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her temple.
“Hi Frank. Merry Christmas.”
“M-merry Christmas, Lacey. How have you been?”
“I’ve been great! Just enjoying life, you know?”
“Yeah. Um, I need to make my rounds. I’ll see you in the new year, Paul.”
“Sure, man. Have a good vacation.” Paul smiled, enjoying his boss’ obvious discomfort. He glances down at her plate, catching her happy grin as she popped another crab cake into her mouth. “You having a good time, love?”
“I am, the food is delicious.”
“You’re not too tired are you?” He asked, glancing around for an empty chair. She was hefting around a luscious extra hundred and ten pounds, and he knew her feet would be aching soon.
“I’m alright. Besides, I shouldn’t turn down free food if I want to be 300 pounds by January first.”
“You’re so close; a few more days eating like this and you’ll be there in no time.” He grinned, sliding his hand down to pinch her ass. “Maybe I should take you home now, and break out the eggnog cheesecake early.”
“Hmm… let me get another plate and then we can slip out early.”
“Deal.” He let go of her, turning to great another coworker as she happily turned back to the buffet.
_-_-_-_
Ten years went by in a flash of pure hedonism, his improved performance at work awarding them more money to funnel into their appetites, so much so that Paul never really got his appetite under control.
That, of course, had two effects.
One was that Lacey was a voluptuous 520 pounds. She had moved to remote work, finding fulfillment in working from home as an editor where she didn't need to worry about outgrowing even the most inclusive plus-size clothing brands. She primarily carried her weight in her belly, a round globe that hung to her thighs as she waddled around their house, but her ass and breasts had their fair share of fat deposits.
Paul managed to maintain his athletic figure for a few months into the ten years, but by eleven years he had a dad bod back. By the twelfth year he was up to a decently hefty 300 pounds, almost doubling his weight.
Thankfully by that time, Paul had left the company and had started his own; a more fat-positive workplace where chairs were ordered with weight limits in mind. It wouldn’t be a Fortune 500 company… but he had loyal employees and a low turnover rate, and everyone knew happy employees made happy customers.
Their small Christmas party was held at a local buffet where he had rented the entire space out for the evening. As they were filing into the restaurant, he felt eyes on him, but after glancing around he saw no one. He took one last look, before shaking the feeling off and heading inside where people shouted in greeting.
From across the street, an older lady smiled, watching the rotund man disappear. She had figured he would end up here, having recognized a true glutton all those years ago. She just hadn’t factored on his wife getting so big. But magic had a way of surprising her, even to this day.
She headed back to her little shop, smiling at a young woman standing outside the door.
“Oh, my apologies dear! Here, come inside out of the cold.” She ushered the young woman in, smiling as she recognized a different kind of hunger.
BHM/FFA, male WG, soft feedism , weight acceptance, mildly explicit
Gerald had always been a big guy. Born and raised in the corn belt of the USA, three quarters of his family were obese and so was he by sophomore year in highschool.
He was a decent defensive lineman in school, an immovable wall of mass, so his coach never rode him about his weight. His parents had told him he was a growing boy, and they made sure he ate his fill and then some. His friends would usually pass him leftovers, figuring it’d help him on the field and it was better than wasting food.
He made it to college on a decent scholarship that paid close to half, so he found a job working in a bakery. The early mornings meshed well with his afternoon classes while leaving the evenings clear to hang out with friends. Plus, the owner never minded if he took the day-old fares back to the dorms. After all, he had been a starving college kid once too.
He had a few girlfriends, who all overlooked his weight for a time, before they got bored of his slow pace in life. He was happy to stop and smell the roses, never needing to go on grand adventures to other countries or feeling the need to spend every free hour in a gym.
Now, he did work out - about twice a week just to burn off stress and have some fun maxing out his squats. But anyone could tell you that that schedule was not helping him trim down.
So girls would come and go, many telling him he was perfect except… or amazing but…
But to be honest?
It didn’t really faze him. Yeah, it stung. But he knew that one day he’d find the right person. And he couldn’t fault someone for having a preference.
And he was right.
His other half found him six years after graduation, when he was 28 and working as a back-end software developer for a national bank. The pay was decent, but the real perk was a hybrid-schedule that let him work remote for three days of the week. He was still a big guy - a rough 408 pounds and 6’1”, but he had an infectious laugh and a quiet confidence.
Until Kellie.
She was one of the loan officers, and at least to Gerald, was cursed with anything technological.
It never failed that on Monday she’d be in his office at 10:15AM sharp, either a laptop or tablet tucked under her arm and two coffees in hand.
“Hi Gerald… I did it again. I swear the printer network hates me.”
“Ha, it just might, Kellie. Thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem, it’s the least I can do. The other tech guys get annoyed with me, but you’re always so nice.” She replied, carefully sitting in the chair across from him. She smiled at him, the left corner of her mouth higher than the right thanks to a childhood injury. As much as Gerald was an oversized good ol’ American boy, she was the good ol’ American girl. Came from a small town and worked her way through school, and then slowly climbed the ladder at the bank.
Gerald would hear the other tech-bro’s call her a five out of ten, but he always thought she was a ten out of ten. Beautiful in ways he really couldn’t explain, and no matter how many times he had to reconnect her to the network, or help her uninstall and reinstall programs when they broke; it was always worth it. He even had started to find reasons to extend the five minute fixes to ten or fifteen, happy to just talk to her.
“It’s not a problem at all, really. I know the networks can be a bit finicky.” A white lie, since only she ever had trouble. “Besides, the way to my heart is definitely caffeine and pastries.” He said, pausing at the slip. He glanced at her and noticed her smile was a bit more lopsided as she grinned wider.
“Well, if I knew you were this easy to bribe, I would’ve been bringing you donuts too!”
“I don’t need them, really. Coffee is just fine.”
“Mmm, if you say so. How was your weekend?”
“It was good! My family decided to get together for a big barbeque but otherwise I caught up on some TV shows.”
“Ooh, whatcha watching? Personally, I can’t get enough of Breaking Bad even though I’m so late to the game.”
“That’s a good one! And better late than never, honestly. I’m currently splitting time between watching all of the Star Treks and Squid Games. I skipped it during lockdown, so I’m playing catch up too.”
“Those are both great choices. But the real question, Picard or Kirk?”
“Don’t do that to me! They are both great Captains, and the show wouldn’t be the same without either of them.”
“Haha, staying neutral I see. Definitely a smart man.” She winked at him, and he felt his heart give a faint shudder.
“Do you-”
“Are you-”
They both chuckled, and Gerald motioned for her to go first while he ran a quick antivirus for good measure.
“I was going to ask, are you free tomorrow night? I need help setting up something called Rogu at my house and I’ll cook you dinner as a thank you.”
“You mean Roku? Yeah, I can help you.” He said, not sure if it was just an honest request for help or a date. He figured it was the former, not the latter, since he knew Kellie was a pretty avid hiker and probably was just a nice person rather than interested.
“Awesome, what were you going to ask?”
“Oh, uh, I was asking if you had anything to print.” He definitely was going to ask her on a proper date, but chickened out.
“Oh. Yeah. Let me see it.” She said, her voice a bit disappointed. She carefully took the laptop, quickly scrolling around the keyboard with deft fingers. “Where should I print?”
“Uh, there’s a printer I added, called Epson-of-a-gun.” He said, blushing a little as she threw her head back and laughed.
“How do you name printers? That’s great!”
“Ha, thanks. It’s pretty easy, I can fix that for you.” His printer whirred to life as she passed her laptop back. “Anything in particular?”
“Nope, surprise me.” He quickly typed the new name and passed it back.
“Here, print again. It’ll be the third one listed.”
“Hey, I think somethings wrong. It says ‘printer offline’?” She glanced up to see him laughing, one hand resting on his belly as he let out a booming laugh. She grinned, catching his joke. “Oh, that’s golden. I love it.”
“It also has the added benefit of reducing mis-printed items from other people.”
“The true benefit, honestly.” She glanced at the clock and sighed, “Guess I need to get back to work unless you can say my laptop crashed and I can go home?”
“Sorry, even I can’t pull that out of my wizard hat.”
“Shoot, maybe next Monday then?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks, Gerald. I appreciate the help as always.” She waved at him as she walked away, Gerald watching her hips sway before glancing away - his momma raised him better after all.
It was a couple minutes later his printer whirred to life, spitting out a single sheet. He picked it up with a sigh, wondering who mis-printed this time, only to chuckle at the page.
Oops, forgot to give you the deets. You can’t escape my tech-illiteracy that easy!
Tomorrow, at 6PM? I’m the second house on Ruby Lane. Come hungry, it’s the only way I can pay you!
He quickly pulled up a notepad, typing his response:
Don’t worry, I’m not afraid of Rogu the Roku. And don’t you know? I’m always hungry for home-cooked meals.
He printed it to “Printer Offline”, before he could second guess himself. It’s not like she didn’t know he was fat.
His printer spat out another page:
Well, you’re in for a real treat. I come from a long line of chefs and bakers so I know my sheet. ;}
Oh, btw, Florence is headed in your direction with her wireless keyboard…
He shoved the paper under his keyboard just as Florence, the office matriarch, appeared in his doorway.
“Gerald, dear, my keyboard won’t work. I had to plug in a stick thing and now it won’t type.”
“Did you unplug the dongle?”
“The what?”
“I’ll come look. And I’ll change your batteries just in case.”
“Thank you, dear. I’m just an old dinosaur at this age.” He nodded and followed her, listening politely as she talked about her flower garden. As he passed Kellie’s office, he glanced at her to see her smiling at him.
Kellie watched him walk by, her eyes taking him in. While his momma taught him better, her’s did not.
—
Both quicker than he thought possible but also excruciatingly long, it was finally 5:50 PM Tuesday.
He pulled his SUV into her driveway, a modest single story house with a decent lawn. He stepped out of the Expedition, slowly walking up to her door. Before he could knock, it swung open to reveal a beaming Kellie.
“You came!”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Come in, come in. Feel free to kick your shoes off or leave them on.” He glanced at her to see her in socks, so he steadied himself on the wall and kicked off his sneakers. She had changed out of her business wear, and settled for jeans and an off-the-shoulder top. He was suddenly glad he had gone home to change too, opting for some jeans, a plain white t-shirt with suspenders and his favorite maroon button up that framed his belly a bit and helped him look more muscular.
“Thanks.”
