#gainerstory

[feeder86]

The 1%

It had been such a thrill, finding that the scouts had picked him; those same experts who had signed up the likes of Harley Hawkinson and Carl Williams. Did they really see the same potential in Nicko as they had done in those superstar football players? It all felt so surreal as he got off the plane to Oklahoma and entered the training facility. 

Nicko knew it wouldn’t be easy to prove himself. He looked around the large sports hall, filled with over one hundred large, athletic college guys, all hoping for the same dream of a professional sports contract: to play the game that they loved and get paid handsomely for it.

“As you all know, the modern game of football is dominated by guys who are more muscular than we have ever seen before,” an older guy explained to them from the staging area during this first welcome meeting. “In the last three years, we have seen the average weight of a professional football player increase by 30lbs. And that number looks set to continue to increase.”

Looking around at the other guys, Nicko couldn’t help but understand why he was saying this. Sure, the guys around him were full of talent. How else would they have got here otherwise? But put them on a field with the professionals out there these days, and they would get trampled down in seconds. They all knew it. None of them had the muscle and the bulk that was needed to survive in a big league game.

“Our training scheme and medical support can give you that last hope of achieving your dreams,” the man on stage went on; selling the scheme which each of them had already signed up for. They all knew this was their only real shot at success. These days, no professional football player got anywhere without the experimental drugs offered in places like this; not that anyone would ever admit it outside of these walls. “So, my advice to you is, train hard and work with us… Now I’m going to hand you over to someone you will all be very familiar with. We’re so proud of him and delighted that he has given up his time to be with us today. Boys, please may I introduce you to… the one and only… Carl Williams!” he beamed, as the large room of excited college athletes roared into life.

An enormous, hulking mass of man began strutting from the door and onto the stage. He lifted his arm up, accepting all the applause and smiling from ear to ear. Every muscle on his body was pumped and full. Even his forearms looked incredibly developed. Nicko could hardly believe his eyes! His biggest celebrity crush, right here in the same room with him! Carl was known for playing rough and dirty on the field and, in Nicko’s wildest fantasies, he was much the same in the bedroom. Not to mention the fact that, in terms of celebrity bulges, Carl was off the charts. Every gay site he visited had picked up on the fact Carl was packing something absolutely enormous between those giant thighs. 

The man didn’t speak to them for long, but soon had everyone up on their feet, chanting his name. He stuck around too, and was there that evening as they sat down to their first meal together.

“They say he has some sort of sixth sense about which guys will go on to do well here,” Nicko’s new friend, Steve, whispered to him; both of them looking with jealousy at the six young guys who had been invited to sit on Carl’s table.

Nicko shook his head sceptically. “Nah, they’re just the loud ones who know how to sell themselves,” he scoffed, having met a couple of them and deciding that they were not the type of guys he would want to hang around with here; so pumped full of arrogance and self-importance. “We’ve just got to train hard, that’s all.”

Steve exhaled and raised his eyebrows. “I wish that was true,” he mumbled. “But we both know the only thing that sets this training academy apart from the rest is the drugs they use. You can train as hard as you like, but if the drugs disagree with you, that’s the end of the line. Career over.”

Nicko rubbed the spot where he’d had his first injection earlier that day; straight into the muscle at the top of his right butt cheek. ‘Please work!’ he thought silently. There was nothing more he wanted in life than to be up on that top table with Carl Williams.

During the first three weeks, some guys started to stand out remarkably well. Shoulders began to widen, whilst larger glutes and thighs made the training sessions more intense and physical than ever before. Nicko could see the changes in his roommate, Steve, each time he came out of the shower: his biceps bulging and his pecs pumped.

As for Nicko, he had seen only minor changes in his muscle mass, and he was yet to make any impression on the trainers. But as certain guys began to bulk faster, hit harder and dominate on the field, it became more and more of a challenge to stand out, or even stay on your feet.

Egos were beginning to run riot at the camp. Those guys who had quickly responded to the treatments began to strut about with more confidence and ownership of the place than any of them had expected. The larger guys hung out with each other more, sitting together at meal times and excluding those they obviously found inferior.

“Don’t worry,” Steve whispered to him as it was obvious that everything was getting to Nicko. “You’ll respond more to the drugs soon. You’ve just got to focus on the training. That’s the important part.”

Nicko nodded, knowing that Steve didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. In two weeks, they were making their first eliminations, and Steve knew he was heading straight home.

During the assessment, Steve very quickly got a sense of how badly it was going. He was weighed, prodded and poked to within an inch of his life; seeing the same grim faces on the medical professionals all around him. In the end, he was simply sent to a small room and told to wait there for someone to come and speak to him. The afternoon training session was to begin in thirty minutes, but no-one was in a rush to ensure he would make it. The reason for that was obvious: he wasn’t coming back. 

It was no shock to Nicko that he was in this position. The last week in particular had been especially hard. He’d been thrown around by the larger guys in training, beginning to understand how the nerds must have felt back in high school. At twenty-one years old, Nicko was in a place that was little better than a kindergarten playground.

Without warning, and making Nicko jump with surprise, the door suddenly opened and an enormous muscular man entered. It took a couple of seconds for Nicko to focus and recognise the person who was now filling the tiny room they were in, but when he did, he shot to his feet and held his arm out, desperate to shake the guy’s hand. “Carl Williams!” he blasted. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Carl looked across at him with a smirk; his eyes travelling up and down Nicko’s body as he reached out his hand for him to shake. “So you’re Nicko, huh?” he asked, as if trying to hold back a laugh.

Nicko nodded, hardly believing that this meeting was even happening. Carl was even more insanely huge and attractive up close like this.

“Sit down, Nicko,” Carl ordered, grabbing a chair himself. “I need to break something to you.”

“I’m being kicked out, aren’t I?” Nicko shot back, not wanting to draw this out and ruin his one-on-one time with his biggest celebrity crush.

“Oh, of course you are,” Carl chuckled, seeming surprised that Nicko had only just figured it out. “But one of the boys told me you had a bit of a crush on me, so I thought I would come in here to soften the blow.”

Carl gazed at Nicko with a sly grin on his face. He knew that he had embarrassed him and he was enjoying the period of time when Nicko was squirming and desperately thinking of how to respond.

“Um, so… how come I’m going home?” he asked, trying to fill the cringing silence.

“Because you’ve not responded to the drugs the same as everyone else,” Carl shot back, looking at him as though he was stupid for not being able to see that for himself. 

“But there are a few guys who aren’t packing on muscle all that fast either,” Nicko protested.

“Oh, you’re right about that,” Carl nodded. “But you’ve not gained any muscle mass at all,” he stated harshly. “In fact, you’re part of the less than 1% who actually lose muscle mass on this treatment.”

“That’s not true,” Nicko protested. “I have gained weight since I’ve been here.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Carl laughed. “You’ve only gained fat since you started.” He pointed at the slight paunch that always popped out whenever Nicko was on a bulking diet. “All the guys can see that. I hear they’ve been giving you a rough time this week? The medical team spotted a nice collection of bruises on your body this morning.”

“Not too bad,” Nicko lied, not wanting to look pathetic in front of his idol.

Carl simply laughed as if he knew differently. “Sure, sure,” he nodded patronisingly. “Those guys are just learning; being on a football team is like being part of a pack of wolves. So when you see a little piggy on the field with you, you’ve got to go for them.”

Nicko’s eyes bulged at Carl’s rudeness. But the professional athlete simply smiled at him, as if daring him to call him out on his comments. Then, when Nicko kept quiet, the big man nodded in approval.

“I like you,” Carl grinned wickedly. “You’ve got the right attitude and you don’t live too far from where I play, do you?” he asked, having clearly studied Nicko’s notes before coming in. “I’d love to grab a few beers with you sometime in the coming months.”

Nicko nodded his head frantically.

“Good,” Carl smiled, reaching his large hand out to stroke Nicko’s thigh. “Play your cards right and I might even let you suck me off,” he teased, before standing and heading straight out of the room.

Despite the daring, unbelievably hot fantasy Carl had dangled in front of Nicko’s nose: home still beckoned. He had lost. The dream of sporting success and insane riches was now over.

With a mediocre college degree, Nicko settled into an equally mediocre office job, close to home so that he could move back in with his parents. He’d suffered from a great sense of failure after the training scheme had gone so badly. No one wanted to be the first one sent home; he hadn’t even had a chance to say even a quick goodbye to his friends. He’d got himself into quite the slump, finding that no matter what he did, he simply couldn’t shake off the little arching paunch he had developed in Oklahoma. In fact, despite all his careful eating and gym work, it actually seemed to be increasing in size more than anything. 

The same could be said for the rest of his body, with Nicko’s underwear pinching uncomfortably as his tight glutes began to pack on some extra, softening mass. Was he really developing love handles at this age, even after all this exercise? It just didn’t seem physically possible. His date, the weekend before, had even called him out on his extra pounds. Perhaps he had even been right to do so; his profile pictures really were a little out of date these days. It meant that when he got the call from someone on Carl Williams’ staff, trying to set up a date for their beers, Nicko went immediately into panic mode. There was nothing in his closet that was suitable for drinks with a football superstar; at least, nothing that fitted!

“Well, well, well…” Carl smirked as Nicko entered the very private VIP room at the back of the noisy, exclusive club in the city. The enormous 335lb football player looked sexier than ever, all dressed up as he was for a night out. “Let me get a look at you,” he demanded, ruthlessly kicking away the table in front of him with his feet and making space for Nicko.

Having travelled for an hour to get here and arguing with the security outside for twenty minutes that he was a guest of Carl’s, Nicko wanted nothing more than to just sit and have a drink. However, when Carl clicked his fingers and pointed again to where he was being summoned, Nicko only did as he was told.

Immediately, Carl reached forwards, slapping one hand on Nicko’s larger butt and the other on the furthest extent that his paunch was now sticking out. He smiled, bouncing both lightly and seeming to appreciate the new width across the middle of Nicko’s body. “Look at you!” he growled with disgust. “You wouldn't last two minutes on the football field now. My boys would rip you to pieces!”

“I’m trying this new diet…” Nicko began explaining, not knowing what else to say.

Carl winced and shook his head impatiently. “Shh! I don’t want to hear about shit like that.” He leaned right back, then tapped his outstretched thigh, silently telling Nicko to sit on it.

Again, Nicko did as he was old, unable to comprehend that he was getting so close to his football idol. He heard Carl growl in appreciation as Nicko’s torso slipped so easily into his reach. Then, without a word, he began unbuttoning Nicko’s shirt from the very top.

“Wait!” Nicko jumped. “Don’t people come in here?”

“Yes,” Carl replied, unperturbed as he reached the fourth button down.

“What if someone comes in and sees me like this?”

“Then they will see…” Carl smiled, finally reaching the end of the buttons and now splaying the shirt material to the sides, “...THIS!”

Nicko tensed as his fleshy torso was revealed to the one person he had been carefully dressing to conceal it from.

“Fuck!” Carl blasted. “Even the tits are coming in!” he laughed loudly, reaching up and bouncing one of Nicko’s nipples.

Nicko got up, feeling embarrassed. He felt Carl’s strong hand clasp the back of his pants and pull him back over his knee so that Nicko actually fell into the space on the couch beside the football superstar. From there, the enormous man seemed to envelope him, his arm over his body and his face so deliciously close.

“Don’t be shy,” Carl whispered teasingly. “This happens to all the boys at the training camp eventually. Well…” he grinned, raising his arm to show off his incredible bicep, “...almost all.”

“Weight gain?” Nicko asked, feeling his stomach rolling over his belt as he sat, half on his back, with the enormous athlete looming over him.

Carl nodded. “A fat belly, jiggly tits, a giant, doughy butt… you know how it goes,” he laughed; his lips devastatingly near. “But the one percent, well, that boy is always very special.”

Niko nodded, remembering Carl referring to the muscle stimulant medication having an opposite outcome for one percent of the people who used it. Which, in Nicko’s group, had been him. “I’m special?” he asked, aroused by all this attention he was getting.

“Very much so,” Carl grinned, rubbing Nicko’s cheek with an outstretched finger. “The one percent packs on fat faster than anyone else. In less than a year, he can go from a chiselled athlete to a full grown superchub!”

“That can’t be true,” Nicko replied. “They’d never allow something like that.”

“And yet…” Carl laughed, grabbing the roll of fat hanging over Nicko’s belt: his point made. “You really have no concept of how much money there is to be made in football, do you? How vital things like this are for the economy? Fatties like you are just… collateral damage… a necessary evil on the way to creating superstars like me.”

“How do I stop this?” Niko asked, watching the athlete getting up and unbuckling his pants.

“Sucking on this should help,” Carl lied, pulling his monstrously large erection out and slapping it into the palm of his hand. It was even bigger than Nicko had ever imagined, gazing at pictures and videos of the guy’s bulge over the years

Overcome with lust, Nicko slipped his mouth over as much of it as he could, just as he was directed. Everything that had happened since entering this room had been like a dream. Whatever weird things were happening in his life right now, here he was, pleasuring a football champion!

“Oh, yeah! That’s good!” Carl moaned. “Yes! Work that tongue, One Percent! Take as much of me in as you can!”

In those moments, Nicko did not care what was happening to him. He was the luckiest guy in the world, feeling ecstatic as he brought the enormous man to a full climax, simply by using his mouth.

Clearly impressed, a sweaty Carl buckled his belt back up and sat himself down again. “Keep that up and you’ll go far with me,” he sighed in appreciation.

As Carl fixed his clothing, Nicko tried to do the same, beginning to refasten his shirt buttons. However, Carl was still having none of it; placing his large hand very decidedly over Nicko’s and saying ‘no’ in a very strict manner; as if training a puppy.

“Have you ever thought about moving to the city?” Carl asked next.

Nicko shook his head. “I couldn’t afford it. Plus, I don’t know anyone here.”

“Good. That means you wouldn’t go wandering,” Carl shot back bluntly. “I can get you somewhere by next weekend. You can live there, and then you’re close by for me to pop in whenever I want. I keep a few guys that way.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Nicko asked, confused by what he felt were a rush of mixed messages.

“At a game, the front row seats are always the best,” Carl simply replied, leaning across once more and flicking the fat roll that fell over Nicko’s belt. “And this is a show I have no intention of missing…”

It was a couple of months later. Nicko stood at the large picture window of his apartment, still unable to comprehend the amazing view he had over the cityscape. Fully furnished and decorated by professional interior designers, Nicko was living a life he could have only ever imagined in his very wildest of dreams. He was even paid a salary each month and had new bank accounts set up entirely by Carl’s people. And all it took was the signing of several non-disclosure agreements from the athlete’s numerous lawyers.

“It’s time to put that pizza down, Fat Boy!” Carl called out, striding in unannounced, as usual.

Nicko chuckled. He hadn’t been eating any pizza, although you would never have guessed that from looking at him. Upon Carl’s insistence, he wore only his underwear around the apartment, catching glimpses of his increasingly lardy reflection in the many, many mirrors that Carl had insisted was part of the interior design.

“Jeez! Look at you!” Carl laughed, undressing himself at the door, as he always did, and watching as his secret project came waddling into view. He pulled his erection out and stipped even his boxers, standing there as the perfect masculine specimen. “Your tits just won’t quit growing, will they?” he laughed. “And look at this fat butt!” he marvelled, dropping Nicko’s underwear and slapping the oversized glutes which had been filling up at a faster rate since Carl had been sending over take-out most nights. Nicko could tell from the way that Carl was handling them, exactly how the big man wanted to fuck him that evening.

The big mirror in the hallway was always Carl’s favourite spot. He could bend Nicko over the sturdy little desk and watch their reflections as he powerfully bombarded his boy’s chubby’s rear with blow after blow.

“You played well last night,” Nicko offered afterwards as a naked Carl lounged on his sofa for a rest afterwards..

“Yeah, yeah,” Carl sighed, rolling his eyes. He had people blowing smoke up his ass all day long. This wasn’t what he kept Nicko for.

“I felt so proud, I decided to finish all those doughnuts you sent me,” he explained, hoping to please his lover.

“Good,” Carl nodded. “It’s about time you stopped resisting the ways I’m trying to help you fatten faster.” He beckoned Nicko closer, just as the chubby boy had hoped. “So, tell me, how did it make you feel, eating all that for me?”

Still fully loaded and, as yet, unsatisfied, Nicko gasped in excitement as he felt Carl’s hand moving onto his thigh, ready to pleasure him if only he said the right things. “It felt incredible,” he replied, exaggerating. “It made me want to eat even more food and please you so much more,” he continued, feeling his erection having a gentle stroke; so subtle and yet so precise.

“Go on,” Carl demanded, not letting Nicko stop. “Tell me more.”

Nicko gasped, always climaxing pathetically quickly whenever Carl was the one touching him. “It made me so excited to get heavier for you…” he offered.

“Oh, no. That’s not the right word now, is it?” Carl sighed with disappointment. “You’re not just getting heavier, are you? Tell me what’s really happening, One Percent.”

Nicko gave another gasp of arousal, his jaw slackening as the pleasure built. “I’m getting fatter for you,” he replied diligently.

“What else?” Carl demanded again, having found a small crack in Nicko’s defences and prizing it open in any way that he could.

“I’m getting lazier. I don’t exercise. And I eat like a pig,” Nicko whispered, just as he had been trained.

“You are a pig,” Carl shot back at him, spiking Nicko’s arousal even more. The shock he felt over the word was now gone, given how many times Carl had whispered it into his ear whenever he came. Now the word had become a key for unlocking Nicko’s arousal. 

Nicko nodded, gazing submissively into the big man’s eyes. His breathing was heavy and his entire body twitched as the orgasm built.

“Piggy, Piggy, Piggy!” Carl sang teasingly, forcing Nicko’s hardess to erupt explosively yet again.

“My goodness! What on earth have you been eating?” asked Nicko’s mother a few weeks later as he called home for a quick visit.

Nicko could feel his face flushing. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, trying to conceal his stout gut that had quickly formed and dominated his torso. It was all his family wanted to talk about, demanding explanations from Nicko about exactly what he was doing to gain so much weight so quickly. Didn’t he have any regard for his health? His appearance? His ability to find someone nice to settle down with? Just what was this city life doing to him? 

“She’s only thinking of you, Son,” Nicko’s dad offered later that afternoon, as the pair retreated into the TV room to watch the football. 

“I know, I know,” Nicko huffed, trying to concentrate on the game to see how Carl was playing. Then he winced as Carl went in for a big tackle, destroying the opposition.

“Ouch!” Nicko’s dad hooted. “He’s a nasty piece of work, that Carl Williams! Look at him getting up like nothing’s happened. That poor guy will be out for weeks after that tackle.”

“So?,” Nicko replied defensively. “It wasn’t an illegal tackle. He’s not broken any rules.”

“No, just another guy’s shoulder by the looks of things. Third one this season by my count.”

They both watched the screen as Carl strutted about on the pitch, waiting for the medical team to finish up so that play could resume. Nicko knew the football player well enough to know when he was trying to suppress a proud smile.

