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Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Explicit | 4.8K

Shane wants to indulge, but he's nervous about the negative reactions he may get from family and press. They decide to practice.

aka the teasing fic / the meanness fic

Contains: Stuffing, Weight Gain, Teasing, Sexual Roleplay, Mild Consent Play, Burping, Fatphobia

THANK YOU to all of my coworkers at CSH Inc. I hope that you all enjoy my presentation, would appreciate yr thoughts at your earliest convenience

(2021–2025)

The world slowly exhaled after a year and a half of lockdowns, masks, and Zoom classes. By fall 2021, UNLV’s campus buzzed back to life—frat parties thumping again, tailgates firing up, people hugging without hesitation (mostly). Everything felt almost normal. Almost.

Tyler, though, was anything but the same. The pandemic had been kind to his appetite and cruel to his waistline. Isolated in his off-campus housing, DoorDash became his lifeline: endless waves of burgers, wings, tacos, and milkshakes delivered straight to his couch. He lifted sporadically—maybe once a week if the mood struck—but mostly he lounged, ate, scrolled feeder forums, and jerked off to the slow, delicious swell of his own body. By the time in-person classes resumed, he’d packed on another fifteen pounds, tipping the scale at 230. The once-chiseled abs were long buried under a plush layer of pudge that spread across his chest, belly, and love handles. His arms still carried some muscle, but everything felt softer, heavier, more inviting to touch. He caught his reflection in lecture hall windows and grinned. He looked good—sturdy, thick, unmistakably bigger.

He returned to campus that fall determined to reclaim the social life the virus had stolen. Freshman year had ended abruptly, sophomore year had been a lonely haze of solo feasts and FaceTime hookups that fizzled when guys saw the full extent of his gains. Now, as a junior (finally switching to a business major after kinesiology proved too math-heavy), he had time, freedom, and a ravenous hunger for both food and fun.

The problem? His old crew had scattered. Chris had moved back to Bulgaria to train for some amateur strongman competitions. Most of his party friends were buried in pre-med or engineering workloads. Tyler found himself wandering campus alone, belly jiggling slightly under his stretched-out hoodie, wondering where he fit.

Then, one crisp September afternoon, he walked past a row of recruitment booths outside the student union. A short, slim guy with a megawatt smile and a clipboard waved him over. “What’s up, big dawg? You look like exactly the type we need in our chapter.”

Tyler glanced at the banner: Delta Chi. He’d always been curious about Greek life— the brotherhood, the endless parties—but figured he was too much of a lone wolf. The recruiter, Thad, leaned in conspiratorially. “Just come to our rush event tonight. I promise you’ll have a blast. Free beer, free food, good vibes.”

Tyler showed up. He stayed all night.

Two months later, he was a pledged Delta Chi brother, and by winter he was initiated. Rush week had sealed it: Tyler was the undisputed life of the party. The dumb, lovable ex-jock who’d shotgun a beer, then sled down the staircase on a trash-can lid mid-rager. Who’d out-eat and out-drink anyone dumb enough to challenge him. The brothers invented a team game they called “The Feast”—split into squads, each had to demolish a thirty-rack of beer, a fifth of cheap vodka, and a massive Costco pizza while racing to finish first. No vomiting allowed; that disqualified your whole team. Tyler was always the first pick. “Put the big man on our side,” they’d say. “He’ll eat the pizza alone if we need him to.”

He belonged. For the first time, he felt like he had a pack.

Frat life was a dream—until it wasn’t. Classes slipped. Assignments piled up. Midterms loomed like threats. Stress crept in, and Tyler had only one reliable cure: more food, more parties, more everything. Late-night Whataburger runs after bar close. All-you-can-eat buffets before tailgates. By spring 2022, another fifteen pounds had settled in. His face rounded out further, cheeks fuller, a proper double chin emerging when he laughed. His belly pushed insistently against every shirt, hanging just a little over his belt. The brothers noticed.

“You’re looking a little chubby there, bro.”

“Careful, man—all that beer’s starting to show.”

“Big Tyler’s turning into Huge Tyler.”

They teased, but it was affectionate, ribbing from guys who loved him. And Tyler? He soaked it up. Every comment sent a thrill straight to his groin. He embraced the role: the goofy, slightly dim, increasingly chubby brother who’d do anything for a laugh and a second helping.

The years blurred. He changed majors again—to communication studies, something vague enough to coast through. Failed classes got retaken. Hangovers became routine. The gains kept coming, steady and unstoppable.

By spring 2025, graduation loomed. Tyler crossed the stage at 330 pounds—an obese, unmistakable spectacle. His moobs had fully developed, soft and heavy, jiggling under his too-tight gown. His belly, a genuine apron now, hung low over his waistband, swaying with each step. He waddled more than walked, thighs rubbing, arms swinging out from his sides to accommodate the width.

He was far and away the fattest in the chapter. The brothers never let him forget it.

“Yo, Tubby, you need help up the stairs?”

“Save some cake for the rest of us, porker.”

“Jesus, Tyler, how much pizza did you eat this week?”

The teasing had evolved from playful to relentless, but Tyler loved every word. It made him hard. It made him feel seen. He’d become exactly what he’d fantasized about back in high school: a true fat man, lazy and indulgent, a walking monument to appetite.

His days revolved around comfort. Gym? Forgotten years ago. He spent afternoons sprawled on the frat-house couch in stretched-out sweatpants, belly spilling out, shirt riding up as he binged sitcoms and whatever feeders overnighted him—whole cheesecakes, family-sized bags of chips, liters of soda. His room was a glorious disaster: towers of empty pizza boxes, crumpled fast-food bags, soda cans forming precarious sculptures on the floor. Clothes in piles, most too small now anyway.

Dating had shifted. The muscular guys he used to chase lasted a few weeks of flirty texts, maybe a hookup if they didn’t mind the size at first. Then excuses: “Busy with work,” “Not sure about long-distance,” “Just not feeling it.” Tyler knew the truth. He’d gotten too fat for them. The rejection stung, but it also ignited him—proof of how far he’d come, how undeniable his transformation was. He’d stroke himself afterward, replaying their fading interest, the way their eyes had lingered on his belly before they ghosted.

Graduation day arrived. He squeezed into the robe, the fabric pulling taut across his gut as he shuffled across the stage. Diploma in hand, he grinned for the photos, belly proudly protruding. No one from high school would recognize the 190-pound muscle twunk he’d been. He barely recognized himself—and that thrilled him more than anything.

He’d done it. Lazy, not the sharpest, perpetually hungry, but he’d graduated. As he posed with his brothers, their arms slung around his wide back, he felt a swell of pure happiness.

The future stretched ahead, wide open and uncertain. He had no job lined up, no real plan. But for the first time, that didn’t scare him.

He was huge. He was happy. And he was just getting started…

Several months passed and the roommates had drifted apart, sexually at least. Anthony had begun dating Brad exclusively. They hadn’t made anything official, but they were practically boyfriends. Brad was spending the night multiple times a week and Anthony was blowing all his spare change on the young twink. Jared had become insanely jealous of the couple, and began bringing Hyun around the house in retaliation. Anthony definitely took notice of Hyun’s presence, and was not a fan, but he tried to stay satisfied with Brad’s tight little ass.

Jared also noticed that Anthony was back piling on weight at an unheard of speed, which only intensified his jealousy. Unbeknownst to anyone, Brad was a secret feeder with a track record for fattening up former straight jocks. Anthony wasn’t aware of this fact, and was falling prey to Brad’s subtle, but constant, encouragement. He packed on a sizable thirty pounds or so since meeting the small encourager, which left him with a round and protruding beach ball of a gut. Strangely, Anthony found himself enjoying the experience of being a man with a belly. He felt more powerful and in control with this new stature, moreso than he had felt since moving in with Jared. Although, all that new bulk did take some getting used to. The extra curvature was constantly bumping into objects, knocking things over, and getting wedged between tables. Anthony felt like a bull in a china shop twenty-four-seven.

Part 1

When they arrived on the boat, they were accompanied by two other men—the trainer, Richie, and Mehdi. Richie was a striking Austrian man with blond hair and a deep tan. Peter had noticed Richie earlier when they arrived at the compound; from what Peter could see, Richie had been bulking, as his belly noticeably pushed out against his oversized t-shirt. Up close, Peter realized it was a very dirty bulk, as the shirt failed to hide his ballooning midsection. Despite this, Richie’s broad chest and massive arms hinted that he had likely been a serious bodybuilder not too long ago. Mehdi was introduced as Ahmed’s good friend. If anything, he was even more handsome than Ahmed but had a larger, more imposing frame. His belly was also prominent, and his arms were impressively thick.

PHOTOS RICHIE and MEHDI

The butler informed Andy that everything was ready on board and glanced at Peter with a mischievous grin, making Peter blush. Something about the moment felt charged, though Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Ahmed told them to relax and feel at home during their stay, adding they could order anything they desired. The cabin crew escorted Andy and Peter as they toured the yacht.

The yacht had four levels:

- The lowest level was reserved for staff, supplies, the kitchen, and other necessities.

- The first level was communal, featuring a dining room, living room, gym, cinema, and other shared spaces.

- The second level housed six large guest suites. The luxurious accommodations left Peter in awe—he had never seen anything remotely like it before. Andy, however, was already familiar with the grandeur, having visited numerous times in the past.

- The top level was Ahmed's private sanctuary—off-limits unless specifically invited. A guard stood stationed at the staircase at all times.

When they arrived at their suites, their luggage had already been unpacked. Waiting for them was an opened bottle of champagne and a large tin of caviar paired with brioche. A card read: *“Welcome aboard! Please enjoy this snack before lunch.”* Andy knocked on Peter’s door, holding his own tin of caviar, and said, "Let’s eat quickly, and as soon as we’re at sea, we’ll change and lounge at the pool during the ride."

When Andy put on his swim shorts, he realized just how much weight he’d gained since the last time he’d worn them. The skintight trunks clung to his body, but he simply laughed it off and took another big gulp of champagne.

Lunch was served on the communal deck, and Richie joined as well. The starters included various fried savory pastries and salads. Peter noticed Ahmed was served a more moderate portion and skipped the fries, while the rest of the group eagerly inhaled their food. The main course was a massive steak, and dessert was a trolley stocked with four different pies. Andy picked two slices, which turned out to be enormous portions. Mehdi and Peter each took one, but Richie attempted to decline dessert entirely. Ahmed, however, insisted Richie have three slices, smiling as he remarked, "You have the gym to yourself most days, so you’ve got time to burn it off—and your muscles need fuel."

Richie blushed at being called out but didn’t protest further and accepted the order. When Andy finished his second portion, Ahmed instructed the waiter to bring another round of pie for the four men. Though Richie was still struggling with his second piece, another plate with three more slices was set before him. Peter felt for him but stayed silent, grateful he had only ordered one slice himself.

After lunch, Ahmed outlined the itinerary for the next two weeks: a cruise around all the emirates, with occasional cultural stops. Beyond scheduled activities, they were free to do as they pleased—using all onboard facilities—and were only required to join the three daily shared meals. "Even Richie is at your service," Ahmed added with a grin before addressing Andy directly. "And if you need bigger trunks, let me know what you’re after, and I’ll send someone to get them." Andy laughed and replied, "Ah, yes, please. I’d like two pairs—XXXL, extra-short shorts—in black and blue from Orlebar Brown."

They moved to the deck and were served tea and bite-sized pastries while lounging on deck chairs. Peter noticed the tea's distinct sweetness, remembering that this was how it was traditionally served in Arab countries. Richie took off his shirt, revealing his bulkier frame. Andy teased him, joking, "At this rate, you’ll look like me in no time!" Ahmed chuckled and added, "That’s the whole point." Embarrassed, Richie quietly ate the snacks but eagerly reached for more when served.

Exhausted, Peter fell asleep in his chair for about two hours. Upon waking, he attempted to find his suite but got lost in the corridors and accidentally walked into a room marked *staff*. Inside, he found Leo, a steward whom he hadn’t encountered before, eating from a bucket of chocolate ice cream. Leo’s mouth was coated with chocolate, and his tight polo lifted to reveal a round, hairy belly. Clearly startled, Leo quickly put down the bucket and cleaned his face, stammering, "Hi, I’m Leo. How can I help?"

Peter explained he was lost, and Leo guided him back to his room. Leo’s appearance struck Peter—muscular but with a belly and love handles clearly visible under the snug polo. Peter couldn’t deny the feelings that surfaced during their brief encounter.

Inside Peter’s suite, he found a fresh plate of macarons waiting for him. He tried one, and they were addictive. One led to another, and within five minutes, while changing into his swimwear, he had consumed about ten macarons. On his walk to the pool deck, he turned back to his room to grab more, stuffing three into his mouth before taking five more. They were gone in seconds.

At the pool, Mehdi joined him. His tight swim shorts stretched over his firm ass, looking like two halves of a soccer ball. Mehdi greeted him, chuckling, "You must’ve found the macarons,” while gesturing at crumbs on Peter’s face. Blushing, Peter responded, but Mehdi reassured him. "Don’t worry—they’re addictive. I can never stop once I start."

Just as Peter confessed he felt like a pig, Leo appeared with a platter of eight fresh lobster rolls. Mehdi whispered, "We’re probably supposed to finish them all." Trying not to overthink, Peter stuffed roll after roll into his mouth as Leo waited nearby, refilling their lemonade regularly.

That evening, Peter returned to find the macaron plate in his suite had been refilled. By the time he refreshed himself and changed for dinner, he had finished them all—at least 30 in total—and hadn’t even noticed the flavors.

Dinner was a buffet of rich appetizers and creamy pastas. Quietly eating amidst the others, Peter’s already-full stomach stretched uncomfortably as the stewardesses and Leo coaxed them to add more food to their plates. Afterward, they were ushered into the movie room, where they each received a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Peter struggled but somehow finished it, only to be handed a second pint halfway through the movie. Surprisingly, despite being stuffed, it slid down effortlessly.

As Peter reflected on the day, he couldn’t help but question the irresistible cravings and the unusual dynamics aboard the yacht, wondering what lay ahead on this opulent but curious journey.

