Weighty Matters

"Eating." He points toward the building next to him. It's a diner. "Wanna join me for lunch?" (The old Fitz never would've eaten at this place. He was a salad guy.)

"Naw. I'm good."

He steps closer. I think he's pushing out his belly. Then, with a conspiratorial whisper, he says, "You know, it's really fun to just... let go."

What is he talking about?

"You remember my cousin Donny?"

I shake my head.

"He's 400 pounds now."

I step back a little. "Okay?"

"He's the reason I'm on the Gain Train." He says that like it's a phrase I should recognize. The Gain Train? Does that mean...? Is he trying to get fat?

He waits for me to respond. He wants me to ask him. He wants... Fuck. I have no idea what he wants.

This whole conversation makes me feel deeply uncomfortable. "Well, have fun with that. See ya around."

I rush out of there as fast as I can. As I round the corner, I see him step into the diner with a big smile on his face.

***

Years pass before I see Fitz again. I think about him sometimes (that conversation was too weird to forget), but when I ask around, none of our mutual friends have heard from him. He's kind of an enigma in our town. We all assume he and his husband choose to keep to themselves.

And then one afternoon, on the exact same street as last time, Fitz spots me leaving my yoga studio. "Benny! Wait up!"

I spin around and see a complete stranger waddling toward me. If it weren't for his voice, I never would've suspected it was Fitz.

The shaved look works for him, but that's the only improvement on his otherwise ruined body. He hangs out of his stained tank top, and his drooping apron sloshes around as he approaches.

Just 10 steps toward me and he's already out of breath. He wasn't even running!

"I... (gasp) wanted to... (gasp) say hi."

"Hi," I say.

There's an awkward silence between us until he catches his breath. He asks, "Are you mad at me?"

For gaining, like, 200 pounds? No. I'm just... sad, I guess. And confused.

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because you always ignore me," he answers. "You and the rest of the old crew. Every time I see you guys..."

I gulp. So I had seen Fitz in the last couple years. I just didn't recognize him. I look at his round face and try to remember. We must've crossed paths around town, but for the life of me, I have no memory of this. He was just another fat guy blending into the crowd.

Should I tell him that? I don't want him to think that I'm an asshole. "Sorry. I... never recognized you."

"Oh," he says. He looks down at his bulging gut and smirks, as if I'd just paid him the ultimate compliment. "Cool," he whispers, more to himself than to me.

This interaction is just as awkward as last time, but I can't walk away now. I'm way too curious.

"Are you trying to gain weight?" I ask directly.

"Trying and succeeding, my man!" He steps back and raises his thick arms, waiting for me to take him all in. The sunlight draws shadows along his stretchmarks.

"Why?" I ask.

"The Gain Train," he says, just like last time. "You don't know how wonderful it feels to make yourself grow. It's like I never had control over my body until I learned how to change it."

"Uh huh."

"Seriously. Add a few pounds and you'll see what I mean."

"Maybe..." I mutter, because I don't have the confidence to scream, "Hell no!"

He smiles. He actually thinks I'm considering it!

"Good answer," he says. "Wanna feel?"

He grips the drooping edges of his belly and wobbles it up and down. He wants me to touch that thing.

Jesus! I would never!

But...

God, I should've just told him no. And I can still tell him no.

So why is my hand reaching forward? Why do I place my shaky palm on his belly curve?

Why do I let it sink in?

Our eyes meet and I feel the heat from his skin. I'm not letting go.

"Careful," he jokes. "You know fat is contagious."

That gets me to jerk my hand away.

Fitz looks me up and down. "Well, man. Since you recognize me now, maybe you can come over sometime. The hubby's a great cook."

(I forget his husband's name. I only met him once. He was a tall, bulky guy, so if Fitz is this big, I can only imagine how big his husband has gotten.)

"Sure," I say. Why did I say that?

And why is my palm still tingling with his belly heat?

Fitz pats my shoulder. "Well, gotta head back. Call me sometime."

I watch him waddle down the sidewalk, his shapeless ass wobbling under his sweatpants.

I'm speechless.