“A man that big has no place on the football field,” Nicko’s dad continued. “Look at him! His arms are bigger than my thighs! The game has gone ridiculous!”

But Nicko definitely was watching, feeling blood pumping into his groin. He rubbed his fat tummy, just as Carl would have, suddenly knowing that he wanted to gorge himself stupid on fast food on the way home.

“I weighed myself this morning,” Nicko explained, lying on his front, naked on the bed after a particularly boisterous session with Carl. “Three hundred and forty one pounds,” he smiled, rolling a little and grabbing a wedge of belly fat.

“You have to start eating more then, won’t you?” Carl replied, unimpressed. “You’re only just a little heavier than me.”

Nicko laughed. Whilst the fact was true, his and Carl’s bodies were complete polar opposites in terms of composition.

“I mean it,” Carl stated seriously. “Three fifty by next weekend. Make it happen.”

“Am I the fattest of the guys you keep?” Nicko asked, knowing how Carl supported lots of secret lovers all over the city.

“Not even close!” Carl laughed.

“Do you think I could be, one day?”

Carl looked at him seriously, studying his face in a way that he did not usually. Then his answer, when it came, was actually a lot more considered than anything else that usually came out his mouth. “Why? Do you want to be?”

The feeling of having Carl’s attention was a drug that Nicko could never wean himself off. “For you,” he smiled, “I’d do anything.”

With Nicko’s new enthusiasm and commitment, he felt himself rising up the ranks in Carl’s mind. The athlete came over a lot more and took a very active interest in ensuring that Nicko continued to grow as he’d promised he would. One such perk was having free seats to any of Carl’s games; often getting himself on camera as he gorged on corn dogs in the stands.  

“Steve?” Nicko asked as he recognised the man standing by the rest rooms after the game. “How’re you doing, buddy? I can’t believe I’m bumping into you!”

The young man Nicko had met and made friends with in the training camp failed to recognise him until Nicko introduced himself once more. His jaw dropped and he spluttered and mumbled his way through the conversation, clearly not quite believing that they had once been roommates a little over one year ago.

“How did the training camp work out for you in the end?” Nicko asked. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to anyone.”

“Yeah, we got used to that,” Steve nodded. “We’d see guys at breakfast and then… gone. Kicked out. I got down to the final thirty or so. But it got so toxic in the end,” he grumbled, reeling off the names of the guys both he and Nicko had despised: the ones who were now making names for themselves in the professional game. “In the end, I was quite happy to leave.”

Nicko looked down to Steve’s body, noticing a stout little stomach under his pumped pecs. 

Steve noticed him looking and he sucked in hids stomach slightly, clearly feeling a little awkward. “I’ve been trying to keep up the training,” he rambled on, clearly used to making excuses for his appearance. “It’s just hard to balance now I’m working full time as well.”

“It’s much easier when you give into it,” Nicko smiled knowingly. 

“Yeah, well…” Steve smiled awkwardly. “I’m not quite ready for that.”

Nicko wondered whether he should tell his old friend that the weight gain wasn’t going to stop; that just like him, Steve was heading on a path to enormous obesity as a result of their time in the training camp. However, he resisted, giving his old friend the goodbye hug he had never been allowed at the camp, and watching the guy’s meaty, round glutes and stubborn love handles as he walked back to his girlfriend who was now out of the restrooms. If only she knew the body her boyfriend would soon inhabit: another victim of his own lust for sporting success.

It was only now that Nicko realised just how involved Carl had been from the beginning, having invested millions in the training camp they had attended, and reaping fifty times as much in return. It was what he loved most in the entire world; never missing a single event day they held, and personally seeing to it that more and more naive college boys were signed up each year.

“You’re such a good pig these days,” Carl grinned, watching Nicko nibbling on the specially made giant doughnuts that fitted perfectly around Carl’s thick erection. “Just seeing you without your clothes on now… you’re so disgustingly obese, and yet… look at you eat!”

Nicko nibbled and licked the remaining bits up quickly and sat up so that Carl could touch and jiggle his enormous body, laughing as the waves of pure fat travelled in such interesting ways through his entire body. 

“How about we get you somewhere nicer to live than this dump?” he asked, scorning as he looked around the plush, luxury apartment. ��Somewhere a lot more superchub friendly.”

Nicko nodded, happy to live wherever Carl thought was best. As he had grown, the wage that was deposited into his account each month had been increasing more and more. Carl had always been great at incentives. In a couple more months, he would even be able to buy his own place, should he so wish.

“I’m looking for somewhere very exclusive for my original piggy to live in,” Carl explained, bouncing up and pushing Nicko onto his back on the bed. “I’d like it to be somewhere for you both to live together,” he smiled, picking up another cream filled doughnut and pushing it into Nicko’s submissive mouth.

Chewing quickly and swallowing as much as he could, Nicko nodded with interest. “This is the guy you first went on the training course with? Your fattest boy so far?”

“You wait until you see him!” Carl grinned excitedly. “Mountains and mountains of pure blubber!” he chuckled, stuffing yet another doughnut into Nicko’s mouth and watching as the greedy boy swallowed it down for him “But he’s not always obedient, like you. He still tries to push against my rules on occasion,” he sneered in irritation. “The pig’s almost one hundred pounds heavier than you are,” Carl explained, having never actually given Nicko any insight into the differences between him and the other fatties he kept. “Yet, he still thinks he can defy me at times.”

Nicko looked up at the gorgeous, hulking monster above him. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort him out for you,” he stated with certainty.

Carl threw his head back and laughed. “My disgusting fatty is setting himself a mission, is he?” he mocked. “Well, you do that then, One Percent,” he nodded approvingly. “Turn him into a good piggy, just like you.”

Nicko smiled, delighted to be trusted with such a task. He rolled over, feeling Carl’s large hand smacking an entire palmful of lubricant into his crack. Then he pulled his heavy, fat-filled glutes wide apart to demonstrate that he was ready to be fucked again. Nicko didn’t know exactly when he had stopped caring about anything else in his life; devoting himself entirely to Carl’s wants and needs. He knew that the guy was wicked and manipulative; throwing his money around and flaunting his good looks to get whatever he wanted. He knew as well that the guy could get bored of him and drop him in a flash. But whilst he was here, basking in the limelight, he would enjoy every second of it. 

He would be the very best piggy.  

#gainerstory #gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainerstories #gainer fic #gainer story #gainer stories #gainer fiction #gay feedee

[originalfatfiction]

Mason's Gain

Mason Megalos had been my best friend for over a decade when everything fell apart. I still hadn’t gotten over how suddenly we went our separate ways. Like many sexually confused adolescents, I had fallen in love with my best friend. We were both boys, and I had come to realize my love for him was one of the worst things that could have ever happened. I heard how other guys talked. I knew that liking Mason wasn’t something I could act on. 

We’d been about a month into our freshman year when I felt him slipping away from me. He had joined the football team and started hanging out with a bunch of his misogynistic, homophobic, and slightly racist teammates. Most people would say these guys were harmless, but I knew that the longer Mason hung around them, the more influence they’d have over his ideologies. He was being brainwashed! I had to win him back over from the dark side.  

Mason wasn’t a hateful person, and I was determined to come out to him before it was too late. I trusted him more than anybody in the whole world; I genuinely believed with every fiber of my being that we’d be able to work through my teeny-tiny crush on him (okay, so maybe it wasn’t the teeniest or the tiniest, and I was a hundred percent head-over-heels in love with him, but I digress). I figured he’d reject me amiably and we could continue our friendship, but unforeseen circumstances had prohibited my confession indefinitely. 

We’d been at my house. I had been avoiding coming out to him, as there was always something stopping me. The reasons were always stupid, like the fact there was an X-Men movie marathon coming on TV and we just had to watch it together. Like many high school aged boys, Mason sometimes referred to stuff as gay, in reference to things he considered stupid or slightly feminine. It had gotten way worse since he’d been hanging around his new friends. At one point he said it about some commercial on the TV. I felt that anxious feeling I often got, but this time I didn’t let it stop me. 

 “Mason, I’m gay,” I’d told him. I blurted it out, really. It wasn’t my finest moment; it wasn’t what I’d practiced a million times in the bathroom mirror. 

He looked at me for a while, assessing me, and then he got up and left. With no words of encouragement or disapproval. 

October 11, 2008 would forever be ingrained in my mind as the day Mason walked out of my life and never looked back. I’d really thought he was different. I’d really thought that I could tell him about my authentic self. I had never even got to mention the fact that I had a crush on him, which was probably for the best. 

He hadn’t been the person I thought he was.  

If losing Mason as a friend wasn’t bad enough, I was now still dealing with the repercussions of coming out. It had been three years since then.

Yes, three years of Mason’s new friend group taking every possible opportunity to terrorize me for being gay. They’d beat me up from time to time, throw slurs at me, or make homophobic jokes knowing there was nothing I could do or say to stop them. I didn’t want to make excuses for Mason, because the fact he had been such a terrible friend was inexcusable, but he never directly harassed me like his underlings; he just sort of had dominion over them, which was slightly less awful. Seriously, I think it was worth something that he never beat me up or said anything mean to me (at least not to my face). It was easier to handle his passive attitude in regard to my situation.

Those dumb jocks and future gas station attendants all looked to Mason for approval. He’d become their God—the coolest, the most handsome, the almighty. I bet if he stood up for me at least once, my days at school would go a lot smoother. I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t let go of my idealized version of him. I told myself he didn’t mean what he did or said. I told myself that there was still good in him. Even though it killed me to hear him laugh when his friends called me a fag or a homo, I believed Mason didn’t really think I was disgusting.

I still thought he was attractive. It wasn’t like I was blind. We might not have been best friends anymore, but I lusted after him just the same as I had before. Mason had an olive complexion and it always seemed like he was glowing, like he was an angel or something. Mason’s parents were Greek, having moved to America before he was born. He had this curly brown hair that he took excellent care of now that he was older (when we were younger it was always messy). His eyes were green. His lips were full. He had the most beautiful smile. It was almost the most attractive thing about him.

The most attractive thing about Mason was his butt. He had the best ass I’d ever seen. It’s what I always looked at when I could take a clandestine glance. I had looked at his butt so frequently, I could probably pick it out of a police lineup.

“Yes Officer,” I’d say. “Butt number three is Mason’s. The sheer size of the cheeks makes it obvious, and the dimples on his lower back are also a dead giveaway.”

 He was taller than me, and he definitely had to be over six feet by now. I was 5’9” and weighed only about 160 pounds. Mason on the other hand had really buffed up in our years distanced from one another; I would have to guess he was around 200 pounds. He’d been a pudgy kid, but when he joined the football team freshman year, they worked all of his extra weight into muscle. Seeing him change so much really stung, not having gotten the chance to change along with him.

I had to continuously remind myself that none of these things mattered anymore. He could be extraordinarily hot with the best ass in the entire country, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated me for something I couldn’t control. He abandoned a valuable friendship and allowed others to belittle me. My mom had told me growing up, in a somewhat blunt way I’d grown used to, “Not everybody is your friend. Sometimes people can surprise you in the worst ways possible.” I never, and I mean never, thought my mother’s pessimistic wisdom would apply to my relationship with Mason.

We were about two months into senior year, and today in English IV, the last class of the day, I noticed Mason talking to a troll named Bret Phelps. This guy was possibly the worst of the group. The others just called me names, having grown tired of wasting energy beating me up, but he felt compelled to hunt me down and physically assault me every other day. I made my way to my locker as quickly as I could and made a mad dash for my bike. 

Today I was going to make it.

I was trying to be positive, which wasn’t always easy. It was a quality I admired in others, so I tried my best to emulate that positivity. I was determined to hold my head up high and to be optimistic. I knew things would one day get better, even if I had to put up with Mason’s posse until graduation. 

Today I wasn’t going to get punched anywhere on my body.  

 I approached the bike rack quickly, wanting to make it off campus unscathed. The closer I got to where the bikes were housed, the more noticeable was the form of a guy leaning casually on an adjoining pillar.

It was Bret. Damn.

He had to have forgone stopping at his locker. He’d come directly here after the bell rang to wait for me. He must have really been in a sour mood if he wanted to catch me so badly.

I had to be strong. Even if I wanted to whine and cry and beg for him to leave me alone, I couldn’t. I refused to give him or any of his asshole friends the satisfaction of breaking me down. I was immune to this. I just had to accept my beating and he’d move on. At first, I fought hard every single time, but he’d still pummel me. That was when I came to realize that if I didn’t show emotion, he’d give me a swift punch in the gut and go about his day. I wasn’t going to give the sadist the pleasure he oh so desired. It wasn’t fun fighting someone who didn’t react. 

“Hello Oliver,” he said, smiling. His front tooth was slightly chipped, and I hoped it was from someone punching him in the mouth. “You were like the first one out of class. I hope you didn’t think you were going to miss me today.” He was shorter than Mason but taller than I was. He was a stocky guy, and if I didn’t hate him so much, I’d be willing to admit that he was almost-maybe-possibly attractive.

 “Hey Bret,” I said in an even tone, keeping my head down, not making eye contact. “I really have to get going.” 

“This isn’t going to take long.” 

He walked towards me. I closed my eyes and tensed my ab muscles waiting for him to sock me in the stomach.

“I’ll handle him today.”

It was Mason’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing my abs. Was he going to start beating me up too? I didn’t think I could handle it if he decided he was so disgusted by me that he had to resort to physical violence.

 “Yeah, okay Mason,” Bret said, reverting to his beta-male status. “You’ve got to make sure you get him in the gut, just like he likes it.” With that, Bret walked off, glad to be told what to do—but not before punching me in the arm as hard as he could.

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing my arm as I made my way over to my bike. I kneeled down and began putting in the combo for my bike lock.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, like he’d done me the biggest favor. 

I looked up at him from the ground, and he looked like a giant. I felt really nostalgic looking up at him. Mason used to fight people for saying that I was gay. He used to defend my honor like I was a high society lady in a Victorian romance novel. But that didn’t matter anymore. He was a regular human being who made stupid human being decisions. I had to stop romanticizing the present with memories of the past.

I stayed silent. I didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Why was he still standing there? I wanted him to leave so I wouldn’t have to feel so on edge.

“You want a ride home?” he asked.

Was he being for real? He only ever talked to me in class, and that was if it was mandated by the teacher. Now he was offering me a ride home? I wanted to say something biting and sarcastic, but nothing good would come from it. That wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be. I did my best to push through the bitter feelings.

“No,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant it to be. I didn’t want to sound upset or anything, but I was struggling to temper out my emotions. “I have my bike.” 

This was the first time in a long time I was alone with him. It made me think of that day in October three years ago when everything changed. I hated how this was forcing me to recollect our final moments together as best friends.

“We can put it in the back,” he said matter-of-factly. I knew he was talking about his Jeep, but I still pictured his ass.

I was silent again, and he just smiled at me, like he knew I was going to accept his offer. This was how things had been in elementary school, middle school. He’d always been able to charm me into doing whatever he wanted. Even now as he began to saunter off, expecting me to follow, I couldn’t stop myself from bending to his will.

“Let’s go,” he said, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the student parking lot.

“Yeah okay, sure,” I mumbled, internally berating myself for being so easily swayed by him.

I followed him over to his Jeep. It was an older model, some of the burgundy paint peeling off. The inside smelled like he did; I took multiple deep breaths. He still remembered how to get to my house. The trip was for the most part silent, which gave me time to run scenarios, and they all ended badly, with some terrible prank that would awaken my latent telekinetic powers akin to my homegirl Carrie White. 

“Casa de Bailey.” 

I felt myself jump slightly, having been lost in my Stephen King fantasies.  

“Thanks,” I said, hopping out of the passenger’s side. 

I put my bag on and walked towards the rear of the Jeep. I didn’t think he’d get out of the car, but he met me at the back and removed my bike for me. As he set it down on the pavement, I took in how strong his arms looked and how the sleeves of his t-shirt were being eaten by their size. He had biceps. He had triceps. If there were any other muscles in the upper arm, he had those too. 

“Can I ask you something?” What could he want to ask me? He’d probably request that I transfer schools so he wouldn’t have to look at his loser ex-best friend anymore. 

“Sure,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, not knowing where this was going and not really wanting to find out. “You can come inside.” I started around back to put away my bike; he followed. I put my bike in the garage and unlocked the back door. I walked up the three steps into the kitchen and offered him something to drink.

“Milk, if you have it.” I poured him a large glass and he began to gulp it down. He was so white, drinking milk like it was actually good. I used to give him such a hard time about it. “Thanks,” he said, wiping away a milk mustache with his forearm.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” I was curious, seeing as we hadn’t really spoken in years. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. I took in his thick eyebrows, which were furrowed in seriousness. I wanted to stroke his brows with my fingers, to feel his face in my hands. I bet his skin was soft. He frowned and it made me a little worried. 

“What?” I asked. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” I still cared about him and his well-being. Maybe it was idiotic of me to still be so devoted to a person that ignored my sufferings, and maybe I should have ignored Mason in return, but my gut instinct was to be concerned.

“Here’s the thing,” he started, “I’m kind of failing English and I was wondering if you could help me out. Bret and the other guys are barely passing, and you’re so smart, I figured you’d be the best person to tutor me.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“That I’m helping you or that you’re failing English?” I asked, to clarify. 

“Both,” he blurted out quickly. 

We stood in an awkward silence. I felt my face go hot and was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t want people to know he was even interacting with me. It was kind of degrading, and I needed to have some self-worth and tell him that I had more value than that. That was what I should’ve done, but I was weak, and he was hot.

“Okay,” I said like a dope. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll help you out.”

“Thanks dude,” he said, a sound of relief in his voice. “You good to meet here after school?”

“Yeah, like what, Tuesdays and Thursdays?” 

“Nah, every day. At least until I get my grade up. My parents lost their shit when they got my progress report.” Every day? That was going to take up a lot of time, and I may not have had much else to do, but I couldn’t believe he just imposed his own tutoring schedule on me. 

“Yeah,” I said, even more like a dope. “No problem.”

“Well, I have to go,” he said suddenly. I turned to get the milk, ready to offer him another glass of moo juice, but he was gone out of the back door before I could get the words out.  

“See you later,” I said aloud to myself, putting the milk back in the fridge. 

If I put my self-respect and righteous anger aside, this was fantastic. I’d get to talk to Mason every day. I’d get to look at his gorgeous face and body every day. I’d get to imagine, even though it was ridiculous, that we were still best friends. He had come to me for help. That just proved that there was still a connection between us. Maybe, in his own odd way, Mason was trying to rekindle our friendship.

I had noticed in the previous weeks that he looked bigger than usual. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but being able to look at him without having to avert my eyes confirmed it. 

He was growing. 

I’d heard he quit the football team. Everyone had heard he’d quit the team. It was the hottest gossip for the entire first month of school. I knew he still exercised, having heard him mention to Bret he worked out with his uncle every night, trying to get into powerlifting. I didn’t know what that entailed, but it sure sounded like something I wanted to see. I was getting an erection just thinking about Mason possibly getting a bit of a belly to go along with the sheer size he was already putting on. 