The next morning, Peter woke up early, feeling bloated from the previous day's indulgence. Motivated by guilt, he decided to lift some weights. To his surprise, Richie was already in the workout area, his bloated belly appearing even larger than the day before. Richie spotted Peter and cheerfully invited him to join in. After adjusting the weights, Peter began his workout, quickly realizing he was lifting heavier than usual.

"I can’t do cardio," Peter said breathlessly, "I’m expected to gain weight."

"Oh, I know," Richie replied with a grin. "We all are. Literally on the same boat. I can help you, though—got some mass protein powder if you need a push."

Peter agreed, intrigued. Richie disappeared and returned moments later with a large cup filled with a thick protein shake. Peter gulped it down and was surprised by how delicious it was. After their workout, they went up to the pool to cool down, where they were served coffee and an Italian breakfast cake. As they chatted, Peter asked Richie about his whereabouts during dinner the night before.

"I was invited by Ahmed for a private dinner," Richie explained casually. "We talked business—he’s interested in funding my plans to open a gym."

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place for Peter. But before he could think too deeply, a stewardess approached them, informing them that breakfast would be served in 20 minutes. Peter’s stomach sank—if breakfast was still to come, then this wasn’t it. Richie noticed his expression and burst out laughing.

"Ha! Pace yourself, man," Richie teased with a chuckle.

They quickly got dressed and made their way to the dining area, where Andy and Mehdi were already grazing on the lavish buffet. All day long, they were served incredible food, every moment of downtime filled with yet another extravagant spread. Peter realized that they were eating nearly 24/7, leaving them perpetually bloated.

After a few days, Peter received an unexpected summons from Ahmed for his own private dinner. Nervously, he arrived at the meeting and was immediately asked to undress and step on a scale. Ahmed turned the screen toward himself, making sure Peter couldn’t see the number.

"Very well," Ahmed said, nodding approvingly. "Now, let’s eat."

The dinner was lavish, with five courses served at a relentless pace. Just when Peter thought it was over, an enormous chocolate cake was placed before him. Panic set in—was he really expected to eat an entire cake on his own? Determined to make an effort, Peter dug in, eating with abandon as sweat began to drip from his face. After finishing over half of it, he finally pushed the remainder aside and leaned back in his chair, exhausted.

"I knew you were new at this," Ahmed said sternly, "but I’ve seen you eat. You can do better."

Ahmed grabbed a piece of cake and aggressively pushed it into Peter’s mouth, forcing him to keep eating. To his surprise, Peter felt a mix of humiliation and excitement at Ahmed’s dominant behavior, spurring him to keep going. Piece by piece, Ahmed fed him the remaining cake until only a quarter was left. Peter began gagging, overwhelmed, but Ahmed’s cold warning stopped him in his tracks.

"You throw up, and I’ll bring out another cake," Ahmed growled, "and we’ll start this whole show over."

Peter calmed himself, rallying his focus. Ahmed made an enticing offer: "$50,000 cash if you finish this."

With adrenaline pumping, Peter nodded. Ahmed urged him on, feeding him piece after piece until the entire cake was gone. Exhausted and stuffed beyond belief, Peter could hardly process Ahmed’s approving words.

"Well done," Ahmed said, pressing a button. "You just devoured 20,000 calories and earned yourself $50,000."

A bodyguard entered, handing Peter a suitcase filled with cash. As Peter left the room, he walked with heavy steps, emotions swirling—pride, shame, confusion. What had he just done? What had he gotten himself into? He barely made it to his bed that night and lay awake, unable to sleep.

The second week brought a change of pace, with the group touring various towns across the Emirates. At each stop, they were greeted with lavish buffets and dinner shows. Andy, in particular, seemed to thrive. Wherever they went, he was the largest man in the room, earning admiration and attention. People even touched his belly as though he were some kind of god. Andy basked in the glory, eating like there was no tomorrow. Peter, on the other hand, had mixed feelings. His growing waistline made him increasingly self-conscious, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what Michael might say. But also Richie’s belly… the poor athlete absolutely blew up these past few weeks.

By the third and fourth weeks, Richie, Peter, and Michael found themselves alone back in the compound, finally with some downtime to focus on work. But the looming departure reminded Peter of the expectations hanging over them. On the morning they were set to leave, a doctor arrived to weigh them. The doctor was incredible handsome and fit.

When Peter stepped on the scale, the doctor offered no details but handed over an envelope.

"I think Ahmed will be very satisfied," the doctor remarked cryptically. "You’re expected back in four weeks. This envelope contains your next task—open it when you get home."

At the airport, a company car awaited them, ready to take them back home. When Peter arrived at Michael’s place, he found only a note: *Welcome home. I’m in St. Tropez. See you soon.* Alone in his own bed the next morning, Peter finally stepped on his scale, and what he saw sent him into a panic—he had gained 12 kg in one month. This couldn’t be true. His heart raced as he opened Ahmed's letter.

The message inside was clear and cold: *Congratulations. You have exceeded your target, gaining 12 kg in four weeks. Your investment is approved, and your kickback fee will be wired to your account. You are expected back in four weeks. Gain at least the same amount before your return, and the investment and kickback will double. Gain even an ounce less, and there will be no extra.*

The letter threw Peter into turmoil. Michael's absence stung; was he avoiding him? More importantly, Peter realized he had no time to waste if he wanted to meet the next target—though the question lingered: *Did he really want to?*

He was restless and texted Andy. Andy replied and told him he was in the club. When Peter arrived in the club he saw Andy. With his normal clothes on he looked even bigger.

When Peter arrived at the office later that day, one of the assistants informed him that Michael’s business partner, Patrick Preston, had invited him out for lunch. The familiar faces of Andy and Damian were absent, leaving Peter feeling isolated behind his desk. Realizing he hadn’t eaten yet, Peter checked the office pantry, where he found a box of doughnuts marked with a note: *Enjoy!*

Pouring himself a coffee, Peter grabbed two generously filled doughnuts—one with Nutella, the other with thick custard. Before he knew it, both were devoured, prompting him to return for another. As he made his way back, he bumped into Damian, who was busy digging into the doughnuts himself.

"Hey, big guy!" Peter greeted cheerfully.

Damian turned around, his mouth stuffed with doughnut and jelly filling smeared comically across his lips. He swallowed quickly and grinned, patting his own belly.

"You did well!" Damian said, eyeing Peter’s obvious weight gain as he reached for another doughnut.

They shared experiences, laughing as they unintentionally polished off a dozen doughnuts between them. Damian mentioned Patrick in passing, painting him as a tall, handsome, but ruthless figure in the company.

Hours later, Peter was called again by an assistant—there was a company car waiting downstairs. Arriving at the restaurant, he spotted a tall man waiting at the bar with his back turned. Approaching cautiously, Peter introduced himself.

"You must be Peter," the man replied, turning around with a welcoming smile.

Damian hadn’t been wrong. Patrick Preston was stunningly tall and incredibly handsome. But to Peter’s shock, Patrick’s huge round belly protruded unapologetically—a stark contrast to his slender back view. As they were led to their table, Patrick began speaking, his tone casual and engaging.

"Please, call me Patrick," he said. "I’ve heard great things from Andy about you. The client is eager to see you again. But," Patrick paused as the waiter began placing dishes on the table, "you’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet."

The waiter brought out the first course: a terrine of foie gras served with toasted brioche. Patrick gestured for Peter to start eating. As Peter tentatively picked up his fork, Patrick announced, “Andy’s taking a break for a while. Since you’ve made such a strong impression, you’ll be handling his clients effective immediately.”

Peter nodded, his nerves amplifying every word, though his stomach churned—more from the weight of the conversation than the foie gras. He was already feeling uncomfortably full thanks to the doughnuts he’d inhaled earlier that morning. The waiter swiftly cleared the plates and brought out the second course: twelve shrimp croquettes.

Patrick continued speaking about the clients, but Peter could hardly focus. Mechanically, he ate the croquettes, ignoring their greasy richness, as his anxiety climbed. Then Patrick broke the flow with an unsettling shift in tone. “I also have some bad news,” he said, pushing the remainder of his own croquettes toward Peter. “Michael won’t be seeing you anymore. He sends his best and says he believes you’ll do great.”

Peter froze. He forced himself to chew as Patrick elaborated with a brisk detachment. Michael had arranged for Peter to live in an apartment for the next six months but expected him to move out of his place immediately. The waiter returned, placing a beautifully plated confit of duck with orange sauce and mashed potatoes on the table. The flavors were exquisite, but Peter barely tasted them, his thoughts elsewhere.

Dessert was served: a large bowl of chocolate mousse. Peter, drowning in an emotional fog, ate in silence. When he finished, the waiter returned, giving him a second portion. And then a third. Patrick leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth casually. “I hope everything’s clear. Take the day off to move your things. A van will be there at 6 p.m.”

Peter nodded mutely and left, tears stinging his eyes. The thought of Michael’s abrupt rejection hit him like a punch to the gut. By the time he was back home, however, sorrow turned into a mechanical determination. He packed his belongings, wiping away tears, and by 6 p.m., two men arrived to load everything into a van. By 8 p.m., he had unpacked just enough to arrange for a pizza to be delivered. Alone in the apartment, he spotted a text from Michael: *“Sorry.”*

The next morning, Peter forced himself back to work. “Let’s do this,” he muttered. He knew he’d need to put on 12 more kilograms to meet his next professional target. Spotting a tray of cupcakes in the office pantry, he started stuffing them into his mouth, feeling ridiculous yet resigned. After grabbing a second round, he couldn’t help but think about how unfairly the women at the office seemed to have it easier with their “normal” clients. He dialed Andy for answers.

“Why are you taking a break?” Peter asked.

Andy sighed. “I promised Calle. He’s worried about my weight, so I’m stepping back for now.”

Minutes later, Calle called Peter directly. “Hey, wanna grab lunch?”

When Calle arrived, Peter was halfway through an enormous sandwich. Mouth full, he gestured at the food and blurted some half-comprehensible explanation. Calle laughed and said, “I get it. I’ve heard all about it from Andy. No judgment. But, wow—you’ve really packed on a belly.”

Peter self-consciously patted his stomach and smirked. “Twelve more kilos to go.”

“And then what?” Calle prodded.

“Then I’m asking for normal clients,” Peter replied, half-joking.

Calle chuckled knowingly. “They’ll never let you. You’re too ‘unique’ for them to pass up. But hey, maybe you’ll get lucky. In the meantime, let me give you Andy’s secret shake recipe: two scoops of mass gainer, half a liter of vanilla ice cream, and a few heaping tablespoons of Nutella or peanut butter.”

Peter raised an eyebrow but laughed. “That’s insane.”

“It works, though,” Calle chuckled. “Just make sure this is really what you want—it’s… a lot.”

After work, Peter stopped at the supermarket. His cart brimmed with ice cream tubs, Nutella, and mass gainer. Back home, a massive KFC order awaited him. He ate until he could barely move. For dessert, he blended Calle’s shake recipe, sipping it down in strained gulps before collapsing, bloated and exhausted, onto his bed.

The next day at work, Peter crossed paths with Damian, who was devouring a cupcake like his life depended on it. “Want one?” Damian asked, handing Peter a treat without waiting for an answer. “This isn’t all—I’ve also got a family-sized tub of Magnolia banana pudding. You want half?”

Peter hesitated, already full, but Damian didn’t take no for an answer. Peter shoveled down his share, marveling at how Damian ate in a hypnotic rhythm, bite after bite. As Peter struggled, Damian patted his belly. “Eat up, big guy. We’ve got goals.”

By evening, Peter reluctantly joined Damian for a workout, still groaning from the day’s food. In the locker room, he was stunned to see how much Damian had grown. The once-toned ex-jock was now sporting a massive gut, stretched taut with faint marks.

“Dude,” Damian grinned, eyeing Peter’s softened belly. “That looks hot.”

Peter blushed, and Damian stepped closer, sparks igniting between them as they began kissing. They broke apart when someone entered, both fumbling into their workout clothes, tension thick in the room.

After a tense workout, they went home together, ordering XL pizzas and devouring them alongside buffalo wings and ice cream before surrendering to their mutual attraction. In the afterglow of their intimacy, Damian confessed, “I’ve always cared for you more than I let on. But when you became Michael’s protégé, I thought you were out of reach.”

Peter hesitated, then admitted, “I didn’t know. But… maybe we can try now?”

Damian smiled. “Let’s see where this weird job takes us. But for now, let’s hit our goals.”

They opened another pint of ice cream, blending it into a calorie-packed shake. Damian handed it to Peter, encouraging him to gulp it down, whispering promises that mixed seduction with hunger. Peter, torn between discomfort and desire, swallowed through the pain, letting Damian’s mouth guide him. He came like he had never had before.

After Calle graduated from university he landed a job at an accountancy firm in his hometown Stockholm. He is a young, fit and handsome guy and at 23 years old he realized that he was too young to just sit behind a desk and spend his good years there just to climb the corporate ladder. He decided to save most of his money and go for a two years finance master in NYC. He worked his ass off, woke up at 7am go to the gym, made overtime and gets home at 9pm for the next day to be the same. After a year he got admitted at a very fancy private business school and left for two years to the States. His parents were not rich but supported him where they could and promissed him to pay his dorm room the first year. In his dorm he met his roommate Peter, a handsome slender tall guy that was about to start his senior year. Peter was a year younger then Calle and clearly worked-out quiet often.

September

Peter told him he would be going to a members only club that evening and asked Calle to join, his old roommate Damian from a a year ago invited him. In the bar Damian warmly hugged Peter, that was surprised Damians new look. Damian was dramatically larger than a year ago. His sixpack was burried under a big prominent belly. Peter patted Damians belly jokingly, saying that life was good to him. Damian had landed a job at an investment banker. Damian told the two guys that it was heaven on earth, there is a huge gym with heavy weights, they pay for everything, have amazing lunches, dinners and parties and most of the guys are gay as the two founders are gay too. They make sure you have everything you need. They are generous on bonuses and let you travel often. They even have a tailor coming in every three months. Damian adviced Peter to keep an eye out as the two founders often recruited their new employees from this club. Damian also asked if Peter already found a new boyfriend, but Peter told him no, he said that was looking for a 6`3 finance guy with a thrust fund. Damian laughed and said that a few of his colleagues fit the profile and would introduce them. Damian said that he was still single too but the office was a candy store for single gays.