Confused.

Weirdly nervous.

And despite all that, I feel hungry.

There's no way I'll make myself fat like Fitz. God, that sounds awful.

But then why am I walking toward the diner? Why is my stomach rumbling?

***

Five years later, I waddle down the same street. I'm going to the diner again. Fitz is waiting for me in our usual booth.

I'm already 20 minutes late, and I can't let him order before I get there. He might not ask for enough.

I pass by my old friend Jimmy. His eyes glance toward my belly before he looks away and keeps walking.

I'm not mad that he doesn't recognize me. It happens.

But the next time I see him, I'll make sure to have a little conversation. Tell him what he's missing. Maybe let him touch my growing belly.

After all, fat is contagious.

The End

I had to hold back my laughter. This guy was a joke.

But at least we were hitting it off. He was horny as hell, and he still thought that I was interested.

"Would you like to take me back to your place?" I asked, rubbing his hairy back. For my plan to work, I needed to know where he lived, even if that meant I had to lower my standards and sleep with him.

***

Cliff

Crap! He wanted to go back to my place. The only way my plan would work was if I knew where he lived.

"I'd love to," I said, "but my brothers are there right now. How about your place?"

Vlad's smile tightened. He wanted to say no but he was too damn horny. "That's fine. It's actually pretty close."

Perfect.

He led me past the park where I play basketball with my pack. His apartment was only a few blocks past that.

As we walked, he kept glancing at my neck. Probably didn't realizing he was doing it, either.

It would've given me the chills, but I wasn't scared. If he tried to drink me, he'd drop dead. Or at least get violently sick. Vampires can't handle wolf blood. So if he tried to pull something, he'd get a nice bit of karma.

I'd rather that didn't happen, though. For obvious reasons.

He led me to an expensive apartment complex. The building was tall and grand. Very art deco. Seemed appropriate for a bloodsucker.

I followed him inside. If we had to hook up tonight, I'd be ready. Anything to get him to trust me.

***

Vlad

It felt so wrong to invite a werewolf into my lair. I brought humans here a couple nights a week, when I didn't have the energy to eat out. But they didn't stink up the place.

Cliff looked around, seemed impressed by my sleek, expensive apartment, and then kissed me. Good, he wanted to get down to business. I wanted the same thing.

Sex that night was surprisingly pleasant. Who am I kidding? It was fantastic. As soon as his clothes came off and his thick, hairy body was against me, he lost all pretenses of acting human. He let his hungry, powerful wolf side take over. And in turn, I didn't hold back either.

I had my way with a lot of my victims, but I was only able to give a part of myself. If I fucked a human like I fucked other vampires, I'd break bones. This was my first time in decades that I actually allowed myself to let the passion overwhelm me.

Not since Franco, the werewolf I destroyed. What I did to ruin him was so delicious that I forgot how incredible it felt to seduce him. Their breed was pitiful and stupid, but they could ride you like no one else.

After hours of overwhelming passion, we both collapsed on my bed in a sweaty pile of body heat. And despite my natural revulsion, I actually appreciated his musk. At least in the moment.

He lazily stroked my chest and looked at me like an adoring puppy dog. Yes, he was officially under my spell now. I could make him do anything.

"Where's your bathroom?" he asked.

"Down the hall, to the right." I didn't feel comfortable letting him roam my lair unattended, but what could he possibly do?

***

Cliff

I limped out of the vampire's bedroom. I was wonderfully sore and more satisfied than I'd ever been.

Growing up, I learned all about the horrible, disgusting aspects of the undead. But the one thing they don't tell you is how fucking incredible they are in bed. Who knew?

Vlad had the strength to make me scream and the insane flexibility to challenge me. Humans couldn't do that. And when two wolves got together, it was always so fast and messy. It turned into a play for dominance. But Vlad... my God.

And in the heat of the moment, even his cold skin stopped being disgusting. It was like he soaked up my heat and reflected it back to me.

I never understood how my uncle Franco could be seduced by a vampire. I understood now.

Wouldn't distract me, of course. My mission was still going strong. Better than strong, actually, because after tonight, Vlad would do anything I wanted.