I realized I’d been keeping tabs on him without really meaning to. If his name was brought up, I listened. I was still invested in his life, and this new arrangement was going to potentially put me in a dangerous situation.

The fact he’d be coming over again tomorrow got me feeling nervous. I didn’t want things to feel awkward. I wanted to do something nice for him to show I wasn’t holding a grudge or anything (even if I was still a little pissed at him). All hadn’t been forgiven, but maybe this was the start to an important conversation. 

I decided to go shopping for some snacks. He’d always been a big eater, and he’d probably need some brain food if we were to be studying. He liked potato chips and submarine sandwiches.

(“You gotta really pack on the ingredients,” he’d told me when we were younger. “I’m talking about a ridiculous amount of meat and cheese. Oil, mayo, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes.”  

I stared in astonishment at the monstrous sandwich he had constructed. It looked big enough to feed three people. This was a sandwich Scooby and Shaggy would excitedly devour. 

“You really think you can eat all of that?” I asked.

“You don’t think I can Oli?” he asked, smirking. 

“I think you can. You can do anything!”

“That’s right,” he said. “You wanna watch demolish this thing?” 

“Yeah,” I said, feeling oddly attracted to him in that moment. It was a moment that definitely raised a red flag for me. Why had I been so invested in his display of gluttony?

He finished that entire sub and a bag of family sized chips. His dad came home after a long day of work looking for the ingredients to make himself a sandwich. “Where’s the deli meat?” Mr. Megalos asked in his Greek accent.

“I ate it all, Dad,” Mason replied, not even embarrassed. Mr. Megalos playfully smacked Mason on the back of the head before sending us to the store to buy some more turkey breast. Mason used the change to buy us a package of oatmeal cream pies. Before I even got the chance to have a second one, he’d eaten the rest of them on our walk home. 

I was glad that he did.)

The next day at school I really wanted to talk to Mason, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I waited the day out and went to get my bike. Mason, not Bret, was leaning on the pillar near the bike rack.

“Hello,” I said, a little bit uneasy. He probably didn’t want my help anymore. He probably realized he could find someone else to tutor him. 

“What’s up, Oli?” he asked, smiling like everything was normal between us. Nobody called me Oli anymore. Just hearing him say my name with a smile on his face was enough to give me the vapors. I felt like flinging myself into his muscled arms, swooning.

“Nothing much.” I smiled back at him nervously. “I’m still meeting you at my house, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He looked at me seriously. My heart must have skipped a beat. “I told Bret to back off. If he fucks with you again, just let me know. Got it?” 

 “Ye—yeah,” I stammered. “Thanks a lot.” He was so hot when he was serious. He furrowed his brow in a way that made him look slightly angry. I bet he’d make a similar face while having sex.

“See you soon,” he said, swaggering off towards where his car was parked. I took in his wide back and beefy behind. He didn’t even carry a bookbag; he just had a folder, a couple of notebooks, and the novel we were reading in class. This was probably why he was failing.   

I unlocked my bike, mounted it, and rode off towards home. Relief swept over me at the thought of being Bret-free. I continued to pedal and felt myself come alive. I loved riding my bike; I was pretty fit because of it, with muscular thighs and a firm, round ass. My ass was definitely a first runner up to Mason’s glorious cakes. It was nearing the end of October and when it started to snow, I would have to swap my tires for better traction. I thought about Mason on the ride home and what I wanted to do to him. I hated wanting him so badly, but I loved it at the same time. Crushes were so weird that way. It was starting to consume me, yet I didn’t really mind it.  

He was sitting on the front steps when I got there.

“Oli,” he said, standing to meet me at the path to the backyard. He had his hand in his shirt, scratching his tummy. He moved his hand away. “Why don’t you have a car?” His voice was getting to me. I missed hearing his voice more than I realized.

“I can’t afford a nice Jeep like you,” I said a little sarcastically. He laughed, catching my slight insult to the Jeep that had once belonged to Mr. Megalos. It was given to Mason for his birthday last year. I remembered Mr. Megalos driving us to elementary school in that thing, so to see Mason driving it now was kind of funny. “You know it’s just me and my mom.”

“You could get a job,” he suggested. “There are lots of cheap cars. I’d help you look for one.” Mason had always liked cars and that sort of thing. His dad and Uncle Galvin owned an auto shop that Mason helped out in. Galvin was the same uncle he’d been working out with.

“I live like eight blocks from the school and I never go anywhere,” I said, feeling more at ease the longer we were around one another. “But if I ever do start looking for a car, I’d hope the offer would still stand.”

“Of course,” he said. “Consider it payment for your services.” I had put my bike away during our conversation. I opened the back door, and we went inside. 

“You can go up to my room,” I said. He knew the way.

I walked over to the fridge and looked at the array of supplies I’d picked up yesterday. I’d gone overboard for sure, but I removed the ingredients and placed them on the counter. I bought provolone cheese, turkey breast, and honey roasted ham. I’d even gone so far as to buy hoagie rolls and herb-seasoned submarine oil. I stuffed those hoagie rolls full of meat and cheese and veggies, just like I knew he liked his sandwiches—at least I knew he liked them this way years ago. I cut them in half and placed them on a plate, pouring some original flavored Ruffles in a bowl. I also put half a sleeve of Oreos on a separate plate and poured two glasses of milk. 

I carried the tray carefully as I made my way up the stairs to my room. Entering, I saw he was sitting at my desk, holding a photo of us at the beach when we were in the seventh grade. I walked over to him and set the tray down next to him on my desk.

“You still have this?” he asked, smiling. I looked over at the picture in his hand. His arm was around my shoulder and we both smiled wide at the camera. He had always been taller than I was, and this was before he lost his baby fat.

“Yeah,” I said shakily. I felt lame all of a sudden, still holding on to something he probably considered a piece of junk. “Could you please put it down?” 

The frame was even more special than the photograph; Mason had made it for me, painting the phrase “Best Buds” in big, sloppy letters on the bottom, seashells and starfish glued all around the rest of the frame. He had burned his fingers so badly using the hot glue gun he wore bandages for a week. I remember how proud he was of his craftsmanship.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. He carefully put the picture frame back in its place before picking up a cookie, popping the whole thing in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you all tense.” 

“I’m not tense,” I said, sounding incredibly tense. He chewed, smirking slightly. I needed to get a grip. I was going to ruin everything if I didn’t chill out. I took a deep breath. “I thought a small snack would help you focus better.”

“This is a small snack?” he asked.

“I just—I remembered you had a big appetite.”

“You remembered right,” he said, reaching for one of the sandwich halves and taking a colossal bite. I felt even more embarrassed. Did he remember anything about me? Did he ever think about me at all?

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“You know Oli,” he started, his mouth half full. “I never stopped eating big, but I’ve definitely kicked it into overdrive since quitting football. If I don’t slow down, I’m gonna get fat again like in that photo.” His free hand absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach. It was like he was toying with me. He took another large bite of the sandwich. “I already eat like garbage, but I started a bulking cycle recently, really pushing myself to put on some mass. I think I’ve already put on ten pounds.” Ten pounds was kind of a lot, seeing as he had quit the football team only a little over a month ago.

“You—you carry the weight well,” I said, aroused. “You don’t look fat to me.” He had finished his first half and grabbed another.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, grabbing his slightly protruding paunch and shaking the small bit of belly he was sporting. “I eat way too much Oli.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” I said, trying not to discourage a habit I wanted him to continue.

“Get this, I ordered two large pizzas from Domino’s the other weekend and finished both of them. It was one of those deals where you save a ton of money if you get the two larges. I’m a sucker for deals like that.”

“Who isn’t?” I asked, watching him alternate between bites of the sandwich and the potato chips.

“When I got to the last slice, I was pissed. I wasn’t even full.”

“Wow Mason,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot.”

“I was lucky my mom had made two trays of pastitsio the night before.” He lifted his shirt and showed me his belly, feeling the need to prove to me that he was indeed packing on the pounds. He was kind of hairy, and I liked it. He grabbed at his tummy with his strong hands, shaking it again, uncovered. I just wanted to feel his stomach in my own hands. I needed to know what it felt like. “This gut is brought to you by pastitsio, pizza, and protein shakes.”

He left his shirt up as he reached for another portion of the sandwich. I watched from my bed with my legs closed tight, as he bit, chewed, and swallowed, repeating the process until he moved on to the next serving. His large hands made those hefty sandwiches look like dainty finger food at a garden party. He pulled at his t-shirt, covering himself.

“You don’t wanna see that,” he said, laughing, his cheeks reddening slightly. He grabbed a handful of the salty chips and shoved them into his mouth. I imagined his hands grabbing a handful of my ass.

I didn’t know how I was going to be able to get through these tutoring sessions. He was pornographic. I was rock hard, my dick straining against my jeans. I was hoping I’d soften up enough before I had to stand. He kept going and going until he was chugging the glasses of milk. Only a couple of cookies remained on the plate.

“How—uh, how much do you weigh?” I asked.

“I don’t really know. You got a scale?”

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” I said, affirming that I had one.

“Let’s do this,” he said, standing. I wiggled a little before getting up, making sure to minimize the obviousness of the boner in my pants. When I was out of sight, I took the time to tuck my penis into the waistband of my underwear, so it was angled upwards, and the front of my pants was flat. I brought the scale from my bathroom, praying he hadn’t noticed I was still semi-erect.

“How much did you weigh?” I asked.

“207 pounds at the pre-season weigh-in back in August,” he said, walking towards where I placed the scale in the middle of my bedroom. I sat on my knees near where the number would be displayed. He stepped on the scale and I glanced at the reading. “What’s the damage?” he asked, standing perfectly still.

“Well, um—that’s something.”

“How much?”

“Maybe this thing is busted, but it says you weigh 226 pounds.” My dick throbbed as I said it. What was so hot about Mason putting on weight like this? It wasn’t just muscle that turned me on, but also fat. I hoped his bulking cycle never ended.

“Shit,” he said, his tone surprised yet slightly satisfied. “I’m gonna be huge if I don’t start slowing down with all this eating.” I swallowed, hard.

I couldn’t help him study today. I’d get better at putting up with his natural eroticism, but today couldn’t be helped. He needed to leave before I came in my pants. I could feel pre-cum starting to coat the lower half of my stomach.

“I’m not feeling good all of a sudden,” I said. Mason stepped off of the scale. I couldn’t think straight, and I was for sure too turned on to focus.

“Really, why?” he asked.

“Like I just got a headache out of nowhere.” I was going to cum any second. It’d take me five strokes tops with how I was feeling, but I knew I’d want to go again immediately.

“Oh shit,” he said, picking up his stack of materials. “You gonna be okay?”

“I probably just need to take some Tylenol and get a nap in before it gets too late.”

“Okay.” He grabbed the rest of the Oreos. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Did I mind? Of course I didn’t mind. I was apparently some sort of freak who wanted him eating constantly. “No, go ahead,” I said. He smiled at me appreciatively before popping one of the cookies in his mouth. I walked him to the door, and we said our goodbyes.

I ran back upstairs and got undressed. I stepped onto the scale, which was still in the middle of my bedroom floor. I weighed myself: 159 pounds.

Mason was 67 pounds bigger than I was. I ran my hand over the shaft of my penis. I gave it one pump, two pumps. Fuck, I was picturing his gut in his hands. Three pumps, Four pumps. He had eaten everything on that tray. I pictured Mason getting bigger and beefier. That’s what did it; I came in thick spurts all over myself.

Tomorrow was going to be tough.

It didn’t get any easier controlling my sexual compulsions when Mason came by for tutoring. It had been two weeks since he first asked for my assistance, and I helped him with his papers and worksheets. We also spent time reading. He was so damn cute. He’d whisper things to himself about what was happening in whatever he was annotating. I had heard him say “no way” or “what” at least once per chapter.

I thought this stuff was all really easy, and I was shocked at how he let his grade fall so low in less than two months of school. He must not have done any type of work for this class until now. I considered the fact that he had a social life and lots of friends to distract him from school. I, on the other hand, spent my free time making flashcards and watching reruns of Chopped and Good Eats. Mason had always been the largest component of my social life, so when he went away, so did any potential high school social plans.

Each study visit I always had a tray with different types of snacks. I kept in mind that Mason was a big eater, and the portions remained hearty and plentiful. It was a Friday study session with an essay due on Monday.

“I’m just going to have to come back tomorrow, maybe even Sunday.” He laughed. “I’m totally hopeless.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, being stereotypically positive. “I think you’re doing great. Did you ask Mr. Gonzalez what your grade was?” He asked every Friday.

“D-plus,” he said with his typical furrowed brow. He sighed and began tossing books into his bag (which I told him he needed to start carrying). I stood silent for a moment, contemplating what I should say. “If he wasn’t such a dick and took late work, I wouldn’t have to stress so hard over this.” I wanted to make him feel like the work he was doing was valuable. I saw that he was improving; I just wished he could see it too.

“You’ve got to think about it like you’re lifting weights, you know? You could barely lift anything at the start, but with hard work and dedication you can lift things you never thought possible. You had a thirty percent two weeks ago, and you’re telling me you’ve been able to get that up over a sixty-five? Just imagine where you’ll be in just one more week, a month from now, even. You’ll have the buffest, strongest grade ever.”

“You think so?” he mused. He sat silently for a moment as he pondered what I had just said. He smiled. “I guess you’re right. Thanks Oliver.”

He lifted his hulking frame out of my desk chair and strode over to where I stood. He wrapped me in his beefy arms and gave me a bear hug. I could feel my entire body tingle in pleasure as I felt Mason for the first time in forever. I didn’t dare ruin it by trying to hug him back. My hands at my side, I could feel his warmth, I could smell the chips he ate and the aftershave he wore. They mixed together in a scent that was uniquely Mason. His arms were so solid, as was his slight gut. It was so brief, but it made me the happiest guy in the world. “You have always been the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks—thanks a lot.” He let me go and grabbed his bag. “Do you think you might want something more substantial to eat tomorrow or just a snack? I could definitely make you a meal if you wanted.”

I was doing way too much. The snacks were one thing, completely hospitable, but now I was offering to make him dinner? Did Bret do things like this for him? His other football friends? I was not being very hetero.

“Really?” he asked, shockingly excited. “Do you remember in sixth grade when you wanted to be a chef?” I spent that entire year working through a kid-friendly cookbook. I even started going off-script, coming up with some of my own recipes (though they were just derivative of other things I’d learned from the cookbook). I doubted Mason knew he was the reason I wanted to learn how to cook.  

“Yeah,” I said. “I cooked a different recipe every day for like nine months. You ate dinner at our house every other day before eating the dinner your mom made.” He laughed at the memory.

“I gained like twenty pounds during that,” he started, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. You’re the reason I was able to grow up big and strong.” He rubbed his gut absent-mindedly. He was always doing that, and it drove me damn near insane.

“Stop playing,” I said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” he said. We began walking down the stairs towards the front door. We continued planning for the following evening of studying. “I want that chicken and cheese thing you made. Now that was delicious.”

“I could do that.”

“How’s seven for you?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad in the shop for a bit and then I’m gonna go lift with Uncle Galvin.”

“That works for me,” I said. “Sounds like you’ll be hungry.”

“Hell yeah,” he replied enthusiastically. “Night Oli.”

“Goodnight Mason,” I said, closing the door behind him.

What was my life? Just like every night after he left, I had to take some time to masturbate. When I finished, I saw it was almost ten. My mom would be back soon. I’d watch whatever was on the Food Network and think about seeing Mason again until she got home.

As happy as I was, I couldn’t help serving myself a much-needed reality check. I wanted to believe that things were going great. We were spending lots of time together and vibing really well. He actually remembered the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. But we still didn’t speak to one another at school. It was like our relationship existed solely in my bedroom. How well could things be going for me if I was just the gay nerd who overfed him and made sure he didn’t fail English?

I woke up around six the next morning. I was definitely an early bird, getting that worm and whatnot. I took a quick shower and styled my hair. It was thick and black. I used a coconut oil cream to make it curl. It was kind of short, only about three or four inches long, but I thought it looked pretty decent. I had brown eyes and brown skin. My complexion was the color of a caramel hard candy. Both of my parents were black. My dad’s parents were from the South. My mom’s mother was from Jamaica and her dad was from Philadelphia. 

I grabbed the basket for my bike and sent my mom a text. She wouldn’t be up until around eleven, and even after that she’d be out of the house running errands before work. I was going to the store for the ingredients in my dish.

It wasn’t that long of a bike ride to the grocery store, and I’d been making the trip more frequently since I decided Mason needed to be catered to with each visit. I shopped for a while, budgeting things out, and choosing other side dishes. I got everything on my list and remembered I wanted to pick up some ice cream for after dinner. I was going to get a pint of Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion. It used to be Mason’s favorite flavor, and I was willing to bet he still loved it.

I turned back and made my way to the frozen food section. It was near where they kept the eggs and milk and cheese. I noticed Bret with some serious bed head grabbing a gallon of 2%. I snatched the ice cream from the freezer and ran for the checkout, praying he hadn’t seen me. I wanted to hurry the cashier along, but she was a kind older woman who had always been nice to me.

“You sure do grocery shop a lot,” she said, laughing. “You’re such a little thing, but you eat so much. But that’s how young men are. Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.”

I conversed with her, trying my best not to appear rude, but I really didn’t need to encounter Bret on the weekend. I paid for my stuff and left the store. I went and unlocked my bike, setting it upright so I could put the groceries in the basket.

Before I could take off, I felt someone grab the hood of my hoodie. I fell backwards, my bike falling to the ground. The food rolled out onto the sidewalk.

I looked up from the pavement at Bret smirking down at me. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Jackson High football sweatshirt. I normally would have just taken whatever beating he had for me, but I was fed up. Today was supposed to be a good day. I was going to make Mason his food and he’d compliment me, and I could live in my delusions for just a little while longer.

I got to my knees before standing straight up. I pushed him as hard as I could, and he stumbled back slightly. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I shouted, kind of embarrassed by how high my voice got.

“Oh, it’s on, you fag,” Bret spat at me. He set the jug of milk he’d been carrying on the sidewalk. “I’m sick of looking at you and your pink fag bike.”

“My bike is red,” I shouted. I didn’t say anything else, and I had no idea what I should do next. We looked at one another intensely.

“Red,” he said as he drew me closer to his body, yanking on my hoodie. “Or pink,” he continued. Punch in the stomach. “You’re still a fucking homo.” Punch. Punch in the mouth. Punch. Punch in the nose. Punch in the cheekbone. Punch. Another punch in the gut. I was panting as he threw me to the ground. I thought I was going to barf. 

“Fuck—you—,” I managed to get out, catching my breath. I had gotten used to my one punch in the stomach a day. This was taking me back to sophomore year when our altercations left me with a new bruise every day. He didn’t seem phased by what I said, just continuing to smirk at me.