Damian introduced a couple of his colleagues to Peter and Calle. They were all very friendly and handsome. All were pretty big guys, not unfit but most were carrying pretty big bellies, like ex-jocks that still often lift heavy weights in the gym. Funny what a good tailored suit can do, even unattractive guys look better with a good suit. Not all his colleagues were gay but they liked the attention and kept the booze flowing. Bottle after bottle was ordered and fried snacks kept on coming. Peter was talking to a guy he knew from their school that also worked with Damian. And Calle was talking to Diego, an older guy that worked for the company the longest. As the night progressed the guys were getting drunk and were challenging eachother to eat more and more snacks. Calle and Peter drank but kept it moderate. 

Peter and Calle woke up the next morning and Peter suggested a workout and a breakfast. After the workout Calle saw Peter’s body naked, it was nice and buff. Not too ripped but a sixpack was visible and two huge pecs very prominent. His dick was massive too. In a diner Peter ordered a protein loaded breakfast and Calle copied his order. They were talking about the guys they met. Peter mentioned that he was surprised to that Damian got so big in only a year. Damian used to be that star athlete of campus and showed a picture, he was indeed a catch. But looked like he completely let go.

Also the other guy used to be very fit but gained a lot of weight since working at the investment bank. Peter said that he couldn’t understand how someone gets so fat when you have a gym and good caterer. 

Oktober

Classes started and the following weeks Calle and Peter only saw eachother in the gym, at night in their room and on Fridays for after work drinks on Fridays. After a month Damian invited Peter and Calle again and they went to the members club again. Damian walked in, clearly bigger than last month.

Peter greeted him and poked his belly, telling him to join the office gym more often like they did. Damian laughed it away, he told him not to worry, it’s just the first few years. They want me to attent every client lunch and dinner and the assistants bring constant flows of snacks and drinks. He just needs to get back on track soon as soon as he reached his annual targets in order to get his bonus. He introduced Calle to Andy, a young big guy that had been working at the firm for a few years now. Calle was struck and started flirting. There was something about a nice suit, big muscular guy with a big fat gut. He never really had a type but thought he found it.

And it was mutual, Andy was all over Calle. He was doing everything he could to impress Calle. Bought him champagne, caviar, showered him with compliments. Calle was getting increasingly tipsy and clearly impressed by Andy. Andy invited him home, Calle willingly agreed. Andy drove a very fancy Porsche. Before heading home he wanted to go through the drive-in. He ordered a massive amount of food before asking Calle if he wanted some too, Calle said no. Andy was surprised and said, if you want bigger muscles you need to fuel them. Calle smiled but was persistent.

Before they reached Andy’s house, Andy already devoured 3 Big Macs and a big coke. At home he inhaled a family sized box chicken nuggets and the fries. When he was almost full he flushed it down with a big milkshake. He finally was full and started kissing Calle. Calle was aroused by the greedy guy. Andy undressed Calle and liked what he saw. A ripped 25 years old Scandinavian hunk with a big dick. He started sucking him and right before Calle was about to come he started undressing himself. His fancy tailored outfit hid a an impressive body. Broad shoulders, thick arms, huge pecs that rested on a big round belly, tree trunk legs and an amazing round ass. Calle couldn’t hold himself and jumped onto the big guy. Andy lifted Calle like it was nothing and turned him on his belly. He lubed his dick and entered Calle. It was pain and pleasure combined. It didn’t take long until both of them came. They feel asleep after and the next morning Calle woke up by the smell of fresh bacon. He saw Andy in his underwear cooking, he immediately turned hard again. A big muscular ass, treetrunk legs and footballerlike torso. Andy told him to contain himself, he first wanted breakfast. Breakfast was 10 scrambled eggs, a pound of bacon and a thick protein shake. Calle took a protein shake and some coffee. The shake was thick and sweet. He asked Andy what it was, it was his magic muscle potion. It was mass gainer, peanut butter, creatine, macadamia nuts and full fat chocolate milk. It was delicious but Calle was full after a few sips. Andy drank the rest. He started kissing Calle and orderen him to suck him off. When he came he said it was time to go. Andy told him he would love to see him but he will be in Dubai for the coming 6 weeks so he will let him know when he’s back. He will close a big deal and get his targets for the year. 

Calle went back to his dorm and was in love. When he came back he found Damian in his bed. Damian and Peter blushed when Calle came in. Stammering about what had happened, it was clear that the two had a romantic night. Calle laughed and proposed to go to the gym. The two guys agreed and got out of bed. Butt naked, Damian had a strong body with a nice chest, thick legs and a round gut. Not as Andy but not bad. Damian wanted to use some of Peters gym clothes but when putting it on he forgot how fat he got. He couldn’t even get the shorts over his round ass. I offered him a stretchy grey sweatsshort that was skintight on him and a tanktop that hardly covered his belly. The sight was hot but Calle had to pretend not to care. Damian was an attraction in the gym, all his former buddies came to say hi. The lifts that he had were strong, it was clear that the office gym was being used. They only eat too much Calle assumed.

The next week he didn’t hear anything from Andy. He assumed he wasn’t interested. Right before Peter and Calle were getting drinks in a bar on Friday the week after Andy texted and said, where are you going? Ill order you a bottle of champagne. Calle told Peter and Peter said, lets make the best of it and lets go to a fancy place. At the bar he mentioned Andy and the bartender put the bottle on a private table, enjoy guys! And the two had a fun night. 

November

The weeks progressed and Calle and Peter both hardly heard from their “dates”. Both were abroad and very unavailable. But after almost 6 weeks, as Andy promissed, he texted Calle that he was back in town and would love to see him. Maybe Peter and Calle could come to the members club that night. Peter didn’t hear from Damian and was down but he would join. At the club the two found Damian and Andy chatting, both were bloated and possibly fatter than 6 weeks ago. Peter was upset that Damian didnt text him but gave him a hug. And Andy hugged Calle rough. Calle was happy to see him but also concerned, his big friend got much bigger in such short of time.

Calle looked at Andy’s belly, Andy saw his look and told him that closing the deal meant that he had lunches and dinners every day for the last 6 weeks. But he closed the deal, reached his target for the year and will receive a bonus as big as a new apartment. Damian told Peter the same. Calle and Andy went home after a short while, both aroused and couldn’t wait to have more sex.

On the way Andy drove to the drive-in again. Calle asked him if he wasn’t big enough. Andy told him not to worry, he likes to be big and bossy. And in the office the bigger guys are seen as more senior. He also said that if he didn’t like it, Calle could just go home. But Calle liked it but also realized that this lifestyle wasn’t healthy on the long run. Andy realized that but he would retire before its unhealthy and he ordered even more than last time. The sex was insane again. And the next morning Calle woke up with the smell of bacon again. This time it wasnt only eggs and shake, Andy had orderen fresh pastries  too. He devoured it like it was nothing. His belly was bloated and he had a hardon. He ordered Calle to lay on his belly to be fucked again. CAlle couldnt wait. That Saturday they stayed in and the day was a blur. It was filled with food, Netflix and chill. Calle felt home and loved pleasing Andy. Andy was constantly stuffed and Calle liked it. 

Sunday night Calle returned to his dorm and found Peter. Peter was excited to share that Damian introduced him to his manager and that he might get an introduction. Everyday that week Andy and Calle saw eachother, Andy picked up Peter from school and they went to fancy restaurants. Andy payed for everything and was known in every restaurant they went to. Andy ordered massive amounts of food and was a treated like a king wherever they went to. It was amazing to be together. On Friday they went to the club again were Peter and Damian were as well. They had a fun night. Andy told Calle that he would have to go to Dubai again for a last minute deal before the year would end. It would mean that he probably would stay there until Christmas and return home. He offered Calle to stay in his apartment and use his car in the meanwhile. Calle was excited and sad. That night Andy and Calle had another night together loaded with food and sex. The morning after Calle dropped Andy off at the airport. He picked up Peter from his dorm to make a tour. Damian invited the two at the members club again. They were greeted by Damian and his colleagues. Peter was struck by a guy he never saw before, he flirted from the corner of his eyes but felt guilty as Damian was there too. But the guy was bold and came over, he told Damian to introduce them. Damian was struck and introduced him as Michael, the founder of the bank. Michael was a tall handsome guy, somewhere in his 30s or beginning 40s. He was the most handsome guy he had ever seen even with the little belly he carried. He was skinnier than most of the guys that worked for the firm. Peter stammered, and introduced himself. They were chatting away about economics and politics. Calle left as he couldn’t get a single word in, even Damian couldn’t even talk with them. So Damian left as well. 

Peter and Michael left for another bar and kissed that night. Peter went to his dorm by himself as Calle was in Andy’s apartment. He went to the gym the next day and received a text from Michael, Dinner tonight? Peter was excited and confirmed. Damian texted only to say that he was leaving for Europe and will be back before Christmas. Peter wished him good luck. He met Michael in a fancy sushi place. They had a very fun evening. They kissed again and Michael dropped him off at his dorm. Peter texted the next day to thank him and he immediately got a reply asking, Dinner at my place tonight? He confirmed. Michael and Peter had a very nice evening for two. They kissed and had a romantic night in bed. Michael was all over Peter, he loved every bit of Peters perfect sculpted abs and muscular young body. And Peter loved Michaels ex-jock look. The hot pecs and the cute round beer belly, a round ball of fat. Michael said, promise me that you will never get fat. Peter said, i wont, im fat to vain and active. Michael said, dont let my employees challenge you. Live is not a competition. 

The next morning Michael said to Peter, listed, I wanna keep seeing you and I know you want to have a meeting with the recruiter but I have a better idea. You will work on my team, don’t let anyone know about us. You will be in my assistant team but no one can know that I’m gay as most of our clients are Arabs. It’s just parttime so you can finish your uni and then we will discuss the future. Peter confirmed. The next day he got an email with instructions and a NDA that said that everything discussed and send is highly confidential. Especially anything Michael says or does.

Calle was enjoying Andy’s apartment. He went to the gym, cooked, studied and enjoyed the luxury apartment. He hardly heard from Andy but Andy showered him with gifts instead. A new laptop, flowers, perfume, those things. He heard that Peter was hired as Michaels assistant and realized that they would probably hardly see eachother. He invited him over to celebrate. That night they agreed that Peter would get Calle in the firm too as soon as Calle would be at his finals. That would take at least another year or so. 

Peter arrived the first day at his job, he met the other assistant, two very pretty girls in expensive clothes and blowdried hair. It was a beautiful office that was one wing of the building. It looked like a classic French livingroom equiped with lounge corner, meeting room, 4 desks, a main desk and private bathroom and shower. They explained the daily program and what Michael expected. When Michael arrived they had his coffee and some pastries waiting. He came in in gym clothes, stepped on the scale and one of the girls wrote it down. He went into his own shower, got dressed and explained the agenda. All the new info was tiring for Peter. Michael took him out for lunch and ordered a chicken salad for Peter and steak and frites for himself. It was fun and Peter liked how dominant Michael was. Michael expected Peter to study during office hours, go to the gym everyday and see him at his house every night. Eventhough Michael sometimes had late night meetings. It was a tough schedule but Peter liked it. Together with the girls they planned Michaels whole life and informed him on all the reports. They were a secluted area of the company. Only during meetings they saw other people. Peter and the girls were expected to take notes on important meetings. He learned about all the projects. Also the projects overseas were discussed. The amounts of money they discussed were insane. Million after million of revenue came in to invest. The food buffets around those meetings were insane, he saw all the guys digging in. Their own assistants sometimes even brought in milkshakes or pastries. They were just constantly eating and working. Even if they were behind their desks they were pampered. Peter and the girls were forbitten to eat. Even Michael hardly touched it. Andy and Damian were also discussed during the meetings. Their accounts were bringing in the biggest amounts.

When he came home Michael ordered him to step on the scale. Peter was surprised. He asked why and Michael said, i just dont want you to get fat. From now on you I will weight you every day. You are only allowed to add muscle. Peter agreed and was layed on his belly and got fucked by Michael. His dominance was very exciting. 

December

The days and the weeks flew by and Peters body was getting better due to his health regime and all the gym visits. Michael stayed the same although he might have gained a few pounds but Peter didnt mind.

It was the last week before Christmas and Andy asked Calle to pick him up from the airport. Calle made sure that they had a romantic dinner at home together. At the airport he was surprised when he saw Andy. Andy was clearly bigger again.

The surprised was brushed off when Andy hugged him. It was so nice to see him back and they went home. They had very passionate sex bit Andy felt much bigger on top of Calle. He was even out of breath at some point. The fell asleep in eachothers arms right after. The morning after Calle had breakfast for Andy but it wasnt enough. Andy ordered in some more pastries. Calle suggested to go to the gym but Andy had other plans with Calle and took him back to bed. That night they went to the club again where they met Damian. Damian had also clearly gained more weight. Calle decided not to say anything to either of them. Peter walked in a saw Damian and Andy, his eyes popped out of their sockets. He was suprised to see both guys so fat. Calle said, I know what youre thinking.

Peter replied saying that there most be something going on as everyone in the company is eating like there is no tomorrow. But everyone is so secretive and as im Michaels assistant no one tells me anything. Calle said, you on the otherhand look amazing! Beefed up! Peter blushed and replied, yes, Michael is very strict on his assistants. But I like it.

March

As the new year rolled in Peter and Calle were working their asses off, gym, school, work, relationships. Now that they had boyfriends they hardly went out. Andy was out on a business trip for two full months. They tried facetime a few times but he was always with others. After 8 weeks Calle picked him up and was couldnt believe his eyes. He new Andy grew but this time the amount of weight was insane. Andy saw his face and said, sorry babe, it got out of hand. The growing will soon stop Andy replied. 

During those two months Peter and Michael practically lived together. Michael decided everything Peter ate. While Michael had a more relaxed eating lifestyle Michael had Peter on a very strict protein diet. The office caterers made sure to prepare a very calculated meal program. In restaurants Michael orders everything for Peter. Peter only had to agree and show up. Peter and Michael had both their work and their private life. No one in the office new about. Peter’s body was perfectly sculpted and Michael’s stayed the same. Still everyday he stepped on the scale. After a while Peter became more persistent about Michael obsession with the scale. Michael said, someday I will explain. 