“Well, here’s the evil TV. I got as far as plugging the Roku stick into the HDMI port three, powered up the player and did the preliminary set up … but I just got lost after that.” She smiled at him, her eyes dancing as he cocked his head at her.
“That’s awfully techie there, Kellie.”
“Is it? Maybe all my meetings with you are rubbing off. Anyway, care for a drink? I have sweet tea, coke, sprite or beer.”
“Ah, sure, tea sounds great.” He grabbed the remote and quickly found her wireless connection already setup, the only step left for her to log in. He looked at her again as she came out of the kitchen holding two glasses. “Looks like you just need to type in your account.”
“Oh, is that all? Silly me.” She took the remote and deftly typed in her info, her crooked smile wide. “You can sit down, really.”
“You really didn’t need me, huh?” He asked, sitting back into one end of the couch, angling his body slightly to look at her. He was a bit relieved to not hear any creaking, a common noise when he sat anywhere.
“Alright, you caught me. I’m actually not that bad with computers or Roku. You just make my Mondays and Tuesdays better. And I didn’t want to scare you off by coming on too strong, since I guess I do that sometimes.” She said, blushing a bit, as she crossed her legs so she could sit facing him, one section of the sofa separating them.
“Well, I really like my Mondays and Tuesdays too. And since you’re coming clean. I was going to ask you out earlier, but uh, you beat me to it. Even though I thought this was more innocent.”
“Really? Maybe I should’ve used two winking emojis yesterday. I thought I was being obvious!”
“Maybe you were, and maybe I’m a bit … surprised.” He admitted, pausing to take a drink from his glass.
“Why?”
“That a woman as pretty as you liked me.”
“Well, here I was worried a handsome man like you wouldn’t like me. Guess we’re both a bit silly.”
“Looks like it. So, do you actually need my help on Mondays?”
“A few times were genuine, at the start! But uh, yeah, after the fourth time, I just found shit to sabotage. You never suspected me?”
“No, I just thought you were hopeless! I just figured there was no way you were purposefully deleting program files to crash stuff or deleting network connections.”
“Damn, I missed my calling in Hollywood. Although, I’ll give you a hint for next week: I’m going to “delete” my chrome browser.” She beamed at him, and he just shook his head with a chuckle.
“Be careful you don’t delete your bookmarks and data. Do you know how to create an export file?”
“I do, don’t worry. But I imagine I’ll need at least ten minutes with you to fix it.”
“Maybe fifteen, you know, just to be sure.” He said, feeling brave enough to wink at her. She blushed and shifted a bit closer.
“So, other than coming to the rescue of damsels like me, what do you like to do?”
“Well, I’m into tabletop games, building dioramas, reading, repairing electronics as a side gig. You know, typical stuff for a fat guy. What about you?”
“Well, I’m really into hiking and outdoor photography, but I love playing video games. And tabletop games like Catan or Risk. I’m also trying to teach myself to sew.”
“Wow! That’s a pretty wide range of interests. Why are you trying to start sewing?”
“To make clothes, mostly. In case I can’t find what I want.” She shrugs nonchalantly, but Gerald got the feeling there was more to it than just that. But a ding from the kitchen interrupted anything else. “Oh, almost ready. How do you take your steak?”
“Medium rare is fine by me.”
“Perfect. If you’d said well-done, I’d kick you out.” She teased, standing up and heading to the kitchen.
“Fair enough.” He called, slowly getting up to follow her. “Well, damn. This is quite the kitchen.” He let out a slow whistle at the catering-size fridge, double ovens, full range and butcher block counters.
“Thanks! Even if I broke family tradition by not becoming a chef, I still love to cook.” She bent down to pull thick cut ribeyes from the broiler. She quickly tests both of them before turning off the oven. “Just need to let these rest for a minute, but I think everything else is ready. Take a seat at the table.”
“I can help carry stuff. I insist.”
“A gentleman.” She winked, turning and pulling baked potatoes and a platter of bacon wrapped asparagus from a warmed oven. “Here you go, be careful of the hot plates.”
“Yes ma’am.” He carefully carried the dishes to the table, noting she had set plates across from each other. She came behind him with a bowl of salad and a sliced loaf of rye bread, steak-house style.
“Do you like all the fixings on your potato?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty easy to please.”
“Music to my ears. Seriously, take a seat. I have just two more trips.” He nodded, selecting the chair across from the doorway. For the second time, he was surprised that the chair was not only sturdy, but quiet as he lowered his bulk down. The sweet relief washed over him like a wave and he actually relaxed fully into the chair.
Kellie breezed back into the room to drop off a bowl of toppings and two dishes of clarified herb butter before heading back to the kitchen. Glancing around, he noted several large prints of some scenic mountain ranges, assuming Kellie had taken them. There were a few other photos scattered, and he could easily spot Kellie in each one surrounded by people. Some showed her college graduation, others featured her with one or two friends. But the photo he was most interested in was of her and her family, all crowded around what must be her grandparents. What made that photo stand out was not just the size of her family, but the size of some of her family members.
Several of them looked to be as big as he was, if not bigger. Which made sense if the family was a long line of bakers and chefs. But it certainly explained her heavy duty furniture.
“That’s my family, mostly my dad’s side and all of us kids.” She said, startling Gerald. He turned to look back at her as she set down a plate with the ribeyes on it and a pitcher of tea. “We’re a rowdy bunch, so getting us all settled for a photo is a miracle.”
“That’s how my family is. I have four siblings and a whole bus load of cousins.”
“That's close to my family! I have three siblings, and nine cousins just on my dad’s side. My mom’s side is a lot smaller, with just my siblings, myself and two other cousins.”
“That’s still a decent sized family! Are both sides in the cooking profession?”
“Oddly enough, yes. My paternal side are mostly bakers, and my maternal side is a mix of chefs and nutritionists. I do have one cousin who was an art major, but now she works in graphic design for restaurants.”
“And then there’s you: a business woman.”
“Ha, yeah. The black sheep.” She takes the smaller ribeye for herself before passing the plate to him. They loaded up their plates and began to eat, the conversation flowing as easy as it usually did. They were laughing about work, comparing games and swapping college stories to the point that Gerald had easily eaten his food and took seconds without really thinking about it.
Kellie watched with a soft smile, admiring not just his appetite, but his wit too. He was effortlessly funny and her sides ached from laughing.
They stayed at the table well past dinner, with Kellie only pausing to fetch cherry pie and ice cream for them. He was sharing a story about being paid to recover files off someone's waterlogged laptop only to find the files were from a decades old collection of toilet photos.
"Oh my! Please say they were clean!" She laughed, tucking her leg under her.
"All clean! But they were from all over the country, from hotels to bars, normal white toilets and then weird kitschy ones. It was so bizarre."
"Well, that's better than what you could've found."
"No kidding." He said, his spoon scraping the last of the pie as she watched with a smile. "Oof, I think I overate."
"Music to a chef's ears, or at least a chef by hobby. Do you have time for a movie?"
"Of course." She stood up, waving away his help to carry the dishes. He stood up, swallowing a groan but holding his full belly. His shirt was tight along his stomach, and he desperately wanted to unbutton his pants but figured that was not a good look on a first date, especially after clearing out dinner and dessert. He settled onto the couch, his body relaxing into the sofa as she turned off a few lights and settled next to him on the couch.
“How do you feel about Spaceballs? It’s one of my favorite movies.” She asked, looking over at him as she stretched forward to grab the remote.
“Sure, it’s been forever since I’ve seen that! John Candy is such a legend, too.”
“Oh, most definitely.” She quickly navigated through the menus, making him chuckle as she quickly queued up the movie. Sitting back, she pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and covered them, her body now snug against his. “I always get the chills after eating, it is the worst.”
“Well, the good news is I always run hot.” He said, a bit bold, and gently laid his arm around her. By the way the corner of her mouth crooked up, and the way she curled more into him, it was the right move.
The movie passed with a lot of laughs, and they watched the entire credits to delay what came next.
“I forgot how great that movie is.”
“I have some fun trivia for you: Mel Brooks actually used Lucas Films for the post-production. And Lucas loved it so much, he sent Brooks a note saying he was afraid he was going to burst something from laughing so hard.”
“That’s really cool! Lucas definitely had a good sense of humor about it.” He laughed, and she grinned up at him. “This was probably the best night I had in a while, thank you Kellie.”
“It was great for me too, Gerald. I wish I would’ve feigned needing help sooner.” He laughed again, uncovering his legs and glancing at his phone. “Oof, I didn’t realize it was so late. Do you have to be in early tomorrow?”
“No, I was thinking about taking a remote day.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Did you know driving tired is like driving drunk?” She asked, glancing down to fold the blanket. She peeked at him through her lashes, and he was fighting a smile.
“Oh, really now?”
“Yeah, and it is really late. It would be more responsible if you stayed here. For safety, you know.”
“Mhm, is that right?”
“It is… and I have a tempurpedic king size bed.”
“But I didn’t bring any clothes. Hell, I didn’t even take my work bag out of my truck.”
“Well, I have toiletries you can use. And I have some sleep clothes you can wear- my brother leaves a bag here sometimes when he is passing through and needs a couch. He’s a, uh, big guy too.”
“You’re making a good sell.”
“And I promise, nothing is required to happen. Well, I may cling on to you like a koala in the middle of the night. It’s a bad habit.” She smiled, already sensing she had won him over.
“Alright, I’m sold. But I expect the koala treatment now, it’s part of the deal.”
“Oh, I’ll deliver.” She said, her voice dropping as she looked him over and Gerald felt himself blush. “I’ll go set out the clothes and some bathroom stuff.”
“Thanks, I just need to go grab my work stuff. I’m sure it’s a safe neighborhood-” He stammered, not wanting to offend her.
“But you can never be too safe. It’s all good, Gerald.” She waved him off, and headed to the hallway. He went out to his truck, taking a moment to breathe deeply - is this really happening? With Kellie? And him? - he even pinched himself to make sure he was awake. He walked back inside, setting his bag by his shoes. He tossed his keys in the bowl, getting a sense of deja vu, or maybe just the rightness of the action. Like this was home already.
Shaking those thoughts from his head, he followed the sounds of drawers and found her setting some clothes on the bed.
“I didn’t know if you were a sweatpants kinda guy, or shorts, so I have a selection for you.”
“Thanks. To be honest, I, uh, sleep in boxers. I usually run hot at night.”
“I mean… I won’t complain…” She teased, walking over to place a hand on his chest. She bit her lip, before patting him and walking away. “Take as long of a shower as you like - I have a great water heater. I’m going to go run the dishwasher and pre-make the coffee.”
“I can help you, you know.”
“I know, but I promise it’s not a lot of work.”
With her final assurance, he scooped up a tanktop and the shorts before heading into the ensuite. It was fairly spacious, which was a surprising verdict for him. A fluffy towel sat on the sink, as well as a new all-in-one traveling kit, with all the basics. Stripping down, he looked at himself in the mirror, feeling like a teenager again.
“She offered to sleep over, in her bed. She obviously likes you.” He quietly said, trying to build some self-confidence. All signs pointed to her liking him - as he was - and he was determined to not screw it up. Women like Kellie were one in a million.
Feeling bolstered, he made sure the fan was on and stepped into the shower. The curtain was on a curved rod, and it made the typically small space feel luxuriously large. He spent a few extra minutes under the hot water before stepping out and grabbing for the towel. He paused at the unfolded size, the simple thoughtfulness of an oversized towel making his head rush.
He gleefully wrapped the towel around his waist, having never expected that anyone besides an obese person to think of something like that. He continued to dry off before getting dressed in the borrowed pajamas and exiting the bathroom.
“Hey, Kellie? Where can I toss the towel?” He asked, padding into the living room to the kitchen.
“The laundry room is through the door to your left. Just chuck it in the washer.” She replied, drying her hands on a towel. “Good timing, by the way.”
“I try.” He joked, leaning into the laundry room to toss his towel. He turned to carry his old clothes to his bag but she stopped him.
“Just throw them into the washer too. I’ll hop into the shower real quick and then I can start a load, then all we have to do in the morning is dry them for you.”
“Oh, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all and I’ll be quick. Feel free to watch something or whatever. There’s stuff in the fridge if you want food or something to drink.” She tossed over her shoulder, her hands already under her shirt as she walked down the hallway. Gerald could only chuckle, before grabbing a water bottle and heading to the couch. Not bothering to turn on the TV, he settled for playing on his phone, which proved to be a good decision. Not even a full ten minutes later, Kellie emerged with damp hair and wearing a crop top and shorts set, tossing him a smile as she walked to the laundry room.
Gerald forgot his manners and drank her in, admiring the way she walked and the subtle sway of her hips. After several beeps, she emerged from the laundry room, flicking off the lights before stopping in front of him.
“Ready for bed?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. If you’re ready.” He said, stumbling over his words as he shuffled to his feet. He followed her to her bedroom, noticing the extra sway she was putting in her step, to the point when she suddenly spun around he was caught off guard. “Oh!”
“Listen, I want to be straight up. I’m not expecting anything, so I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m perfectly fine just cuddling, or even sleeping with a pillow wall between us if that’s what you want. I don’t want you to feel indebted to me, or anything.” She rushed out in a solid breath, sucking in an inhale as he processed her word jumble.
“I appreciate that. And I don’t want you to feel pressured either. I’m just fine with cuddling.”
“Okay, cool. Cool. I think I made that more awkward than it should’ve been. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous, it’s been a while, and I like you, and-”
“I like you too Kellie. And don’t sweat it, it was good we got on the same page. I’m nervous too.” He laughed, reaching down to hug her. She melted into him with a happy sigh and let him walk her backwards into her room. He let go of her to let her crawl into the right side of the bed, before he climbed into the left side, barely registering that the frame didn’t groan under him.
They laid facing each other, both with neutral expressions before breaking out into matching grins.
“Come here. I promised koala treatment and by God you’re going to get koala treatment.” She held out her arms, grinning as he shuffled closer, his heart thumping. She motioned for him to spin around, which he did after a brief hesitation.
As soon as he settled, she slid her arms around him, throwing one leg over his hip. He let out a shuddering breath, and he could feel her release one of her own against his back.
“This okay?”
“Yeah, very.”
“Goodnight, Gerald.”
“Night, Kellie.” He responded, smiling at her slight squeeze around him.
Despite their respective nerves, they both fell asleep quickly. And it was probably the best night of unmedicated sleep each had had in a little while. Come the next morning, Gerald woke up on his back, with Kellie about 60% on top of him, with her head on top of his belly.
“Morning, sleepy head.” She said, her voice scratchy with sleep. She opened one eye to peer down at him from the perch of his belly.
“Uh, morning…” He said, a bit perplexed by her position. She slid off of him, sheepishly crawling up to him.
“Sorry, I sleep in weird positions. Probably should have warned you.”
“It’s all good. I imagine I’m pretty soft, at least.”
“Very. I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit … hands on, and affectionate.”
“I’m … not. It’s something I’m not used to, but I can see myself enjoying it.”
“Good. Because I have a lot of love to give, and I want to give it to you. If you’d like.”
“I’d like that. We can take it slow, if need be. Since we work together. But I’d like to get to know you more.”
“It’s official then, we’re taking it slow.” She laughed, stretching forward to kiss his cheek. “I think I’ll go start some pancakes if you’re interested?”
“Sure, that sounds good.” He watched her bounce away to the kitchen, feeling the infectious giddiness that she was radiating. She quickly whipped up some pancakes and they ate while chatting about their upcoming week, laughing about coworkers. Gerald was pleasantly full by the time they moved to the living room to begin quietly working.
Soon they fell into an easy routine. They would trade staying over at each other’s houses, spending the evenings together after trading subvert glances all day.
For once in each of their lives, a relationship was easy. Too easy, really. Kellie didn’t seem to mind his size, rather she made it normal. Guiding the waiter to a table rather than a booth, easing him into her hobbies by going on easy hikes. Expanding his taste buds under the excuse it was easier to cook for two, even though the meal portions looked like they could feed a small family.
Gerald’s happy bubble burst one morning as he tried to pull on his work pants. He knew they had been growing smaller lately, but had allowed himself to believe it was a laundry issue. But now, standing in front of his mirror, he couldn’t deny it any longer. He had definitely gained weight, and a lot of it over these few months.
He had to get it under control before the best thing he had left him over it. He resolved himself to start a diet, and even managed to stick to it for a couple days until Friday, when he decided to stay at her place for the weekend.
Kellie was draped over Gerald as they laid on the couch, one of his arms around her keeping her steady on top of him. They were watching a show, although with the occasional napping, they really weren’t watching it.
A low growl emanated from his belly, startling Kellie from her sleep.
“Whoa there.” He catches her from sliding backwards, her grip on his belly tightening. “Sorry for startling you.”
“Nah, it’s okay. Want me to make you something? There’s still some leftovers.” They had eaten earlier, but Gerald had insisted he wasn’t very hungry so there was still a fair amount of lasagna left. Without really waiting for him to answer, she started the process of detangling herself when he shook his head and tugged on her arm.
“No, I’m good. Lay back down.”
“You’re hungry though.” She said, sitting up. He followed suit, swinging his legs off the couch. Her eyes glanced down, and he realized his shirt had ridden up in the move. Pulling it back down he looked back at her, her face a practiced neutral.
“I’m not gonna starve, it's okay.”
“No, it’s not. You skipped dinner, saying your lunch was big. But it really wasn’t that big. Are you feeling ok? Maybe you’re getting sick.”
“I’m not getting sick. I’m just … trying to tone it back.”
“Why?”
“Just, you know, to shed some weight.” He said, a gruffness entering his voice from the embarrassment creeping up.
“But why? You look fine the way you are.”
“Kellie, I appreciate it but … come on. I’ve gained even more weight since dating you. It’s getting a bit out of hand.” Her breathing hitched, just barely noticeable.
“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Everyone gains relationship weight.”
“I’m almost 430 pounds! That’s a lot! And I really don’t want you to leave me when it keeps going up.”
“Leave you? Why would I leave you?” She asked, moving closer to him, but he shrank back as much as his mass would let him. “Gerald, where’s this coming from?”
“I… it’s just … every girl I’ve ever dated leaves. They all got tired of dating a fat guy. And I’m scared I’m going to lose you too. So I’m trying to lose weight.”
“Gerald, I’m not going to leave you. Especially over your size. I- I like your size.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I do. And you getting bigger isn’t a bad thing, either.”
“Come on, you don’t need to try to make me feel better.”
“Hang on.” She got up and walked over to one of the bookcases, pulling out a photo album and coming back over to him. She sat next to him, purposefully curving into his side. She opens the first page, showing a much younger Kellie with a chubby guy. “This was my first boyfriend, we were seniors in high school. Went to college together where we both blossomed. He started working out and trimmed down, which was ok. But I realized that I missed the old Kenny. The new one was … self-centered. Mean. Getting fit had become his personality. That’s why I only have this photo, because this was the version I had loved.”
“All my friends couldn’t understand why I broke up with him, since now he was “attractive”. But in thinking back on the relationship, I had realized I preferred him to be bigger. I have always loved to cook, and I guess it's my love language, but he stopped finding it enjoyable when he was trimming down.”
She flipped the next page to a graduation photo of her and a group of similar aged people.
“Senior year of college. This guy,” she pointed to a guy about 250lbs next to her, “was my boyfriend that year and for two years later. He was a great guy, super friendly and kind. He also adored my cooking and it had really showed.” She flipped the page to show the same guy, only a hundred pounds bigger.
“I had figured out in college I liked chubby guys, and dated several I don’t have pictures of, but it was Tom who unlocked a deeper satisfaction. I liked guys who were bigger than just chubby, and more specifically, I liked helping them get bigger.”
“Because of your cooking.”
“Yeah. I saw it as proof I was as good of a chef as my family members. He was living proof that even if I wasn’t in the family biz, I could still hold my own. And maybe that’s a little selfish, but Tom? He loved it too. He’s the one who gave me proper terms for what I liked, as well as introducing me to others like us. Fat admirers, feeders, gainers.”
“Ah, chubby chasers.”
“Those too, but they’re small leagues. Unfortunately, Tom had to move back home and we both mutually decided we couldn’t do a long distance relationship. But with my newfound knowledge, I sought out guys who were fat and wanted more.” She flipped the page showing two photos with her and her family, but with a non-related guy next to her in each photo.
“Before I get into him, I want to point out my family. See how eighty percent of them are overweight or obese?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s a byproduct of the profession and genetics. As far as I know I’m the only one of the kids that is a fat admirer, but honestly? We never got together to hash out preferences and kinks. Now my moms side has an interesting genetic quirk. My maternal grandma was a slim lady, until she got into her fifties at least. A naturally fast metabolism, it turns out. That trait skipped my mom and aunt, who were always battling their weight. Myself, my brother and one of my cousins all inherited it. Otherwise I’d be chubby, or bigger. And I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
She paused to look up at him. “Seriously, if I could gain, I would. But I can’t, at least not right now. I’m actually lucky I’ve managed to get the curves I have. This was Amir. He was a cool guy and adored that my family would offer him discounts at their stores. Honestly, that may be the only reason he dated me. Well, that and he loved our size contrast.”
“I’m sure he loved you for more than that. You are pretty lovable.” She just laughed, turning the page to show some shots of her hiking trips and some trips with friends. He noted a lack of Amir, but decided to not ask. Her tone had a cord of pain and he figured there was a reason for it.
“I’m not sure. He was obsessed with his goals and he insisted I worked out while he stayed home. It got almost unhealthy, the way he’d critique both of us. That’s why I broke it off, I just couldn't stand the obsession. And that’s when I realized that while I like my boys big and I loved my role in it, I wasn’t a hard-core feeder like he wanted.”
“So my next boyfriend was a normie, he was just a fat guy who was neutral about his body. Kinda like you. And like you, he gained weight. I was happy, of course, but he wasn’t. I had thought about coming clean, but he came to me to ask for my help to lose weight. And I agreed, because why wouldn’t I? It’s his body. But losing weight is hard, and he’d always beg for me to cook treats for him. Which I did, but then he’d blame me for enabling him. Eventually he put the dots together of my past relationships, accused me of being a freak and left.” She flipped through more pages, showing shots of her and a guy at some tourist spots, although the photos started phasing him out with time.
“Wow, that’s a bit harsh.”
“Yeah, a lot of unkind things were said, by both of us. But after him, I just … quit dating. Until I got a new job and spied the sexiest I.T. guy.”
“Well, I’m not sure about that.”
“But now I have to wonder if I scared him off.” She looked at him again, her eyes glistening. “I really like you, Gerald. We get along great, I feel like I could talk to you for hours about anything. And I really like the way you look, and I’ll support you either way, but you don’t need to worry about outgrowing my love. I just don't want you to think I’m a freak.”
“You’re not a freak. I’ve had my fair share of experiencing people and their preferences. I’ve just… never been somebody’s preference before. I knew there were women out there who could love me despite my size or maybe even like it. And to be honest, I’ve never cared about my weight. Sure, I’d be down after each break up, but I like food way too much to diet. And in a way, being fat is a good buffer. I don’t have to put up with the bad apples of dating.”
“That’s a good point.”
“So if you’re okay with my size, then I’ll just relax. I’m not sure what a feeder is, or anything else you mentioned, but if you say you like fat guys then I believe you.”
“You’re taking this very well…”
“I mean, we’re both adults. I’m into my fair bit of kinky shit, so I can’t blame you for yours.”
“Oh? Here I thought you were vanilla. A good ol’ country boy who believed in no sex before marriage.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s been a couple months of dating, and you’ve never tried to get past second base. Or I feared you hated your body.”
“Truthfully, I was hoping to get you completely enamored before we got naked and I scared you off. I’m … a lot bigger than I seem.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” She tossed the book on the couch and pivoted until she was pressed into the remaining portion of his lap. She started tugging on his shirt, before his stomach growled again.
“Uh, bad timing. Maybe I should take you up on dinner.”
“Actually… I have an idea. If you trust me, that is.”
“I do.”
“Good. Stay here.” She got up, walking away from him. Taking a minute to breathe, he shook his head at the way the evening had turned. It was a bit of a rollercoaster, and he was sure he’d have more questions in the morning, but he was mostly relieved. Relieved to finally talk about the elephant in the room; relieved to find out she didn’t even see a problem with his size; and relieved he didn’t have to try to diet. She came back out holding the warmed-up tray of lasagna and a silk scarf from her coat rack.
“Here, put this around your eyes.”
“Uh, okay?”
“Trust me, yeah?” He nodded, slowly bringing the smooth cloth to his eyes and tying it around his head. He was suddenly nervous, and on high alert at every noise she made. Jumping slightly, he felt her sink into the couch next to him, one hand carefully placed on his belly. “I want you to relax, focusing on just my touch and the feeling of eating.”
He felt a forkful of food brush his lips, and he carefully opened his mouth, taking the offered food. The lasagna was delicious, of course. At dinner, he had stuck to a salad and a few breadsticks, knowing once he had some of the Italian staple, his diet would be over before it had even started. The sauce was obviously homemade, with deep, robust flavors of freshly roasted tomatoes and garlic. The balance of sauce, pasta and cheese was perfect, the ingredients all complimenting each other instead of fighting for dominance.
He felt her hand begin to trace circles on his shirt covered skin, lazily switching rotation every few seconds. They got into a rhythm, him taking his time to eat and her timing the bites of food so as to not rush him. He squirmed when she pulled his shirt up, tucking the excess fabric under his moobs. He could only guess how he looked - belly spreading out on his lap and the fabric making his chest look bigger.
“Shh, shh. You look perfect, Ger. Just relax.” She started to lightly scrape his skin with her nails, staring at the top of his belly and working downwards, before moving back up. She got to his belly button, and his breathing hitched as she circled the cavern, her nails like electricity along the sensitive skin. She pressed another forkful of food to his mouth, before sliding her thumb inside his belly button, the other fingers curving down to his belly hang. Gripping as much as she could, she started lightly wobbling his belly. “Fuck, your belly moves like water. Built from years of pursuing pleasure. Undeniable proof of your ability to provide in excess. Proof you’re the best mate to take care of me.”
Her voice had dropped an octave, sending goosebumps along his skin at the raw desire in her words. He barely resisted her pulling his shirt over his head, although he couldn’t stop his hips bucking when a finger brushed over one of his nipples.
“Oh, fuck me.” He sighed, feeling her lick the other nipple.
“All in good time, don't worry.” She replied, pulling away to reach up and remove his blindfold. He blinked against the light, first noting how wide her pupils were and secondly, noting the empty tray of lasagna on the table. He groaned, feeling the weight of the food in his belly. “You did such a good job, eating all of that for me. You must’ve been starving. A big boy like you needs all the food he can get.”
She started rubbing circles along his sides, the relief immediate. He grabbed at her lower back, pulling her flush against him. He let his hand slide lower, cupping her round ass as she ground her hips into him.
“Maybe we should take this somewhere else.” She got up, staying in range of his hand. She pulled off her shirt, letting his eyes roam freely over her skin. She took a step backwards, unbuttoning her pants. With each step, she pulled them down further, all the while watching him slowly shift forward, trying to ease into standing with how full he was. He grunted as he stood up, one hand pushing into his belly to try to rub the same spot she had.
She turned, giving him a clear view of her ass as she led the way to her bedroom. He followed, feeling both drunk from the fullness and high from the blood rushing south. She directed him to lay down, letting him get situated before pouncing onto the bed next to him.
“You’re still a bit overdressed.” She tapped his thigh and he reached down to unbutton his jeans with another grunt. Or, tried to, at least. Between the angle of laying back and how little give he had around his belly, he was coming up short. She chuckled, her hands brushing his away. “Damn, you’re too cute like this. Hips up, big guy.”
She slid his jeans off, pausing to take his full body in. He blushed under her gaze, feeling a burning trail where her eyes landed.
“Your thighs are massive, and strong. Must’ve been a football player, right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Oh, you just have that look of an ex-athlete.”
“I’ll have you know I was a fat athlete.”
“Mmm, even better. A true glutton.” She crawled up further, straddling his hips. He groaned as he felt her crotch rest against his. “Getting excited there, big guy?”
“And who’s fault is that?”
“Can’t be me, I’m an angel.”
“Makes sense, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen heaven yet.” She wrapped each hand around his love handles and began grinding her hips into his. His hands shot to her thighs, trying to pull her more flush against him. “So tell me about your kinks. What gets you off?”
“Ah, fuck, domination. Bondage. Whips.”
“Oh, you like to throw around your weight? Make me behave?”
“Or not. I like both.”
“Oh, oh. I see. You like to be told what to do, huh? This could be real fun.” She leaned over him, careful to keep the pressure off his belly. He groaned at the lack of contact, making her laugh. “Nope, I’m in control.”
“Don’t tease me too much.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your reward if you're a good boy.” She smiled, leaning forward to lick his neck. She gently bit his ear, shifting her body to one side of his belly to keep him comfortable. He used one hand to stroke her body, his fingers settling on the strap of her bra. “Alright, since you’ve behaved so far.”
Sitting back on her haunches, she holds one arm across her chest and deftly unclasped her bra with the other. Discarding the lingerie while still keeping her arm in place, she scooted away from his hands trying to pull at her.
With a growl and a quickness she wasn’t expecting, he lunged towards her. With one arm snatching her waist and pulling her down, he twisted them until he was over her. He kept himself up with one arm, his belly resting gently on her stomach.
“Oh my…” She let her hands fall from her chest and used them to rub the expanse of his middle while he gazed down at her. “I’m not terribly well-endowed-”
He broke off words with a kiss, pressing her into the bed. He pulled away and used his free hand to cup her chest.
“A perfect handful in my opinion.” He pinched and rolled her nipple, smiling as she pressed her head back and moaned. His arm was beginning to shake, so he rolled to her side. “Oof, guess those twenty pounds really makes the difference.”
“A great difference, in my opinion. That’s okay, this works too. She rolled closer to him, cupping his face before gently kissing him. She ran one hand down his chest and belly, dipping it lower. She grinned against his mouth as he gasped, her fingers wrapping around the prize. She felt his hand moving under her, so she lifted her body slightly, humming as he slid his hand into her underwear.
Soon enough they were both breathing heavily and she lifted her body over him to open the bedside table drawer. He helped as much as he could to pull his boxers down and she ripped the package with her teeth. Smiling at him, she slid the latex over him and finished taking off her clothes.
“You ready?”
“Yeah, just take your time. It’s been a while for me.”
“It has for me, too.” She used his belly for stability as she slowly slid over him, taking her time as she sank lower. Once seated, she groaned his name as her body adjusted around him. “You’re a lot thicker than other guys, not to mention those hidden inches.”
“You’re right, I’m definitely in heaven now. You’re so tight, I need a minute to breathe.” He closed his eyes, trying to think of anything to keep himself from ending the night early. Once ready, he grabbed her thighs, squeezing them to let her know he was good. She slowly raised up before sinking down, her breathing hitching as she focused on starting a rhythm.
“How do you feel about dirty talk? Teasing?” She panted, opening one eye to look at him.
“Go for it.”
“Look at you, laying back and letting me work for it. Stuffed and complacent while I- while I work hard. So spoiled from the look of you." She leaned forward, both of them groaning at the change of angle. She cupped his chest, minimking him earlier, with the exception his moob overflowed her hand. “Look at you, moobs bigger than my tits. Powerful thighs bigger than my waist.”
“Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to make you even bigger. I want your belly to flow over your lap, hanging between your knees while you sit back. Make that double chin a triple.” She pauses talking, her rhythm picking up as she gets caught up in the fantasy. She grabs one on his hands, and moves it to his belly. “Grab yourself, feel how soft you are. Don’t you feel how crazy your size makes me right now?”
He did as instructed, letting her guide his hand around himself. Between her movements and words, he could feel himself reaching the climax as he groped his fat. He began to wobble his belly, using the heft to push against her each time she lowered herself.
“Hell yeah, use that belly of yours, fatty, since you can’t actually reach me.” He gasped, calling out her name. She felt him climax, and leaned back so she could properly bottom-out. He heard her cry out above him, feeling her spasm, before she collapsed next to him, her legs still twitching. “I can’t believe you were holding out on me for two months. That was amazing.”
“Right back at you.” He easily pulled her closer to him, wanting to feel her warm skin still. She laid her head on his chest, one leg swinging over his.
“Was the teasing okay? I can really let go at times, half the time I don't even know what I’m saying.”
“It was great, really. I’ve never had that before, but I kinda like it. The name calling is different when you do it.”
“It’s never from a bad place, trust me. If you don’t ever like a term, just tell me. I know sometimes certain names can hold a lifetime's worth of pain.”
“Thankfully, I was never really bullied. Being the biggest linebacker on the team really kept the idiots quiet. As an adult, my sheer size helps the comments be kept at bay.”
“I’m glad to hear it. People can be rough.”
“They can, but then there are some pretty amazing people that make up for it. Like you. I… I love you, Kellie. And that’s not the post sex endorphins, either.”
“I love you too, Gerald. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“I’m here to stay. You’re stuck with me now, especially when you don't need me for tech help anymore.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” She laughed, gently head butting his forehead.
“Never.” He laughed, hugging her tighter against him. “Since I am no longer on a diet, what do you say about going out for breakfast in the morning?”
“I know of this great breakfast buffet…” She trailed off, peeking up at him through her lashes.
“Sounds perfect to me.”
_-_-_
Several years had passed since that night, and as their ten year anniversary approached, it was safe to say he was officially her feedee.
He had happily gone along with the first few weekend feeding sessions, to the point he started looking forward to them and requesting certain foods as they continued. Kellie was thrilled to have an eager and willing partner, and they found ways to involve their other kinks.
Like one night he had tied her up with beautiful shibari knots, and acted like he was a gluttonous robber who broke into her bakery so he could clean out her wares.
Another weekend, she had him take on the role of the sub, to the point he spent a good portion of the weekend on his knees in front of her, eating for her sheer pleasure.
He proposed to her on a quiet Wednesday night, knowing she wouldn’t like anything fancy or a big production. He had hid the ring box under his belly, knowing she would push her hand under there eventually for warmth, only this time she pulled out the velvet box with a confused look. Looking back, it was incredibly cheesy. But she had loved it, admitting she had been checking his pockets for a few weeks after they went window shopping at the jewelers.
The wedding had been perfect - their families and friends blended wonderfully and everyone was supportive. Of course, the food and cake was amazing - catered by some of her family as the wedding gift - and no one had batted an eye as he had his fill while she watched from the dance floor. The honeymoon had been a foodie’s wet dream - an extended stay in New Orleans.
They didn't focus on his exact weight too much, rather focusing on enjoying the journey. Although they had been thrilled when he passed the big 500, and had spent a weekend celebrating. Having kids, and generally life as a whole, had kept his weight below 550 but he was ready to cross that threshold.
“Alright, we are officially alone. My parents just pulled away with the kids for a long sleepover.” Kellie said, pulling him from his thoughts. She sat down next to him on the ever-shrinking couch, and hugged as much of him as she could.
“Mmm, we’ll have to thank them with a spa weekend.”
“Is it bad that the first thing I want to do is sleep?” She laughed, sighing as he quietly rumbled with laughter.
“I know how you feel. But there’s one problem.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve spent ten years making me absolutely ravenous, and I can’t stop now. Not when I know your famous five-layer cake is in the fridge and our favorite lasagna is almost finished.”
“Mmm, you’re right. No time to sleep. Not when my five-hundred-and-forty-six pound chubby hubby is starving. Can’t have you wasting away on me now.”
“Once I hit the big 5-5-0 the risk of me wasting away greatly diminishes. Look, you can feel my ribs.” He teased, grabbing her hand to press into his sides, making a point to frown dramatically. “Wait, try here… or here… they’re somewhere under all this fat.”
She broke out into laughter, her hand sinking into a plush layer of fat every time.
“You’re such a dork.”
“But I’m your dork.”
“That you are.” She cradled his face in both her hands, kissing him gently and pulling away as his hands began to pull on her hips. “Come on, let's go eat dinner before we take dessert to the bedroom.”
She stood, holding out her hands to him to help steady him as he slowly stood, although they both knew she mostly liked to watch the way his belly jiggled to a rest against his thighs. Who knew what the next ten years could bring? But she knew no matter what, she wanted it with him.
It was at precisely 4:59 Grady realized 2 things: today was valentine's day, and he had forgotten. Casting a betrayed look at the handheld supercomputer that could do everything but hold five bars of reception and remind him of the love holiday, he quickly set about calling every one of their favorite restaurants. Then their second choices. Then, any restaurant in the damned city.
And at 5:17, he knew he was irrevocably, and completely, fucked.
And not in the way he had hoped for.
Slipping free of work early, he racked his brain for anything all while wondering how he had gone almost 10 hours without realizing what today was.
He sat in his car, a very rough plan coming together, when he spied a hole-in-the-wall gift shop. With little to no other options, he hurried inside. Trinkets of all sizes lined shelves, and he was quickly overwhelmed by all the options yet nothing he knew Anita would like.
"Hi, welcome to Odds and Ends, how can I help you?" A smiling gray-haired lady said, watching him.
"To be honest, I forgot what today was. I think I have dinner, dessert and flowers figured out but I need a gift." He said, rubbing the back of his neck as she chuckled. She moved around the counter and glanced around the shop.
"Of course. And don't worry, you're not the first person to forget today. Just don't forget the big dates. What are you looking for, something fun? Sexy? Sentimental?"
"Uh... fun and sexy?"
"OK, any idea what your partner likes?"
"She's pretty ... vanilla? Not really too crazy in bed. Maybe she'd like a teddy bear more." He said, looking away from the wall of toys.
"I guarantee she's not the missionary maiden you think she is. She just might need some ... help." The shop owner walked over to a cabinet of creams and liquids, carefully pulling out a bottle of a creamy pink lotion. "Here, for you and your wife. Both of you massage this into each other before sex."
“What is it?" He asked, turning the tube over in his hand.
"Oh, it's like a long term aphrodisiac."
"It'll last the whole night?" He asked, glancing up at her.
"Definitely. You'll have enough for you and her. Don't worry about trying to save some for next time. If you like it, I can make more.”
“You make it in house?”
“I do. Don't worry, it's all natural and perfectly safe.”
“Oh, okay. Nice. Do you think this is a good enough gift? Or should I get something else?”
“Well, if this works like I expect it to, she may enjoy one of our couples sex toy kits. It has fuzzy handcuffs, blindfold, satin whip and some nipple clamps. It's a wide range that can help you both enjoy the night.” Graddy coughed, trying to not blush as he glanced over at the toy pack.
“Sounds good to me. Thanks, you've been a life saver.”
“Not a problem, I love helping couples realize they're desires. Let’s get you checked out and on your way home.”
Grady left the store, walking quickly to his car. As nice as the owner was … something about the encounter unsettled him. Maybe he shouldn’t have bought an unknown lotion from her…
Once he got home and found a bag for her gifts, he got straight into the kitchen.
He started marinating the steak and boiling potatoes, sticking with a classic meat and potatoes style dish he knew she liked. He also got shrimp for her, knowing she liked them but rarely ate them since he didn't.
While everything was waiting for the next stage, he whipped up a batter of pâte à choux for cream puffs. She had always loved cream puffs for some reason, so tonight she was getting the delicate pastries with a honey cream.
Just as he slid the cream puffs into the oven, he heard Anita walk inside.
"I'm home!" She calls, dropping her keys on the table and kicking off her heels.
"Hey, I'm in the kitchen!" She walked through the door, and Grady turned to smile at her. “Hey there, beautiful. Happy valentines day."
"I thought you forgot! You didn't text plans or anything.” She said, walking over to him, a delighted smile on her face.
"Of course not! That was part of my diversion. I decided I wanted to cook for you, just like our first date.” He said, reaching out to wrap her in a hug before pressing a kiss to her lips.
“Ooh, I like it. What are we having?” She asked, looking around his shoulder at the stove.
“For an appetizer, I have some salad and breadsticks. For the main course: ribeye steak, garlic herb mashed potatoes, some sautéed shrimp for you, and roasted balsamic carrots. For dessert, honey creme cream puffs. I also bought red wine that was recommended by the store clerk, so no promises on that.”
“That all sounds amazing. Need help?”
“Nope. Your job is to go take a long hot shower, and get dressed up for your candlelight dinner at Casa de Hodge.”
“OK, if you're sure”
“I am. Now go, relax. I expect to be done in about thirty. Will that work?”
"Yeah, I can work with that.” She smiled and kissed him one last time before heading out of the kitchen to their room. Grady slides back into cooking mode, sliding food in and out of the oven. He wasn’t a great cook, but he knew a few dishes very well.
As his thirty minutes ticked down, he paused to set the table and light some candles to set the mood, before slowly bringing out the small feast. Just as he uncorked the wine, he heard Anita walk up behind him.
Turning to look at her, his breath caught in his throat just the way it did on their wedding day.
She was dressed in a semi-sheer black lace dress, with her hair slicked back and stilettos.
“You look amazing. I just want to skip dinner and head straight to dessert.” She blushed the way she usually does, and reached out to playfully swat his arm.
“All in good time, love. I got this dress just for you, what do you think?”
“I love it, but I’ll love it on the floor even more.” He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking at her skin. Her giggles turned into a low moan and he desperately wanted to carry her to bed, dinner be damned. But his stomach growled and she laughed, pulling away with a sparkle in her eyes.
“Sounds like you need to eat and get your energy stored up before you ravish me.” She said, her hand resting on his stomach. He fought the need to suck his stomach in - the twenty pounds of marriage feeling obvious on his waist. But he knew she would never view him as less than, so he buried his insecurities for the night.
“And heaven knows I’ll need it once you open your gift.”
“Oh?”
“You’ll see later. Your seat, madam?” He asked, pulling her seat out with a flourish. She giggled, curtseying to him before sitting and letting him push the chair in. He sat across from her and they both began loading their plates with salad and bread, making small talk about work and plans for the weekend.
As they finished their salad, he brought out the main course from the warmed oven and she watched, delighted, as he served them both. The wine wasn’t too bad, although Anita had liked it more so than Grady. Her skin was flushed and she was looking at him with heated eyes.
“Why don’t we move this to the bedroom?” She purred, tilting her head and running a hand from her neck to her chest. That was as much of an invitation as he needed, even if he was stuffed full. They both rushed to the bedroom, giggling before he called out to her to wait. He turned and half-jogged to the living room where he grabbed her gift before hurrying back to their room.
He paused, looking over Anita - she had stripped down to a lacy lingerie and was laying on the bed. She passed him his gift first, and he ripped the paper open to find a new watch.
“Thank you! It’s an amazing quality.
“You’re welcome! I noticed your old one was starting to break, so I got you an upgrade.” He carefully lifted it from the case and looked over it, noting the high quality craftsmanship that went into it.
“It’s perfect, thank you. Here’s your gift, my love.” She took the bag and opened it. She gasped, quickly shutting the bag to look at him. “What?” He laughed, sitting on the bed as well.
“You went to a sex shop?!”
“Well, it was a gift shop with sexy items. But come on, look inside!” She opened the bag back up, pulling out the fuzzy handcuffs with a laugh. The whip got an embarrassed cough, as did the nipple clamps. She got to the lotion and held it up with a questioning glance. “That’s a lotion with some aphrodisiac effects. I think it gets warm, or heightens our skin?”
“Oh, that could be fun. Thank you for the gifts, they look like a fun introduction to some spicy playtime.” She leaned over to kiss him, and he deepened the kiss, slowly pushing her back until she was underneath him. “Want to massage me with the lotion first?”
“Sure. But, uh, I’ll need you to get a little less covered.” She smiled, still traces of her shy self, as she raised her upper body and pulled off her bra. He held her pull off her underwear and he paused to take her in. “You look beautiful, Anita. I wish I could look at you every minute of the day.”
“We’d never get anything done.”
“I know, and I accept that.” He uncapped the lotion and poured some in his hand, pre-warming it before starting to rub it into her skin. He started at her legs, slowly working upwards and paying attention to her hips and breasts. “Do you feel anything yet?”
She looked at him, her pupils blown wide and nodded, letting out a shiver under him. He raised his eyebrow and looked back at the tube, surprised it even worked. He let out a yelp and she quickly sat up and pulled him down, sliding over the top of him. She yanked his shirt open, sending the buttons flying and quickly de-clothed him. He was shocked - but also aroused by her eagerness. He could barely recall the last time she initiated anything, or at least with this much passion.
She took the lotion and began rubbing it into his skin, paying attention to his thighs, midsection and chest. Wherever she touched, his skin tingled until it was the only thing he could think of.
He wasn’t thinking about the way her hands kneaded his stomach, or the way she tried to cup his pecs. He didn’t even care enough to be worried about homemade lotion that made him feel high and drunk at the same time.
She pulled out the handcuffs he had bought her, quickly cuffing his hands to the head board. He flinched as she clamped his nipples, letting out something that was between a groan and a moan.
“Don’t go anywhere, my little cream puff.” He noted her absence but he was so lost in the way his head was spinning, he couldn’t care. He didn’t protest when she pressed cream puff by cream puff past his lips. He barely registered her riding him, although he did remember the firework show going off in his head while she fed him the last cream puff as he came. A part of him knew he had eaten way too much to not be feeling full, but he didn’t dwell on it long before passing out.
_-_-_
He woke up with a pounding head and stiff limbs, feeling as if he was under several weighted blankets.
“Last time I bought that wine, damn.” He groused, rubbing his face with cumbersome arms. Trying to sit up, he got a quarter of the way before laying back down, puzzled at the resistance he was experiencing. He rubbed his eyes a few times, trying to clear away the weird fog in them.
“What is going on?” He narrowed his eyes, his vision sharpening slightly. Glasses, an internal voice prompted him. He reached for his bedside table and patted around until he found them. Now that he could see, he glanced down and had to fight another wave of panic.
“I’m huge! What the hell?” He poked the expanse of flesh, confirming that yes, it was real and yes, it was him. His brain slowly turned until the answer came to him just like before. Must’ve had the ‘skinny’ dreams again. I’ve been this big for a few years now.
He started the process of sitting up, relying on muscle memory as for some reason his brain just wasn’t working with him today. Almost like he just woke up this big, which is impossible. He slowly worked his legs over the edge of the bed, the fat laden limbs thumping to the floor faster than he remembers.
Pausing at the next step of getting up, he tries to just sit up but of course that goes nowhere. He eventually tried to roll first onto his side, then push himself up which was successful enough that he was finally upright. His back was pulled forward by a good fifteen degrees as his belly flowed between his legs, resembling an avalanche as it raced to gravity’s embrace. He was already panting, a thin sheen of sweat gathering in the folds of his back, and he was glad it would be washing day tomorrow.
Wait, washing day? Oh, right. After I’d gotten too fat to stand in the shower safely, we had to remodel. Even then, it took too long to wash all of me, so Anita helped me shower every few days.
“Anita?” He called, and he heard her immediate footsteps.
“Hey, love. You got up on your own! Good thing I cooked a big breakfast for you.” She cooed, walking over to pet his sides.
“I… When…”
“You okay?”
“My head feels fuzzy.”
“Hmm, maybe mixing your medications with that wine last night was a bad idea. You’ll need to drink plenty of water today, okay?”
“Okay. Help me up?”
“Of course.” She moved in front of him, and he could see the muscles on her arms, and the abs peeking between her crop top and shorts. When did she get so ripped?
She helped him stand, and guided him to the couch, before quickly bringing him out a huge spread for breakfast. The day passed in a weird haze, and every time he looked at the photos on the wall, they seemed to shimmer, but they always reflected what he remembered: him, slowly increasing in size, and Anita squeezing into frame. Their wedding photo hung above the TV, showing him sitting on a sturdy bench as she stood behind him with a radiant smile. She had looked amazing that day, and they had been surrounded by their best and most supportive friends.
He chuckled at the thought of them having a larger wedding, and especially a honeymoon where the destination wasn’t somewhere with a golden corral.
By the end of the day his weird migraine and fuzziness was gone, and he was eagerly waiting for dinner as he read the new book series she had given him for Valentines Day.
“Hey Grady?” She called, popping her head into the living room.
“Hmm?”
“Where did you say you got that lotion from? I think we used that whole tube last night on your belly.”
“It was that little gift shop over on 5th Avenue… Odds & Ends, I think?”
“Weird, maybe I didn’t see the shop earlier. I’ll check again tomorrow.” She walked closer, sitting on the armrest of his loveseat. “How are the books?”
“They’re fantastic, thanks baby.” He said, smiling at her. He’d always been a bot of a bookworm rather than an athletic type. That probably accounted for his propensity to gain weight, exercising just not coming natural to him.
“We’ll have to rewatch the series once you’re done, and compare notes. Alright, dinner will be done in about fifteen.”
“I’m starving.” He smiled up at her, and she patted his belly while laughing.
(First person POV, genderless, stuffing, public exhibition, mentions of judgment/shame)
You're nervous as you walk in, and you swear every pair of eyes are on you as you quietly ask for a table, not a booth.
Unfortunately, the tables are all front and center, so there's no hiding in a corner this time.
You shed your jacket, feeling your shirt ride up a bit. With a firm tug downwards, you head to the buffet tables.
My text hangs in the back of your head, especially the directive to stuff yourself until something - your button, the chair or your stomach - breaks.
Stopping at the salad bar long enough to grab a bowl of ranch, you move on. Wings, nuggets, ribs. Fries, onion rings, fried pickles. That'll do for your first plate. You set the food down and quickly go back for two large drinks, not bothering with ice since it doesn't have calories anyways.
This repeats two more times, and you can feel more stares on you each time you get up and return with more food.
Your fifth, sixth and seventh plates go down with effort. Is it hot in here? You guzzle your soda, and feel a few splatters down your chin and onto your shirt. The prickles of shame run down your back, followed by a wave of pleasure.
You stand up, one hand bracing yourself on the table and you waddle back to the buffet. Your shirt has ridden up, exposing that wobbly underhang, and you catch some people's shocked expressions.
Your eighth and ninth plates are dessert, loaded high with cake, ice cream and pie. These are harder to force down, but you slowly trudge forward.
The fork chatters to the plate and you lean back, two hands on your belly. Rubbing, soothing the stretched dome. You are idly aware of the other diners and the employees watching you, but nothing matters right now other than soothing your gut.
It isn't until employees clear the table, wiping it down around the fat spilling onto the surface, that you finally stagger upright, waddling out outside while stifling your burps.
You wait in the car, glad your belly has the space in the passenger seat.
I open the door, sliding into the driver's seat and you can hear the smile in my voice.
"Good job, tubby. Nine whole plates!" I reach over and join your hands, massaging at the stretched skin. My hand drifts lower, digging under your belly and and I pull back with a smirk. "You popped the button." Younopen your eyes to see me put the putting on the apex of your belly.
You groan, your head falling back.
"Good thing, too. Now you have extra room for a milkshake." I say, putting the car in reverse. You think about refusing... but a milkshake does sound pretty good.
"Oh, and you're waddling inside for it." My laughter cuts over your groan, but you know your day of exhibition isn't over just yet.
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Lily uploaded her newest photoset and sat back in her chair, humming with delight as the likes started rolling in.
She had never planned on monetizing her body, but she couldn't deny that the money was good. Especially the niche markets. All she did was gain a good twenty pounds, bought some skimpy fast-fashion outfits, and shake her new curves on video.
Easy money.
She was pretty much at her max weight she wanted to be at, but with some creative posing and lighting she could make it seem like she was bigger.
A notification popped up for a DM, the profile picture showing a gorgeous woman dressed in some strappy lingerie. Lily bit her lip, a pang of jealousy at her dream body - toned belly, full breasts and shapely hips.
She clicked on the profile, expecting a blank bot blog but instead found it full of videos of this woman with other fat women, doing things even pornstars would blush at. A feeder, it seemed.
Quickly going back to the message, her eyes race across the screen:
Hey there sexy ;) I've been keeping my eye on you and I have to say I love what I see. Would you be down to do a collab?
She sucked in a shaky breathe, considering the offer. While she considered herself bi-curious, it'd been years since her last sapphic encounter.
Why, thank you :3 I'd love to meet up! But are you sure I'm big enough?
The reply was instant.
Of course I'm sure. I love babes of all sizes. And some of my videos are SFX transformations, so not all are SSBBWs. Oh, and call me Seraphine.
They continued to chat over the next couple of weeks, feeling each other out and seeing if they would mesh well. Lily even found herself admitting she didn't like gaining per sey, and found Seraphine's body to be perfect.
Seraphine eased her mind, soothing her worries that the weight was permanent. That what she was doing wasn't morally gray.
And soon enough, a plane ticket across the country was in her email.
The first few days were a whirlwind of attention lavished upon Lily. Seraphine was a perfect lady, never forcing her past any limits and giving plenty of compliments. It almost made Lily is she was a real feedee to appreciate it more.
"I can't believe the week is almost over." Lily sighed, wrapped in Seraphine's arms on the couch.
"I know, its been wonderful having you here. We've filmed some great content, too. Maybe you should move in." She teased, nibbling at her ear.
"Mmm, that would be fun. Maybe you should make me an offer."
"Gladly." Seraphine started kissing her neck, easily rolling them over and soon Lily was screaming into her mouth, Seraphine grinning as her fingers worked her to orgasm twice on the couch and then again in bed.
The next morning, Lily was slowly waking up, sensing the empty spot next to her. She smiled slightly, wondering what final breakfast Seraphine was making for her.
She tried to rub her eyes but found her arms couldn't reach her eyes. She opened them fully, glancing up to see she was handcuffed to the bed.
"What- Seraphine!"
"Oh, good. You're awake." She purred, leaning on the door jam.
"Come on, I don't have time for this. My flight leaves in a few hours."
"I know. But you aren't actually going home." Lily felt her body go cold, her stomach twisting in sudden fear. "Fuck, I love that look."
"Please, this isn't funny." Lily begged, her voice turning shrill as she tugged her wrists until they ached.
"Oh, I think it is. I also think it's funny how you are leading people on, showing off that little belly and shaking your tits while using meal replacement shakes as theyre actually intended. Now, I admire the hustle. I really do. But what I love more is ruining plans."
"I don't understand..."
"Here, this may help." Seraphine started slowly walking to the bed, her figure transforming with each step. Her skin changed to a deep red, her eyes turning as black as her hair. A long forked tail swished behind her and wben she smiled, sharp teeth glistened at Lily. Her curves were more pronounced, as she was the image of pure carnal desire.
Lily was struck silent from fear, opening and closing her mouth.
"My foolish human, how amusing you are to me! Whole my kind normally goes after the sex crazed, I like playing with the hedonists. Pushing them over their limits, dragging them far past the point of return.
"But you, my dear, are like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Well, not a wolf. Maybe a goat? It doesn't matter. You are playing a dirty little game on those fatties, and I like being the only one to play games."
"I'm not hurting anyone!"
"No, but you're taking their money. Money which could go to food to keep them in gluttonous sin. Really, you're bad for the bottom line."
"What are you going to do?"
"Since you are so good at playing as a fat girl, I'm going to push you over the threshold, into true irreversible obesity. And your body will love it."
She begins chanting, her voice dropping several octaves as Lily feels her body grow hot.
Her belly was the first to fall prey to the curse, slowly inflating as if she was bloated, and then rolls began to form, quickly billowing and folding over.
Not to be outdone her hips quickly packed on weight, flaring out and quivering as she struggled with her cuffs. Her thighs also fattened up, growing thighs that rubbed to her knees, a fat roll folding over each kneecap. Her calves turned into cankles, swallowing her once dainty feet.
Her breasts inflated, sagging to the side and losing the perkiness they once held. Her arms were slowly growing heavy wings of fat, and the cuffs began digging into her fatter wrists.
Lily was so focused on the changes, tears streaming down her puffy face, she didn't see Seraphine filming her transformation.
"Please... please stop. Change me back."
"That's it, beg more for me." Seraphine cooed, walking closer. Lily locked eyes with the camera, realizing those "SFX" videos had been real.
And she was the next one to be featured.
"Congrats, you've tripled your weight!" The succubus snickered, shutting the camera off. Her hands roamed the now obese woman's body, pinching rolls and jiggling mounds of fat. "Hmm, at least 550lbs... probably closer to 600..."
"Please... I don't want this."
"I know, that's the fun of it. But your body responds so well." Seraphine began gently stroking the wobbling flesh of her inner thighs, before plunging her hand in between them. The other hand quickly found her stretched out areola, rolling her nipple between hot fingers.
Against her best attempts, Lily couldn't help her physical reactions. Her mind screamed in anguish, but it came out as a breathy moan, making the devil above her smirk.
"Good girl... now, eat." Her forked tail appeared over her shoulder, a twinkle speared on the end.
Lily managed to glare at her as her mouth opened, checking as the cream filled pastry was shoved deep into her mouth.
This continued for seemingly hours, Lily losing count of twinkies, donuts and cupcakes pushed past her lips as Seraphine slowly rewired her arousal with being fed.
Ensuring that Lily could never have another vanilla orgasm again. Well, only if the vanilla was a flavor of cake.
Lily passed out eventually, the mental torment and physical toll finally culminating in sheer exhaustion.
Seraphine grinned, sliding her hands free of the obese woman. She felt the swell of power within her, another soul having lost to gluttony and hedonism. Even if it was a bit forced.
Sge transported them both back to Lily's apartment, the bed groaning under its new owner. Thanks to that last little binge, once Lily would waddle her way onto a big enough scale, it would read a very stereotypical 666lbs.
The demon had a twisted sense of humor, afterall.
The new USSBBW would find she was far past any way of losing weight; she'd never be cleared for surgery because she wouldn't be able to lose the initial required weight in the first place. She had played with fire, and gotten roasted. Now her only hope was to continue as a fetish model (inspiring other feedees) and to find a non-demonic feeder to help her out.
With one last look at her handiwork, Seraphine telephoned back to her house, her phone already out and on her next targets' profile.
He was a star athlete in school, always securing the win for his team. He even was known in his town as a hero, for having saved a boy from drowning in the pool at his stereotypical lifeguard job.
His college career looked bright, since he was quickly signed to a well-loved college football team and his tuition paid for.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn't.
One mistep, one fumble, bottom of a dog pile.
He was told he'd be lucky to walk again, forget about playing anything more than catch. And just like that, his future vanished. Gone were the girls, gone were the people he called friends.
Some would say the silver lining of the accident was that he had to learn who he was, but Jasper would disagree. He missed his life, he missed being #1 on and off the field.
He still wanted to be a champion; that goal had been pounded into him practically since birth, and it wasn't like he could stop it now.
So now he found things to throw himself into; tournaments to conquer, competitions to win.
First were table top games, memorizing winning combos and studying other decks. Then came things like animal photography, were he just had to lay in wait, with local wildlife parks suiting his needs rather than intense hikes that aggravated his stitched muscles.
And so he began to tick off hobbies one by one, until he got to one that seemed like an obvious win: competitive eating.
He fondly recalled the carb loading of his youth, the seemingly endless hole he had in his gut. Easy.
Only to find, it wasn't that easy. The first competition? He didn't even finish. The second he didn't even get in the top ten.
It was clear he needed to get serious.
He grabbed a grocery cart, and started going up and down the aisles, looking for easy to consume foods in large quantities. He needed to expand his capacity, and he figured brute force was the best method. He chose a wide array of food, chosung things he knew he'd like as well as things that would just take up room. He also bought plenty of coke and mentor, inspired by some late night YouTube videos.
And with all things, he threw himself into the challenge. Not a day went by that he wasn't stuffed to the gills and stumbling to bed.
This is where he made two grievous errors from tunnel vision: one, he failed to realize that the repeat winners were all thin, by relying on water bloats; and two, the competitors all fasted in the days after.
This, of course, had results, especially now that he was post-college and in a steady office type job.
His belly went from constantly firm to having a layer of give around it, and then developing a hang underneath the firm sphere that was always squishy.
Initially, this did not concern him. He still had the mentality of bulking and cutting, so to him it was just an extended dirty bulk.
Except unlike bulks, he never cycled to cutting that bulk.
Instead, he focused on the next several months worth of competitions scattered around his home state, traveling for extended weekends to go to BBQ comps in the south, or cheese themed comps in the north. Hell, he even managed to fit in four state fairs, increasing the hot dogs consumed with each attempt.
He ended his second year of competing by breaking not only the top 10, but the top 5 in every single competition.
But it wasn't good enough.
It was beginning to consume his life. And his waist.
His long time friends with benefits stopped returning his calls when every date started with buffet trips and ended with him beached on the bed. His dating profiles started attracting a certain, ahem, category of lovers; the type of women who would stare starry eyed as he plowed through five, six, SEVEN plates of food, not minding when they had to do all the work by the nights end.
He even found that they pushed him harder, always making sure he was stuffed and even subsidizing his "training". He kept a few women on rotation, sometimes even having coma inducing four-ways where he was treated like a god of gluttony.
He wasn't attracted to his own billowing waistline, the ever increasing ball of lard on his frame did nothing for his libido.
No, what he truly loved, was winning bronze medals. And if becoming a "feedee" was how he got those medals (and ultimately, gold) then how could he say no?
It was Bianca's idea to make him a blog to document not only his intense stuffing but also his gain. The attention was added motivation, and he found he would get that heady rush he used to get when he ran onto the field, hundreds of fans screaming his name.
Fuck, it made him hard.
Bianca was in charge of filming him; Lana was in charge of cooking (she called herself a "feeder"); and Penny was on camera with him, gently whispering in his ear how impressive he was, stroking his ego as she stroked his belly.
He felt like a god sitting in Mount Olympus.
By his third year, he was getting silver medals easily, and he was an earth-shaking 480lbs.
His feeders slowly dwindled to just one, Bianca. The others still cheered him on, but they had moved on to new conquests, something he understood. They had grown closer, and soon she sported an engagement band on her finger, plans on marriage on the horizon.
It was the night before his biggest comp yet, and he was half reclined in bed, Bianca curled into his side.
She hadn't escaped the effects of his lifestyle, some extra padding making her softer, more comforting. It was something he had been surprised to like, but now he wouldn't dream of going back.
"Nervous for tomorrow?"
"A bit." He admitted, no longer afraid to show his weakness with her. Some of his ego had been stripped back with age and wisdom, althoughhe was still just as boisterous and confident. "I just want to win. It's been a long time coming."
"I know, you've worked so hard. But it will be good to see you win, and sweep the season."
"You're confident." He smirked, leaning in to kiss her softer jaw.
"I am, only because I have a new skill for you to conquer." She sighed, pulling away to sit up next to him. He carefully adjusted his bulk to look at her, sensing the serious undertone.
"Oh yeah?" He asked, watching her get up and pad over to the closet. She quickly reappeared, holding a very large t-shirt. Standing in front of him, she carefully held it out for him to read the design.
"#1 Dad. And I expect you to earn it."
"What? You're kidding."
"No, I made sure three times this morning. Jasper!" She yelled in shock, not expecting him to move so fast and pull her onto him. He pulled her fave close enough for him to kiss her, letting him roll tgem sideways. "Are you happy?"
"Incredibly happy. I love you."
"I love you too. Now, I think you need one last soda bloat to make sure you're in top shape." She said, kissing his nose before getting up again.
"Yes ma'am."
Afterall, he could say no to his trainer. No champion would.
(I may return to this later and expand it. I want to pursue an ex-athlete/overconfident and driven mindset, and expand (ha) on Jaspers change in personality more. Plus writing a 4-way scene)
It didn't really matter why Micah had sought out the witch, or even how he had gotten there.
No, all that really mattered was what he was going to do now that he couldn't move.
~ 6 hours earlier ~
Micah checked the address scrawled on a gum wrapper, glancing up at the long overgrown road. The forest was so dense, the road appeared to plunge into the pitch dark despite it being a sunny fall day.
Maybe he shouldn't have found a witch's address off the dark web for $50, and he probably shouldn't have driven overnight to get here.
But, c'est la vie.
He turned his car onto the dirt road, driving slowly as the daylight faded. He nudged his heater on, even though the heat couldn't beat the chill going down his spine.
"Ah!" A black cat dashed across the road, making him slam on his brakes. His heart was thumping and he peered over his hood, sighing as a black tail appeared over his bumper before slinking away. He kept his eyes peeled as he continued to drive, constantly checking each side if the road.
He drove another twenty minutes, beginning to wonder just how long this driveway was, until finally the darkness lessened and he pulled onto a gravel pathway to an old, Gothic style house. The deep maroon planks were peeling from age, and he could see a few shingles missing.
It was oddly... typical for a witches house.
He walked to the front door, eyeing the gargoyle knocker with some trepidation. He held his breath for the first knock, a d wben nothing happened, he followed it quickly with 2 more.
And wben nothing happened, he leaned to his left, trying to look through a window. He raised his hand to knock again wben the door slowly opened, letting out a long creak.
He hesitated, rationalizing his choices before walking through. The door shut softly behind him as he took in the house. It was both odd, homely and exotic; with the strange plants, skulls and knickknacks everywhere.
"Uh, hello? Anyone home?" Only a pleasant silence greeted him. "Um... I'm here to hire your services?"
Caw. He jumped, spinning around to see a raven perched on a chair, a paper scroll in its grasp. The bird hopped away, leaving the scroll behind. Assuming it was for him, he carefully reached for it, opening it slowly.
Unfortunately I am not currently home. You are welcome to stay, or to go. But if you stay, do not touch anything. For your own safety.
He shrugged, figuring the witch obviously wasn't worried about thieves. It's not like she was an easy target.
He settled into the chair, idly tapping his foot on the floor, taking in his surroundings. He was certainly curious, but her warning kept him firmly seated in the chair. With nothing else to do, he pulled his phone out to mindlessly scroll on his feed, happy to burn his battery life while figuring the witch would arrive soon.
But a few hours later when his phone hit 5%, he slid it into his pocket with a sigh. He went back to tapping his foot, looking around for something to entertain him.
He also realized he was getting a bit hungry, something the boredom only highlighted. With nothing to dwell on, he was soon famished and feeling half-mad.
"That's it, I'm out of here. Fuck this." He stood, walking back to the front door only to find it locked. Giving the door a few hard tugs, he finally stepped back with a groan. "Fuck this house! I just want to go." He walked back through the living room to the kitchen, intent on trying the back door.
The back door yielded the same results, and he rested his forehead on the door in defeat.
His nose twitched, the smell of something rich and savory filling his lungs. He raised his head, looking towards the stove to see a large black cauldron simmering away.
"That smells amazing..." He sighed, walking closer, his thoughts of leaving forgotten. He stood over the pot, breathing deeply as his stomach gurgled. "I'm so hungry... but I can't eat someone else's food."
As he spoke, a cabinet opened on its own and a bowl drifted down to the counter, as idlf it was a leaf on a fall breeze. A spoon was magically pulled from the drawer, settling with a clink in the bowl.
Seeing this an an invitation, he picked up the bowl and started scooping what looked like chicken noodle soup into his bowl. Carrying it back to the living room (only to avoid further snooping), he settled back and began eating.
The soup was delicious; rich broth with tender noodles; notes of oregano, thyme and basil. He continued to eat, even Tipping the bowl up to make sure he got every drop.
Still hungry, he got up and took seconds, this time drinking from the bowl as he walked back to the chair.
But this bowl was ... different. The flavors almost seemed to fade...
He swirled his spoon in the soup, trying to decide if the broth had always looked a bit ... green. Looking closer, the noodles didn't seem quite right either.
It wasn't until a noodle moved did he become concerned. Throwing the bowl down with a startled cry, he could hear a deep rumbling laughter as his stomach flipped. He leaned over the arm rest, gags silencing any curse he could come up with.
He was so pre-occupied, he didn't notice the way his stomach began to bloat. He sat back upright, eyes tightly closed as his stomach continued to twist, still ignorant to the way his stomach was steadily growing.
It wasn't until his button popped and he felt the sudden release of pressure that he finally opened his eyes and looked down.
"What the-" His yell was cut off as his stomach surged forward, covering several inches of his lap. His heart started hammering in his chest, his body frozen as he watched himself continue to grow. "No, no, no. Help! Someone help me!"
His cries went unanswered, and he felt his thighs inflating with fat as well, the jeans straining. He was so focused on his belly, he missed the way his upper body was filling out, fat quickly taking up all the slack in his shirt.
He watched, still frozen, as his belly crawled towards his knees, sliding over them like a waterfall as his clothes finally ripped.
That startled him into finally moving, but trying to move a 450lb body with the muscle mass of a 170lb body was neigh impossible, much to his horrified realization. Really, the only thing he accomplished was rocking his fat body side to side and stressing the chair under him. And one thing about antique furniture, it was definitely not made to hold fat people.
He crashed to the ground in a heap of naked flesh and explodes wood, somehow landing sitting upright.
"No.... no, this can't be real..." He grabbed at himself, hands sinking into warm blubber as his belly continued its expansion. His thighs were spreading as well, his hips keeping pace with the width of his belly.
He was steadily losing human features, his body blending into one mass of rolls, folds and bulges. His neck was thickening as well, and he found it hard to look around for something to save him.
The growth slowly petered off, but not before his belly reached his feet and his arms were too fat to raise up. His moobs sloped off his belly, propping his arms up to a permanent 45 degrees.
As he sat on the floor, gasping for air, the raven hopped into the room. It stood in front of him, cocking its head to the side as it took him in.
It let out a sharp squawk, something like laughter, before hopping away. Micah grumbled, not appreciating the mockery but not being able to do anything about it.
With another heavy sigh, he settled in for another long wait until the witch came home and he could go back to normal. Hopefully.
~ Not too much longer after that ~
Micah was stirred out his slumber by the sound of the door creaking open, and the raven that had come to sleep on one of his belly rolls hopped off of him and skittered to the entry way.
"Hello, Reginald." A sultry voice said, with a replying squawk from the bird. "I do apologize for my delay. Someone had leaked my address online, and I had to deal with that." He did his best to turn his head towards the sound, seeing a tall and slender woman standing with her back to him. She was pulling off her hat and gloves, before turning to him. "Oh! Oh my!"
He blushed, wagging his arms helplessly as he tried in vain to hide himself. "I'm sorry... I-"
"Oh dear... whatever happened to you?" She surveyed the room, finally seeing the empty bowl. "Ah, I see."
She walked closer, finally pausing to look around the house with a frown. She snapped her fingers, and Micah watched in wonder as the house seemed to shimmer and slowly the surroundings began changing to a more modern decor.
"It seems my house decided to play a trick on you." She walked over to the mantle, rubbing her hand on it. "It seemed to pick up on your pre-conceived notions of what a witch's house should look like and decided tonplay a trick on you." She paused, as if listening to the houses' whining. "Oh, and it found your shoe tapping annoying so it wanted to make you unable to do that."
"What... what was in the cauldron?" He asked, hating the feeling of his jowls shaking against his chest.
"A potion I've been working n. It was supposed to make people's big dreams come true, but obviously I got something wrong.... or the house tweaked it." She sighed again, sitting in the chair across from him amd looking him over with her purple eyes. "I have good and bad news. The good news, I think this is reversible."
"The bad news?"
"I just don't know how yet." Reginald hopped up next to her, one eye looking over Micah. "I'd say you are free to stay, buy I don't think you can leave at the moment."
"Ha, yeah, I guess not."
"What made you seek me out in the first place?"
"I wanted to see if I could get a potion for self growth..." The witch fought to keep her face straight, but the raven squawked loudly and he could feel the house rumble. "I just wanted to quickly improve myself."
"Well, how about this? For the inconvenience of it all, I'll give you a potion that will help after we get you back to normal."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, Micah. Now, hopefully you don't mind company. I'll need to call my coven sisters for some help." He blushed red, as she finally let a chuckle out.