I made sure he stayed in his room and started searching for his blood supply. Didn't take me long. With my heightened smell, I detected the coppery stink of his blood bags behind an unlocked door in the kitchen.

Perfect.

Now all I had to do was wait until tomorrow night when I knew he was at work. I'd sneak in and inject liquified lard into his supply. He wouldn't suspect a thing, and after a few weeks on his new diet, he'd be forever addicted to his full-fat drinks.

I was so excited for what would come next. And to make sure I saw his changes for myself, I'd have to continue our relationship. Considering the last few hours, that excited me too.

***

Vlad

Five nights after we met, Cliff invited me to his house for our second date. I'd been in a great mood all week.

Maybe it was because of my plan. Maybe it was because I was still feeling the effects of our erotic night together. Whatever the reason, I spent that week feeling satisfied and... full. Like there was a sense of completeness inside me that I hadn't felt in centuries.

I didn't go on the hunt that week. I was more than satisfied with my blood bags at home. I didn't even have the good stuff. It wasn't virgin or anything, just standard O and AB. But it tasted more delicious than it ever had before. More filling.

Cliff's house was small and humble. More of a cabin, really. Seemed fitting for a werewolf. He led me to the front door. I had to wait until he verbally told me to come inside. (Vampire rules.)

The living room reeked of animal, though it didn't seem to bother me as much as I'd expected. The smell reminded me of him, of what his body could do to me.

We didn't go straight to the good stuff. We both wanted each other, but he insisted that we sit together on his couch first. He wanted to have a real conversation.

We'd been texting all week, a necessary step toward building trust. I got to know him well enough through those exchanges, so our conversation that night was easy. Natural. And as we talked, his amber eyes kept checking out my body with open hunger.

Yeah, he still wanted me.

His big hands started roving up and down my sides, and pretty soon, the conversation ended and he was on me. We made love right there in the living room, just as raw and passionate as before.

I loved every second. More importantly, I'd gotten exactly what I wanted. I knew where he lived. I saw where his back door led out to the forest. And you better believe I noticed the empty cages behind his house.

Telltale sign that a werewolf lived here. On the three nights of the full moon, animals like him escape their house and go on the prowl. When they're in wolf form, they can't control their hunger and have no concept of how much they eat. Those cages are for snacks. Rabbits, raccoons, house pets. Any small creatures that they can tear apart before they run into the night.

And that's exactly what I was going to use to fatten him. The full moon started tomorrow (which was why we met up tonight). I'd sneak in just before moonrise and line up some fatty pig carcasses outside the cages.

He'd eat them all without realizing, and with that much meat in his system, he wouldn't have the energy to run. He'd be bloated and helpless, unable to burn off any of the extra calories.

It was gonna be fun.

***

Cliff

I woke up on my back porch, naked and sore.

Except... it was a different kind of soreness than I was used to on the morning after a full moon. My muscles didn't hurt. Just my stomach.

Strange.

I got to my feet and lumbered back inside. Oof. What did I eat last night? A moose? Hopefully I didn't tear apart any park rangers again.

With bleary eyes, I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My hairy face was smeared with blood. Not surprising.

What was surprising was my horribly distended belly. I looked pregnant. Musta had a real feast last night.

I rubbed my gut and it felt... kind of exciting. I was proud. A well-fed wolf is a symbol of a good hunt. This wasn't fat, of course. Just heavy food. All the running I'd surely done last night had burned off any excess, and now my body would soak up the proteins. My muscles were gonna get huge.

But there was another reason I kept rubbing my solid gut. It made me think of Vlad. He'd jiggled a little in our second night together. Because of me! Because his blood supply was tainted with lard.

So... I don't know. Having this temporary belly bloat was a nice little reminder of what I was doing to him.

I wanted to see him again, though I had to wait for the moon to wane and this bloat to shrink down to normal. As soon as that happened (just two more nights!), I'd find him and see what real fat was doing to his body.

***

Vlad

I knew it was dangerous. Waiting outside a werewolf's house on a full moon. Very few things could kill me, but a transformed wolf was definitely one of them. A terrible way to go, too.