April

After three months of traveling Damian was back in town invited his two buddies to the club. When they showed up they first didn’t recognise Damian. Untill he started waving. He was huge, he gained even more weight than Andy. The two guys said, its time to explain something. Damian said, soon it will be done. They said that it was the third time someone told them that, they demanded more information. Damian said that the only thing he can say that it involves an insane amount of money. He was sweating. But the two guys were confused but happy to have sort of an answer. As the night continued the three guys got increasingly more tipsy. Before he knew it Damian blurred out that there would be a new job opening as a junior account manager and Peter would be perfect. Peters eyes lit up. In three months right before summer they would hire someone. When Peter got home he saw Michael and told him about he opening. Michael hardly reacted and said that he didnt know about it but if he wanted it he should apply. They didnt have sex like normally and just went to bed. The next morning Peter asked why he wasnt excited, Michael replied, saying that he knew his employees and didnt really want Peter to be part of it. Besides, they would probably see eachother much less. Peter hadnt thought about that that. But he did want to start his carreer somewhere good. He did send in his application to start the hiring process.

It was already end March and Andy got back from another month of traveling. He was again bigger. Calle didnt even mention it. He was just happy to see his big boyfriend back. They went out for dinner and got pretty tipsy. Andy ordered the biggest steak on the menu and had 3 desserts.

His buttons were almost popping after the third dessert. The sight made Calle horny. Andy saw Calle’s excitement and had a hardon under the table and quickly asked for the bill. At home they ripped off eachothers clothes amd had amazing sex. That night Andy had trouble sleeping, his weight made him struggle breathing. Calle said, I love you, i think youre sexy but maybe its time to lose weight. Andy said not yet. Calle asked why, Andy said, i a few weeks I can tell you. Calle got upset, he said, Andy, tell me whats going on. This cant continue. Andy said, ok but I have a very strict contract with big punishments if I share info, so i will share some bit not all. The risk is too big. Calle agreed. So I have this client the invests millions and millions of dollars into the bank. As soon as I reach a certain weight he will invest a $100.000.000 and I will receive a kickback of $5.000.000. Calle was silent. He said, jezus, this is not a joke, it’s your health. Andy said absolutely but if I continue this for a few more months I have enough money to retire and do whatever I want. Calle said, ok and how much more do you need gain? Andy said, if I gain 50lbs in the coming two months i reached my goal. Calle was struck. Both couldnt sleep anymore and Calle started scrolling online about weight gain. The next morning Calle had a plan, I will help you. I ordered mass gainers, peanutbutter, and an oxygen machine. You will be huge within these 2 months but promisse me you will keep going to the gym. Andy agreed.

That morning they went to Starbucks and ordered the creamiest and largest coffee, eggmuffins and a few pieces of pie. Andy ate willingly. The afternoon Calle went for a run and got home all sweaty with a big bag of McDonalds. Andy ripped of Calle’s shirt and wanted to fuck his perfect ass but said, only after you finished this. Andy laughed and started. He was full halfway but saw Calle taking his shirt off. He kept pushing himself and started to feel sick. It hurt he moaned, Calle said, comon big boy, you can do this. He kept pushing and after last bite he layed himself on the bed. His belly bloated and pushed out like a big ball of fat. Calle started stroking his dick. He didnt have to do a lot before Andy came and fell asleep. Later that day Calle woke him up, get up big boy, we’re gonna do groceries. They went to Wallmart and loaded in pounds of steaks, butter, mayonaise, heavy rich cakes, tubs of icecreams and XL buckets of Nutella. When they got home the massgainers had arrived too. Calle started by making a Nutella gainershake with some vanilla icecream. It was the sweatest and thickest shake Andy had ever had. But he drank half a liter of the calorie loaded shake. It kept him full until dinner. Calle served him a huge steak fried in a insane amount of butter. He baked potatoes and served them with buckets of mayo. Eat up big boy, we have a dessert waiting for you and lifted his shirt. Andy started eating. The extra fat made him feel full extra fast. But he kept going. As soon as he devoured the big piece of steak Calle came in with a big peanutbutter chocolate pie. If you eat this fast enough you’ll be lucky he said. He started digging from the whole cake. He hardly chewed the rich cake. When he slowed down Calle gave him mountain dew to wash it away. Half way the cake he gave up, his bloated belly showed from under his t-shirt. Calle undressed him and ordered Andy to fuck him. After only a few thrusts Andy could hardly breath. He came again within minutes and fell asleep. 

These new feeding sessions became the new routine. Andy wasnt traveling that month and went to the office for gym and meetings. The meetings had big buffets and his colleagues were challenging him to eat bigger meals. At night Calle waited with huge rich dinners finished with calorie loaded mass gainer shakes. Every day he would put in a bit more nutella and mass gainer. The dessert was Calle. Often Andy was too out of breath and just had to lay on his back while Calle did the work. Sleeping went much better now that Andy had his oxygen machine. During the weekends Calle went to the gym, went to Wallmart and picked up mountains of burgers. At home he made huge shakes for Andy while he was devouring the burgers. They were finished with sex and cupcakes.  

Halfway through April Peter got an invitation for a meeting with the recruiter. Michael asked if he really wanted it, Peter said yes. Ok said Michael, i will write you a recommendation, but you will not gain weight or we will be over. I do not want a fat boyfriend. Peter was confused, and said of course not. I will keep doing my daily routine. Michael said, ok I will keep weighing you and I don’t wanna hear you complaint if things go grim. A few days later he went into the office early and had a meeting with the recruiter. He was offered a drink and a pastry that he declined. Then he had to sign a contract. He was not allowed to talk about any of the information. The recruiter said that he received the recommendation, you must be good if the boss writes you one. The meeting was tough, they roasted him. They kept asking how he would deal with demanding clients. He kept saying that he would do anything but they were hesitant. After the meeting they said that they would need at least two weeks to see all the applicants and that they will call him after that. When he saw Michael that night he raised his concerns about his interview. Michael said that it was a very demanding job and that he should really think about if he is ready to change his whole life. It’s easy now with Michael, and if he wants he could even get a bit more responsibility and a raise. It sounded appealing and he will think about it. 

May 

The weeks were a blur for Andy, he was used to eating large meals with his clients but this was new. Calle challenged him in every way. He had never felt as full as Calle’s feeding sessions. Every meal stretched him to a new limit. The meals got more calorie dense every day. And their sexlife has never been this good. Calle pushed all his buttons. He felt his body grow every day. Sometimes he would panic if he saw his reflection in the mirror. He has never been stick thin but there were times that he was flaunting a sixpack on the beach. The reflection made him panic about his health more than his appearance. Calle made his large frame feel sexy and masculine. The gym sessions kept him strong. Calle was the only one that was allowed to see the scale, besides, Andy couldn’t see past his belly any longer. This made Calle more in charge of his body. 

Peter got a call from the recruiter, saying that he was through to the next round but it was a long shot. The next meeting would be in two weeks. They mentioned that they were still doubting if he really wanted it but the second meeting would be an assignment, he would receive learning material within a few days. Michael had become colder and colder towards Peter. They didn’t have sex that often any more and Michael aften went out late at night. Sometimes he would ask the other assistants if there were other guys in Michaels agenda but they said that there weren’t. When he received the material for the interview he immediately started reading. During his regular work and the meetings Peter attended in the office Peter tried to reach out to a few of the senior accountmanagers, to see if they had tricks. Unfortunately they werent really interested. They just did their thing, presented their numbers, went to the buffet, and went on with their day behind their desks or at client meetings. He thought that they must be under a lot of pressure if they didnt even have time to socialize with juniors. That day he bumped into Andy in the office. Andy was huge, he was clearly fatter but his muscles were also bulking. He was sweating and of breath from his walk from the parking towards his desk. Peter offered to get him something and Andy replied that he saw that there was an Oreo cheesecake in the kitchen and that he would looove a big piece with a Frappuccino with a double shot of mocca caramel from the coffeeshop. Peter understood the assignment and realized that if he wanted more info he would have to get it. And so he did. He went down to the coffeeshop, ordered a XL Frappuccino and cut a ridiculously large piece from the cake and brought it to Andy. When it was in front of Andy he said, ok now tell me, how do I get the job. Andy first replied with his mouth full that he wasn’t allowed to talk about it. Peter took away the plate and treathened to throw it in the bin. Andy greedily said, ok ok, I will give you some info but first give me the plate. Peter handed him a fork with a big chunk and said, step by step mister. Andy said ok, never say no to anything they offer you. Peter cut off a second large chunk. Andy said, be aware that they own you as long as you work for them and tell them that you will be submissive to their demands. A third chunks was got off, now tell me Andy, what do you mean. Andy said, if you’re lucky clients will only kiss sometimes, if you’re unlucky you might have to lose that perfect sixpack. Now thats the end, I shared more than im allowed. Peter gave him the rest of the cake and left his office. He was confused, how can they own someone he thought? And was that the reason why so many of the seniors were fat? He wondered. 

The morning before the interview Michael had already left for the office. Peter was nervous and insecure, he started realizing that all the food and the weight gain of his Damian and Andy was part of their deal. He didn’t want to lose Michael but he did want a promotion. He decided to see where it would go. Right before the interview Andy walked up to him, saying, listen Peter, whatever they offer you, just take it. They will ask silly questions but they wanna see how far you will go. He became even more nervous. He walked in the room and saw two guys he had never seen, they introduced themselves but he forgot their names, he was struck by their handsome appearance. He understood that they were from the Middle Eastern office and they told him that his role would focus on the Middle Eastern clients. One of them called to the reception and ordered coffee, within a few minutes they brought in three cups of coffee. Then the assistant brought in a large tray of millionaire shortbread. The assistant only offered Peter and Peter took one. The assistant put the tray in front in of Peter and left. They started chatting and the two guys were incredible charming. They discussed all kind of subjects. From fancy clothes to food to cars and watches. They kept offering the shortbread seductively and hospitable. Peter ate willingly, since dating Michael he hardly ate something sweet and let alone unhealthy. He started to feel full but kept stuffing the shortbread in. After what must have been an hour they asked what he wanted for lunch, one of them mentioned to order some steak for the protein goal. Peter said to join the steak. The conversation went easy and friendly and at the moment he finished the plate of shortbread the same assistant came in and prepared the table for the lunch. It was prepared with real solver and expensive linnen napkins. Shortly after he came in with a trolly with heath lamp and a huge piece of prepared steak and started cutting the big piece of meat. Another assistant came in with a plate of salade and served the three man, in the meanwhile the first assistant served the steak, perfectly cooked. He got served a big portion and saw that the guys were served half of what he had. The other assistant the came in with a large bowl of fries and served it on top of his plate and put a bowl of mayonaise next to it. They kept the conversation running and slowly ate their food. Peter wanted to make sure he ate everything so he didn’t disappoint. He kept thinking about Andy’s remark. He felt uncomfortably full and let out a sigh after finishing half of the meat. The assistant came in and served he the exact amount of meat and another mountain of fries. Peter started to become nervous and started sweating a bit. He asked for a drink, so he could wash away easier. He brought in a big glass of coke. Peter saw the two guys grinning to eachother while he was struggling to stuff in the meat and fries ik his mouth. He could only hear them talking about staying abroad often but could hardly respond as he tried to eat as fast as he could.

The moment he wanted to give up one of the guys said, I hope you enjoyed it and saved some room for dessert. Grinning more. Peter’s forehead was drenched by sweat and could only knot yes. The assistant took away his unfinished plate and topped up his coke which he happily sipped from for some relieve. The guys asked, are you ready to take on the job? Peter wanted to reply but the assistant came in with big bowl of chocolate mouse. The assistent scooped a big portion on his plate. Peter knotted and started eating the mouse. He just wanted the conversation to be over. They brought out the contract and put it in front of him. We will give you some time to read. He started reading but could hardly focus. It mentioned salary increase, bonusses, transport, representation, clothes. It was blurry as he was too full to think. He was looking for a pen, one of the guys walked back it and said, looking for this? The assistant came in behind him and gave and put the big bowl of mouse in front of him. The guy said, let’s see how far you can get before you can sign. Peter wanted to throw up but realized it eating or nothing. His stomach was aching and he sweating all over, but he kept eating. He became a mess, there was chocolate all over his face. As soon as the last bite was in his mouth he was handed over the pen and signed. He collapsed and fell in a food coma on. A few minutes later Andy woke him up and said, hi there partner. I just got informed that you will take over my Middle East clients, I will prep you and in two weeks you will join me for a trip to Dubai. 

He was happy but only wanted to lay down. He called in sick and went home for the rest of the day. When Michael got home later that night he congratulated Peter, he said, I will give it a chance but remember what I told you. Now get undressed so I can congratulate you properly. The next morning Peter woke up still bloated, Michael told him to step on the scale. Michael wrote it down and ordered him to go to to the gym and a run today. Peter felt embarrassed but agreed. 

In the office Peter met up with Andy to go over all the details. Peter started asking all kinds of questions, but Andy told him to wait and see. That day the tailor came into the office and started taking Peter’s sizes. He said something like to make his clothes bigger as he new by experience that newbies would gain a bit of weight in the beginning. Peter told the tailor to just go for his regular sizes as he would not gain weight. The tailor just laughed. Andy told him to make sure to bring swimwear too. He would be in the heat for at least 4 weeks. 

June

The two weeks before Peter’s departure were a blur. All the things he had to arrange and go over with Andy and his normal assistant work for Michael. Ever since he signed the offer Michael was all over him, every spare minute he wanted sex. Like it would be the last time. On the day of his departure Michael hugged him and said take care. Andy and Peter boarded the plane and made themselves comfortable in the large businessclass seats, they even looked small when Andy sat down. When they arrived in Dubai there was a Rolls Royce waiting for them. It drove out of the city towards a big compound. They were greeted by a handsome butler and each brought to a room. Through the windows of a hallway in on of the side buildings of the compound he saw a huge outside gym. He saw a big handsome guy with a trendy oversized gymshirt, mist be the trainer Peter thought. When they arrived at their suites the butler told them to relax the rest of the day and be dressed for dinner. Andy knew his way around and asked if he could get some lunch as he was starving. He also suggested to eat it at the pool. Their wing had it’s own pool. The butler suggested that Peter would have some lunch too. Andy said to quickly change to swimwear. They sat down on two comfy lounge chairs. Two handsome servers brought a trolley with two large burgers and fries and a big milkshake, just how you like it Mr. Andy.  They both dug in and Andy almost inhaled the food. Peter didn’t even have one third when Andy finished already. Andy told Peter to hurry as dessert will be served soon. Peter started to eat faster but couldn’t handle the pace. Halfway through his plate dessert was served, two large bowls of fresh tiramisu. Andy lounged back on the chair and balanced his bowl on top of his belly. His belly was a sight. Peter was surprised by the mountain of fat. He got aroused by Andy’s masculinity. Andy ordered Peter not to slow down. When Peter started his tiramisu Andy already ordered a second one and some ice cream to top it off. The moment Peter finished his dessert Andy suggested a nice nap.

