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moosescissors · 12 days

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Medibesity Labs Part 1

Synopsis- In this 7600 word story a plumped up biotechnologist creates a sexually transmitted pathogen that leads to extreme weight gain in those infected.

Patient 0

Carlos squirmed around on his rolling stool, his business casual button up straining against the fresh belly flesh he’s been rapidly accumulating around his recently toned midsection, and the seat of his pants felt soon to be spitting open around his rounded, beefy ass. He should’ve upgraded his work attire several weeks ago, but if everything goes according to plan then there would be no need.

A few drops of sweat poured down from Carlos’ well styled curls as he focused on pipetting under the vent hood. Phase 1 was already successfully completed, the induction of a gene found to increase hunger by up to a 50% increase in mammals to a nonpathogenic virus similar to a common STD. After the identification of this easy to manipulate gene, this phase had been cake. Carlos’ groundbreaking research in Medibesity Labs was seen as extraordinary, propelling the small lab’s metabolic research to the medical industry’s limelight in their latest and greatest research of helping underweight populations, such as the sick and elderly, to be able to eat enough and maintain a healthy weight. All it took for Carlos to make the virus’ effects more potent was secretly incorporating the gene into the virus’ DNA 9 more times to make this effect multiply tenfold when he tested on mice at his apartment. Upon seeing the mice eating without abandon, becoming so fat they could barely walk over many months, he knew the grave implications this could have should this ever get into the wrong hands.

After his huge success in his previous research, Carlos’ new research for the beginning of phase 2 was quickly approved. Medibesity Labs was greedy for more fame and profit, and was quickly becoming one of the most well known labs in metabolic research. The newly proposed virus, when it infected its host, should have caused a modest and healthy increase in fat storage speed and quantity. Much to Medibesity Labs’ dismay, the biotech from this phase would never hit the market. During the clinical trials consisting of many rounds of introduction of the new fat storing virus to mice, it was found that the mice would simply not stop gaining weight. While the speed and quantity of fat that the mice accumulated could be manipulated with suppression or greater expression of the gene, it seemed to affect the mice in a way that would not allow them to stop gaining weight once reaching a healthy size as originally hypothesized. Everyone in the lab was horrified to see the abominations they had created… everyone except for Carlos. A little tweaking here, a few reactions there, and Carlos had quickly enhanced the fat storing effects of the phase 2 virus.

The third and final phase of Carlos’ plan was, of course, met with pushback. After the failure of his previous experiment and the rising success of another up and coming competitor, Mediskinny Lab, pumping out new weight loss biotechnology left and right, Carlos knew his latest proposal was not what the Principal Investigator in his lab wanted to see. His PI, Nate, a blond and aging twunk, was not too thrilled about the proposed prospect of a biotech virus whose DNA caused fatigue and increased lethargy as a means of supposedly healthful weight gain. But, with the pressure for success coming from up top to compete with Mediskinny Labs, Nate ultimately approved Carlos’ grant. With this, the fate of phase 3, and perhaps the world, was sealed.

Carlos reached into his backpack to pull out yet another giant burger, quickly throwing away the wrapper to hide any evidence of his poor lab techniques. He really shouldn’t be this hungry again, only 45 minutes after polishing off a meal big enough for a family of 4, but his growling stomach had become quite demanding since testing the phase 1 pathogen on himself. He worked a little faster as he felt his belly swelling out, unsure if it was due to a food bloat or the rapid accumulation of fat already depositing itself all over his body caused by the phase 2 pathogen. And he was so, so tired. After working all day, staying even a few minutes after everyone else went home seemed impossible with the extreme lethargy caused by phase 3. All Carlos wanted to do was drive to the nearest fast food joint and gorge himself on impossible quantities of food until it was time to go home. And the sweat didn’t make his work any easier. While the lab was a cool temperature, Carlos had noticed an unexpected side effect was increased sweat and pheromone production. Despite the excessive amount of deodorant he applied throughout the day, the men in his lab had been staring at him lustfully all day; he practically reeked of a scent so enticing it made any man’s dick rise to attention.

As he finished his final inoculation, the strained button on Carlo’s shirt flew off. As his sweaty, glistening belly fat poured out of the gap in his shirt, he followed the path of the button straight to a picture on his desk. The force of his expanding belly had sent that button flying so hard it cracked the glass of the frame, but the image of Carlos, once fit and lean, accepting a reward for his research during phase 1, could clearly still be seen. Carlos smirked to himself as he looked at his picture. If the 3 segments of DNA from the 3 phases of his plan had been successfully incorporated into the STD’s genome, then pretty soon nobody would be looking like how he did in that picture. While he had tested the 3 experiments on himself, he still needed a perfect patient 0 to ensure the spread of all 3 effects. But who would he use?

Carlos contemplated this as he lazily packed up his things, careful to store the syringe with his viral solution in his long sock. As he started to unwrap the final burger from his bag, the door to the lab opened behind him.

“Oh. Carlos. You’re still here,” The blond twunk said, eying Carlos’ plump frame carefully. His eyes lingered around the exposed blubber. “I was just showing Brad from Mediskinny Labs where he could borrow some extra pipette tips.”

Carlos’ boss, and a very tall, broad, and imposingly angular man walked into the room

“Ah, I was just finishing up for today. Had been pretty slow and needed an extra hour to finish up.” Carlos told Nate, hoping he could squeeze his way between the two men and be off finding his perfect patient 0.

The two men did not move to let Carlos walk by. Nate kept his gaze fixed on Carlos, taking in his expanded figure. His plump arms stuffed into his too tight work shirt, his dress pants encasing his fat hams of thighs like sausages. He licked his lips as he took in the man’s scent, the room was filled with pheromones that caused his dick to make a tent in his pants. “Why don’t you stay for a little longer, Carlos? I could use a fresh set of eyes on that submission I’ve been complaining about.”

“Ah… well… I,” Carlos stammered, already feeling his shirt getting tighter again. And his pants, fuck, he needed to unbutton them urgently. He knew his pathogens would make him fat, but this was just uncalled for.

The imposing man put a hand on Nate's shoulder, not taking an eye off of the beefy scientist in front of him. “The man looks exhausted, why don’t you let him show me where the tips are and get going?”

“Yes, please, I’d like to get going as I have business to attend to.” Carlos said, breathing a sigh of relief. He felt something funny on his legs. Were the stitches of his pants starting to break one by one?

Nate wiped some drool from the side of his mouth. “Alright, if you two insist. Maybe another time for that submission, Carlos.”

Not a second after Nate closed the door, leaving the two men in the lab alone, did both thighs of Carlos’ pants split open and fall to the ground. He quickly tried to pick them up to cover himself, but realized there was no hope of putting the tatters back on. He smiled sheepishly at Brad, standing in nothing but a jock strap that exposed his bubble butt and a shirt with another button that couldn’t hold on much longer as his body digested and made him fatter. “Sorry about that.” He said, still holding his shredded pants.

Historically, Brad and Carlos had a bit of a rivalry, being the leading researchers in their respective labs. But with the ever growing hardness in his pants, this was not the time for petty disputes. Brad rubbed his beard and licked his lips, “No need to be shy. We’re top competitors right? I make people lose weight, you make people gain weight. It’s only fitting that you match the image of the products you make.”

Carlos stepped closer, his body jiggling. He had nothing but resentment for Brad, disgusted by the prospect of wanting to make the world a skinnier place. He couldn’t stand this man, and yet he had an idea. “You are very fit,” Carlos said breathily, trying his best to confidently seduce in his plumped up new body. “There’s a reason they used you as a model on all of Mediskinny’s products.”

“And you’ve been putting on a lot of weight ever since you made your big appetite stimulate. I never thought I’d say this, but the weight suits you. You got fat and it’s sexy as hell.” Brad started to unbutton his shirt, revealing his furry but chiseled pecs.

Giddy with the excitement of his master plan coming to fruition, Carlos didn’t even notice how tight his shirt had been becoming. The bottom button flew to the floor as his soft belly expanded outward, his happy trail quivering with the release.

“Let’s get that thing off you, big boy.” Brad purposefully stepped to Carlos and with large, forceful hands ripped his tight shirt off down the middle, increasing the man’s scent and causing instinct to take over. He pulled down his own pants and underwear, revealing a 10 inch dick standing at rock hard attention, ready to take on the swelling, beefy man’s body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. He grabbed Carlos’ love handles and turned him around, Carlos instinctively leaning over onto a lab bench, knocking over empty beakers in the process.

Brad looked at the man’s globular ass, two jiggly cantaloupes ready for his throbbing cock. Carlos took a deep breath as he felt the tip start to enter, and hoped that his new ass blubber would keep the man’s giant member from going too deep.

“Hold on, I have lube,” Carlos said, a devious grin on his face. He reached down to his sock and pulled out the syringe. “Make sure to get it deep in my hole.”

“You fat, kinky bastard.” Brad smirked, and poured the lube-like liquid from the syringe deep into the ]man’s chunky ass as instructed. He carefully inserted his dick, and fucked Carlos so hard that his new, plump man tits slapped on the cool lab bench, stimulating his puffy nipples. With every pulse Carlos winced in pleasure, allowing himself to enjoy the moment knowing that everything was quickly about to change in the world. He enjoyed every jiggle and quake as he was fucked, feeling the fat slowly but noticeably expanding his body and thinking about what he wanted for dinner until the beautiful man’s cum filled him and leaked out, mixing with the sweaty sheen on his blubbery hindquarters.

Patient 1

The server opened the grandiose double doors, welcoming the rather handsome and imposinly tall gentleman into the luxurious restaurant. Immediately the man’s musky scent mixed with the ambient air of grease and meat, a welcomed change to the sly server’s delight. Immediately his dick rose to attention in his elegant pants, his uniform contrasting with his edgy appearance. With a buzzed head, eyebrow piercing, and tattoo sleeves down his arms strong from carrying so many trays, Jax’s appearance did not exactly match the ambience of the luxury buffet, but he was just there to bring people their food, and many guests appreciated the edginess his look brought. Plus, he looked damn good when he cleaned up for work.

“Excuse me sir,” Jax called to the entering man who had paid him no attention. “Unfortunately we have a dress code, and sweatpants and tank tops aren’t allowed.” He definitely was not eager to turn this man away. One look at his frame, and immediately Jax knew he wanted to sleep with him. Broad shoulders, attractive beard, an athletic build disguised behind a round belly, just barely sticking out from under his black tank top. Jax couldn’t help but wonder why such a handsome man would be wearing such poorly fitting clothes, but he had no complaints. The more meat on display, the better.

“Ah come on, I’m starving.” The tall scientist said, rubbing his grumbling belly. “Can’t make an exception just this once?”

Parts 2 is already live on the patreon under the Full Buffet tier - Patreon.com/YourFattener

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moosescissors · 1 month

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The Feeders' Fortress

It was the dirty floor against his face that Mike noticed first. His head felt fuzzy and the room was so incredibly dark. It was impossible to work out where he was. He stumbled groggily to his feet, realising that he was dressed only in his underwear. What the hell kind of party had he been to last night to wake up here? Then again, had he been to a party last night? His head was so disorganised.

Reaching around the space, Mike tried to find his clothes and, hopefully, his cell phone so that he could find some light. As he did so, he heard footsteps creeping outside of the room and, for the first time, a streak of light through the crack under the door.

“There’s another one in here!” cried a deep masculine voice as the door opened and Mike suddenly had a small torch shone straight into his face. “Same as us. Underwear. No clothes in sight.”

“What’s going on?” Mike asked indignantly.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” sighed another voice beside the person shining the torch. He reached out his hand and lowered the light so that Mike was no longer blinded. Where the light touched, Mike could see the dilapidated interior of the house he was in: filthy, boarded up and crumbling. Tired, dated pieces of furniture lay haphazardly around the edges of the room, some covered poorly with dust sheets.

“What is this place?” Mike mumbled, getting to his feet.

“Someone’s creepy idea of a joke, no doubt,” came another voice as the footsteps of the guys entered the room. “It looks like your classic haunted mansion. All the windows and doors are locked tight and we haven’t found the way out yet.”

“If there even is one,” replied a pessimistic voice.

“Of course there is,” disputed the guy holding the torch who had seemed to appoint himself the leader. “We got in here somehow, didn’t we? So there has to be a way out.”

The others sighed. None of them claimed to know how they had arrived, each arguing their alternative theories about why they were there. None of them had before. They were all strangers. But, to Mike, there was one clear detail that each of them had in common: outstandingly good looks.

Finn, holding the torch, was a quarterback for the local college team and, even in the limited lighting, Mike could tell that the guy was more strapping than anyone he had ever seen on the pitch. The person standing beside him was Oliver; even taller and toned to absolute perfection. Like Mike, he did some modelling whilst studying in college. Mike knew the agency that he worked for and, whilst the other two were arguing about which direction to search next, the pair discussed the surprising stresses they had encountered with certain jobs they had done. The only other guy was Rob, another football jock for a rival team of Finn’s, though neither of them claimed to know the other. He was built for clear functional athleticism, with the lightest six pack of all of them and a meaty, muscular butt. Delicious.

Even now, in this bizarre situation, Mike could feel himself getting aroused in their presence: these three gorgeous, practically naked boys. Together, they were calm, even jovial. They bolstered each other’s confidence, methodically searching the large building as if they were trying to hide the fact that they were silently terrified. There had to be answers to their questions somewhere in this building.

“What’s down there, do you think?” Oliver asked as they shone the torch down some stairs.

Out of habit, Mike flicked the light switch, expecting nothing to happen, when suddenly, the whole room below lit up perfectly.

“Success!” roared Finn, heading straight down; soon followed by the others, at quite some pace.

What lay below was the most bizarre of sights: a small, neatly made up dining table, filled with tasty treats: cakes, doughnuts, cookies and pastries; all fresh and smelling incredible. Such a homely scene lightened the mood further, with Finn and Rob heading to sit down at the table and Mike following them, if only to hide the tightness in his crotch which would be clearly evident in this well lit room.

“I knew we’d be alright! This just proves it. It’s definitely some sort of prank,” Finn smiled, reaching out for one of the doughnuts.

Oliver stood to the side, surveying the scene with more scepticism. “Isn’t this a bit fucking weird?” he asked. “This whole place is a shit hole, and now this?” he pointed at the homely scene before him.

“Relax!” Finn scoffed at him, already chewing on a bite of the doughnut. “It tastes fine.”

Rob reached out next, picking up a pastry, now that Finn had sampled the goods. Meanwhile, Mike had his eye on one of the cupcakes, feeling surprisingly hungry after waking up here. Eventually, even Oliver followed them to the table,sitting down at the fourth chair, picking up a cookie and nibbling it with only a small amount of hesitancy.

Under the light, it was clear just how beautiful these guys all were. Mike found himself trying not to stare for fear that his erection may get even more severe if they all had to get up soon and explore the place some more. The mood was relaxed and surprisingly light-hearted as Finn reached for a second and third doughnut before any of the others had even finished their first chosen snack.

“Who do you think made all these?” Oliver asked the guys.

“Whoever it is pranking us,” Rob replied, scanning the room for cameras as he sat at the table.

Mike sat up nervously. He didn’t want to be on camera right now. Not with his erection as it was.

Mike suddenly felt a slight prod on his arm as Oliver looked at him seriously, pointing across to Finn. The movement caught Rob’s attention as well, until all three of them were gazing at a now motionless Finn, staring down at the table and seemingly stunned after finishing his third doughnut.

“Are you alright, buddy?” Rob asked, noting the sweat that was glistening on Finn’s face.

Finn looked up slowly until his eyes met with Mike’s right across the table from him. His jaw was slack as he picked himself up by leaning his strapping body on the table. Then, from out of nowhere, a giant burp erupted from his throat, right in front of Mike. It was so loud and deep, completely unnatural after such light snacks, making the three others stare across in panic.

“What the fuck?” Oliver asked, standing up in alarm, sensing immediately that something was wrong. It was then that Mike noticed that Finn was not as slim as he had thought; that for all his muscles, he was actually carrying a little paunch that looked bizarrely out of place.

FInn’s hips started to rock, like he was fucking some invisible girl in front of him, and, even in his loose fitting trunks, it was clear to Mike that the guy was also nursing an erection.

“What’s he doing?” Rob shouted; his eyes similarly caught by the shape of Finn’s stomach. Each time the guy rocked back and forth, the budding love handles at his sides seemed to swell more and more.

At some point, all three of them realised what was happening. It was the way Finn’s gut began to flutter and jiggle with the shaking. Fat was ballooning in his stomach, actually pushing it outwards. The relaxed fit of his underwear began to disappear as the gentle creases stretched out and the material tightened around him, spurred on by an obvious widening of his tight butt. It was then that Mike began to observe even Finn’s chest starting to succumb; his nipples pointing and a softness spreading into his pecs. It seemed to bloom and spread itself under his arms, softening up his biceps at the same time and swelling his neck; producing a shameful double chin.

Oliver was still the only one up, with Mike and Rob still stunned in their seats. Then, without warning, Rob suddenly bolted for the stairs, grabbing the torch at the same time.

“What do we do?” Oliver asked Mike in pure panic, clearly desperate to follow Rob and get the hell out of there.

Finn’s sweaty body glistened as fat spread throughout. The blubber began to pour itself over the tight waistband of the guy’s underwear, now digging in quite painfully. Mike could see the guy looking down at himself in shock and alarm: his beautiful body becoming more and more obese.

Mike had no answer for what was happening or what on Earth they were supposed to do about it. He could see Oliver looking back towards the dark stairs; no sign of Rob at all. More than once, Mike thought that Oliver might run off in fear as well. If he did, Mike decided he was going to run straight out with him.

A general widening seemed to take place in Finn’s body. The love handles pushed out to further extents and his hips swelled above the two extremely blubbery thighs. The guy’s cute underwear had allowed his large, sweaty glutes to slip out as the inflation took hold. Now the material began to tear; stretched as they were in every direction.

Within no time at all, Mike realised that Finn was now carrying an insane amount of fat on his body; 400 lbs? 450? His underwear were reduced to little more than rags, still dangling from a destroyed waistband; an entire sack of lard now filling Finn’s groin.

Oliver bolted, quickly followed by a petrified Mike, throwing himself up the pitch-black stairs. “Wait up!” he cried out in horror, wincing as his feet stepped over the debris and dust. All he could do was follow the sounds of Oliver’s lightning footsteps.

Suddenly, Mike felt himself bumping straight into Oliver, knocking them both to the floor.

“Watch it!” Oliver grumbled. “What the hell were you running for? We can barely see a thing!”

Mike’s mouth filled with all the things he wanted to say and then, just as quickly as they arrived, nothing. Why was he running? Had something scared him? No. He would have remembered that. He shuffled to his feet. “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling rather silly. “I must have just been trying to catch you up.”

Oliver shushed him and the pair listened intently as voices came from another wing of the enormous house. They began stepping in the same direction, noticing faint glows of the torch around one corner.

“But this is the way I came in!” argued a new voice. “The door was open, and now…” he shouted, banging forcefully on what appeared to be the front door.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Oliver bellowed, finally spotting Rob standing next to a police officer.

The relief that Mike felt was indescribable. Tall, built and appearing nothing but strong and capable, the police officer turned to face them both, shining a second torch in their faces.

“Is this all of you?” the cop asked.

“No, there’s another guy,” Rob mumbled, as if he couldn’t quite remember exactly. “Finn. He’s downstairs somewhere. He was eating some food we found,” he continued; his voice wispy, like he was trying to piece something together. He’s pretty big and heavy though. I don’t suppose he wants to go walking all around this place at that size.”

Mike nodded, realising that Rob was probably right. That must have been why Finn stayed down in the basement.

“Well, this door has locked behind me. I don’t have any signal on my cell phone and there doesn’t seem to be any reception for me to contact the station on my radio,” the cop explained grumpily. “I guess you had better take me to see this Finn guy so that I can check on him too,” he finally decided, slamming into the heavy door one final time, just in case it budged at all.

Oliver and Mike took one torch, whilst the cop and Rob walked ahead with the other.

“Do you think he’s a real cop?” Oliver whispered to Mike. “This whole thing just seems to be getting weirder and weirder, don’t you think?”

Mike pondered the idea. He’d not imagined that the cop was not genuine. But Oliver was right. Here he was, wandering around, almost naked in an abandoned mansion with no idea how late at night it was. Absolutely anything was possible.

“Where exactly are we?” he shouted ahead to the cop. “How did you know to come looking here?”

The cop began explaining the exact location of the mansion. “This old place has been crumbling for years,” the guy stated, after informing them all how far out of the city they were right now. “We used to get calls about trespassers quite a lot, but that all stopped about six months ago. Until tonight.”

In the dim light, Mike could feel Oliver looking at him from the side. The guy wasn’t trusting a word that was coming out of the cop’s mouth.

“Something’s up with Rob,” Oliver whispered a few moments later, when they had slowed their pace to allow the other two to go even further ahead, in search of the stairs to the basement. “Have you noticed how much he is sweating?”

Mike shone the light a little more on Rob. Oliver’s observations were spot on. The guy’s broad back was glistening with sweat, running down his back and drenching into his boxers, all down his butt crack. Something about it all seemed so familiar, although Mike couldn’t put his finger on why. Was this a bad sign? Was it something to be feared?

“We need to keep our distance from him,” Oliver decided, pulling Mike back a little bit more to let the cop and Rob get even more ahead of them. They kept a slow pace behind and waited as the pair eventually found the staircase down to the basement, heading straight down.

“What’s going on?” Mike asked, feeling that Oliver’s senses were sharper than his own; his instincts better.

Oliver rubbed his face, clearly stressed. “I don’t know!” he sighed. “But something tells me it’s going to be me and you finding our way out of here. I don’t trust that cop, and as for Rob…” he whispered. “I just have this really bad feeling.”

Suddenly, the cop was shouting at the top of his voice from the basement, startling both Oliver and Mike.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he blasted. “What are you doing?”

Racing down, Oliver took the lead, standing on the staircase in front of Mike as they looked on at the scene. Rob’s body was rocking and shaking, his tight abs suddenly swollen and buried. The cop stood crouched to the side, his gun out and seemingly very afraid. Whatever was taking over Rob had a very firm grip on his body; thrashing him about as his stomach continued to grow.

In those moments, Mike suddenly remembered what he had witnessed happening to Finn. How could he ever have forgotten? There Finn was, snoozing on the floor, encased in mountains of fresh fat.

“What’s going on?” the cop demanded of Oliver and Mike.

“The food!” Mike mumbled, seeing it all there, continuing to invite them in. “There’s something in the food!” he stated with more certainty as Rob’s fine torso began to be consumed with an onslaught of blubber, swelling into his pecs and rounding out his stomach so that it pushed out further and further. The guy was panicking, managing to waddle around as his body shook, and he gazed at all the food that Mike was now blaming. Just what was it doing to him?

“But we ate the food as well,” Oliver shot back, terrified and transfixed as Rob’s butt widened in those cute little boxers of his; fat starting to crease the skin on his back and love handles swelling out further every single second. The butt crack began to peak out as the glutes grew; little more than an inch to begin with, then more and more; until his super sized butt was almost entirely outside of the underwear. That was when it ripped at the weaker stitching between his lardy legs and the material began to deteriorate quickly; all the elastic stretched beyond its capacity.

Mike put a comforting hand on Oliver’s strong shoulder, hoping to ease his worries in any way that he could.

The cop had fallen to the ground, backing up into the corner by the stairs and holding his gun out still; no longer so big, strong and tough.

Oliver reached his hand up and lovingly held Mike’s own hand upon his shoulder. Despite everything, the sensation of Oliver’s touch was all Mike needed.

Rob had fallen onto the floor, the transformation seemingly at an end, and a deathly silence filled the room.

“We’re fucked!” Oliver sighed. “Absolutely fucked!” He looked at Mike, his eyes full of concern for him. “Will it be us next, do you think?” he asked Mike, still holding his hand sweetly.

At that moment, Mike felt so completely smitten. Yet he nodded. “I think so,” he agreed sadly.

“What the hell are you on about?” the cop demanded of them both, still clearly terrified from what he had just seen. “Food can’t do that to someone! Not like that, anyway.”

“There’s no other way to explain it,” Oliver shrugged. “It took Finn first because he had eaten the most. Now Rob…”

The police officer stared hard at the two enormously fat guys on the floor and then looked in amazement at all the food still resting on the table. But then, his eyes widened even further and he stood up in horror. “Those doughnuts!” he shouted, looking straight at the unusually colourful and sprinkled treats on the table. “There was one just like it on my desk earlier! I thought it was from one of my colleagues.”

Mike and Oliver looked at each other with worry. Was the guy who was here to rescue them, actually just another victim?

“But did you eat it?” Oliver demanded of him.

“Yes, I ate it!” the cop shouted back, getting angry now. He seemed to feel faint, getting hot under the collar and putting back his gun so that he could take off his shirt.

Again, Mike and Oliver looked at each other. Why was the cop getting so sweaty all of a sudden? They watched as he shuffled around, leaning against the side, kicking off his shoes and even pulling off his socks, as if every piece of clothing was irritating his skin.

“Um, Sir…” Oliver cried out awkwardly as the cop untied his belt, discarding even his gun without a care, then unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.

In this state, it was clear to see what the cop had had in common with the four of them; young, handsome and highly athletic as he clearly was.

“Oh, no!” the cop mumbled, tensing all the muscles in his strapping body.

“What’s happening?” Oliver whispered to Mike.

“It must be trying to take him,” Mike shot back. “I think he’s actually trying to fight it.”

Both Mike and Oliver climbed two steps further up the stairs, abandoning the cop and knowing that there was nothing they could do to help him now. The gorgeous officer was grunting and bracing himself against the wall. The sounds he was making reminded Mike of the guys he had seen in the gym trying to lift extremely heavy weights.

“I can’t watch!” Mike whispered to Oliver, who had taken a further step up to sit beside him on the stairs and kindly draped his arm over Mike’s shoulders.

“We must,” Oliver whispered back. “We’ve got to see if he can do it. Who knows, right?”

“Maybe he can fight it off,” Mike agreed hopefully.

“Shit,” Oliver replied, quickly shutting Mike down. “Look at his abs. Can you see? The skin around them is starting to bloat up.”

Oliver leaned his head against Mike’s and rubbed his back soothingly. The arousal Mike felt was spiking once again and he found himself momentarily lost, even as the cop battled on only a few feet away.

“It’s a battle that cannot be won. This guy only got married last year,” Oliver continued, as they both looked across at the police officer. “Yet he’s already cheating on his wife with a new recruit at his station. That’s why he ate the doughnut. He thought it was from her.”

Oliver’s voice was so soothing and intense. Mike felt as though he could sit there all day long admiring the perfect man beside him. But, what was he actually saying? Mike had to replay it in his head, before the obvious question dawned in him. “How do you know that?” he asked.

“His secret girlfriend says she can’t resist those tight little buns of his,” Oliver whispered teasingly, as if trying to hold back a laugh. “Not so tight anymore. Wouldn’t you agree, Mike?” he asked; the pair of them watching as the cop growled loudly in desperation to hold back whatever force was taking him. But Oliver was right; slowly, but surely, the guy’s butt had started to develop some extra meat to it, rounding the glutes in a way that only fat ever could.

“What are you saying?” Mike asked, feeling Oliver’s presence becoming more powerful.

“Shh,” Oliver soothed, rubbing Mike’s back and continuing to lean his head against his, forcing them both to watch the action in front of them. “We can’t have a cop that handsome walking around, can we?”

Mike’s heartbeat rose to new heights. The person who was controlling all of this had been with him the entire time. His body tensed, making Oliver sigh in happiness as he stuck close to him on that step.

“I love this bit!” Oliver continued whispering, as if telling Mike a bedtime story. “Can you see how he’s trying to hold his breath? He thinks he can force it back down, but he can’t. The formula has now spread into every cell in his body.”

Even with the officer trying to hold on tight, a slow, insidious tire of fat was gently forming over his abs and budding softness grew into love handles. The effort of holding his breath was taking it out of him; his eyes were screaming for release and cheeks had filled with air. Now his eyes were shutting tight, as if to concentrate even more, when a tiny burst of air slipped through his lips like a leaking pipe; more and more, until the floodgates had opened and he had to let it all go; sucking up a great big chestful of air and then burping like never before; all control stripped from him.

That brief pause in the guy’s attention was seemingly all this formula had needed to take control. The hips began thrashing about with surprising violence, with his stomach and rear inflating with remarkable speed; as if making up for lost time.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Oliver asked, kissing Mike sweetly on the side of his head. “So much fat! The thighs, the chest and the arms!” There was such a thrill in his quiet voice, as if he was deliberately controlling his elation to creep Mike out even more.

“Why are you doing this?” Mike asked; eyes still fixed on the ballooning cop as his jawline disappeared under the building flesh in his neck and chin, and blossoming into his cheeks.

“Because I can… And because I want to,” Oliver quietly replied, as he continued to stroke Mike’s back. “Look at him!” he cooed. “Pecs are gone already!”

Mike watched as the officer’s nipples started to bounce and his thick thighs swelled outwards, blowing up his butt to a size that was almost disproportionate to his frame.

“I wonder what his girlfriend will say about him now,” Oliver joked, knowing that Mike would be looking at exactly the same thing. “A disgusting, overfed, fat ass like that!” he whispered gently into Mike’s ear, making every part of the boy tingle with a baffling excitement. “You’re going to be a fat boy, just like him soon…” the devil whispered into his ear.

Mike wanted to get up and run, but being so close to Oliver felt like something he had longed for his entire life. Was this what love felt like? This yearning to be with someone, no matter what?”

Oliver began to caress the tip of Mike’s throbbing hardness under his underwear. “How exciting for you. A whole new life for yourself as one of my fatties,” he teased, turning his head so that he could whisper directly into Mike’s ear as he watched the cop continuing to become even more extremely obese, lose his balance and slide against the wall; landing with a splat on his enormously overgrown backside. Yet, even sitting down, his butt and thighs continued to spread out onto the floor; the rolls and blubber that decorated his torso, softening and spreading; folds deepening every second.

Then, just like that, the cop had fallen asleep; his revoltingly obese body resting after the dramatic trauma it had just endured. Mike gasped, but not because of the sight in front of him. It was Oliver, continuing to massage his erection. He was brought so close to climaxing, that when Oliver brought his lips towards him, Mike moved swiftly to meet them in a deep, passionate kiss.

As they came out of the kiss, Oliver gently stroked Mike’s hair back from his face. “I’ve so enjoyed our time together,” he smiled with delight. “You’ve been so entertaining, from the very start.”

Mike smiled back, in awe of the amazing man who was giving him all the attention he could ever wish.

Oliver brought his nose close to Mike’s neck and sniffed in deeply all the way up to the top of his head. “I can smell my formula inside of you!” he breathed with genuine eroticism at the thought. “It’s getting ready to take you!”

Oliver took Mike by the hand and stood him up. The pair came down the stairs, stepping over the gigantic cop’s outstretched legs and into the light properly. There was not a single part of Mike that wanted to resist.

“Let’s take these off, shall we?” Oliver asked, pulling the underwear down so that they dropped around Mike’s feet; his hardness springing out with an almost embarrassing enthusiasm “You’ve been such a good boy, this whole time. I picked the cop as the one who would be able to hold out the longest, but I’m so glad that it was you. Such a handsome boy!” he marvelled, stroking Mike’s face. “When I saw you in that magazine, I knew I had to take you.”

“I’m all yours!” Mike spluttered lustfully back; for some reason, only wanting Oliver to touch him again like he had on the stairs.

“Do you really mean that?” Oliver asked, barely concealing a grin behind those innocent looking eyes.

“I do!” Mike nodded. “I would do anything for you!”

“Then prove it,” Oliver snapped. “Don’t make me wait for you. Take another piece from the table and overdose on my formula just like that first idiot did,” he ordered. “Set my beautiful formula into action!”

Inexplicably, Mike’s feet were taking him towards the table. If this was the way to please Oliver, he needed to show him that he could do it. He grabbed at a doughnut and made to push it towards his mouth. However, just as he almost made it, Mike’s hand stopped and tried to push back. There was some invisible, subconscious part of his brain, still active and working, despite the fogginess that was clouding everything else.

Oliver smirked, as if he knew exactly what was going on; why Mike’s hand was not letting him eat. He seized the guy’s wrist and pushed it forwards with remarkable strength as Mike made every effort to keep his mouth wide open and let it fall onto his tongue. He bit down, watched carefully by Oliver, standing in front of him, smiling victoriously,

By the second bite, Mike felt his jaw slacken and stop working. A rumbling burp rolled from his throat, entirely unchallenged. The haze around him seemed to have grown more intense. Oliver was still in front of him, but circling around like a sergeant major conducting an inspection, or a killer whale startling its prey. It was only when he heard the man laughing that Mike knew his hips had begun to rock. He had no idea how the cop had tried to fight it off. The autonomous nature of whatever process this was, seemed entirely beyond his understanding. A warmth was filling his body; building and strengthening. Then that warmth seemed to spread itself across those areas that Mike had seen on the other guys: his stomach felt almost red hot, whilst his butt and legs were tingling and changing rapidly.

Oliver’s hands were seizing upon him, grabbing and pinching parts of his body that Mike didn’t even know existed. Mike tried to speak, to ask Oliver if it was working, but his mouth could not shape the words. Only a groan made it out, shaken and rocked by the vibrations of his instantaneously transforming body.

Waves of fat began to bounce and crash into each other as Mike felt fresh flesh developing all over his body. A few seconds in, he had thought that Oliver had grabbed at his hardness again. However, he soon realised that it was the tip of his penis slapping against an enormous roll of fat that had invaded his torso. He looked down, seeing the remarkable width of his squishy stomach and the strange pointing of his nipples.

Oliver’s voice was far from soothing now. He was shouting and calling him out on his grotesquely overfed body; telling him how greedy he was, or likening him to a pig. He even oinked triumphantly right down Mike’s ear.

The body that Mike was in no longer felt like his own anymore. His whole being had been transported into that of something new. The space that he occupied was incredible, surging outwards more and more. He lost his balance, feeling his giant self being collected by Oliver’s unnaturally strong arms as he was gently lowered to the ground.

Mike got a look at his disgusting, blubbery physique, wondering how he would ever use it. How could he do anything with that enormous belly in the way? How could he get himself up the stairs to his apartment? He’d certainly never squeeze himself into his tiny shower, or find any clothes at regular stores to cover himself up with.

“Goodnight, Fat Boy!” Oiver sang as Mike felt his eyes getting heavy. He knew he'd never see Oliver again. He’d served his purpose. He’d entertained. Now came the sleep that would erase everything from his mind. The factory reset that would prepare him for his life as one of Oliver’s fat boys.

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