Still, I was so damn curious. This was the third and final night of his transformation, and once again, I hypnotized a couple human farmers to drop off a big ol' pile of pigs outside his back door.

I delivered four the first night, and Cliff managed to finish them all. (Except the bones and hooves. I had my minions clean those up before he awoke.) I pushed things further with five the second night. All gone by morning.

I believe he slept through the last two days, as werewolves do when it's their time of the month, so I didn't know what he looked like. Tonight, I was finally going to find out. Eight full-grown pigs were laid out by his back door just as the sun set.

I heard him thrashing around inside, screaming as his body morphed.

And finally, he burst outside in his wolf form. He was massive. I assume you've never seen a werewolf in person before. (If so, you're probably dead.) Well, werewolves are raw, hairy power. The most fearsome creatures on earth. They ripple with muscles and can rip apart anything that gets in their way.

Cliff did not look like that. He was muscular, sure. His arms and legs were thick and mighty. But his middle... He had a massive, furry belly that bobbed up and down as he stepped onto the porch.

Just two nights of pig feasting had ruined him. He didn't look powerful at all. He looked bloated and weak.

He paused in front of the pig pile, sniffed the air, and pounced. In seconds, he was tearing into the cold meat with his jaws. Like a goldfish, he couldn't stop eating.

It was hypnotic, really. Watching him stuff himself. Seeing his belly expand right before my eyes. He was eating at least six times his weight in pork. A human stomach would've burst after a few minutes, but he gorged all night.

I had my doubts that he'd be able to finish all eight pigs. Even Franco didn't eat that much in one night.

But he did. Every last piece. I drank a few thermoses of A-positive and enjoyed the show.

Once the sky started to lighten (my cue to leave), Cliff collapsed onto the ground with his arms wrapped around his stomach. He looked like a sleeping panda with a stomach as big as a bean bag chair.

***

Cliff

What.

The.

Fuck?

For the third morning in a row, I woke up on the back porch. Except, it wasn't even the morning. It had to be mid-afternoon.

I felt heavy and sore, and my stomach was throbbing horribly.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. This lunar cycle hit me hard. After the first night, I awoke with an insane bloat and ended up sleeping all day. I assumed I'd eaten a large animal or two. Maybe a bear.

And then the second night, same thing. I woke up even more bloated. Hibernated through the day. Ignored all my calls.

And now, after the final night of transformation, I was in the worse pain of my life. I didn't need to go into work today. (I always took three days off every month.) By tomorrow, my body would have processed everything. That's the plan, anyway.

Honestly, I might have to call in sick tomorrow, too. I felt...

"No!" I screamed. I was finally awake enough to look down at myself, and my body was... enormous. My belly flowed out of me by an extra foot. It was so round and stretched that dark red stretchmarks torn into my skin like burns.

And the way my new gut bulged at the sides and felt soft under my fingers... This wasn't just a bloat anymore.

Slowly, I poked into my belly. My fingers sank in.

Oh God! Oh God!

This wasn't a bloat anymore. This was fat. Permanent, soft fat forever attached to my body. How could this happen? My wolf metabolism could work off thousands of excess calories and turn them into muscle. I must've eaten triple the usual amount. At least.

I struggled to stand. When I walked inside, my belly jiggled in front of me. It didn't bob anymore. And it wasn't even round! It drooped!

I rushed to my bathroom, ignoring the loud flops, and saw myself.

Was this karma? Was my plan to fatten the vampire reflecting back on me?

As I tugged at my soft moobs and watched my belly ripple, I realized the truth:

This wasn't karma! This was Vlad! He'd done this on purpose!

***

Vlad

I was asleep in my bed, deeply satisfied after watching Cliff gorge himself all night. Just before sunrise, I came back home and celebrated with a few extra pints of AB negative (the expensive stuff). Then I passed out.

It was still daytime when I awoke to two hands grabbing onto my shoulders and shaking me.

I opened my eyes and saw Cliff's rounder face glaring down at me. He had a double chin now.