At dinner they were awaited by their client. Ahmed, a handsome beefy guy. He greeted Andy with a hug. He said well Andy, by the looks of it you deserve the investment. So walk with the butler so he can take your measurements. Peter why don’t you join them so we will take yours too. Andy undressed to his underwear and stepped on the scale. He could not see what it said but the butler wrote it down. Peter did the same. If said 90kg, that was 10kg heavier than when he first started dating Michael he thought. His body was perfectly sculpted by bulging muscles.

They got dressed again and went back to Ahmed that was waiting for them with a buffet filled with appetizers. He ordered them to dig in. They piled their plates and sat down. Now start eating said Ahmed. They dug in while Ahmed shared the results. Now Andy, congratulations, as proposed we will invest $100.000.000 as soon as you reached your goalweight of 170kg and even gained 10kg more. You will receive a personal kick-back of $5.000.000. Peter suddenly realized what was happening. The client was playing a sadist game and wanted to see how far people would go for money, it clearly worked. Peter froze and realized that it was his turn now as he would take over from Andy. He couldn’t eat any more. Ahmed made Andy another offer, as you will be here to guide Peter to take over from you, we will offer you another personal kickback of $500.000 for every kilo you gain the coming 4 weeks. Andy smiled, he said, that will cost you hehe. 

Now Peter, as you know your first target is an investment of $1.000.000. We are willing to invest that if you gain at least 5kg the coming 5 weeks. Your personal kickback will be $100.000 if you can reach that. Every 100grams above that will add another $10.000. Peter almost got sick hearing the offer. He hardly ate and spoke during the dinner while Andy devoured plate after plate. he got increasingly bloated during the dinner. He was finally full after three huge bowls of chocolate mouse. Ahmed excused the two and let them get back to their rooms. He told them to be ready after breakfast tomorrow for a few days on his yacht. He told the butler to prepare their luggage.

While they walked back to their room, Andy said, Peter, it doesnt matter how you gain the weight, if it’s fat or muscle or both. Just do it. If you leave without the investment they will put you on London clients and they are more grimm. They will want you to date them or worse and the investments are not that lucrative. There is a gym on the compound with a full time personal trainer, he can also help you gain weight. He might even have some bodybuilding tricks for that.

Peter told Andy that Michael doesn’t want a fat boyfriend. Andy said that he was in the same situation as he used to date Michael too, so let me tell you a story. Michael want two things, money and a hot twink boyfriend. He will dump you when you gain weight or get old but will shower you with bonusses if you make him more money. Think about it. 5 to 10 years of these clients and you can retire. He will dump you in 5 years anyway because you will be too old for him too. And Michael has a an agreement with the Arabs too, 15 years ago when Michael started the company he was sculpted like a god. They made him gain weight too in order to invest in his funds. They offered him a kickback of $25.000.000 if he gained 50kg in total, and guess what, he did. And to top it off, they pay him a $1.000.000 a year not to lose any weight. And they still have an offer for him for $500.000 for every kilo he gains. But he is vain enough to just take the annual million. Instead of him gaining more he sent his boyfriend to the Arabs. It was the guy before me. A beautiful young muscular man, Eric. He sold Eric’s soul and body. They invested $500.000.000 and Eric blew up to 400kg. Within 10 years Eric was unrecognizable. He was a prize hog, and was hardly mobile. Eric became an eating money machine. After the first 10kg Eric got dumped by Michael and I came in his place.

But Eric was a money maker for Michael. The kickbacks were not that lucrative for Eric, the kickbacks went to Michael instead of Eric himself. Eric was still blindly in love with Michael and did everything Michael wanted. Eric got fatter and fatter and fatter. The Arabs loved it. Eric had fun too, he sometimes stayed in the compound for months in a row. But after 10 years Eric had to retire, he could hardly perform and walking became a problem too. He is now locked away somewhere in the South of France where Michael has a house and makes sure he’s well taken care of. Probably is still doesn’t know how much money Michael made out of him. Im sure Michael feels guilty about it. Since Eric the kickbacks come to us directly. We can even negotiate. If you like you can even start an affair here, but be warned, shut up about everything that goes on around here. And don’t become like Eric but play the game better. Do what you have to do and think of yourself. Thats what Michael does too. Now get some sleep, we will talk more during breakfast and then we will get on the boat tomorrow.

The first two weeks of college hit Carl like a freight train he hadn't seen coming.

It turned out that freedom came with a price tag, and that price was written in syllabi that seemed designed to crush his soul. Business Statistics alone had three assignments due in the first month, plus weekly quizzes. His Marketing Fundamentals professor had assigned two textbook chapters and a case study analysis for the second week. Then there was Microeconomics, Composition, and a required freshman seminar that somehow generated more work than classes that actually mattered.

Carl found himself in the library at hours he didn't know existed, his laptop screen burning his eyes as he worked through problem sets and reading assignments. The parties still happened every weekend—he wasn't about to give those up—but they meant sacrificing sleep he desperately needed. His morning runs became non-negotiable, the only thing keeping him sane, even when his body screamed for an extra hour of rest.

He'd wake up at six, force himself into his running shoes, and pound out five miles before most of campus was awake. Then it was shower, protein shake, classes until mid-afternoon, library until dinner, gym for an hour, more library, and finally collapse into bed around midnight. Weekends offered a brief respite—parties on Friday and Saturday nights, recovery and homework on Sunday.

It was exhausting. It was overwhelming.

But he was managing. Barely.

The one bright spot in his grueling schedule was Gavin. They'd hooked up twice more since that first party, and the sexual tension between them remained electric. When Carl wasn't drowning in coursework, his phone would buzz with messages that made his pulse quicken.

Thinking about you, Gavin texted one Wednesday afternoon while Carl was supposed to be reading about supply and demand curves.

Yeah? Carl replied, biting his lip.

A photo came through seconds later—Gavin shirtless in his bathroom mirror, one hand holding his phone, the other resting on his defined abs. His jeans hung low on his hips, and the V-lines pointing downward left little to the imagination.

Carl felt heat rush through him. He glanced around the library, making sure no one could see his screen, then stepped into the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt, flexed slightly, and took his own photo—his lean, muscled torso on full display, the lighting highlighting every cut and definition he'd worked so hard to maintain.

Miss this? he sent back.

Fuck yes. Friday night?

Definitely.

These exchanges became a regular occurrence, little bursts of excitement that broke up the monotony of academic pressure. Carl found himself looking forward to Gavin's messages, to the validation that came with someone that hot wanting him.

Friday night of his second week arrived like a gift from the gods. Carl had survived another round of assignments, aced a quiz in Statistics, and had the entire weekend stretching ahead of him. Well, most of the weekend—he'd have to hit the library on Sunday, but that was a problem for future Carl.

He stood in front of the mirror on his side of the room, trying to decide between two shirts. The navy blue one made his eyes pop, but the black one was tighter, showed off his arms better. Behind him, he could hear the familiar sounds of David eating—the crinkle of a bag, the crunch of chips, heavy breathing punctuated by satisfied sighs.

"Which one?" Carl asked, holding up both shirts and turning toward his roommate.

David looked up from his position on his bed, surrounded by what appeared to be an entire convenience store's worth of snacks. He'd changed since that first day—or rather, he'd gotten more comfortable. Now he often went shirtless in the room, his massive belly hanging over sweatpants that had to be specially ordered. Carl had stopped being shocked by it, though he still couldn't quite look directly at all that exposed flesh.

"Black one," David said through a mouthful of Cheetos. "Shows off the guns."

Carl grinned despite himself. "You think?"

"Dude, you're ripped. Might as well flaunt it." David grabbed a two-liter of Mountain Dew and took a long drink straight from the bottle. "Another Sigma party?"

"Yeah. Gavin invited me again."

"Gavin, huh?" David's eyes sparkled with knowing amusement. "That's like the third time this week you've mentioned him."

Carl felt his cheeks warm as he pulled on the black shirt. "We're just hooking up. Nothing serious."

"Hey, no judgment here. Get it while you can, right?" David shifted his weight, the bed frame groaning beneath him. "He hot?"

"Very."

"Nice. You got good taste."

Carl paused in the middle of styling his hair, surprised by the casual way David had just confirmed what Carl had suspected but they'd never explicitly discussed. "So you're...?"

"Gay? Yeah, man. Thought that was obvious." David laughed, his whole body jiggling with the motion. "I mean, I've been checking out the guys in the dining hall just as much as you have. Though I'm usually more focused on the food, if we're being honest."

That's an understatement, Carl thought, but he found himself smiling. "I wasn't sure. We never really talked about it."

"Well, now you know. We can compare notes on hot guys." David grabbed a bag of Doritos and ripped it open. "Though I'm guessing your type and my type are probably different."

"What's your type?"

"Guys who don't run screaming when they see me shirtless," David said with self-deprecating humor, but Carl caught the hint of genuine insecurity underneath.

An awkward silence fell between them. Carl turned back to the mirror, applying a small amount of cologne to his neck and wrists. He could see David's reflection behind him, watching him get ready with something that might have been longing or might have been simple curiosity.

"So what are you up to tonight?" Carl asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Same as every night. Got some new games downloaded, ordered Chinese food, might smoke a little later." David held up a bag of weed from his nightstand. "Living the dream."

"You ever think about going out? There are parties all over campus."

David snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure that would go great. Fat guy shows up, everyone suddenly remembers they have somewhere else to be."

"That's not—" Carl started, but David cut him off.

"Dude, it's fine. I know what I am. I'm not delusional." He shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. "Besides, I'm happy here. Got everything I need."

Carl wanted to argue, to say something encouraging, but what could he say? That David should lose weight? That he should try harder? That seemed cruel, and besides, David seemed genuinely content with his lifestyle, even if Carl couldn't understand it.

"What are you playing?" Carl asked instead, nodding toward David's gaming setup.

"Just downloaded the new Elden Ring DLC. You play?"

"I used to be obsessed with Dark Souls in high school."

David's face lit up. "No shit? Dude, Dark Souls is like my favorite game of all time. What build did you run?"

And just like that, they were off. Carl found himself sitting on the edge of David's bed—carefully, because he wasn't sure it could handle both their weights—talking about video games. They discovered they'd both played the same games growing up: Halo, Mass Effect, The Last of Us. They'd both cried at the same parts, raged at the same boss fights, made the same choices in dialogue trees.

"Okay, but Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi?" David asked, transitioning seamlessly from games to movies.

"Empire, obviously. Darker, better character development, that twist—"

"Yes! Thank you!" David gestured enthusiastically with a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a box Carl hadn't noticed him open. "Everyone always says Jedi because of the Ewoks or whatever, but Empire is objectively superior."

"The Ewoks are the worst part of the original trilogy."

"Preach."

They kept talking—about movies, TV shows, music. Carl was surprised to discover that David was funny, genuinely funny, with a quick wit and a self-awareness that made his jokes land perfectly. He did spot-on impressions of their professors, had hilarious stories about his high school D&D group, and could quote entire scenes from The Office from memory.

Carl glanced at his phone and realized with shock that forty-five minutes had passed. He was going to be late to the party.

"Shit, I gotta go," he said, standing up and grabbing his keys.

"Have fun, man. Use protection." David winked, and Carl laughed.

"I'll try not to wake you when I get back."

"Dude, I'll be up until like four AM. We should game sometime, if you're ever around."

"Yeah," Carl said, and was surprised to realize he meant it. "That could be cool."

As he headed out the door, Carl found himself thinking that David was actually a pretty fun guy. Sure, he was still grossed out by the constant eating, the labored breathing, the way David's body seemed to expand a little more each day. But underneath all that excess was someone Carl could actually be friends with.

It was a strange realization.

The party was in full swing by the time Carl arrived. The Sigma house pulsed with bass-heavy music, and bodies packed every room. Carl spotted Gavin almost immediately—he was hard to miss, standing near the makeshift bar in a tight white t-shirt that showed off his build.

"There he is," Gavin said, pulling Carl in for a kiss that tasted like beer and promise. "Thought you weren't coming."

"Got caught up talking to my roommate."

"The fat guy?" Gavin made a face. "That sucks, man. You should request a room change."

Carl felt a flicker of defensiveness that surprised him. "He's actually pretty cool."

"If you say so." Gavin handed him a beer. "Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

He led Carl through the crowd to where another guy stood—tall, blonde, with the kind of chiseled features that belonged on magazine covers. He wore a fitted button-down with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that suggested serious gym time.

"Carl, this is Tyler. Tyler, Carl."

Tyler's eyes traveled down Carl's body appreciatively. "Gavin's told me about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Very good things." Tyler's smile was predatory in the best way. "He mentioned you might be interested in some... company tonight."

Carl's pulse quickened. He looked at Gavin, who was watching him with hooded eyes, then back at Tyler. Both of them were incredibly hot, and the suggestion hanging in the air was crystal clear.

"I could be persuaded," Carl said, taking a long drink of his beer.

The three of them stayed at the party for another hour, drinking and dancing, the sexual tension building with every touch, every loaded glance. Gavin's hand on Carl's lower back. Tyler pressing close behind him on the makeshift dance floor. The promise of what was coming making Carl's skin feel electric.

Finally, Gavin leaned in close to Carl's ear. "Want to get out of here?"

They went back to Gavin's place, stumbling through the door in a tangle of limbs and hungry kisses. Tyler pushed Carl against the wall while Gavin locked the door, and then they were all over him—hands pulling at his clothes, mouths on his neck, his chest, everywhere.