“I sure am glad I drank the last of the milk now.” He laughed, stooping to grab his milk, and walked over to his Dodge Charger.

I gathered the scattered items and checked to make sure they were all okay. They were. I put everything back in the basket. I took a few deep breaths before mounting my bike. I rode home and took another shower.

I didn’t want to dwell on the experiences of the morning. I put on some music and spent the rest of the time before I had to start cooking doing laundry and other chores around the house. One beating didn’t mean the world had to stop moving. This was nothing new.

I started cooking around five-thirty, so it would be ready when Mason got here. About five minutes after seven the doorbell rang.

“Hey Mason,” I said, happy to see him. I smiled a little too wide and felt my lip begin to bleed again. It was only a little. I licked the blood away.

“What the fuck Oli?”

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” I got beat up all the time. This really was not a big deal. After high school I would never have to deal with this sort of thing ever again.

“You look like shit,” he said angrily. “That’s what’s wrong.”

“You’ve seen me like this before. It’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” he said, eyebrows furious. “Who was it? Who did this? I swear to God if you say Bret after I told him not to touch you anymore.”

“It’s fine, really.” I didn’t want to make this into a whole thing. I had spent the entire day trying to forget about it so that we could have a good time eating and studying together. I wanted him to just leave it alone. I wanted him to stop pretending like he actually cared about what happened. I’d been getting my ass kicked for over three years and he’d never so much as batted an eye.

“Oliver,” he pushed.

“The food is going to get cold, so let’s just go and eat.” I walked away from the front door towards the kitchen, hoping he’d follow. That was when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me close to him. We stood there for a moment. His strong, masculine hands held my upper arms firmly. He looked at my bruised cheek, my busted lip. He brought his mouth to my forehead and kissed it softly. It felt like we were standing there for hours but it couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds. “Mason—.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. 

He let go of my arms and hesitated a moment before running out to his Jeep and driving off. Had he really just kissed me? I couldn’t believe it. I was pretty sure there was lip to forehead action.

After that Mason never called or texted me, and he didn’t show up to school on Monday. I managed to avoid Bret after school and decided to take Mason his homework. He really hadn’t missed all that much, but I really wanted to see what that kiss was about. I also wondered if he worked on the essay for English class at all. I hadn’t been busting my ass for him to start failing again. It was a longer bike ride, but I made it to his place in about twenty minutes. I rang the doorbell and Mason’s kid sister Agatha answered the door.

“Oliver! Oliver! Oh my God!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down before reaching out for a hug.

“Hey Aggy,” I replied, embracing her. She was thirteen now. I was eighteen, my birthday at the end of September, but Mason was nineteen. His birthday was in July. It was a secret I swore to take to the grave. It was the reason why he never invited classmates to his birthday parties growing up. When he told me about why, it was like something out of a Roald Dahl novel. It was like he was Matilda or something. Mr. and Mrs. Megalos had been remarkably busy helping members of their family immigrate, starting their auto repair business, and welcoming Aggy into the world. They straight up forgot to register him for school. They waited so long that the district said he’d have to wait for the following school year. Mason never told anyone how old he was. He didn’t want people to think he failed a grade. He also didn’t want people to think he had bad parents.

“I missed you so much,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said with a laugh. “We’ll have to catch up soon, but is Mason home?”

“He’s sick,” she said with a pair of air quotes. “I know he’s lying. Sick people don’t eat as much as he does. You can go upstairs.”

“Thanks.”

I made my way upstairs, shocked by how little had changed in their house in three years. I stood outside Mason’s door, nervous about having to discuss what happened on Saturday. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he wanted to pretend it never happened at all? It was now or never. I opened the door to his room. I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I’d forgotten to knock. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

“Ah!” Mason yelped, looking over at me in his doorway.

He was naked, but that wasn’t the most outrageous part. There were a ton of reasons why he could be naked and alone in his room. This was his house after all. But he knelt at the side of his bed, dick in hand and a sex toy in his ass. It was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen in person, but still a major shock. His ass was just made to take phallic objects. There was so much of him to take in, from the powerful arms to the beefy ass to the bloated gut. I was frozen, staring at his dick and then the sex toy he’d removed from his asshole. He tossed it in a shoe box and shoved it under his bed.

“Oliver, close the door!” he said hurriedly. I turned around and closed the door quickly. He probably wanted me on the other side of it. “I can’t believe I didn’t lock the door,” he mumbled. “Fuck.”

“Mason, look, I’m really, uh—really sorry,” I said, turning back around and staring at him as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. All I could think about was how big his butt was. He probably did a ton of squats. His legs were hairy, as were his forearms and chest. I could tell his sessions in the gym were paying off, seeing as everything about him was getting absolutely massive. But man, his gut had really grown. He was getting fat. Fatter than when he showed me his belly the first time. He must have been eating constantly. The after-school snacks I prepared for him couldn’t have been pumping him up this much. I knew he said he was bulking, but did he mean to be getting so large?

“I brought your homework,” I said. My voice was shaking. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I should probably go.” What was going on? He was into butt stuff? Was he gay? I’d heard that some straight guys were into anal. They’d have their wives and girlfriends peg them with strap-ons. I couldn’t process this right now with him in front of me. I turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called. “Can I have the work?” How was he so calm? I took off my bag and pulled out the folder where I’d put all the materials he’d need. I stood there, folder in hand, unable to walk towards him. He walked over to me, his dick still semi-erect bobbing freely in the basketball shorts. His thighs were like tree trunks. His chest was broad, and his nipples were slightly bigger than I’d seen on other guys, kind of puffy. Overall, he was looking much fleshier. I needed to focus.

“Sorry,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time. I handed him the folder with the assignments. He reached out to grab them and I took in his mammoth forearms. Mason was a man. He wasn’t my chubby best friend from elementary school anymore. “I didn’t come in on purpose. I swear.”

He had kissed me on Saturday. I remembered my real reason for coming over. I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring up now. I had to let it go. He was just some conflicted straight boy who’d put this and any other gay feelings behind him. He’d marry some girl, have some kids, and she’d peg him well into old age. Me and this whole situation would become a distant memory.

He moved closer to me.

I moved back slightly.

He moved closer to me again.

“Mason, what’re—?” I didn’t know why I came here. I should have just ignored it. He dropped the folder on the ground and pulled me closer to himself.

“I haven’t been honest with myself,” he whispered, looking at me seriously. “Or with you.” I swallowed. He kissed me—on the lips this time. I felt them for the first time on my own lips. This was authentic lip to lip action. I wanted to grab his ass. I wanted to touch his belly. I wanted everything with Mason, but something was stopping me. He pulled away and looked at me again. “I think—I think that I’ve always wanted this.”

He was waiting on me to say something, and I could tell he started to worry. As much as my body ached for him, my mind was conflicted.

“I should go,” I whispered softly, afraid of how’d he’d react to this rejection. It was clear I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. He just took a step back, his lower lip trembling like he was about to cry. I was an idiot. I left his room, closing his door behind me. I was moving pretty quickly now, needing to put as much distance between us as possible so I could clear my head.

“Later Aggy!” I called, opening their front door. I was on my bike and out on the street in a matter of seconds. I pedaled hard, so hard I could feel the burn in my legs.

I made my way home and into my room. I wouldn’t be able to think with the erection I had. I was rock hard the entire bike ride home. I had always been an avid masturbator, but recently it had gotten out of hand.

When I finished, I tried to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t as simple as Mason and I being able to fool around. Where were things going to go now? Would he come out? Would he want to date me? If Mason just wanted to experiment with me, I couldn’t do it, even if part of me wanted to be used by him. I’d spent the last three years allowing myself to be mistreated, and I was not ready to swap one form of degradation for another.

I finished my homework in a daze, not too sure of what I actually completed. I went to bed feeling absolutely miserable.

The next day, I avoided Mason like the plague. I felt wrong, like he really had been sick, and he was making a huge mistake. I went the whole day avoiding him. I didn’t even look in his direction, so I had no idea if he was looking in mine. After school I made my way to my bike. I had to get home. I just needed to be alone to think some more. I set down my bag and started to put in the combo for my bike lock.

I fell forward.

Someone had kicked me in the back as I was kneeling. I turned and saw that it was Bret. Of course it was Bret. He wasn’t alone today. Standing slightly behind him were these other football guys named Bill and Zeke. I wished my eyes were deceiving me, but Mason was there too, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I tried to finish unlocking my bike, but Bret kicked me again and I fell forward once more. I looked up at Mason, the giant I had idealized for so long. He looked away. Bret said something obscene, but I was too intensely focused on Mason to catch exactly what was said. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

I hated Mason.

I stood up after finally getting my bike unlocked. I mounted it and tried to ride off. I was stopped and pushed over. I wondered why no teachers or staff members tried to intervene. There had to be at least one nearby. I had ripped my jeans when I hit the pavement. I tried to get up. They were all calling me names and laughing. Mason stood silent, their all-powerful leader.

I tried to ride off again and this time I got away. I was crying, but I was too far away from them to see me. I felt like I was nothing, an empty shell peddling home. Mason was—I didn’t know what he was. I didn’t know who he was anymore. We had gone down two completely different paths, and I had thought they were meeting back up. It was stupid of me to believe that. Our paths were only going to continue diverging.

I went around back and put my bike away before going inside to think about Mason some more. The way he looked away when I needed him had me seething. I pulled off my sneakers and the ripped pair of jeans. I hadn’t cut my knee at all, so that was something to be happy about. The doorbell rang. I sat on the sofa hoping they would go away. The bell kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

They weren’t going away. I was reaching my boiling point. I just needed to be alone, at least for an hour or so. I ran to the door and pulled it open aggressively.

“Can I help you—?” I asked, before registering who had been ringing the doorbell.

“Hey.” It was Mason. “Can I talk to you, please?” He looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but a t-shirt and pair of black briefs. I didn’t even care. I was still livid.

“What?” I asked harshly. “Did you come to beat me up too? I could have sworn you made the first move yesterday. But if you find it appropriate to pin all faggish activity on me I’m willing to carry the burden.”

“I’m so sorry, Oli.” I felt myself weaken. No. I needed to remain strong. His eyebrows were furrowed; his eyes were sad. Those sad, green eyes had gotten their way numerous times when we were younger.

“Okay, I accept your apology.” I began to close the door. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” he called, using his weight to keep the door open. “I’m not finished. Can I come in?”

“No,” I said, trying my best to stand my ground. “I hope you fail English. I hope I never have to look at your stupid face ever again.”

“Oli,” he pleaded. He looked at me again with those sorrowful eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but then I moved out of the way so he could enter the house. He brought his beefy frame through the door.

“I’ve got to know,” he started, blushing. “Why did you run out yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, when I was, you know—uh masturbating.” I stood silent, unsure of what to say or what he wanted to hear. I really wasn’t too sure what his angle was anymore. Did that incident mean something to him or not? “Is it because you don’t like how I look? I know I’ve gained some weight. I’m just trying to get some more size, and I’ll lose the extra padding eventually. I’ll start losing it right now if that’s what it takes for you to be attracted to me.”

“Your appearance has absolutely nothing to do with why I left yesterday,” I said honestly. He really thought that was the only reason I left? Had he not considered the entire situation? The last three years of our lives?

“It doesn’t?” he asked, taken aback. “Well, I’m not sure but I think I might be—you know, gay. And—and I have all these feelings for you. Hanging out with you again has only helped me confirm what I knew all along. I missed my best friend, Oliver.”

“Mason—,” I started before he cut me off.

“I’m probably not even your type. That’s so fucking pretentious of me to assume you even think I’m attractive.”

“Mason, listen,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I always believed you didn’t mean to hurt me. I held out hope that we could at least one day be friends again. But the thing that happened Saturday, and then walking in on you yesterday. It just made me angry.”

He was still looking at me seriously, taking in everything I was saying, really trying to hear me out.

“Angry that you felt you couldn’t have talked to me sooner. Angry that you thought we could just sort of hook up? I don’t really know what you thought, but it doesn’t feel like you even tried to think about me at all.”

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, his eyes watering. “I fucked up. I’m a pussy. I’m sorry Oliver. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t take it, looking at him with tears streaming down his face. I’d never seen such a big man cry before, and it made me feel like I needed to give him a hug. But if I didn’t stand up for myself now, I’d always be walked all over.

“When you asked me to help you with your English work do you remember what you said to me?” He shook his head no. “You told me that you didn’t want people to know you were associating with me. I felt so worthless, but I did it anyway because—because you’re still one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’ll never make you feel worthless ever again,” he said, his voice serious and honest. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance.”

I crossed my arms, considering what he said. I believed him. I was scared that I believed him. What if I trusted him and got hurt even worse than before?

“I want us to be together,” he said, sniffling. “Being with you makes me feel good, and I want to feel good all the time.”

“I—I think that I want to be with you too,” I said, looking away from him, unsure of if it was a good idea to relent so easily.

“Really?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

It was building up inside of me, the love I had for him, the confession that had been left unsaid years ago. I felt it coming out, like word vomit.

“I love everything about you,” I started, still unable to look at him, “the way your eyebrows do that thing and the way you eat and don’t stop. And if you like bulking and powerlifting I don’t mind that. I think you look amazing and—and, I don’t know, Mason, if you gained more weight, I would still be attracted to you. Get as big as you want, really.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, Oliver. You’re probably one of the best-looking guys in school and you’re attracted to me? Girls hate that you’re gay.” He took a deep breath. “I have never felt the same about girls that I do about you. I think about you every day.”

“I’m not kidding,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re hot and—and I would even want you to get bigger. I don’t know how to explain it, but the fact that you’re getting bigger makes me really—you know.” I felt like such a weirdo. So much was happening all at once. “I’ve never thought you’ve looked so good.” It felt like the time I told him I was gay. I wondered if he’d just walk out like he had then.

“You’d be okay with me being bigger? For real?” he asked. I felt a slight amount of relief. He hadn’t walked out.

“Yes,” I said, my body tense with nerves. “I would.”

“I like this, being bigger. I always have,” he said. It was silent for a moment. “I want to be bigger. I want to get stronger. This size is something I would’ve never gotten if I kept playing football.” He laughed nervously.

“What?” I asked.

“You sure you’re okay being seen with some big monster?”

“I don’t think you could ever be a monster.” He walked towards me and kissed me so fast I almost fell over. He was huge, like a big teddy bear, and I loved it. I really did, a hundred percent. He laughed, kissing me through the tears on his face. He held me close to him, my dick pressing against him through my underwear.

“Now what?” I asked.

“I guess you’re my boyfriend,” he said seriously. “If you’re okay with that.”

My whole body felt intensely warm. It was like I was in a dream. Maybe I was. Maybe I’d crashed my bike on my way home and I was in a coma, my consciousness somewhere between earth and the great beyond.

Something weighed heavily on me and I was afraid to bring it up. I wanted to squeal with joy and cry tears of relief, but I had to make sure we were on the same page. I didn’t want to end up hurt and alone.

I was quiet, not sure how to ask Mason what was on my mind. I think he hated when I got all silent like this. He was a much more direct sort of person.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s just—am I, uh—is this a secret?”

“No,” he said, eyebrows serious. “I hate you even had to consider that. You’re never going to be a secret in my life ever again.”

I was his boyfriend.

He was my boyfriend.

We were boyfriend and boyfriend.

The next day in school Mason talked to me in every class. He sat with me at lunch. He stopped at my locker with me. He was trying very hard to prove to me that he was serious. He meant what he said about making it up to me for the last three years.

“Mason, what the fuck is your problem?” Bret asked disgustedly. “This whole day you’ve been acting weird.” Bret looked over at me, obviously insinuating that I was what was weird. English class had just ended, and Mason was going to give me a ride home, and not because he wanted something from me, just because he wanted to be around me. I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

“What do you mean?” Mason asked, feigning ignorance.

“The fag, Mason. The fag.” Bret spat the word fag like it was a disease.

“I don’t think you should use that word anymore. Don’t be that guy.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear you using that word or making jokes or putting your hands on Oliver ever again. You or anybody else, so spread the word.”

“Are you in love with him or something?” Bret asked, trying to get a rise out of Mason.

“I might be, yeah,” Mason replied seriously. Bret’s eyes widened before he began to laugh hysterically. “We’re dating.”

“Mason, you are hilarious.” Mason leaned over towards me. He brought his face incredibly close to mine before he touched my lips softly with his own, kissing me. It was a gentle kiss, nothing too intense, but it made me feel exposed. I’d barely kissed anyone before and never in public. “You’re taking it too far dude. That was gay as hell.”

“Probably because I’m gay.”

“You’re—you’re not joking? You’re a fag too?”

“Yep,” Mason said, wrapping his beefy arm around me. “And watch your language, dude. There’s only so many times I’m going to tell you.”

Bret ran off, probably to go tell someone. By tomorrow every single person in the school would know. I wondered what people would say. I hoped Mason would be all right. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest decision.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, still thinking about him kissing me in front of Bret.

“It’s not like you’re my secret boyfriend.” He smiled and I melted.

He took me home and we went inside. We were going to study and hang out for a while. He told me that he wanted to spend so much time together that I’d get sick of him. I told him that’d never happen. And he said that meant we’d just be stuck with each other. We were in the second week of November, and the weather had cooled considerably. I volunteered to make hot chocolate and he happily accepted my offer. I also provided a plate of chocolate chip cookies I’d made the night before.

“Thanks,” he said as I handed him the drink. He sipped it carefully, making sure to collect the mini marshmallows. He must’ve gotten too excited because some of it spilled onto his lap. He stood quickly.

“Aw shit,” he said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to grab some paper towels.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of pissed I wasted some of my hot chocolate.” I laughed at his serious expression, telling him that I was more than willing to make him another mugful. We sopped up the bulk of the liquid with the paper towels, but he let me know he didn’t like the moist feeling.

“I don’t want it to soak into my underwear.”

He popped open the button of his jeans with a sigh of relief. He pulled them down and stood in my kitchen in a pair of navy boxer briefs. “I’ve got to get some new jeans.” He sure wasn’t modest. I was getting hard looking at his big hairy thighs. He could crush someone’s skull with those things. I kind of wanted my skull crushed.

“I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you,” I said, still staring at his legs. “Maybe a pair of basketball shorts.”

“I’m good like this if you don’t mind,” he said, standing before me like a Grecian statue.

“No way. I don’t think I can control myself looking at you with your legs out like that.” He laughed, jokingly telling me that I was weird.

“They’re just legs,” he said, grinning at me. He’d always loved showing off, and I had always been a willing observer. “And who says you need to control yourself?”

“It’s not just your legs,” I said, getting excited. “It’s your ass. I’ve been looking at your butt for years.”

He turned, looking over his shoulder back at me. The fabric of his underwear separated each cheek, making his ass look even juicer. I wanted to take a bite out of it, my mouth watering at the sight of how much weight he was carrying back there. “If you’ve been checking it out for years, how’s it looking nowadays?”