"You did this!" he screamed.

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and finally took in his new body. Damn. He was gloriously fat. He was nearly as big as Franco, and it only took one lunar cycle.

I smiled. "Surprise."

He grabbed my neck and squeezed. (It would've been painful if I actually needed to, you know, breathe.) "Fuckin' vampire."

I easily pushed his hands away. "You know I'm a vampire?"

"Duh!" he said. "Jesus! Look what you did to me!"

I pinched his belly droop. He did not like that. "No offense. I hope you're not mad."

"Mad?! I'm..." He forced himself to calm down. "At least I'm not the only one to change."

"And what does that mean?"

With hatred in his amber eyes, he placed his hands on my stomach and squeezed. It felt... different.

I looked down at his hands, at myself, and saw his pudgy digits sink into my soft belly.

What.

The.

Fuck?

I had a belly. An actual belly. I wasn't nearly as big as Cliff, but I had two thick rolls running across my torso. Vampires don't have rolls! Any amount of softness was... was... unnatural!

Unless...

"You did this to me!"

He smiled. "Lard in your blood bags."

Dammit! No wonder everything was tasting so delicious. No wonder I couldn't stop drinking!

"Pig carcasses on your back porch," I said in return.

We stared at each other for a long, heated moment as the realization sank in. We'd both hatched a plan to fatten the other at the exact same time!

I thought I was so clever, and I guess Cliff thought the same thing.

The room was silent. Cliff's hands never left my stomach. In fact, the longer we looked at each other, the more his fingers sank in, and the more he lowered his massive body on top of me.

There was anger between us, but there was... a connection, too. I couldn't help but respect him for what he did to me.

Sure, my plan was more successful. He was enormous, while I was only slightly chubby. But... with all the empty blood bags by the side of my bed... His plan was more long-term. He'd gotten me addicted to my tampered blood supply, and I knew I couldn't go back to the usual stuff. I'd keep growing. I'd reach his size eventually.

And with his belly flowing onto my bed, with its heat soaking into my cold skin, that didn't feel like a bad thing.

I'm not sure when his fingers started kneading me. They went from clamping down to slowly caressing. The contact morphed from cruel to... exploratory.

And without a word, he climbed on top of me, crushed me with his bulk, and kissed me like the animal he was.

***

Cliff

I didn't come here to fuck Vlad. I came to confront him, to tell him that I knew what he did to me and gloat about what I did to him.

But his belly rolls felt like heaven. And my new size gave me a different kind of hunger. Not for food. For him.

The connection, though... That was the hottest part. He owned my body and I owned his.

Instinct took over very quickly, to the point where the next hour was a blur of grunts and slapping flesh. We honored our softness, tore each other open from the inside out, and reached new levels of pleasure.

At some point, I snatched up one of his blood bags and shoved the nozzle into his mouth. It wasn't a conscious decision, and I didn't even realize what I'd done until I heard his desperate sucking.

Three blood bags later, he collapsed on top of me, his heavy body sinking into me, his rolls melding into mine.

It took me a long time to catch my breath. Vlad, who didn't need to breathe, took a while to recover, too.

And as we held each other, he whispered, "We're fat."

I nibbled his ear. "Very fat."

"Do you like this?"

I grabbed his hand and slammed it into my sweaty gut. "What do you think?"

***

Vlad

Cliff and I walked side by side through the forest. Well, I walked. He used his scooter.

We were both 600 pounds (our bodies forever changed by a year's worth of lard and pigs), though my vampire strength helped me handle my extra weight with grace. Cliff had more mobility issues, unless it was the full moon. When he was in his wolf form, he was weightless.

Right now, there was no moon in the sky, and the darkness danced across his hairy skin.

He reached up and gave my watermelon-sized moob a loving squeeze. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," I admitted.

We continued down the path. My massive thighs sloshed together and his belly (still so much bigger than mine) jiggled from the uneven ground.

And finally, we reached the tiny cabin in the middle of a clearing. It looked warm and inviting. It must've been repainted since the last time I was here.

We stopped in front of the porch steps. There were noises inside. Several voices. Some creaks.