Carl lost himself in it completely. Two sets of hands exploring his body, two mouths kissing him, the three of them falling onto Gavin's bed in a heap. It was intense and overwhelming and exactly what Carl had fantasized about. Tyler was aggressive, dominant, while Gavin was more playful, teasing. Together they took Carl apart and put him back together, over and over, until he was boneless and satisfied and completely spent.

Afterward, lying between them, Carl felt like a god. This was the college experience he'd dreamed about. This was living.

Carl stumbled back to his dorm around two AM, still buzzing from alcohol and endorphins. His body felt loose, relaxed in a way that had nothing to do with his usual post-workout satisfaction. This was different—this was pleasure without discipline, indulgence without guilt.

He was also absolutely starving.

The realization hit him as he climbed the stairs to the third floor. He'd been so busy getting ready and then so distracted at the party that he'd completely forgotten to eat dinner. His last meal had been his usual lunch—grilled chicken breast, steamed broccoli, and brown rice. That had been almost ten hours ago.

His stomach growled audibly as he opened the door to his room.

David was exactly where Carl had left him, propped up on his bed with his laptop, but the snacks had been replaced by two large pizza boxes from Gino's, the best pizza place near campus. The smell hit Carl immediately—garlic, cheese, pepperoni, grease. His mouth watered involuntarily.

"Hey, man!" David said, looking up with a grin. "How was it?"

"Really good," Carl said, unable to take his eyes off the pizza. "Really, really good."

David followed his gaze and laughed. "Hungry? I ordered way too much. Help yourself."

Carl hesitated. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten pizza. Months, at least. Maybe since last spring? Pizza was empty calories, refined carbs, saturated fat—everything he'd trained himself to avoid. He had meal-prepped chicken and vegetables in the mini-fridge. He should eat that.

But god, the pizza smelled amazing.

"Come on, dude. I can hear your stomach from here." David patted the bed next to him. "Live a little."

Live a little. When was the last time Carl had done that with food? When was the last time he'd eaten something just because it tasted good, not because it fit his macros?

"Fuck it," Carl said, and grabbed a slice.

The first bite was a revelation. The cheese was perfectly melted, stretching in long strings as he pulled the slice away from his mouth. The sauce was tangy and sweet, the crust crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Grease dripped down his fingers, and Carl didn't even care.

"Good, right?" David said, watching him with amusement.

"So good," Carl mumbled through his mouthful. He finished the first slice in what felt like seconds and immediately reached for another.

The second slice disappeared just as quickly. Then a third. Carl ate mechanically, barely tasting it now, just shoveling food into his mouth to fill the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. The alcohol had lowered his inhibitions, and his body was demanding fuel, and the pizza was right there, and it tasted so fucking good.

"Damn, you can put it away," David said approvingly. "I like a guy who can eat."

Carl looked down at his greasy fingers, at the three pizza crusts on the napkin in front of him, and felt a moment of panic. Three slices. That was probably fifteen hundred calories, maybe more. All that fat, all those carbs, undoing hours of careful meal planning and disciplined eating.

But then the panic faded, replaced by a warm, heavy feeling in his stomach. He was full—actually, genuinely full in a way he couldn't remember being in months. His usual meals left him satisfied but never quite full, always maintaining that slight edge of hunger that kept his body lean.

This was different. This was satisfaction.

"I can't believe I just ate that," Carl said, leaning back against the wall.

"Dude, it's just pizza. You're allowed to enjoy food sometimes."

"I guess."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, David returning to his game while Carl felt the combination of alcohol, sex, and food pulling him toward sleep. His eyelids grew heavy, his body sinking deeper into the mattress. He should get up, brush his teeth, change into pajamas, do his usual nighttime routine.

But he was so comfortable. So full. So tired.

"I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second," Carl mumbled.

"Sure, man. Sleep well."

Carl's last conscious thought was that he should feel guilty about the pizza, about breaking his diet, about letting his discipline slip.

But he didn't.

Just as Howard had guessed, the young man was loitering in the changing rooms when he entered. He'd seen the slim man watching him his entire set, changing from treadmill to elliptical to standing bike to keep a clear eyeline to Howard at all times.

Howard wasn't surprised, exactly. He'd found that he attracted more than a fair few men as he'd put on weight these past few years, and the gym was the perfect place to show off his developing figure. He couldn't exactly boast a powerlifter build, per se, but he had enough muscle underneath all the fat that he could show off how much weight he could lift, and enough to keep most of his fat in a firm, round gut at his center with comparatively less flab elsewhere on his body. Coupled with a thick dark beard and a thick pelt of coarse body hair, he often had twinks lining up for the opportunity to call him ‘daddy’; not something he was thrilled about at the grand age of thirty-four, but also not something he was in a rush to correct anyone wanting to fuck him over.

“Should I take my shoes off?” he asked me as he stepped up to the scale.

“You can leave them on for this part. It’s fine,” I told him half-paying attention, flipping through his chart. The shoes never make a difference: if you’re overweight, you’re overweight, I thought to myself as I pushed my glasses up with the back of my knuckle. It was Mr. Gunderson’s first appointment at our office. I had overheard him telling my receptionist as he checked in that he had recently moved to the area from Texas and needed an annual physical to file with his new insurance. You could tell he was nervous from the way his wide, strong shoulders were tensed up and he shuffled his feet from side-to-side, holding his coat in front of him shyly.

He was a very sweet man from what I could tell and decently attractive—in his mid-thirties with a handsome, striking face and mousy, curly hair kept short on the sides. He had a thick, well-kept beard obscuring what was likely a softened jawline. He had a broad frame and stood a few inches over six-foot (I took note of this in his chart as he stepped away from the stadiometer and I handed him his shoes back. Huh, I thought to myself, I guess he could have just taken his shoes off after all). I didn’t typically triage new patients like that, gathering their basic information and starting up their record with us, but we had lost the last of our nursing staff a few weeks prior and were struggling to find a good fit to bring in. My and all my patient’s favorite nurse, Rebecca, had taken her maternity leave and would be gone for nearly the next year, so I had picked up the added responsibilities of our nursing staff while we scrambled to hire and onboard a replacement.

He had gotten married a few years back to a woman from his church, Mr. Gunderson told me as I escorted him into the examination room and he awkwardly tried to make chit-chat. They both worked late at a pet store they owned and opened up themselves, but the long hours meant he wasn’t able to work out or eat as well as he had in his twenties. He was an athletic guy!, he assured me. They had recently had a baby, too, and naturally that was causing some issues with his health regiment. He continued with a few more explanations to excuse his weight, as if it made much of a difference to me.

There was an obesity epidemic in the country, that much was true. I hadn’t been a practicing doctor for long by that point, and I hadn’t truly believed my attending physicians in residency how prevalent an issue it would be. I had countless patients, the majority even, who would come in with some skin sensitivity on their face or a case of tendonitis in their ankle that I could easily point to their added weight as the culprit behind the pain. Unfortunately, they don’t want to hear that: “I started using a new tea tree oil I got online—maybe that’s why?” they’d brainstorm as I looked down at their chart and saw their weight history climbing and climbing over their last few visits. 

I jotted ‘Additional stress in work life’ beside his first weight entry in his chart: 258. Not the worst I had seen by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve had patients younger and less fortunate in the height department who were closing in on 400 or 500 pounds—folks who really can’t seem to control themselves or exercise even an ounce of willpower against their own impulses. I just didn’t understand that mindset at all, it seemed so foreign to me to not be able to just control yourself and put the fork down once you’d had enough. Mr. Gunderson would have no problem, so long as he started making a few better lifestyle choices. I asked him to roll his shirt up and hold it at his chest so I could listen to his lungs.

He lifted his buffalo plaid flannel shirt up from under his pot belly and pulled it from where it had been tucked into his pants. A pale, fleshy gut plopped back down, giving me a quick glimpse at what appeared to have been a belt buckle underneath. He straightened his back up as his chest expanded and his stomach got mildly slimmer—the classic “suck-in” gesture I’d grown accustomed to. My male patients loved to do this as if that somehow obscured the fact that they were obese; as if I had not just taken their weight a few minutes earlier.

“Alright, let’s take a look here,” I muttered as I placed the cold end of the stethoscope between his shoulder blades and took a listen. His lightly hairy back was damp with sweat and he jumped slightly from the cool touch of the stethoscope’s bell, goosebumps cascading everywhere.

I adored being a doctor. Every day that I showed up to work, button-up work shirt over my lab coat (optional to wear, of course, but I insisted) and superfluous briefcase, it felt like a fulfillment of a dream I had held close my entire life. Listening to Mr. Gunderson’s shallow breathing and swift heartbeat (nerves, usually), I thought back to pushing the tight plastic stethoscope toy I had between my ears and holding it to my stuffed dog’s chest as a kid. I was 29 and had only been working as a primary care physician in Coldwater for two or three months. It hadn’t been the easiest transition—being a gay doctor in suburban North Carolina had some, we’ll say, unique social challenges (did all the good gay men already get married while I was in school?), but I could at least always say I loved my job. I had a deep-seated dedication not just for caring about others, but for health and wellness in general: I knew first-hand the benefits of staying healthy, eating right, exercising regularly and staying regimented. I got to wake up every day and look in the mirror to see a fit, healthy body—one that took lots of intentional care and effort to maintain. I longed to be able to show my larger patients how it feels to have your body at such a peak level, able to do anything you want it to do at any time. I had been trying for ages though—people these days are just too addicted to their sugar-dense foods, it’s a waste of my breath.

Mr. Gunderson plopped his shirt back down quickly after we had finished as he slouched back down and let his gut return to its natural position, pressing firmly against his shirt’s fabric. It’s cute that men do that—that they get so self-conscious about their excess belly fat (as if its some unique, shameful problem) that they feel the need to “suck-in” at all. Although I’m of course not blind to the fact that as egotistical as it seems, I’m sure having a young, fit doctor doesn’t help with that feeling. I felt slightly badly that my body, just by imposing itself in the room as fit and healthy, made men like Mr. Gunderson feel so insecure and ashamed.

I had him roll up his sleeve to his shoulder as I prepped the blood pressure cuff I pulled from the cabinet. I turned back around to see his thick, beefy biceps. I had to quickly jut my eyes back to the cuff to avoid staring. I shimmied the cuff up his hairy, thick forearms and around his enormous bicep. I felt butterflies begin to loosen their wings in the pit of my stomach as I pumped the cuff up with the bulb in my hand. After I had gotten his diastolic and systolic, I ripped the velcro off and tossed the mechanism to the side.

“Now listen, Mr. Gunderson, unless you have any specific issues that you want to cover, I think we’re about wrapped up here,” I explained as I wheeled my pleather stool over to the examination table. He leaned back slightly and braced himself with his hands behind him, clearly a little tired from trying to hold his breath up and suck his belly in for so long.”Now my only concern is your blood pressure: it seems to be just slightly higher than I would love to see it.” I felt myself getting a little uncomfortable along with him as I noticed me unknowingly picking at the nail on my middle finger with my thumb. He sat forward again, hands folded in his lap like an ashamed schoolboy.

I’ve had countless conversations like this by this point: one’s where I essentially have to scold grown adults for their eating and exercise habits (or lack thereof, for the latter). After just a few years, most things in this profession had grown a little monotonous and ordinary: I could tap a vein to draw blood while thinking about what I’d make for dinner that night. I could perform a breast exam while I picked between my molars with my tongue to get a rogue piece of popcorn out. These conversations had not become any easier, though. I truly cared for my patients and I wanted them to be the best, healthiest versions of themselves, but I could never shake the feeling that I was simply hurting their feelings. I imagined them leaving, upset and their confidence knocked down a few notches, slamming their car door closed and driving straight to the McDonald’s a few blocks down to console themselves. Was I really hurting more than I was helping? 

“My biggest recommendation, not knowing what your diet is like, would be to look at that a bit more closely–” “Doctor, may I stop you?” he muttered, staring down at his hands and avoiding eye contact.

I stopped. My thoughts scrambled and scattered out in a thousand different directions. What the hell is happening? 

I had never had a patient cut me off in any capacity—ever. People listened when I spoke, especially with my lab coat on. I wasn’t prepared and sat, mouth open, for a few moments before I looked down and recapped the pen under his chart’s clip. “I’m sorry?” I managed to say as I nervously went to scratch my neck.

He took a deep breath and finally met my eyes. “With all due respect, Dr. Sexton, this isn’t the first lecture I’ve gotten about my weight. I understand it is an issue, but I’ve explained why what’s going on in my life and where I am at,” he said firmly and quickly. “I know the right things to eat and the best exercises, and I will do my best to lose some weight. Is there anything else I should know about?”

He spoke directly and swiftly, as if he had practiced this monologue several times before. I looked back at him, dumbfounded. He wasn’t being aggressive, nor was there even a tinge of frustration or bitterness in his tone. I could sense that I was one in a long list of individuals in his life who he felt looked down on him for having gained some weight in the last few years: I’m sure friends, family, perhaps even his wife, have given him condescending lectures at length about his size. “Don’t you want to be around a long time for your kid?” “Damn man, you’ve really put it on, you look healthy.” “Why don’t you join that new gym around the block? I heard it’s nice!”

I felt a wave of guilt crash over me. I could rationalize in the moment that I hadn’t done anything wrong, per se, or at least nothing that any other healthcare professional would not have. I hadn’t called him any names, I didn’t approach him with an air of superiority, I hadn’t even used the word obese (though with his BMI, I very well could have). I suddenly felt a sense of pride on his behalf and a tinge of envy of Mr. Gunderson in that moment for having that amount of restraint and self-assuredness to say that to a doctor, much less me. A big man who is grounded enough in himself to still be nervous around me, but not so much to not stand up for himself. Interesting, I thought, realizing how long I had stayed quiet.

“Oh, er, well,” I darted my eyes back down to his chart. Additional stress in work life. I scratched it out with my pen. “I completely understand, Mr. Gunderson. I won’t lecture you or tell you anything you don’t seem to already know. Is there anything else bothering you today I should know about?” 

Why am I so nervous? I thought as I drew my attention to my knee bouncing up and down restlessly, urging me to get up and leave. I felt myself getting warm, waves of sweltering heat starting to encroach on me like a tide coming in.