“Phenomenal,” I said, zoning out. I was completely mesmerized. There was nothing that could break me out of this trance.

“You can grab it,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, like he didn’t know if what he said was okay. Was he testing my attraction to him? Who wouldn’t want to squeeze his meaty ass? I walked closer to where he stood, my hands cupping the ass I’d only ever dreamed of touching since I knew I liked men. I jiggled it slightly, impressed by how I could still feel the muscle underneath its fatty outer layer.

“It definitely feels bigger than I thought it would,” I said, still touching him.

“I do a lot of squats,” he said, laughing apprehensively. “I think it’s gotten bigger these last couple of weeks. Working out with my uncle and eating like I do has changed my body faster than I thought it would.”

He turned around, and I noticed he was hard. He looked down at his penis straining against his boxer briefs and then away from me, biting his lower lip nervously. I bet his muscle-gut blocked some of his lower half from sight. How long would it be before he wouldn’t be able to see his dick when he looked down?

It was nice that he physically reacted to me feeling him up, but was he expecting something more? Would he want to bottom? Was he prepared for that today? I had wondered when things would become more sexual between us. We’d known each other for so long, but not as sexual beings with lots of sexual urges.

I turned away from him, walking towards the freezer. I couldn’t take the awkwardness. I grabbed the ice cream from a few weeks ago that he never got to eat.

“Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion,” he exclaimed gleefully.

“Yeah, I thought you might like it.” I grabbed a spoon, handing it to him along with the pint of ice cream. The little container in his large hand was really cute. He peeled off the lid and dug into the dessert greedily. This probably wasn’t enough ice cream to satiate him. He walked casually over towards a counter, pressing his butt up against it. He leaned back and ate spoonful after spoonful. He licked the spoon slowly after each mouthful.

Was he putting on a show for me? Like when we were younger?

“That was good,” he said after less than ten minutes of eating. A now empty container sat on the counter next to him. He gave a satisfied belch and put his hands on his slightly bloated middle.

“You really know how to eat,” I observed.

“It’s probably weird,” he started, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, making sure not to meet my gaze, “but it kind of turns me on sometimes.”

“It’s not weird.”

I made my way to where he stood against the counter, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of his middle. We both stood there, silently aroused. I could hear his breathing—in and out, in and out. I lifted his t-shirt. He rested his hand on my shoulder as I massaged his gut. He gave a satisfied moan that made my dick twitch.

“This feels really good.”

“It does?” I asked. I was on cloud nine, finally getting my hands on his gut after fixating over it for weeks. I could see he was getting hard, and I couldn’t believe he happened to be on the same wavelength as I was. I knew he said he liked being bigger, but I didn’t realize he liked it in this way.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he whispered breathily, closing his eyes. He leaned his head back and grinned, unable to suppress the expression.

I was feeling bold, wanting to take further control of his pleasure. He could be in charge of everything else in our lives, but in this moment, I knew I was the one who could call the shots. I slid one of my hands down under his gut, sliding it into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” I asked, wanting to get his consent before I continued.

He just moaned again, whimpering as my hand wrapped around his erection.

“Tell me you want me to do this,” I commanded.

“I want it, Oliver,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

He slid his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down his boxer briefs, so I had easier access to his penis. It was above average size and thick, but I was bigger and for some reason that really turned me on. I stroked him gently, enjoying how it pulsated in my hand. I noticed he relaxed his stomach muscles and his gut pushed forward some more. I looked up at his face and he looked back, his eyes glazed over. Fuck, was that a hot expression.

I stopped for a second, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my own dick. I stroked us both off, moving nice and slow. With both of my hands now occupied elsewhere, Mason took it upon himself to massage his stomach.

“That belly is looking real good,” I said, watching his expression carefully. He looked—pleased! His eyes were closed, but he got that grin on his face again. He grabbed his gut by the sides and gave it a shake.

He was close and I could tell. Seeing him so aroused was turning me on more than I thought possible. I was going to push him over the edge.

“Fuck Mason, I can only imagine how big your gut is gonna be a few months from now.”

It was a risk, but it paid off. He shot a huge stream of cum across the kitchen floor. He looked at me now, his eyes still had that glazed-over look and he fell to his knees. He grabbed at my jeans, pulling them down along with my underwear.

“Whoa, Mason, what’re—?”

He licked the head of my penis holding the shaft in his somewhat rough hand. His mouth was warm, and he worked my dick with unexpected finesse. Looking down at the top of his head, I took in his curly brown hair. I couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was on his knees giving me head. I also couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was Mason of all people.

“Mase, I’m coming.” He removed my dick from his mouth, and I felt cum erupt from inside of me so forcefully I got lightheaded. It wasn’t until I was completely finished that I was able to take in what had occurred. Mason was still on his knees, his face covered in my cum. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t seem like everything was okay. He got off of his knees, pulling up his underwear. We cleaned up in silence. He got my cum off his face, and I got his cum off the floor. He was the one who broke the silence. “That was weird.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, kind of,” he said, looking down at the kitchen tiles. “What was with that stuff you were saying?”

“Did you not like that?” I asked, feeling less confident than I had been during our sexual encounter. Things were shifting back into their regular alignment. Me being awkward. Mason being intimidating.

“I just—when we talked about me being bigger, you didn’t just mean muscles, did you?”

“I—I, uh, there’s nothing wrong with being bigger.”

“Were you just saying that because you figured out that’s what I’m into?” he asked. “You don’t have to, like, force yourself to be attracted to me like this.”

“Mason,” I started, “I think it’s more than obvious we like the same thing. I don’t know how we lucked out like this, but that gut you’ve got is definitely sexy.” He just laughed.

“Oli, c’mon,” he said. “You’re legit gorgeous. You could be an underwear model or something, I mean, damn, your quads are amazing.” I laughed. He reached out, grabbing my arm, and pulled me forward. He rested his masculine hands on my ass, like I had always wanted. “And this bubble butt is something else.”

“I’ve got to know Mason. When did you start thinking you might be gay?”

“The day you told me,” he said. I pushed myself away from his solid body.

“What?”

“Yeah, you coming out to me was really confusing. And I figured I should avoid you for a little while to figure things out—I didn’t think it’d be three years though, sorry.”

I just laughed. We’d missed out on years together. There really was nothing to do but find the humor in the situation, because otherwise it would be too sad to think about.

“I started watching gay porn freshman year and I bought that sex toy about a year ago.”

“You’re something else,” I said. “I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

He smiled and it just felt like it got easier to breathe. I ended up making him another mug of hot chocolate before throwing his jeans in the washing machine. Being domestic with him was turning me on, but then again, anything involving Mason was a turn on. I was starting to feel more peaceful. Mason and I would keep talking and figuring things out about this relationship. We had time. We finally had time.

Christmas break came after what felt like an eternity. Of course, people were talking about me and Mason. We could hear their not-so-whispered remarks every single day. He ignored it and held my hand through it all, which really meant a lot to me. He was an incredible person.

Mason had been so liked by everyone, that it was odd to see his old friends ignore him or mumble fucked-up things under their breath when he was nearby. I didn’t know how he could take it, falling so far from the graces of the popular crowd. I had always been on the outskirts, so I couldn’t really understand what he was going through.

We’d made it through Thanksgiving unscathed. It was a little sad we couldn’t spend the holiday together, but Mason hadn’t come out to his family and I hadn’t told my mom we were dating. He’d pushed himself incredibly hard these last couple of weeks, so if he wanted to ease into telling his parents, I wasn’t going to complain.

But that tranquility Mason was experiencing at home was short lived. If the entire high school knew Mason was gay, there was only a matter of time before word got back to people’s parents. Those parents talked to other parents, and those parents talked to Mason’s parents.

The first night of break, Mason was confronted by his father about what he’d heard from a customer in his auto shop. I hated the look on Mason’s face when he told me this story. It was heartbreaking. It felt like it was all my fault.

Mason’s dad threw him out. Mr. Megalos took him up by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the front door. Well, he grabbed his collar, yes, and likely pulled him by it, but I doubted he could actually lift Mason to throw him anywhere. His mom let him back in of course, but he packed a bag and left. He’d shown up on my doorstep a little before midnight. It was obvious he’d been crying.

“They found out,” he said. And I knew. I knew his heart was probably in a million pieces.

“Oliver, who is at the door?” My mother walked into the foyer, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe. She’d gotten in from work about an hour ago and had just finished with some self-care. I was glad she’d just taken a bath, because I needed her to be in a good mood.

“Mom, it’s Mason,” I said.

“Well look at that,” she said, taking him in for the first time in three years. “What has Katerina been feeding you?” Mason gave a half-hearted laugh, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him into the house.

“It’s, uh, good to see you Ms. Bailey.”

“Mason, you can go up to my room while I talk to my mom.”

My mom raised her eyebrows at this, watching as Mason walked towards the rear of the house where the stairs were. That was when the begging began. She had me on my knees.

“You know he can’t stay here Oliver.”

“Mom,” I pleaded, my voice somewhat whiny. “He needs this. He’s my best friend. Please.” She laughed, and I knew it was because she didn’t consider Mason to be my best friend anymore. I hadn’t mentioned him in years; the last time she’d brought him up, I blew up at her.

(“Oliver, sweetheart, you don’t want to invite Mason to celebrate your birthday with us?” I was turning sixteen and I hadn’t talked to Mason in nearly eleven months.

She knew something had been off between us, as Mason hadn’t been to our house since I came out to him.

“It’s just another day,” I replied, feeling especially mopey. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

“I could call Katerina,” she suggested. “If you boys had a falling out, we can get things back on track. He’s been your best friend since first grade.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t know how to navigate how I was feeling. There was just so much shame and sadness that I hadn’t really taken the time to unpack.

“Can you just shut up?” I demanded. “We aren’t friends anymore, okay? It was my fault. There’s no way to fix it, so can you please just drop it?” I stormed off to my bedroom after that. I spent the rest of my sixteenth birthday alone crying in my bedroom. It was definitely a low. I knew the only reason my mom didn’t come after me was because it was my birthday. If it were any other day and I spoke to her like that, I’d probably be dead.)

“Oliver, we just can’t. You need to let his family work out whatever problem they’re dealing with.”

“Mom, if—if he can’t stay, I’ll leave with him,” I said, being dramatic.

“No, you won’t,” she replied, laughing. She was calling my bluff.

“I will,” I said, trying my best to win her over. “We’ll wander the streets, sleep in his Jeep. I might even have to become a prostitute to scrape by. We’ll drop out of high school. Do some drugs. Is that what you want Mom? I really don’t think it is.” I sounded like I was describing the plot of some made-for-TV movie.

“Oliver,” my mother said with a theatrical groan, massaging her temples. She obviously wanted to laugh at my monologue, which I knew would play into my favor. “If Katerina and Adrian come to take him home, we aren’t going to fight them on it, do you understand?”

She smiled at me gently. She was legit the best mother in the entire world. She probably only relented because she had just gotten in from work (and she’d had her bubble bath and a glass of wine). She worked as a nurse during a shift that went from three until ten-thirty, and that was when the hospital didn’t ask her to come in early or stay late.

“Yes, thank you!” I actually jumped for joy, clasping my hands together in gratitude. “You won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “He needs to sleep in your room because I don’t want him on my sofa. We just got that thing last year and the way he’s looking, it’d be sunken in within the month.”

I just laughed, promising Mason would not be allowed anywhere near her sofa. She likely assumed Mason was not gay. I knew right away that Mason had been outed to his family, but I didn’t make that information privy to my mother. When explaining why he needed to stay with us, I just sort of said his dad was mad about him quitting the football team and putting on some weight. I had been planning on telling her we were dating, but it was probably a good thing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m sure he won’t mind the floor for a little while.”

“Goodnight Oliver,” she said, walking towards where her bedroom was on the first floor. The second floor was an addition, and the only thing up there was my bedroom and a bathroom. “Mommy is tired. They want me to come in early tomorrow, so you kids need to keep it down.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Goodnight best mom in the entire universe.”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. “Tell Mason it was nice seeing him again.”

I made my way to the rear of the house and ran up the stairs to my room. I closed the door quietly.

“She said you could stay here until you’re able to work things out with your family.” I was smiling at him, but that excitement was short-lived. This wasn’t some slumber party. He was here because he couldn’t be at home.

“Thank God,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“She said you have to sleep in here,” I said in mock-apology. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to share a bed.”

“Well damn it,” he replied. “I guess if there’re no other alternatives.” He got off of my bed and walked towards me. He put his arms around me slowly and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him—which had gotten considerably more difficult post-Thanksgiving. I kissed him a little bit longer before pushing him away.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, trying to cull my arousal. We could not have sex right now. I felt weird about doing things like that with my mom in the house. I totally wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to think about it,” he answered. “I’d rather make out with my boyfriend—among other things.”

“We have to wait until tomorrow, or my mom will hear and freak out,” I said seriously.

We’d masturbated together a few more times since the first experience in the kitchen. He’d given me head a few more times, and I reciprocated that as well. But we hadn’t done the actual deed. With him living here for an unknown amount of time, especially during winter break, we were likely going to go all the way.

“We can be quiet,” he whined. I was so turned on by the fact he enjoyed being intimate with me. Hearing him beg for it almost had me relenting.

“It will be better tomorrow,” I said, walking over to my laundry basket and throwing my shirt into it.

“Fine,” he pouted before smiling. “But don’t expect me to let go of you all night.”

We got into the bed and he kept his promise. At least for this night, the first time we ever were going to sleep together in the same bed, he had me pulled closely into his beefy body. My full-sized bed was just right, but at the rate Mason was growing, I didn’t think it would be just right for long.

I knew he didn’t want to talk about what happened with his dad, at least not yet, so we enjoyed one another in silence. Before long, I could hear him gently snoring behind me. He was very warm and that made me feel so calm, that before long, I was also fast asleep.

I was awake a little after six and immediately got up to take a shower. Mason was still sleeping even after I finished my shower, so I went to make him breakfast. I had made hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He was still sleeping when I finished around nine.

I ate with my mom and she let me know she was going to spend the morning shopping with my grandmother. She would be home this afternoon to take a nap and get ready for work. After she left, I went to wake up Mason.

He sat up quickly when I mentioned there was breakfast waiting for him downstairs. He got out of bed. He was wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs and a white undershirt. His thighs were huge and strong looking. His ass was barely contained by the ash-colored fabric. His belly pushed the small shirt up a bit, around his belly button. His arms looked massive, and I wanted to grab ahold of them and never let go.

Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast.

“You can use the bathroom and come down for breakfast,” I said finally, regaining focus.

“Okay,” he said, sleepy eyed, scratching his tummy. He went off to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I heard the flush of the toilet, then the sink turning on and off, and about five minutes later he exited the bathroom, face scrubbed, and teeth brushed. We made our way downstairs.

Looking at the table, there was a ridiculous amount of food for one person. Even with what my mother and I ate, there was way too much for Mason. I’d used almost an entire bag of potatoes for the hash browns. I’d have to get another carton of eggs, having used the ten that we had in the fridge. The toast was buttered, and the bacon was crisp. I’d definitely been excited while cooking, thinking with my dick and not my head.

“I realize now this is an excessive amount of food.”

“I didn’t get to eat dinner last night,” he said. “I’m starving.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really was.

Mason tackled the spread like a competitive eater. He took a piece of toast and carefully folded it in half before adding some of the other ingredients, making a sort of taco. He did this until the eight pieces of toast were gone. He then ate what was left of the eggs and hash browns with hot sauce. He drank two big glasses of milk too. I didn’t realize how much he could eat. I was sitting at the table across from him.

It was after breakfast. My mom wasn’t home. We could finally have at it.

“You ate all of it,” I said, touching my boner underneath the table. I was wearing a pair of running shorts that came about halfway up my thigh. I was easily able to access my dick.

“Yeah,” he said, his face going red. “I didn’t have dinner and I was really hungry and it tasted so good.” He placed his hands on his belly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at the hem of his shirt, failing to keep it down. Majority of his clothes had begun to fit this way. “I guess you were wrong about the whole me getting fatter thing.”

“I was not wrong,” I said, standing. He took in my massive erection and smiled, relief showing on his face.

“We really are a pair of sexual deviants, huh?” I walked to his side of the table and grabbed his hand. He stood up, looking down at me for a moment. He scooped me up and held me in his powerful arms. We looked at one another for a moment. His eyebrows were so serious it made me laugh. He joined in and we laughed hard for a few moments.

“I got excited,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re so excited. It means it’s not just me.” Still in his arms, he made his way towards the stairs and ran us up to my room.

In a flurry, our clothing items flew off our bodies. His t-shirt, my shorts. My sweatshirt, his boxer briefs. We stood completely naked in the middle of my bedroom, and it was all sort of surreal.

“Oli, you’ve got a body like a porn star.”

“You may not be as defined as I am, but I’d much rather see you in a porno.” He laughed.

“We could be in one together,” he said, joking. “It’d be the only video I’d ever need for the rest of my life.”

I smiled at him, my hands on his waist. I enjoyed how he’d begun to spread out. His gut hadn’t been like this back in October. He was developing love handles, with little stretch marks around where his torso met his hips.

My hands moved to his biceps and he flexed them for me. My dick jumped at how solid his arms were, craving his body. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

I grabbed a condom and lube from a box in my closet. I didn’t think I’d ever get to use these things, and here I was about to use them with Mason. He moved onto the bed and he put his ass out for me.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve seen a lot of porn,” I said truthfully, almost half-regretting my honesty. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“No,” he said. “I hadn’t even kissed anyone before I kissed you.” I had made out with some guys before, but I didn’t want to spoil how sweet that was. Something about this whole situation was kind of empowering.

“I’ll be gentle,” I said, trying to be suave. Sure, I had seen my fair share of pornography, but seeing something and executing something were two very different things. I didn’t want to be bad at it. I was always the passive, quiet one and I had to admit, I enjoyed the idea of being the dominant one in the bedroom.

I lubed up my penis as well as his asshole. I slapped his butt, enjoying the sound it made. I did it again and he gasped softly. He arched his back a little, accentuating the size of his ass.

I entered his beautiful ass slowly. I started with just the head, not wanting to hurt him. He was breathing loudly, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. I moved slightly, pushing a little more of myself into him, and felt a tingle go throughout my whole body. Mason continued gasping and whimpering and breathing loudly as I slowly pushed more and more of my dick inside of him.

“Christ!” he yelped. I stopped moving.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked.

“Fuck, Oli,” he said, panting. “It’s starting to feel good. Keep going.” I did as I was told and bucked my hips back and forth, the sound of my upper thighs slamming against his fat ass creating a sort of beat. About halfway through he started tugging at his dick, moaning loudly as he came. That did it for me, and after a few more strokes, I filled the condom with my cum.

I was sure if someone were watching it would have looked awkward, but I didn’t care at all. I had never felt closer to a person. I had never felt closer to Mason.

Actual sex was way better than masturbating.

“Are you okay?” I asked, removing the condom and throwing it in my trashcan.

“That felt really good.” Mason was still panting. I walked over to the bed where he was laying down and laid next to him. “I was worried there for a second, but little Oli sure knows what he’s doing.” I laughed.

“That was possibly the best experience of my life,” I said. He rolled over on top of me, straddling me, and covered my face with kisses. I loved it.

“How much do you weigh now?” I inquired, feeling his weight pressing me down.

“Get the scale,” he said, swinging himself from on top of me. I got off of the mattress and made my way to the bathroom. I got the scale and set it in the center of my bedroom. He placed his large feet on the scale, and I read the number.

“283 pounds.” In less than three months, Mason had gained nearly sixty pounds. I was getting hard again just thinking about where he’d be three months, six months, a year from now. I stepped on the scale next, also getting off on how much more he weighed than I did. It read 160 pounds and a little extra. 123 pounds. Mason was 123 pounds bigger than me.

“You’re fucking tiny,” he said in disbelief, looking down at the number displayed on the monitor. “I never realized how little you are." I turned my naked body to face him and gestured to my flaccid cock, which admittedly, was still pretty big.

“I wasn't talking about that,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t weighed 160 pounds since the fifth grade.”

“Do you not like me being skinny?”

“I find your skinniness to be quite the turn on.” He kissed me, grabbing my ass. “And if we’re being honest, you store all your weight in just the right places.” I didn’t know why that made me so flustered, but it did. I felt my face go hot. I liked that he thought I had a nice ass.

“I’d have to say the same goes for you,” I said.

“I hope to get much bigger,” he said, stepping back from me. He flexed his arms and I felt myself getting hard again. He knew what he was doing, turning me on. He turned around, so I could look at his wide back and juicy butt. He was damn near a wall. He turned back around and looked at me with extreme intensity.

“What’s with that look all of a sudden?”

“I want to be able to keep you safe, Oli. I’m going to be big enough to protect you from everything.” I was so turned on again. He was adorable.

“Thanks Mason,” I said, reaching out to embrace him. We stood together for a few minutes before we took a shower and got dressed. Throughout the day Mason ate all the snacks we had in the house. We went shopping and stockpiled food in my bedroom. He didn’t want to let my mother know he was constantly inhaling food. We did have to keep all the milk he got in the fridge. I wondered what my mom would say about it. Two weeks of him eating this way and he’d get huge.

Holiday break could only last the two weeks; I knew it could only be two weeks, and yet the morning classes were to resume, I was an anxious mess. Mason’s constant eating slapped another ten pounds onto his beefy frame, putting him at 293 pounds. Everyone was going to notice. He was gigantic. He was still incredibly muscular underneath his recent gain though, only making him appear even wider.

The only time Mason was away from me was when he’d go to meet with his uncle to lift weights. Galvin told Mason he didn’t care that he was gay, and that Mason’s dad would come around soon. It meant a lot to Mason that his uncle still supported him.

Mason’s arms were big and strong, and his thighs were probably so large to hold up his massive bubble butt. His belly pushed up all his shirts and buttoning pants was just a waste of time, so he wore sweatpants and the biggest sweatshirt he could find. I felt bad. This day was going to be bad. He looked good to me of course, but everyone was going to stir up trouble. I didn’t want to go to school.

He drove us to school that morning and things were fairly similar to the way they were before break. That’s not to say people weren’t making comments, but there was nothing too out of the ordinary. Things were actually bearable until lunch.

We sat together, eating lunch amidst the stares of our nosy classmates. I had a fruit salad, some fries, a grilled chicken sandwich, and a banana. Mason had bought three slices of pizza, fries, chicken tenders, and three milks. It was like he didn't care about what was happening at all—all the stares, all the names, the comments, and dirty looks.

“How are you doing this?” I asked, eating a few fries, but not really feeling all that hungry. My stomach was in knots. He was already on his second slice of pizza.

“Well, I mean you kind of move your mouth in a gnawing motion after placing food in there. Like this—,” he said, taking a colossal bite and chewing theatrically. I laughed loudly. He was so dumb sometimes, able to make a joke that could distract me from my negative feelings. He smiled at me and started on his chicken tenders.

“I meant all of the people,” I said, clarifying what I was sure he knew I was originally referring to.

“I just don’t care,” he said seriously. “I wasted three years of my life caring about what other people thought. It’s 2012. Being gay shouldn’t be this big of an issue. I let other people tell me being gay was wrong. I don’t see anything wrong with it.” He gulped down his second milk, nibbling at his remaining fries. His sweatshirt exposed a bit of belly as it set in his lap. “I love you, Oli. I just think about that and I don’t even notice everybody else.”

He loved me? I knew I loved him too, but we hadn’t said it before.

“I think I’ll try that,” I said. “Thinking about how much I love you.” I thought I was supposed to be the one thinking positive? I was proud to call Mason my boyfriend.

I opened my banana and heard an increase in laughter. I looked over at Bret pointing at me.

“You thinking about Mason’s dick?” he called, causing his table to erupt in laughter again. I forgot not to get a banana. I hadn’t eaten a banana at school since freshman year. I moved the banana away from my lips, visibly distraught. It was so embarrassing being made fun of in front of Mason.

“Can I have that?” Mason asked as he smiled at me. I handed him the banana. “Thanks.” He put it in and out of his mouth suggestively, making a ridiculous face as well. He then shoved the whole thing in greedily. He had me doubled over in laughter again. He was so absurd sometimes. He chewed and drank the last milk.

“Mase, you’re so goofy.”

“Thanks. That was so good,” he said loudly, for Bret and his cronies to hear. He smiled again, his eyes sparkling. Was I falling even more in love with him? He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “I’m still hungry. I think I got too used to you keeping me well-fed. I’m going to get a cookie.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich. I felt better. Better than ever. I was almost done with my sandwich when Bret came over. That positive feeling didn’t stand a chance.

“What’s up faggot?”

“I don’t care what you call me.” I stood, looking to find Mason so we could spend the rest of the lunch period in the library. We could study for English. Anything would be better than having to stay around Bret for an extended period of time. Bret placed his hand on my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care about.” I looked up at him from my seat. He narrowed his blue eyes at me, making him look like a rat. This guy really hated me. I stood up again and turned to walk away, kind of afraid of what he was going to do to me. “I hate what you are. You did something to Mason.”

“Like what?” I asked, turning to face him. Did he think I was blackmailing Mason? Threatening him with violence? Casting love spells?

“I don’t know.” He took a cupcake from a tray on a neighboring table. He looked down at it for a moment, likely pausing for dramatic effect, before he slammed it into my face. “But I don’t like it.”

I’d spent years dealing with this sort of treatment from Bret, but for some reason this was actually getting to me. We were in the middle of the cafeteria and nearly everyone was looking at us now. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to take Mason’s words to heart. But he hadn’t experienced just how awful I’d been treated. I warily scrapped some of the frosting from around my eyes.

“Oh shit,” one of the girls nearby mumbled to the friend she was sitting with.

I turned, watching as Mason made his way over to where Bret and I stood. I saw his eyes travel from my face to Bret’s. Mason calmly set his cookies on the table next to me and pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The whole cafeteria was silent. It was like every sound had been magically muted.

“Mason,” I said nervously, trying to pull him away from Bret. “We need to go study for the Spanish quiz. We have to go now.” Bret was no match for Mason, and everyone else was still too afraid to even try and fight him. Mason was going to get in trouble. He used to get into fights all the time. He had never hit me, but I’d seen him pummel other assholes.

Mason yanked his arm from my grasp easily. Everything happened so fast, but I don’t think Bret landed a single blow on Mason. After about three minutes, I saw Bret was all purple and bloody.

“Fucking bitch!” Mason spat, his voice intense like the roar of a grizzly. The school security officers were coming. “You lay a hand on my boyfriend again and you’re dead.”

“Come on!” I pulled his sweatshirt and he finally stormed out.

“I should have killed him,” he said angrily, nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily.

“Okay, so yeah, Bret’s the worst,” I started, picking cupcake out of my eyebrows, “but I don’t think life in prison is going to solve anything. It’s not worth it.”

“I know, you’re right,” he said, his breathing slowing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by him anymore.”

“By a cupcake?” I asked jokingly, trying to calm him down further.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

He leaned against a row of lockers. This wasn’t going to go unchecked by the school. They’d call his parents over this. He might even get suspended.

“I forgot my fucking cookies!” he exclaimed angrily.

“I could totally make you some!” This side of Mason was really hot, but I knew he wasn’t feeling great about the whole situation. As sexy as angry-Mason was, I still preferred when he was happy.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” I asked, trotting behind him. He was making his way towards the exit. We ditched Spanish and English. I had never ditched a class before, and I felt like a fugitive.

He pulled up outside of my house.

“I’ll be back,” he said. I nodded and got out of the Jeep. He drove off. I had never seen Mason so upset. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with what Bret represented. Bret was a past that Mason wanted to forget. I knew Mason still struggled with guilt about how things had been between us the last three years, and I tried to assure him I had let that stuff go, but I knew he thought about it a lot. I didn’t know how to emphasize to him I wanted to just move on. High school would be over soon, and I would get to start the important years of my life. He had read an article about teen suicide in the LGBTQ+ community a few weeks ago. He looked sick after he finished it. I remember he looked at me seriously and said, “You could’ve killed yourself.”

Mason returned. He had gone to the gym. I looked at him and saw his huge arms and thighs looked pumped. He went to my bathroom and took a shower. I sat on the bed waiting. He exited the bathroom in a towel. His belly hung over the pink fabric. He dropped the towel revealing a beautiful ass. He looked so huge. Bret hadn’t stood a chance this afternoon.

I was always semi-erect around Mason but looking at him naked in front of me had me fully hard. He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed. He leaned his body against mine. I could hear him breathing. I felt him press into me bit by bit. He was kind of whimpering, like a big Mastiff puppy.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I placed my hand on his monstrous thigh, squeezing it gently. “You stood up for me today, and I’m still hard thinking about how hot it was.” He grabbed me, pulling me close and passionately kissing me.

He ended up on his back in the bed and I ended up giving him head. It was the least I could do for how he stood up for me. And Mason couldn’t help himself, so I ended up getting head in return. But then I couldn’t help myself and found myself with his dick in my mouth again. It was a cycle that I didn’t really want to see broken.

That fight with Bret didn’t go unchecked by school administration. Mason’s parents had to come have a meeting with the principal and the dean. Both he and Bret were let off with warnings, but the school made it very clear that they could not protect Mason from the law next time, considering he was nineteen and Bret was only seventeen.

He moved back home after that, which was honestly kind of sad. We’d only gotten to live with one another for less than a month. He and his father did finally start talking again, but Mason told me it was strained conversation.

Nobody messed with us again until Valentine’s Day. In our school there was a fundraiser where a person could purchase a flower to send to a friend or crush or romantic partner. Of course, I had never gotten one, but Mason used to get tons of them every year. I went to buy one and I wrote a card for it. I wrote: Mason, I love you. Yours forever, Oliver.

I thought it looked sophisticated and mature. I paid the two dollars, took the carbon copy receipt, and went to class. I wondered if he even thought about those stupid flowers. Then I wondered if he got me one. I was getting all excited thinking about it, but I knew to keep my expectations in check.

I met him before first period. We were working when the flowers were delivered. I didn’t expect one this period. They measured out the number of flowers a person was to receive and equally distributed them throughout the day. If a person were to receive only one rose, they’d get it during their last period of the day. But I got one anyway, in first period, which meant I had more coming. There was no name. It was a card with one word: Faggot.

Mason looked at me to see who it was from, but I quickly put it in my pocket. “I hope you’re not cheating on me,” he joked, smiling at me.

“Of course not!”

“Well, why can’t I see the card?”

“It’s mine,” I said. This was likely Bret fucking with me again. I could not let Mason know about this. He might actually kill Bret this time, and I didn’t very much think orange was Mason’s color. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he replied sternly, his eyebrows furrowed. He was mad. Throughout the day I got the flowers with the same card. With each one, Mason got more and more unnerved. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. At lunch he didn’t say a word. He ate a lot extra so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. I didn’t want him to see them. We couldn’t afford another incident like when he beat Bret to a pulp over a cupcake. He’d go berserk if he knew what was happening.

We walked to Spanish in silence. I got another card, and it said the same thing, but with a name—Bret. Surprise, surprise. I knew it was him. Nobody else would go so far to harass someone. Mason gave me a look of death and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to go home. English came and I got my first nice flower all day. It said: I think you’re the best boyfriend in the world. Love, Mason.

I put that one in a separate pocket. Mason had gotten his first flower, which I was assuming was the one I purchased for him. He scanned it over and over. I hoped he liked it. Maybe it would make up for not showing him the Bret cards. I looked up at him and smiled. He stood up and stormed out; I followed. I heard Bret laughing as I entered the hallway.

“Mason! Wait up, what’s wrong? Mason!” He turned to face me. I saw he was trying to think about what to do. He pushed me into a locker, and it felt like he was getting ready to punch me.

“You—,” he started. He pulled out the card and read. “‘It’s over, Mason. I’ve gotten you back for three years of absolute torment. Did you really think I’d ever want to be with you, especially now? You’re a joke.’” Mason hadn’t stopped growing since moving back home. He was up another ten pounds, putting him at 303 pounds. I loved every ounce of him. I would never send that. I hoped he’d be smart enough to realize that.

“Please don’t hit me,” I exclaimed, flinching. He didn’t. Thank Jesus; he could have given me internal bleeding or something.

“I’d never put my hands on you,” he said angrily. Now he was mad and offended.

“I would never send that,” I said, pulling out the carbon copy receipt. “Look.” I handed him the card and he read it, looking relieved.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. He was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling. “I knew you didn’t send this, and it still got me emotional. I’m so sorry for pushing you. I’d never hit you. I swear I wouldn’t. But those cards you’ve been getting all day have really fucked with my head.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the cards. I hadn’t wanted him to see them, but at this point I had to be honest.

“These are the cards I’ve been getting all day, okay?” He read them and really went insane, heading for the exit.

“Mason, we’re going home, yeah?”

“Hell no. We are waiting for Bret and this is going to end today. Oliver, I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, I might just kill him.”

“You’ll get in trouble,” I said immediately. “No way.”

“Not if it’s after school.” That was ridiculous. He’d so still get in trouble. We passed through the doors leading outside as the afternoon announcements came on.

“You can’t do this Mason,” I said, trying my best to calm him down. “You’ve got to let this go.” The bell finally rang and two minutes later kids surged out of the building. He ran right at Bret who had been describing what he had done to two of his own beta-males. Bret was knocked to the ground.

Bret looked up at Mason from the ground. Mason was in a t-shirt alone. We hadn’t stopped at our lockers. The sleeves in the underarm area ripped with the advanced movement of his huge arms. Mason leaned over and punched him, harder and harder.

He stood straight up, hovering over Bret who was still laying on the pavement. “You ever fuck with us again, you’ll get your ass kicked worse than this.” There was a group around us, which formed a circle. Mason then spoke to them, turning every so often. It was almost like we were in the Colosseum, Mason a gladiator orating to the spectators.

“I like men,” Mason began. “But don’t let that confuse you. I can still fuck up anybody who steps to me or my boyfriend.” People were hanging on his every word. It was amazing.

“And this bitch over here,” Mason continued, gesturing towards Bret, “Has the weirdest fucking obsession with us. He went out of his way to send my boyfriend flowers all day today. I guess you could say he has a little crush.” This had people laughing now. “Babe, you should thank him for the flowers, but do let him down easy.”

“Uh, thanks for the flowers,” I said, uneasy having been put on the spot, but excited to be standing up to Bret in front of everyone for the first time. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend, so maybe you could find someone else.” The circle erupted in a resounding ‘Ohhhh!’ and lots of laughter.

“So who started this?” Mason asked the bloodthirsty spectators.

“Bret!” the crowd shouted. “Bret! Bret! Bret!” Mason started to walk off and I followed close behind him. The crowd parted so we could pass. I had never wanted to fuck him more than now. We could still hear people chanting and laughing as we made it to his Jeep.

Once inside, he drove towards my house, eyes focused intently on the road. His stomach growled loudly. There was a slight pause after the growling ceased, and then we both laughed loudly.

“Now I’m starving,” he said. I knew exactly what I wanted to make him.

As soon as we made it to my house, I started cooking. Mason went off to take a shower, saying something about needing to cool off. The whole situation with Bret still had him slightly heated. I was definitely still wound up from that encounter too, but not in the same way as Mason. Just thinking about how he’d stood up for the both of us had me soaking through my briefs. I’d been hard for some time now, ever since Mason’s whole ‘Are you not entertained?’ bit.

I cooked and cooked and cooked until I ended up making much more food than I thought we needed. It was just the two of us, but I’d made enough for five. I just couldn’t control myself when cooking for Mason. I loved seeing how much he could put away, how pleased his face would be when he ate an excessive amount of food.

I made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. It was a dumb concept that I came up with back in middle school during the early days of my culinary exploration. The main component was a mozzarella-stuffed chicken breast that I would deep fry. I served it with macaroni and cheese. And, even though I knew it was overkill, broccoli covered in a cheese sauce (I’d even made a dozen rolls, and no, they weren’t cheese stuffed). It was a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare, but Mason had never had any problems with dairy. He probably couldn’t go on living without it. I made five of those chicken breasts, a huge serving dish worth of broccoli, and enough mac and cheese for a family of four.

About an hour later he came lumbering down the stairs. I’d just finished plating the food, with parsley and everything. He sat at the table, shirtless, and I took in his quarter-sized nipples. His pecs were still firm but had a nice layer of fat over them. My mouth didn’t water when I thought about dinner, but Mason’s tits had me almost drooling all over myself. I never would have thought he would be this big. I set his plate and silverware in front of him, and then the basket of rolls.

“I made too much,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” he said, smiling up at me from his seat at the table, “especially since you made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special.” I felt my face go hot. It meant a lot to me that Mason remembered the name of this meal, but I needed to come up with a new one. Something that wasn’t so embarrassing. I wasn’t twelve anymore.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pouring him a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time getting started. He didn’t even use silverware to eat the chicken breast, simply picking it up and taking a large bite, pulling the meat away from his mouth causing an impressive cheese pull.

In this moment, watching him happily eat, I realized that Mason hadn’t really changed all that much since we were younger. Yeah, he was over a hundred pounds bigger and six inches taller, but he was still the same silly, considerate, sometimes hot-headed guy I’d always had a crush on.

I must’ve been staring, because he looked up from his plate, catching my gaze. He stopped racing through the food on his plate, eating more slowly.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, chewing, stabbing a broccoli floret with his fork. “You haven’t even started eating yet.”

“I just really love you,” I said honestly. “I can’t help staring.”

“C’mon Oli,” he said, his face reddening, “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, I love you too,” he said, his face still flushed. “I’m really lucky, you know? Who’d ever think a guy like you would be interested in me.”

Whoa—Mason was always surprising me. My initial assessment wasn’t completely fair to him. Mason had changed. In a way that was really significant.

He’d become more courageous.

He was brave enough to come out, to date me, to change his body in a way that wasn’t considered conventionally attractive. Even if all the things I loved about him from our youth were the same, I was fortunate enough to be able to love the man he was becoming as well.

I stood, going to refill his plate. He ate this serving just like the first, like if he didn’t get it all down fast enough someone might come and take it away. I sat down and watched, picking at the portion I’d set aside for myself. I wasn’t even hungry. I had no idea how he ate so much. He’d eat a roll every so often. I was able to refill his plate once more, and he ate that with the same amount of gusto. He got up the excess cheese that remained on the plate with the last roll.

“Fuck, that was just as good as I remembered.” He leaned back, placing his hands on his belly, rubbing it gently.

“Can—uh, can I do that?” I asked. He grinned.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, turning in the chair away from the table. He spread his legs, waiting for me. I went to the other side of the table as he pushed away from it. I knelt on the ground and rubbed his bloated gut, my hands traveling to his sides so I could squeeze the love handles pushed up by his underwear.

I moved toward his broad chest, squeezing the flesh there as well. Fuck, there was just so much of him. He was only wearing underwear, so I saw he was getting hard. I leaned forward, and began to kiss his belly, licking around his navel. His stomach tensed and relaxed.

“You like this gut?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“I love this gut,” I replied. His dick jumped in his underwear.

He stood, pushing me back slightly. I looked up from beneath his belly, and it made me think about that day at the bike racks a few months ago. I’d thought of him as a giant then, but compared to what I was looking at now, that version of Mason was minuscule.

Mason removed his dick from his boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my mouth at the base of his penis above his balls. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his skin after a shower. I licked his shaft slowly, raising a hand to feel the heft of his belly above me. It didn’t need my support, as it was a solid sphere that hadn’t gotten large enough yet to droop. I thought about that phrasing and it sent me to another level of arousal. Large enough yet. Mason would likely be bigger than this soon. 300 pounds was the point where most guys would fight to get their waistlines in check, but I knew Mason didn’t care about that. He’d want more, and I wanted to help him.

I heard him moaning above me, one of his hands grabbing my hair, the other on the side of his gut. “Fuck, Oli,” he grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

I stopped and stood up.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He agreed to head up to my room, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me ravenously first. He loved kissing, and I definitely wasn’t against it, but we hadn’t moved yet. Mason was still kissing me. On my neck. My forehead. My cheeks. He reached for his penis, but I stopped him.

“Upstairs,” I reiterated.

He nodded. His eyes had that glazed over look again. He followed me to the staircase, and as I ascended, I heard the stairs creaking loudly as he heavily padded up after me.

I wanted to fuck him with all I had. Each time I wanted more and more to have the best sex ever, and each time it was the best sex ever. I didn’t know if it was because we were getting better at it or the fact that our relationship was becoming so much more serious, but whatever it was, I hoped it continued.

He pulled off his boxers and leaned over my desk, his beefy forearms resting on top. His strong legs were spread apart, and his knees were slightly bent. In this position, his stomach seemed more noticeable. It hung down, round and bloated. I wanted to cradle it in my hands from behind.

I slid on a condom and carried the lube over to where he was waiting for me. I covered my dick in the slick substance before gently massaging his hole. “I’m ready,” he breathed. “I want it, Oliver.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed onto one of his love handles as I led my member inside of him. This ass was everything. I’m pretty sure he worked it out extra hard because he knew I loved it so much. Seeing my hands cradling his meaty cheeks was unreal. I didn’t have abnormally large hands, but he had such a massive ass, they looked almost feminine. I pushed my entire dick inside of him, thrusting back and forth more forcefully than I had before. He moaned and moaned—saying my name, telling me how good it felt. I felt the tingle I came to expect wash over me. I wasn’t sure if it was endorphins or what, but I was close to finishing and feeling amazing.

He took a sharp intake of breath, shooting cum across the front drawers of my desk. I pushed hard a few more times. I’d never felt so good before. I came loads, my legs turning to jelly for a few moments, almost causing me to lose my balance. “Aw, fuck,” I managed to get out, grabbing his hips gently.

We moved over to the bed and laid back. His belly moved up and down.

“That gets better and better,” he panted.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He rolled over on top of me. I loved that, the weight of his fat body pressing into me. It was incredible. He just laid there, kissing my face and neck until I had to tap out. He rolled back over, smiling.

The next thing I remember was waking up. We’d fallen asleep. It was now around eight. I tried to shake him awake.

“Mason,” I said. “Mason wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Mason,” I laughed, “You can’t stay here. Your parents will wonder where you are.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” he said into a pillow. “Let them wonder.”

“But our homework,” I said half-heartedly, also not in the mood to complete any schoolwork or send him on his way. I got up and checked my assignment book. Nothing was due tomorrow. I locked my door and got back in bed. He turned so I could place my head on his chest. He had his arm wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever.

Mason dozed back off almost immediately, but I laid awake thinking.

We only had a couple of months left in senior year. I’d gotten into my first-choice university and all of my safety schools, but there was definitely something that had me reconsidering going away to a four-year university. I didn’t really have any idea of what I wanted to major in. Nothing in the traditional sense was appealing to me. I didn’t want to be a teacher or a lawyer or a nurse.

Being with Mason reignited a passion that had laid dormant for years. I loved being in the kitchen and perfecting different recipes. Attending culinary school might be what I want to do post-graduation. It might have been youthful optimism, but I could see myself one day owning a restaurant.

Mason was going to the college thirty minutes from where we lived. I knew there was a program near him that was accredited and offered lots of opportunities for growth. I could feel myself getting excited by this idea. I hadn’t even been this excited opening up my college acceptance letters. This passion had to mean something. It just had to.

I could do it. I would do it! I’d always longed for a life outside of high school, and now I was starting to see that life more clearly. Even if the future was a mixed bag of possibilities, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mason.

The End!

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #fatfiction #gainerfic #gainerstory #gay feeder #gay feedee #weight gain

[andopandor]

On Thick Ice

My first gay gainer story, let me know what you think. Sorry for low quality images :(

After hockey practice, Oscar exits the locker room and makes his way to the exit of the arena. He's exhausted but satisfied after a hard day's practice. Standing at 6'2", Oscar is the epitome of a college ice hockey star. His long dark hair is messy from practice and his eyes are intense and focused. He has a toned athletic build, with broad shoulders and well-defined abs. But despite being known for his physical prowess, Oscar secretly wishes he could let it all go. He wants to be able to eat whatever he wants and put on the pounds like the rest of his college friends.

On his way out, Oscar bumps into Clay, who's busy closing up the arena concession stand where he works. Clay apologizes profusely, but Oscar waves it off with a smile. Both of the men had noticed each other previously, and were eager to exchange a few friendly words. As they small talk, Oscar's stomach suddenly rumbles and he realizes that it's time for his post-practice snack. Turning to Clay, he asks, "Hey, I'm really sorry, but I'm starving. Do you have any food left?"

Clay nods, always enthusiastic to help a hungry guy out. In fact, he took special pleasure in watching the college hockey team bulk up during the off-season - if only they didn't always cut again before October. "Take a seat, I've got just the thing to hit the spot after a long day of practice." With that, Clay turns around and heads to the back room of the concession stand. He quickly assembles two large, juicy cheeseburgers and a mountain of thick-cut fries. As he returns to the front counter, he can't help but steal a glance at Oscar, wondering how much he could make this handsome hockey star eat.

As Clay sets the food in front of Oscar, the athlete can't help let out a moan of delight. "God, that smells amazing," he breathes, his stomach rumbling loudly. He quickly digs in, taking huge bites of the burger and swallowing fries two at a time. He lets out satisfied grunts between each bite, feeling the weight of the food settle comfortably in his belly.

As Oscar tucks into his meal, Clay feels a little thrill watching him enjoy it so much. He clears his throat, suddenly feeling a bit bold. "So, you know, if there's anything else you're in the mood for, just let me know. I mean, we've got soda, shakes, ice cream... it's on the house." He smiles, hoping he's not being too forward.

Oscar pauses mid-chew, his cheeks still bulging with food. He swallows and looks up at Clay, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh really? You know, I've always had a thing for your banana milkshakes... and I wouldn't mind having it nice and thick, with extra whipped cream." He licked his lips, his gaze never leaving Clay's. "Would you be able to make that for me?"

There's an electric charge in the air as Clay holds Oscar's gaze for a second longer. He wonders if Oscar is as into this as he is, feeling a rush of excitement at the idea of this handsome hockey star throwing away his toned body over Clay's food. A flush creeps up Clay's neck as he mentally pictures Oscar 50 lbs heavier. He nods, unable to form words for a moment.

"Yes, yes, of course! I'd be happy to make that for you." Clay hurries to the counter, grabbing two glasses and a pitcher of ice cream from the back. He pours the thick, creamy mixture into the glasses, topping them off with whipped cream and a cherry. He places the shakes in front of Oscar and lingers a moment, watching Oscar take the first sip. The way the athlete closes his eyes in pleasure, softly moaning around the straw... it's all too much for Clay. He returns to the service counter, trying to regain his composure.

As Oscar takes another sip of his shake, he notices that Clay is a bit flustered. He decides to tease the concession worker a bit, seeing how cute he looks when he's turned on. With a satisfied groan, Oscar takes a big stretch, his jersey riding up to reveal his expanding stomach. He slaps it a few times contentedly. "Mmm... that feels good," he murmurs, grinning at Clay's wide-eyed expression. "It's amazing any of us are still fit enough to play, with you working here." He takes another deep sip, savoring the taste and the power he has over the concession worker.

Clay's heart pounds in his chest as he watches Oscar slowly rub his stomach. He's almost certain that Oscar is purposefully playing with his emotions, but he needs to make sure. "So, Oscar," he asks, "did you have plans after practice, or...?"

Oscar only smiles and lifts an eyebrow, inviting Clay to continue.

"Or do you want to hang around and... I can show you around the kitchen?"

Clay knows it's a transparent excuse to move somewhere more private, but when he sees the spark in Oscar's eyes, he can tell that the athlete understands his implications exactly. With a nod and a grin that promises all kinds of mischief, Oscar stands and follows Clay to the back room of the concession stand.

As Oscar walks, he can feel his newly bloated belly filling out his compression shirt in a way it's never done before. As the fabric brushes against the smooth skin, Oscar is surprised to feel a hard-on growing against his pants. He's already stuffed to his limit, yet strangely he wants more.

The back room is dimly lit and quiet, offering the two men some privacy. The air between them crackles with anticipation, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Clay speaks up first. "You can sit down over there, I've got something for you." Clay has noticed the athlete's round belly and developing erection, and decides that it's his turn to take charge.

Clay disappears into the shadows for a moment, only to emerge with a large flat box in his hands. "What's in there?" Oscar asks.

Clay smirks. "I have all these warm chocolate chip cookies that won't be any good tomorrow. If no one eats them, we'll just have to throw them away..."

Oscar peers inside the box. There are around two dozen in there. His erection presses harder at the thought of eating them all. He laughs, a warm sound that sends shivers down Clay's spine. His voice is husky with desire. "Well, I guess we should find a way to get rid of those cookies then. Good thing I always have room for dessert."

Suddenly, Oscar pulls Clay onto his lap with surprising strength. Clay gasps, feeling Oscars growing body pressed against his own. He can feel the athlete's erection warm against his thigh, and he knows his own is equally obvious at this point. He takes one of the fresh, buttery cookies and holds it up against Oscar's lips. Oscar chews and swallows it greedily, and then another. And another.

In between devouring cookies, Oscar peels off his practice jersey and pulls up the shirt underneath, allowing his distended belly to breathe. Clay begins to massage Oscar's stomach, feeling its warmth and solidity. "Don't eat too much," he warns, his voice teasing. "You don't want to get fat, do you?"

Oscar groans, his belly tingling against Clay's soft touch. "I will be, if you keep feeding me," he manages to say through a mouthful of cookie. He takes another bite, and another, relishing the feel of Clay's hands over his expanse of skin. The athlete moans deeply with desire, enjoying both the soft, creamy cookies and Clay's gentle touch.

Not long later, to both of their shock, there are only four cookies left. Oscar's belly is solid as rock and feels like it has doubled in diameter. "Fuck, I'm full... I can't eat any more," he complains, but Clay lifts another cookie to his lips. He can tell that Clay won't stop feeding him until he's eaten every cookie in the box - and deep inside, Oscar wants to give up all control to Clay, to let him destroy his athletic body.

Clay smirks, relishing the power he has over Oscar at this point. Another two cookies move from the box into Oscar's stomach. "Maybe just one more," Oscar murmurs, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in anticipation.

As Clay feeds Oscar the last cookie, his other hand finds its way down to Oscar's crotch, feeling the heat and hardness through his hockey shorts. His fingers move to undo the straps and strings.

As his pants spill open, Oscar's round belly swells, finally free to take up its proper space. With the release in pressure, Oscar moans in pain and pleasure. "I'm fucking stuffed," he gasps, his voice thick with lust.

Clay's hand finds its way to Oscar's cock, hard through his boxers, teasing it. Oscar arches forward, offering himself to the other man. He is unbelievably aroused. "Please," he whispers, "let me fuck you.

Clay's fingers dance across Oscar's tight belly, tracing patterns that ignite a fire in his groin. Clay leans in, kissing Oscar's neck, his lips trailing down to his collarbone. "You're so fucking fat and gorgeous," he whispers, "I want to feel you on me, feel your weight on top of me." He continues to massage both Oscar's belly and cock, moving faster now, his touch more urgent. He pulls down the waistband of Oscar's underwear, revealing his cock, hard and ready. "I want to feel you inside of me."

Their eyes meet, and in that moment, the tension snaps. They both know what needs to happen next. With a growl, Oscar grabs Clay's hair and pulls him close, their lips crashing in a fierce kiss. Clay feels Oscar's swollen body against his, feels the hockey player's inflated torso against his own. He gasps as Oscar's thick cock slides inside him. He pushes back against Oscar, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

Yet his hands remain on Oscar's thick belly, exploring its girth. He can't believe that this is really happening. He did this. He made Oscar grow like this. He has never been so turned on in his life. He can feel the other man's control slipping, feel the desperation building inside him. He wants it to go on forever, but he knows neither of them can last much longer.

With a final urgent thrust, Oscar releases inside of Clay, and Clay finishes moments later, spilling across Oscar's smooth belly. Oscar pants heavily to catch his breath, his gut heaving. Clay leans forward to kiss Oscar, feeling his massive dome of a belly underneath him. They remain there for a while, feeling the weight of each other, the warmth of their skin, the rhythm of their breath.

After a moment, Clay carefully disentangles himself from Oscar and helps him straighten up, a challenging task with his belly in the way. Oscar leans into Clay, kissing him softly on the lips. "That was... incredible."

Clay flushes, but can't help the smile spreading across his face. "See you next week after practice, then?"

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay gainer #gay belly #gainerstory #male weight gain #wg story #stuffing

[feeder86]

Tommy's Two Hundred

From the moment Tommy had joined the gay dating app, he’d spotted that the closest person to him geographically was a catfish. It was obvious from the little thumbnail picture that no one with a body that good could live so close by and him not know about it. The picture, showing the massive pecs and toned six pack were guaranteed to have been stolen from some straight bodybuilder somewhere in the world; but definitely not anyone who lived within at least two hundred miles of this backwards town in the middle of nowhere. The guy was probably some lonely, middle aged man seeking some attention that he did not deserve; attention that Tommy had no intention of bestowing upon him.

With his good looks and average height, Tommy soon found himself on a couple of dates with guys from the app. Some a little older; a couple still in college. He always got himself so excited before each one, having enjoyed endless kinky exchanges beforehand, back and forth. He liked it when the guys led the conversation with their horny talk, getting most aroused when they spoke about dominating him and tying him up. He gave these virtual suitors a deep, authorative voice in his head as he read out their messages, imagining the ways they’d seek their pleasure from him. In these fantasies, he built an entire persona for his dates; the way they spoke, the way they acted; the things they would do to him after getting back. He was his own worst enemy. No one could live up to such expectations. Despite being bold and brave behind the keyboard of their cell phones, the guys were never as Tommy pictured them in real life. They were polite and friendly; a little kinky perhaps, but only behind closed doors. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Tommy’s bubble to burst, leaving him stuck on a dull date with another boring Mr Average. 

As Valentine’s Day rolled around once more, Tommy felt the sting of still being single at the age of twenty-four. Friends, who thought they were being helpful, lamented about how difficult it was to understand why a guy so good looking and successful was still on the shelf. Tommy, however, knew that he just wasn’t being plain enough with people about what he was really after. He’d wasted more than a couple of years of his time on guys who were never going to please him in the ways he most wanted. If he was going to find the man of his dreams, he would need to start his dating profile from scratch.

Stripping his shirt and binding his hands with rope, Tommy posed for his new profile picture. He updated his username to include his submissive nature. Then, it was finally time to work on the profile itself. He stripped it bare of the mundane details about his favourite hobbies and movies, his education and aspirations. In their place, he went to town about his kinky interests and desires. He wanted to submit himself to someone entirely, openly and without reservations. Like a form of cosmic ordering, he outlined in great detail the sort of kinky, dominant guy he was on the lookout for, and ended by posting a further picture of his toned, naked body, wrists and ankles bound with handcuffs.

With breathless excitement, Tommy saved his changes and waited with fizzing excitement for his first messages. 

Nothing. Sure, his profile had had lots of views, but no one had felt compelled enough by it to reach out. 

Days went by. Tommy began to feel that he had made a mistake; that he had exposed himself and his kinks too openly on the app. Perhaps, rather than being turned on by his pictures and words, they were laughing at him instead; his extreme submissive fantasies, too weird and niche for anyone to actually want to meet him. Maybe the man of his horny dreams didn’t actually exist.

By the end of the second week, Tommy had made up his mind to delete the account. He gave his profile one final read, cringing as he tried to imagine it from another person’s perspective, then he stormed onto the app settings and found the exact link he needed to erase it entirely.

Just as he did so, Tommy saw a message pop up on the screen: 

‘Nice profile.’ 

Assuming sarcasm, Tommy skeptically tapped his way into his inbox and rolled his eyes when he saw that the message had actually come from the catfish profile of the guy who supposedly lived right here in town. 

‘Thanks,’ he typed back, determined that he would never be rude enough to ignore anyone who messaged him.

‘If you’re really as submissive as you claim, I’d be very interested in meeting you,’ came the next response.

Again, Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake profile picture. However, given that in five minutes time he would be deleting the app for good anyway, why not just click on the profile and take a look?

What Tommy saw next altered his perspective entirely. He didn’t care if the profile picture was a fake; a guy who could write like that, so erotically, about his desires to dominate, could look however they wanted to in real life. Tommy needed to meet them.