Cliff reached into his basket and pulled out a blood bag. He knew I needed another drink before we entered.

I chugged it in seconds. Then I helped my werewolf husband to his feet.

We held each other, kissed each other, squeezed each other's rolls. Then he leaned against me and I helped him up the steps.

"I'll knock," Cliff whispered. (He knew I was more nervous than him.)

We didn't have to wait long for the door to creak open. A young werewolf stood on the other side. Like all werewolves, he was short, hairy, and insanely hot. His compact, muscular body had that delicious animal scent, a scent I used to despise. Now, I couldn't get enough.

Amazing. Not as musky as Cliff, though.

"Can I help you?" The werewolf stared in shock at my wide, pear-shaped body. He knew I was a vampire. Then he glanced at my big-bellied husband and gave him a "hello" sniff.

"Does Franco still live here?"

The werewolf smiled. "Come inside, please."

Good. I couldn't cross the threshold unless he verbally invited me in.

Cliff held onto my flabby arm and we entered.

***

Cliff

If my husband had a heartbeat, it would be pounding out of his chest. I knew exactly what he was feeling.

Our bodies had more or less synchronized since we got together. I mean, there's a reason we were always the exact same weight. We grew together. We felt what the other felt.

And right now, Vlad was terrified. This was his first time coming face-to-face with my uncle Franco since the 80s.

A 20-something werewolf pup named Lucas led us inside. He was handsome in a way, though a bit too short and hairy for my tastes. I liked 'em tall, pale, and curvy now.

Lucas introduced us to a few other pups milling about the cabin. One was cutting up pig carcasses. One was sticking the pieces in a blender. Two more were making out in the corner.

They each had a different scent, which meant that they came from different packs. They greeted me politely but cast dirty glances toward Vlad. (Except the blender one. All he did was stare at Vlad's ultrawide hips with glazed eyes.)

"He's in there." Lucas pointed toward a door in the back of the room. "I'll give you your privacy."

Vlad gave me a long, nervous look. He waited for me to open the door for him.

We stepped inside. Franco's musk filled the room. (He smelled like me, just a hundred times more pungent.)

He filled the room, too. He was a pile, several thousand pounds of hairy rolls oozing across the wooden floor. I saw his head, but his arms and legs were lost in the piles of fat.

There were three other pups with him. Two were massaging his folds while another one helped him suckle from a tube.

Vlad froze. I had to squeeze his arm to stop him from falling.

"Franco?" he muttered.

All three pups turned to us in unison. Uncle Franco let out a wet grunt. It wasn't an actual word, but the werewolves knew what he meant. They stopped what they were doing and ran out of the room.

I pushed Vlad forward. He needed my encouragement.

"Vlad?" my uncle rumbled. His head looked so tiny atop his shapeless body. I couldn't read his expression.

"And it's me. Cliff. Your nephew."

A smile spread across Uncle Franco's face.

Vlad stepped closer. "Franco. You're..."

"It's good to see you," my immobile uncle said. "I can finally... (burp) thank you."

A year ago, I would've been horrified to see him like this. He was too big to move. All he could do was eat and grow. But now, I felt deeply happy for him. He created a new pack of loving pups who satisfied his needs. He'd built the biggest, most wonderful body I'd ever seen.

He was... He was an example of what I could become with Vlad by my side.

Vlad crouched next to Uncle Franco, around where his right leg was buried. Slowly, Vlad reached out and placed both hands on Franco's hairy expanse. "You're welcome," he said.

"Do you want to... feed me like old times?" my uncle asked.

"Yes!" Vlad shouted. I guess I did, too.

"Pig shakes," Franco instructed. "In the kitchen."

Vlad jumped to his feet fast enough for his moobs to make a loud thwack against him. He waddled toward me, just as graceful as he was almost 500 pounds ago. He took my hand and led me out of the room.

"So he's happy," I whispered to him.

"He's beautiful," Vlad whispered back.

"You think I'll ever get that big?"

Vlad stopped me. Grabbed my shoulders. Kissed me hard. "We both will."

The End

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The End

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