“I think that’s all, Doctor.” He maintained eye contact. I felt somewhat intimidated, closing the front cover to his chart and reaching to shake his hand. His hand met mine: his hands were smooth and soft, almost impossibly so, and his handshake was firm and steady.

“Well, thank you so much for Mr. Gunderson–” “Please, call me Dillon,” he interrupted. “Yes, Dillon,” I smiled. He hopped down from the examination table, the thin sheet of paper beneath him crunching as he did, and I escorted him out of the room down the hall. We said goodbye with another firm handshake and that I would see him soon as I passed him along to our receptionist, Hannah, to process payment.

I skirted my way from the desk quickly, turning behind a pillar at the end of the hall and closing the small bathroom’s door shut behind me. Pulling paper towels from the dispenser and unbuttoning the top few buttons on my shirt, I began wiping my sweaty armpits and looking at myself in the mirror. What just happened? 

My face was a pinkish-red and a bead of sweat had accumulated at the corner of my brow. I stared into my eyes for a moment, reacclimating myself to the room. I’ve always been a handsome guy, or so I have been told (it can be difficult believing the guys online and their compliments after they read ‘Doctor’ under my profession). My hair was a stark, deep brown that appeared almost black in the light. I kept it well-coiffed and lightly gelled to one side—my mother called it my Clark Kent hair. I stared deep into my blue-green eyes and examined their color in the fluorescent, overhead light. I gave a quick smile, my almond shaped eyes squinting and hiding my pupils, and checked my teeth (still pearly and pristine from extensive brushing that morning). I stood back and gave the mirror a quick arm flex as I felt the tightness momentarily set in around my bicep. Damn, I look good. I stretched my arms up over my head and watched my shirt untuck itself, my happy trail peeking out over my flat, muscular abs.

It wasn’t that I was cocky or all that into myself, despite how it sounds. I had been a very thin, svelte child—being an only child to a set of marathon-running athletes meant that I always snacked on the very best that diet food of the mid-90s had to offer. My parents instilled a discipline in exercise and diet in me early on and I was very fortunate to have had that. Strictly never drinking soda at restaurants, never eating out at greasy, fast food-style places, always eating healthy, homemade meals: I was lucky that this routine had been ingrained in me so early. In the interest of full disclosure, though, I didn’t care too much about the vanity of my body.

Of course I appreciated that my physique allowed me to get a foot in the door with other guys, that wasn’t lost on me. I could step foot into any gay bar and know I’d reliably get several up-down glances from patrons. I had never had to make the first move with a single soul before: men seemed to trip over their feet to talk to me at times. I could pop my head into any one of the hook-up apps on my phone and be able to take my pick from the onslaught—but truthfully, it was just an added bonus to the workouts and the controlled diet. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a handsome, fit stud, but if I had seen myself on the street or at the bar, I don’t think I would’ve hoped to see me glance over or approach me. I wouldn’t have looked at my Hinge profile and swiped right, hoping I would message first.

I ran the faucet for a moment and splashed cold water on my face, taking a few swigs of the metallic tap to rinse my mouth out. The Mr. Gunderson altercation (Can I even call it an altercation? I thought to myself) had thrown me off. I don’t handle confrontation in social situations particularly well, as you might can tell. I don’t often get surprised like that, particularly not in this job. Working as a primary care physician is about as routine as it comes in the medical field. I took a deep breath and swung the door open, tucking my shirt back in around the back.

“Dr. Sexton?” Fuck! My receptionist was standing right outside, stack of manila folders in her hands. “My god, Hannah, you scared me!” Hannah was a small woman in her mid-20s, short mousy-brown hair at her shoulders, small, wire-rimmed glasses in front of her beady eyes. She was bookish and petite, always wrapped in thick cardigans and shawls, blankets stacked up on behind her rolling desk chair. She was a tad intense—never seeming to blink quite enough and always rigidly avoiding the discussion of anything non-work-related.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. One of the candidates for the nursing staff arrived for his interview. Are you ready for me to send him back?” she asked, staring through me.

“Sure, Hannah. Could you remind me of his name?” I asked in a hushed tone as we started toward the front. She handed me the folder from the top of her stack: “Chris Franzen, 26. He has been working in at a minute clinic in Charlottesville for some time. He’s moved back to the area after he went through some break-up, if I remember correctly. He’s a chatty guy,” she said with subtle annoyance in her voice. “He’s up at the front when you’re ready.” 

I took the folder and flipped it open. “Thanks, Hannah. Oh hey, before I forget: did Mr. Gunderson seem angry when he left?” 

“Who? Oh, your last patient. No, not at all. He was very cheery, told me he was going to grab lunch after he left. Why?” she asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Nothing, I was just curious,” I said as I gripped the door to the reception area and swung it open.

To grow fat. To crave more.

Now everyday you're growing. You can't help it. You can't turn it off. You can eat so much now you don't realize with every bite past your lips that you're only making room for more, increasing your capacity for gluttony.

You only notice when you're outgrowing something—your clothes, furniture, a space you used to fit in comfortably—to an embarrassing degree. Or you sit back stuffed after a meal and see the mountain of empty containers, the stacks of plates and bowls ...

Suddenly, you become aware how heavy you feel, how you couldn't stop, how your stomach pushes out more than you last remember, maybe you've spiraled more than you think, you have been accidentally stuffing yourself multiples times a week lately because you need to be full these days to be satisfied and normal meals don't cut it anymore, but who cares because eating just feels so good, and are those new stretchmarks?

You're aching and tender and sensitive, exploring and touching your body to these thoughts. You don't even know when you started doing that, it's so automatic at this point. Squeezing, hefting, gasping, belching, whimpering, moaning.

You're definitely bigger, softer. There's more to heft and grab—it's so addictive, the sensation rubbing and playing with your belly, of jiggling with every move. The way it's all your fault. There's no one to blame but you, your appetite, and your desire that's gotten you here.

... and it only makes you wetter for dessert.

You thought greed could never control you. That it couldn't trap you in a cycle that you were so sure you could leave whenever you were done, once you thought you had your fun with your feedist tendencies and be ready to leave them behind.

Look at you now, huh, fatty?

His belly was full and heavy like a barrel of heavy whipping cream, pressing forward against the ribbed wool in a way that couldn’t be ignored. The knit clung to every curve, fabric stretched taut around the swell of his mighty gut, riding high enough that the lowest button of his jeans visibly strained in protest. When he lifted his glass to drink, the sweater shifted just a fraction, revealing a glimpse of skin underneath, soft and pale. This man wasn’t just big, his physique was commanding. It was the kind of heft that announced itself before anything else, hanging with an ease that spoke of years of confident indulgence. 

Olly was as jealous as he was aroused. It was the kind of body Olly had been secretly craving for himself. It was a shape that announced an unashamed hunger. A genuine joy for food that would not acquiesce for society or health or beauty. It was a corpulence that was proud of itself. Olly couldn’t look away. His own gut pressed against his shirt as if in response, warm against his own hands feeling up his fresh pudge, imagining more. The man noticed. Their eyes met and he smiled, slow and confidently.

it had been almost a month since Luke started working at the bakery, and he couldn’t have been happier. He got to live in an apartment for free, he lived right next to work so he didn’t have to commute, and he had the best job ever. All he did was clock in, eat a shit ton of delicious pastries, and clock out to take a nap. There was one glaring issue though. Luke had finally started to pick up on the extra weight that was slowly piling onto his midsection. He’d put on about 10 - 15 lbs and his skinny frame had started to soften. He knew it was bound to happen, but he didn’t think it would add up so quickly. He sighed as he pulled on his sweatpants and headed into work.

“since the holidays are coming up I’m gonna need you to work a little extra for a couple months, got it?” Ben said when he saw Luke. “Well what does that mean?” Luke asked worriedly. “Well I’ll be making more pastries that you’ll need to test, and I’ll need you to continue to eat the entirety of each pastry. One bite doesn’t encapsulate the work of art that is my baking. Understood?” Luke placed his hand on his newly softened gut and shuddered. But there was no way he was losing this job. It was perfect. “Yup. Sounds great!” Luke said with a fake smile.

he sat down in the office and Ben brought in the usual tray full of pastries. Luke got right to work but before he could even finish the first one, Ben came back with a second tray full. Luke gulped. Luke wearily ate the delicious food and gave honest answers on his worksheet. He made his way through the first tray like usual and moved on to the second. He was already starting to get full so he knew he had to move quickly. He would shove the entire pastry in his mouth and fill out the sheet while he chewed. Luke groaned as he ate, feeling the pressure in his stomach grow as more and more sugar was dumped inside. After the final pastry he leaned back in his chair and breathed heavily. Luke didn’t notice but his shirt had ridden up to his belly button to reveal the bottom of his swollen middle.

Luke sighed as he continued scrolling through job applications. He’d just graduated college and couldn’t secure a job for the life of him. His lease ended at the end of the month and there was no way he was moving back in with his parents. When he came out two years ago they practically treated him like he was invisible and that he was just going through some kind of phase.

eventually he came across an application to be a taste tester for a bakery. Luke clicked on it and looked at the description. “In desperate need of a young man with a big appetite willing to make sure all baked goods are up to standard. Free housing included with job.” Luke’s eyes lit up. Free housing? He immediately started the application and filled out all of his info before getting to the final step. “Please submit two photos of yourself with no shirt on, one from the front and one from the back.” Luke stopped. “The hell?” Why would they need pictures of him? He was about to close the application before he thought about the free housing part of the job again. “Anything is better than living with my parents…” Luke sighed and took off his shirt. He went into the bathroom to take his pictures. His strong body had been toned by sports and the gym since high school. Luke hade been active and fit for his entire life. He flexed and took the pictures, showing off his toned abs and strong arms.

Luke awoke the next morning to an email from the bakery he applied to. “Hello Luke! This is Ben from big boy’s bakery! We’re reaching out to inform you that you have been hired as our new taste tester! Please come in today for training.” Luke almost screamed when reading, but he quickly contained his excitement and got dressed. He headed down to the bakery soon after and walked inside. A strong man was standing behind the counter. He looked like he worked out everyday, but he wasn’t afraid to eat either. His stomach was just beginning to push against the tight apron he was wearing. “Ah! You must be Luke! I’m Ben, your new manager!” The man spoke up. He gave Luke a tour of the bakery and led him to his housing that came included with the job. It was just out behind the bakery, literally connected through a short hallway. It was a small apartment that had a bed, kitchen, and a tiny bathroom. It was super cramped but anything would be better than living with his parents. Next, Ben showed Luke to his station where he would be working. It was a room in the back of the bakery with a couch, a tv, a Table, and some pictures of pastries on the wall. “You ready to get started?” Ben asked still grinning.

luke sat down as Ben left and quickly returned with a tray of pastries. All unique and all looked delicious. Luke’s mouth watered. “Ok so these are all new recipes I’m experimenting with, and I need you to eat each one and then fill out the feedback form. Got it?” Ben asked. Luke nodded and Ben left the room. There were small labels next to each pastry, and Ben decided to start with “raspberry chocolate croissant” he took a bite and the pastry melted in his mouth. It was flaky, buttery, and the filling was to die for. Luke practically moaned as he took another bite. He finished, then turned to the paper on his right. He had to rate it out of 10, list any changes he would like to see, then add any additional notes or particular flavors that stuck out to him. Luke gave the croissant an incredible rating and then moved on to the next pastry.

before long, Luke had finished the entire tray of pastries and given a review to each one of them. His stomach was bloated from all the sweets, but he got off the couch and looked for Ben. “Done already?” Ben asked as Luke opened the door. “Yup!” Luke smiled. “Great! Well that’s all for today so I will see you tomorrow at 8!” Ben gleamed.

about a week into his new job, Luke was happier than ever. He couldn’t imagine a better job. He woke up, walked about 20 feet to the bakery, sat on the couch and ate a tray of delicious pastries while watching his favorite shows. He usually only worked for an hour or two and then Ben would send him home. A couple times, Ben even sent him home with a few pastries that weren’t selling well.

day 53:

Martin awoke with a sharp pain in his stomach. He sat up slowly and rubbed his groggy eyes. His face was covered in chocolate and cheesecake. Connor had been over last night and with that came thousands of calories being dumped into martins belly. He waddled to the shower and rinsed his face and body off. He lathered his gut with soap and cleaned off the dried up cum from his dick. It took a lot more effort to clean himself now. His gut got in the way of everything. He got out and examined his glistening body in the mirror. How the fuck did this happen. He looked like a normal guy less than 2 months ago. Now he looked like the kind of guy everyone called “big guy” or “fatass”. He put on his stretchiest sweatpants and his largest hoodie to try and cover up. It didn’t entirely work as if he moved at all, his belly would be poking out of the bottom of his sweatshirt. But he had to go out today. He was going to use his grandfathers inheritance to buy himself a new wardrobe. It looked like he wouldn’t be losing this weight any time soon and it was getting uncomfortable just having clothes on, so he’d been walking around the house naked for weeks. on his way to the store he stopped at Chick-fil-A to get breakfast. 12 count of the chicken minis, a breakfast bowl, and a chicken sandwich seemed like an appropriate amount of food. He scarfed it down quickly in the parking lot of the big and tall store before heading in. Inside, a man that looked to be 400 pounds greeted him and pointed him in the direction of clothes that were his size. He tried on a couple 2xls which fit ok but he decided to size up just one more time to give him some room to breathe. He left with an entirely new wardrobe and a new sense on confidence wearing clothes that actually fit him. Ding! “Hey what are you up to? Wanna get pizza?” Read the text from Connor. Looks like his new clothes might not fit for long.

day 68:

Connor had officially moved in a few days ago and it has been brutal for martins waistline. Nightly stuffings, breakfast in bed every morning, house completely stocked with snacks 24/7. It was impossible to not gain weight. one morning Connor woke up Martin by rubbing his gut. He quickly left the room and rushed back in with a few dozen donuts. He sat them on the bed next to Martin and rolled Martin onto his back. “I want you to eat these donuts while I fuck you. Every dozen, we’ll try a different position. And of course, if you stop eating, I stop thrusting.” Martin rubbed his tired eyes and nodded as he reached for a donut. They started simple. Martin laid in his back with his hefty legs resting on Connor’s shoulders. Martin moaned between bites and ate with excitement for a new position as Connor continued thrusting. Martin pushed the last donut of the dozen into his mouth and Connor immediately began to move. He laid on his back and had Martin get on top of him. He stuck his throbbing dick into martins fat ass and thrusted his hips while Martin rode him like a cowboy. In this position, Connor got to feed Martin the donuts. Connor grabbed donut after donut and continued shoving them into martins mouth as he moaned. Glaze and sugar was smeared on martins lips and he mindlessly chewed as donut after donut got placed to his lips. Martin eventually finished the dozen but Connor could tell he was starting to slow down. “Now I’m gonna fuck you like the fucking pig that you are” Connor grunted as he moved Martin back to the bed. Martin got on all fours as Connor was on his knees behind him thrusting passionately into him. Connor placed the box of donuts directly under martins face and he leaned his face down into the box to eat like a pig eating from a trough. Connor placed his hands on martins wide hums and thrusted him back and forth on his huge cock. Connor noticed Martin stopping to take a breath and he immediately pulled out. “No food, no fucking, fatty.” Connor barked. “Please I’m so full…” Martin begged. “Guess these donuts will go to waste.” Connor grinned knowing this would work. Martin whimpered as he turned his head back to the box and lowered to grab another. “Good boy” Connor said as he slipped his dick back inside, thrusting harder than before. Martin continued whimpering as he ate, begging for release. Finally, he finished the last donut and Connor finally released his load into martins growing ass. They both collapsed onto the bed, out of breath. “Here’s your gift for being a good piggy” Connor whispered as he licked frosting and sugar off of martins mouth, making his way down his body to his chest, licking each moob, then down to his massive belly grabbing it and shining it with both hands, making Martin groan. Finally he made his way down to martins desperate cock, already dripping precum, it was ready to release its load. Martin laid his head back in complete relief as Connor sucked. He made his way all the way down his cock until he pressed his lips against his newly grown fat pad, getting a good whiff of martins man musk from sweating so much. Martin didn’t have a small dick either. He was close to 7 inches and Connor treated it like it was 4. Pretty shortly, Martin exploded into Connor’s mouth, letting out a moan that made Connor want to fuck him again.

day 79:

Day 22:

Martin and Connor had been chatting the past couple days and it’s been amazing for some reason Connor wasn’t completely disgusted by his appearance and Martin was glad for that. His weight had plateaued over the past couple of days because he stopped using the gift cards. He decided to use one of them tonight though…

he opened DoorDash and ordered from his favorite pizza place, and like clockwork Connor accepted the order. Martin rushed to the bathroom to fix his curly brown hair and brush his teeth. He wore an oversized hoodie to hide his stomach but tight shorts to show off his other areas…

when Connor arrived he was carrying two pizzas even though Martin only ordered one. “Hey they were gonna toss this one so I figured I’d bring it over since I know you don’t like wasting food” Connor said before Martin could say no. “Uhhh sure. I guess” Martin replied. “busy night tonight?” Martin asked as he grabbed the pizzas and set them on the counter.

“nah not really. Only been a couple orders tonight.”

“Wanna come in? There’s no way I could eat both of these pizzas by myself” Martin said flirtatiously. “yeah sure. Don’t have much else to do tonight.”

they sat on the couch and talked for hours until the pizza was gone. Martin didn’t notice but Connor only ate 2 slices. Martin ate the rest. The night continued and they had shifted closer and closer to each other on the couch. Before long the conversation got quiet and their eyes were locked. Martin felt like he could drown in Connor’s dark green eyes. He leaned in slowly and placed his hand on Connor’s face before locking lips and kissing passionately. Their tongues danced around each others mouths as they explored each others bodies. Martin took off Connor’s shirt and kissed his perfect pecs and then licked slowly all the way from just under Connor’s belly button to the bottom of his chest. Connor smiled and pulled off martins shirt. His belly bounced a little as the clothes pulled on his body. Connor instantly pushed Martin onto his back and held himself over top of him with his huge arms on both sides of martins head. He lifted one of his hands and used it to pull off martins shorts as well as his own. He lifted martins legs and put them on his shoulders as he put his dick inside. Martin moaned and his new gut jiggled with each thrust and for some reason Connor seemed to really like it. Martin noticed and decided to try something. He grabbed his belly and shook it. “Fuck I’m getting big dude…” Connor started thrusting faster and came almost immediately after. Breathing heavy, he fell beside Martin on the couch and kissed his head. “The extra weight looks so fucking hot on you.” Connor said still breathing heavily.

day 30:

a little over a week had gone by since Connor and martins “meet up” and they had met again a few times over the past week. Martin had pulled the gift cards back out and started using them for every meal again. After finding out his perfect man was into a little bit of a belly, what’s the rush in getting rid of it. At least now he wouldn’t have the guilt of letting the gift cards go to waste. He texted Connor all day as he was door dashing. He finally told Connor about all the gift cards his grandfather had left him and explained that’s why he gained so much weight over the past month. Sometimes, Connor would swing by and drop off a wrong order that he was just supposed to throw out. And martin would always eat every last bite.

Connor came over for dinner and brought some cake with him. “What’s that for?” Martin asked. “nothing special. Food lion was having a sale so I figured I’d treat you to dessert tonight.” They sat down and ate the chipotle Martin ordered while they chatted. “So these gift cards” Connor questioned. “How many are there?” “over 100. all to food places or delivery services.”

“shit”

“yeah. Plus they expire at the end of this year so I’ve beet eating out for every meal to try and use them up”

“I can tell” Connor said as his eyes shifted down to martins stomach. Martins face got red but Connor reassured him he looked great with the extra padding. They finished their chipotle, (Martin finished Connor’s leftovers) and Connor brought out the cake. It was a vanilla birthday cake with cream cheese icing. It had “happy birthday Samantha” written in red icing on top. “Who’s Samantha?” Martin chuckled. “Fuck if I know. It’s probably why it was on sale.” Connor replied. Martin cut himself a big slice and Connor just watched. He finished it quickly and put down his fork. “You don’t want any more? I got it all just for you…” Connor pouted. Martin humphed and scrunched his face. He hated wasting food… he grabbed the knife and began cutting another slice. Connor watched lustfully and Martin shoveled bite after bite into his mouth. He was like a bottomless pit. Eating mindlessly past full just because someone told him to. Connor had to cross his legs to hide his erection. Another slice went down smoothly and Martin looked up at Connor. Without saying a word Connor stared at Martin. Then at the cake. Martin got the message. He grabbed a handful of cake and shoved the mess into his mouth. Connor was practically screaming inside watching this unfold. He moved closer to martin and took off his tight shirt. “Don’t want to get any cake on this” Martin continued shoveling handful after handful of cake into his mouth, covering his face in icing and crumbs. Connor began rubbing martins tight gut as Martin began to moan. Connor couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain. When Martin started to slow down, Connor decided to give him a little motivation. He undid martins belt and unbuttoned his straining jeans. Martin let out a sigh of relief and grabbed another handful of cake. Connor continued to peel off martins clothes until he was completely naked. Connor wrapped his lips around the tip of martins dick and looked up at him. “As long as you keep eating, I’ll keep sucking.” Connor said sternly. Martin nodded and continued to chew. Connor felt martins dick grow erect in his mouth as he moved up and down his cock. He kept his eyes locked on Martin as he continued to suck, licking up and down martins pulsating dick. Martin moaned as he ate, a mixture of ecstasy and pain as he continued to swallow the thick cake. Connor reached up and grabbed martins swollen belly and began rubbing and jiggling it. Connor’s dick was begging for release in his jeans almost twitching at the feeling of martins belly in his hand. Connor continued to suck and lick until Martin suddenly stopped. His face was covered in frosting and he was out of breath. “Hey. Remember our deal? You stop eating, I stop sucking.” Connor stated as he removed his mouth from martins cock. “I… can’t eat… anymore” Martin said with laboring breaths. “Hm. I guess I’ll just have to throw the rest away. Nobody is going to want to eat this mess of a birthday cake now.” Connor knew this would work. “Wait…. Don’t… waste any.” Martin exhaled. Connor returned to his knees and looked up at Martin again. Martin grabbed another handful and moaned as he shoved the cake into his mouth and Connor moved his lips onto his dick. Connor sucked slowly and lustfully as Martin continued to eat. Martin was down to a couple handfuls and he looked like he was about to pop. Connor rubbed his belly slowly, occasionally applying pressure. Martin ate slowly and he moaned with each bite. With the final bit in his hand, Martin filled his mouth with the last of the cake and closed his eyes as he chewed slowly and groaned. Connor was getting faster now, determined to drain martins cock. Martin finally finished chewing and swallowed the last bite of cake, and almost simultaneously emptied buckets of cum into Connor’s mouth. Connor took it like a champ, swallowing fiercely as more and more poured out of martins dick. Connor eventually stood up and whispered in martins ear, “good boy.” Connor helped Martin to the couch and left him naked and bloated, lying on his back. “See you tomorrow” Connor said as he left.

day 44:

day 0:

Martin sighed as he continued going through his grandfathers old junk. He had just passed away about a week ago and Martin was left to clean up his house and get it ready to sell. Martins parents had both died in a car accident when he was 5, and he lived with his grandfather for practically his whole life. Now, freshly 20 years old, he was the only family member alive or close enough to be the one to clean up.

he wiped sweat off his face and stood up to stretch. He had been at this for a few hours and it was getting late. He decided to go through one more box before heading to bed for the night. He spotted a small one in the corner labeled “gifts”. Maybe grandpa was doing some early Christmas shopping. But to his surprise, Martin opened the box to find stacks upon stacks of gift cards. He looked through them and decided to sort through to see where they were all for. He ended up with ten different piles. There were 14 gift cards for Chipotle, 12 for McDonald’s, 16 for Taco Bell, 18 for five guys, 15 for Cheesecake Factory, 11 for subway, 19 for DoorDash, 16 for Texas Roadhouse, 20 for Burger King, and a whopping 34 for miscellaneous restaurants and delivery services. “What the hell was he doing with all these damn fast food gift cards?” Martin muttered to himself. He also noticed one last thing when sorting; they all expired at the end of this year and it was already September.

day 1:

Martin decided he wouldn’t want the gift cards grandpa bought to go to waste. He had always been that way. If something was on his plate, he would eat it. He hated wasting food. That had come back to bite him in the last year or two though as his natural abs from playing sports in high school started to soften. You couldn’t notice a difference as long as Martin had a shirt on, but Martin noticed. He wasn’t in a hurry to lose it or anything, but he was definitely aware.

he got up early and headed to ihop to use his first of many gift cards. It was $50 so he decided to splurge and use it all in one go. He ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes, some French toast, bacon, scrambled eggs, and some coffee. He ate with speed and grace and not before long he was down to only French toast. Martin had gotten full before he even ate the bacon but he could struggle through the French toast if it meant not wasting food. Each bite made him slower, pushing his gut to the max. He groaned as he chewed, trying not to pay attention to the pain in his midsection. Eventually he ate the last bite and leaned back in the booth with his eyes shut. He breathed heavy, his bloated stomach rising and falling with each breath.

for lunch, he broke into the subway gift cards. He got himself a footlong turkey sub and scarfed it down quickly before returning to the mountain of boxes in his grandfathers basement. This is mainly how his days went recently as he quit his job to help take care of his grandfather in his final weeks. He was in no rush to get a new one though because grandpa left his entire inheritance to Martin.

Martin awoke to a pitch black house and only the old tv lighting up the room. He must have fallen asleep after packing all day. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his phone. 7:14. He didn’t feel like going back out for dinner so he broke into the DoorDash gift cards and scrolled through the app. He landed on some local burger joint and ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and fries. He decided to treat himself with a milkshake for a hard days work as well. The minute it arrived he ravaged through the bag and finished it all in less than 10 minutes. He went and laid on the couch and turned on some old show to fall asleep to. He mindlessly rubbed his full belly as he drifted off to sleep.

day 7:

“Jesus…” Martin muttered as he looked at the number on the scale. 175. He was up 5 pounds from last week. He walked over to the mirror and looked at his naked body. He put a hand on his stomach and grabbed it. “Shit” he couldn’t grab it last week. He could sort of get a piece of it if he really tried but now he just grabbed a small handful of belly with ease. He put on his clothes and went back to the mirror. As far as he could tell, you couldn’t really see a difference, so it wasn’t that big of a deal but Martin did get a tinge of worry in his chest.

he continued his normal routine of using up the gift cards and sorting through grandpas stuff. He door dashed pizza for lunch and almost gasped when he opened the door. It was the same dasher as the other night, but Martin must have been too tired to notice how hot he was. He was tall, looked to be around 6’2”, he had medium length blonde hair that was pushed back except for a small strand that hung down over his forehead. But the most noticeable thing was his body. He filled out his tshirt beautifly with his huge arms looking like they would rip through the fabric if he flexed. His slim waist and large pecs gave him the perfect triangle shape that Martin always fell for. He had always been straight until he got drunk at a party once and made out with some frat guy. It was the best experience of his life and he’d spent the last year and a half exploring that side of himself. He went to a lot of different parties and tried to scope out hot guys that he thought we be down to do anything with him. This one time, a huge guy that looked like a Greek god approached him and asked him to meet him in his bedroom. The second Martin shut the door the guy took of his shirt and lunged towards Martin to kiss him. They kissed for a while before the guy stood up and told Martin to lay on his stomach and spread his legs. Martin didn’t know what to think. He’d never had sex with another man before and he was nervous until he felt the guys dick start to enter him. He let out an embarrassing loud moan of pleasure and the guy laughed at him. He continued to thrust and Martin took it happily. He quickly snapped back to reality and took the pizza and shut the door. Martin scurried to the window and watched as the man walked down his driveway, his perfect ass filling out his jeans.

While eating the pizza, he looked on DoorDash and found his name. “Connor”. He looked on Instagram as he shoved another slice into his mouth and eventually found him. “Damn” Martin said to himself as he scrolled throug his page. He had a post from a few months ago at the beach with his shirt off. He had the most perfect body Martin had ever seen. He continued scrolling and went all the way back to when Connor was in high school and he found the best part about Connor. He was gay. He had a post with a boy as equally attractive as him, with a caption saying“happy 6 months!” Martin instantly looked for any more posts of his boyfriend and found none. He was single.

day 18: