Diary of an Evil Encourager
Diary of an Evil Encourager (Part 1) and Ryan's Revenge (Part 2) are explosive gainer diaries available now on Amazon Kindle and coming soon to other platforms.
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It had been a while however, so I looked at him carefully and raised one eyebrow in a questioning way. My look was met with a stare and cheeky wink as he repeated what he’d said. He remembered the safe word. He didn’t want me to stop. Sometimes no doesn’t mean no.
No. I can’t. You’re making me fat.
Boy this pig had learned some new tricks in Madrid. I was even getting jealous because I was sure that he must have had the help of another encourager there. Tom was a handsome guy and now he had crossed the line into massive obesity. I wanted him more and was not going to let him go, or to dictate the terms of our encounters so easily from now on. There was clearly more to be had here, and I was going to have it.
I started to strip off. I was hot too, and he was messy. I wasn’t going to leave here covered in food. That was his job.
He wasn’t the only one who had changed a lot in the last six months. With Tom gone, sure I still had a lot of “clients” as I like to call them, but I’d had a bit more free time and I’d used it to enter the next stage of my bulking in the gym.
I knew this would drive him crazy and I was not wrong. As I pulled open my stud-fasten shirt, I sensed his breathing become even shallower and saw him trying to squeeze himself down below. His mouth wasn’t the only thing getting hungry.
But first the mouth wasn’t finished. I’m a firm believer in finishing with something sweet. A meal isn’t really complete without it, is it? Sure he’d eaten more than a family could eat in a day right now, but this lazy porker was reckoning on it being over now, and I had other ideas.
I like to set the limits when I’m feeding. Guys always think they know when they’re done, but I’ve never met a guy that can’t be pushed just that little bit further every time. I knew the layout of his flat of old and knew only too well that the freezer in the laundry room would be stacked full of ice-cream – his weakness. I found a tub of Chubby Hubby ice-cream, appropriately enough, and after a quick blast in the microwave it was ready to pour into him.