What followed over the next couple of hours was a kinky exchange where Tommy literally poured his heart and soul out to the mystery man on the other end. No one had ever shown such an interest in his kinks, nor drawn them out of him with such precision. So, when the offer of a meet at the coffee house in town came up, he didn’t think twice.

Sitting with his back to the door, Tommy waited patiently, but with a realistic mindset that a guy with a fake profile picture was unlikely to ever actually show up. Then, suddenly, he felt a large, warm hand land on his shoulder and a deep, masculine voice rumble into his ear. “Tommy?”

Tommy didn’t turn his head. He wanted to preserve that catfished image of the man he had been messaging for just a few moments longer. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw that very same man appear in the flesh. Tall, strapping, muscular and handsome; it was as if a beautiful, mid-twenties Greek god had just arrived in his hometown; from out of absolutely nowhere. 

“I’m Hunter,” the guy smiled, reaching out his large hand to shake.

Tommy couldn’t help admitting to the fact that he hadn’t believed Hunter’s profile pictures to be real, and Hunter nodded, saying that he had been told the same thing many times. He seemed pleased by Tommy’s appearance too, stroking his knee gently under the table as they settled into their first real conversation.

A few moments later, Hunter was up and ordering coffees for them both. Tommy turned to catch the guy from behind as he stood at the counter: so tall, with such perfect glutes and that broad back adorned with muscular shoulders. Was this really Tommy’s lunchtime date?

Hunter soon returned carrying a tray with coffees and, surprisingly, a large slice of triple chocolate cake, which he placed in front of Tommy. 

Politely, Tommy thanked him for it, even though he had not asked for something to eat and actually felt a little awkward picking at it when Hunter did not have anything himself.

“I wanted to discuss our sexual interests,” Hunter stated next, steering the conversation when Tommy seemed to be taking it down a more mundane path. “The domination and submission.”

Tommy felt his cheeks getting hot. There were another two couples close by; probably within earshot. But Hunter didn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“What do you want to know?” Tommy replied excitedly.

“Actually, I think it's time that you listened to me instead,” Hunter replied sternly, putting Tommy in his place perfectly. “It’s lucky that I saw your profile as I don’t use that app much for meeting guys.”

“Where do you usually meet guys?” Tommy asked, sensing that Hunter had paused for him to ask just such a question.

“A few places,” Hunter shrugged, flicking through his cell phone. “These are some of my previous subs,” he offered, holding up his phone and swiping through pictures of himself next to other guys in various forms of submission to him: on their knees, bound and gagged, you name it. “Do you notice anything in particular about the guys I sleep with?” Hunter asked next. His tone was serious and it was obvious that he wanted Tommy to respond in much the same way.

The answer came to Tommy immediately, but he squirmed as he tried to think of a way to reply to Hunter, without seeming rude. “Well, you’re so…” he mumbled, gesturing towards Hunter’s powerful body and chest. “And yet, these guys here… there’re a bit…”

“They’re fatties,” Hunter stated for him; obviously not one to dress his language up. “I need you to just come out with it in the future when I ask you questions,” he stated frankly. “That’s the way I work. No bullshit.”

Tommy nodded, feeling turned on by how direct Hunter could be. Having discussed in such detail what his dream dominant would be, it was almost as if Hunter was slotting perfectly into place. 

“Why fatties?” Tommy asked, hoping that mirroring Hunter’s language would please him.

“Because fatties turn me on,” Hunter replied plainly. “I work hard to build my body up. So when I fuck a sub, I need him to be soft and doughy for me.” He reached over to the plate of half eaten cake in front of Tommy and gave it a gentle nudge. 

Tommy’s eyes bulged. Hunter wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t like to bullshit. His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. “So, you bought me the cake because…” he mumbled. He considered leaving it there and posing it as a question to Hunter, but he got the sense that the dominant hunk in front of him wanted him to just say what he believed to be true. “You bought me the cake to… soften me up.”

Hunter smiled for the first time in a few minutes and he leaned in, putting his giant hand back on Tommy’s knee. “That’s right,” he nodded, seeming to be genuinely delighted that Tommy had been frank with him. “Submission for me, is more than just slipping on a pair of handcuffs during sex. Submission is a lifestyle. It should be your entire body. You should wear it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

Feeling his heart beating faster and his palms sweating simply from hearing Hunter’s deep voice speaking at such a volume about things, without a care in the world, Tommy nodded. “I agree,” he answered. “Submission should be a lifestyle.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Hunter nodded again, his eyes now fixed on the still half eaten cake.

“Oh,” Tommy shook himself, picking up his fork again and popping the next bit of cake into his mouth. Instinctively, he apologised and Hunter did not correct him for it.

“I’m not going to lie,” Hunter stated, nodding subtly with approval. “I think this could work between us.”

“You do?” Tommy shot back with so much delight that he immediately wanted to punch himself in the face for it. “That’s cool,” he nodded, trying to seem more relaxed.

“We’ll meet at my place next time,” Hunter told him, draining his coffee as if this interview was already over. “I’ll message you on the app.”

“Okay,” Tommy replied, surprised by how fast the date was over with. 

Hunter leaned in. “And make sure you finish that cake,” he whispered into his ear. “Every last crumb.”

Having Hunter so close sent exciting electrical pulses through Tommy’s brain: the smell of his delicious aftershave, those perfect lips so near to his face. “I will,” he replied sincerely, turning to look Hunter in the face in the hope that they may end with a kiss.

Hunter held Tommy’s gaze, studying him. But Tommy knew better than to be the one to initiate a kiss. “I know you will,” the hunk replied after a few seconds. “You’ll be a good boy,” he chuckled, then turned and walked away without a second glance.

Tommy raced home feeling more elated after a date than ever before. Finally, he had found someone who seemed to relate to him on a level that no one had before. And, unbelievably, the guy was hotter than anyone else he had ever dared to dream of.

Of course, there was the one part of the date that he was less sure about. He hadn’t come across someone so into domination that they had insisted their date consume cake for them. But just because it was a little different, didn’t mean that he had to view it negatively. After all, he’d got quite a kick out of complying, hadn’t he?

“Come on in,” smiled Hunter a few days later, opening the door to his apartment. 

Just as he had stated in his messages, Hunter had not long got in from the gym and still looked a little sweaty, dressed in tight, and particularly short, shorts, together with a well-fitted compression top that showed off every detail of his exquisite body. He was even taller than Tommy realised, making him feel so insignificant standing next to him. He tried not to faint, right there on the spot.

“Rule number one,” Hunter began. “When you come here, you take your clothes off as soon as you get inside.”

Tommy stared up at Hunter, wondering if he was serious. But as the pause continued, Tommy realised that Hunter was waiting for him to comply. He fumbled for a second, then began unbuttoning his shirt, feeling more than a little embarrassed to be doing this straight away. He’d taken so long to pick out his outfit for their second date. What a waste of time that was!

“Come on, quickly!” Hunter prodded him impatiently.

Tommy kicked off his shoes, removing his pants and underwear in one go, knowing that his dick was going to be pathetically hard already. He stood there after awkwardly removing his socks, not knowing whether to cover his hardness, or act like this was normal.

Hunter nodded with approval. He reached down into the pile of discarded clothes and pulled out Tommy’s underwear, holding them up as if for inspection, and gripping the small waist between his fingers. “Cute,” he chuckled to himself, seeming to find them highly amusing.

But Hunter did not throw them back onto the floor. He carried them as he turned into the apartment, clearly expecting the naked Tommy to do the same.

Following the jock inside and admiring those fine, muscular glutes just ahead of him, Tommy had never felt so turned on in his life. It had been immediate, from the moment he stepped inside. He felt, at that moment, that he would have eaten an entire mountain of chocolate cake if Hunter had told him to.

Hunter led him to the kitchen area, where Tommy was surprised to see that the big man was busy preparing a meal for them both, despite not having even showered yet. A good meal was clearly more important to him.

“Smells delicious,” Tommy chirped politely, still unsure whether to cover his boner with his hand as he trotted in.

Hunter raised his eyebrows in recognition of his comment, but did not reply. Instead, he pulled out a chair at his table and pointed for Tommy to sit whilst he went back to stirring and serving it out. 

There was something so sexy about a man in the kitchen. There were so many things on the go and yet Hunter did not seem in the least bit flustered. Everything was under complete control. But as Tommy watched, he noticed that it was all being served onto separate, single plates; not distributed between the two of them as he had expected.

At last, Hunter pulled out a chair and positioned it directly in front of Tommy. Then he sat, spreading his strong legs and looking at his guest seriously. “I enjoyed our date, Tommy. I really did. I think you’re a nice guy and I believe that you would make a great sub for me.”

Tommy smiled back, pleased; feeling the need to tuck his hardness between his thighs whilst Hunter was being so friendly.

“But if I’m going to spend some real time with you, I need to know what you can do. I also need you to see the type of man I really am. You may not like any of what I have planned tonight. You may want to leave. And that’s fine. But at least we'll both know where we stand, and neither of us will get our hopes up, thinking that this is more than what it is.”

Tommy looked from the gorgeous man to the piles of steaming food still on the counter. He knew that Hunter would want him to think for himself and be direct. “You want me to eat this for you, don’t you?” he asked, realising that the chocolate cake slice of their first date had just been the start of whatever kinky play Hunter was into.

Hunter simply nodded. “I want to see how far you’re willing to go for me.” 

The stud sat back, lifted his arms and removed the tight compression shirt he was wearing, revealing his remarkable torso to Tommy for the first time. 

Chuckling slightly at the obviously smitten expression on Tommy’s face, the large guy leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Are you ready to do this for me?” he whispered into his guest’s ear, before picking Tommy’s small hands up and placing them on his strapping chest.

The hot, sweet breath on Tommy’s neck, combined with the musky scent of the jock’s body, so firm and strong, made him want to climax there and then. “Yes,” he replied obediently.

Hunter sat back again with a smirk, making Tommy’s hands fall back down. He knew exactly the effect he was having upon the boy. He reached down to the guy’s stomach and, with the back of one finger, he stroked across the light six pack that showed there. “Goodbye, little buddy,” he teased wickedly. Then he stood up, seeming to loom larger than ever without his shirt on, and brought the plates and bowls to the table. 

Armed with only a fork and a spoon, Tommy was expected to feast on all of it.

Luck was on Tommy’s side; he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. Plus, Hunter was watching him, rubbing his back sweetly and advising him on what to eat next; taking him back and forth from one dish to another. But something seemed to happen about thirty minutes in. Hunter changed slightly. He’d had a laid back attitude the entire time that Tommy had been there, as if he wouldn’t have been bothered if Tommy cancelled the date and took himself home instead. Maybe he was used to that. But now he was actively supporting; up and about, fetching the furthest plates so that Tommy did not need to reach. The man’s breathing had altered as well, with deeper, more rapid intakes of breath as he watched Tommy eat. Then, with a small glance down, Tommy saw that the thickest hardness had swollen down one side of Hunter’s gym shorts. How incredible! Had Tommy really excited the dominant man that much?

“You’re doing well,” Hunter praised him; his voice deeper and more gravely than Tommy had heard it before. “I’m impressed.”

Tommy’s stretched out stomach began to really hurt about forty minutes in, yet he continued to push himself as far as he could. Some plates were clean now, which Hunter got up and replaced with some dessert items. Tommy had always enjoyed switching back and forth between sweet and savory items, so the additions to the table were more of a help than a hindrance.

Eventually, the time came when Tommy knew he would have to stop. His pace had slowed and he started selecting those easier, lighter items to make the remaining plates look at least a little emptier. “That’s it. I’m done!” he whimpered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his painfully distended stomach.

Despite expecting cries or protests from Hunter ordering him to finish the pathically small amount of pasta he had left, or gulp down the last few melting scoops of ice cream, Hunter simply sat there, surveying the destruction on the table. “Where did you learn to eat like that?” he asked, seemingly flabbergasted.

Tommy quietly dredged up a burp to relieve some of the pressure and shook his head. “Don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’ve always had a pretty good appetite.”

Hunter still seemed unable to comprehend what he had witnessed. “I’ve seen some seriously fucking fat boys eat less than half of what you just put away.”

Tommy burped again and found some pleasant relief; more than he was expecting. He knew how expensive the ice cream that Hunter had served him was, and decided to finish it off after all, not wanting to see it go to waste. He could see Hunter staring at him in amazement. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I’ve always had a very fast metabolism.”

“I can soon destroy that,” Hunter growled, giving away just how horny he was. “Natural greed like this… It's incredible. And very rare!” 

“Thanks,” Tommy smiled,unsure what else to say. 

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Hunter asked next, wrapping a big arm over Tommy’s shoulders, like a snake about to suffocate its prey. “I know you don’t have work in the morning. I can make you breakfast.”

A mixture of relief and arousal swept over Tommy. He’d made such an effort to eat, he’d all but forgotten the fact that he’d need to catch the bus home later.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Hunter teased, as if Tommy needed persuading. He reached for a tiny bottle of lubricant in his shorts and tipped a small amount of it onto his fingertips, before gently massaging the head of Tommy’s hardness.

Tommy gasped and grabbed for the sides of his seat, as if the floor was about to cave in. Hunter was so good at this. All that eating made the oxygen catch in his chest and it took him a few seconds to get his breathing into a rhythmn as Hunter took the reins of pleasuring him. He nodded his head, not wanting to use his voice in that moment for fear of how pathetically weak and needy it might sound.

“Come on Greedy Boy,” Hunter teased him. “Let’s go take a shower together…”

“I can’t come next weekend,” Tommy grinned, addressing his coworkers six weeks later. “I’m away with my boyfriend.” 

As predicted, the whistles of delight sounded in the air as they all made a fuss at the news that their colleague was dating at last. Tommy wasted no time in sharing a picture of the two of them together, sitting in his parents’ lounge. 

“He’s hot!” blasted one of them straight away.

“He looks like he should be on a catwalk!” squeaked another.

Tommy smirked to himself. He loved the reactions he got to pictures of Hunter. Sure, people might have thought he was punching quite significantly above his weight, but he was still the one who got to be fucked by such a hunk, and not them. However, behind that handsome smile and perfect ‘boy next door’ act Hunter laid on astonishingly thick for all of Tommy’s family and friends, lay the kinkiest, most dominant lover he could have ever wished for. The things they got upto in the bedroom satisfied him completely. After years of dating boring guys, Hunter seemed to swoop in and make Tommy fall hopelessly in love with him in only a matter of days. Tommy was utterly devoted to him. And the best part was, Hunter knew it.

“You haven’t really told me much about these friends of yours we’re going to meet this weekend,” Tommy pondered, sitting in the passenger seat and noting how far out into the country they had gone on his online map.

“Well, why bother? You got along with all my other friends,” Hunter chuckled, obviously keeping something from Tommy about this trip.

Tommy sighed. “Yeah, but they were all co-workers and old school buddies. They don’t know… all the sides of your personality,” he replied diplomatically.

“Well, let’s just say, this weekend will be good for us,” Hunter smiled, leaning back and driving smoothly. “These guys are sexy as fuck, and we all like to play together. I’ve been excited to show you off to them since we first started going out. ”

“Show me off?” Tommy asked. “How so?”

“Just you wait and see,” Hunter laughed, adjusting the developing boner he was getting in his crotch. Something about this was exciting him very much. Then he reached his hand across to stroke Tommy’s thigh and brushed off some of the many wrappers from the drive-thru they had stopped at a good few miles back.

The location, when they finally arrived about two hours later, was nothing short of breathtaking. The house was set in the most charming of spots, overlooking the hills; with eight bedrooms, a pool, and the largest hot tub Tommy had ever seen. They entered, Hunter leading the way, only to see several shirtless men all standing around in the kitchen. They cheered when they saw Hunter and came over to greet him with a hug.

Tommy stood back awkwardly. He’d been so stupid in how he had imagined these men in his head. They were not at all as he had envisioned them; all of them round bellied and at varying levels of obesity; not the types of guys that someone in Hunter’s extreme, peak physical condition would have been expected to associate with. But, then again, Hunter had always said that he preferred fat guys.

“And this is my new boyfriend, Tommy,” Hunter finally stated, pulling Tommy forward to greet them all.

There was a look of surprise on all the guys’ faces. One of them furrowed their eyebrows, as if about to ask whether Hunter was being serious. Then, the first one stepped forward and shook his hand warmly; followed by the rest of them, one by one.

“That was a little weird,” Tommy whispered as the pair of them went up to the bedroom that had been assigned to them: thre master suite no less. “Did they not know that you’re dating?”

“No, they knew,” Hunter smirked, undressing himself and slipping on his tiny swim shorts to head out to the pool. “I date fat guys, remember. I’ve fucked and dominated every one of them in my time,” he continued, checking his perfect hair in the mirror. “So when I told them I was dating the fucking greediest, sexiest guy I’d ever met, they’d probably assumed you were a lot larger.”

“Wait. So do they know that you…” Tommy asked.

“These guys know everything. That’s why I was so excited for this weekend. We can just relax and be ourselves, without having to worry. I can cook mountains of food for you, just like normal, then bring you up here, tie you up and fuck you all night long,” he grinned, striding over to Tommy and kissing him. “Now, get changed,” he ordered, throwing some swim shorts at him.

“Looking good!” growled one of the men as Hunter led the way down the stairs. “I’ve never seen you looking so chiselled.”

Hunter stood and soaked in all of their comments, comically flexing and posing for them all. Then he smirked and tapped one of the guys on his gut. “I could say the same to you, buddy,” he nodded. “This overhang has really gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you.”

Tommy inhaled slightly with shock at Hunter’s rudeness. He looked for signs of offense, until he saw that the man instead looked mightily pleased with himself. “Paul has been feeding me a big tub of ice cream before bed every night,” he pointed over at another large bellied guy in the corner, who was obviously his partner. 

“Well, it’s really working,” Hunter smiled at him, giving him a deep, horny kiss. “I’m doing the same with this little guy,” he continued, pulling Tommy closer to him. “He was still living with his parents when I met him, but I’ve got him with me most of the time these days. That’s making things easier. Ice cream before bed is one of the things I started him on straight away,” he stated proudly.

The eyes of the men studied Tommy’s body in his swim shorts.

“I’m having to break down his incredibly fast metabolism. It’s not ideal. But if I turn him around, you can see,” Hunter explained, spinning a light and clueless Tommy around and bending him down so that his small butt faced the men instead. “There’s a little more softness forming around his lower back and…” he continued, dropping Tommy’s swim shorts slightly so that his butt cheeks showed, “...his glutes and thighs are filling up a lot more than when I first met him.”

Hunter tapped Tommy’s butt, creating a short ripple.

“Do you see it?” he asked them all.

With his head down, facing away from them, Tommy didn’t know if the guys had nodded in agreement. 

“Do you think he’s going to be quite bottom heavy then?” another of the men asked, clearly feeling that Tommy’s butt was wothy of discussion.

“Possibly,” Hunter agreed. “It’s a bit too early to tell. There aren’t many fatties in his family for me to get a good idea of how he might develop. That was one of the first things I checked. But he’s quit the gym to spend more time with me, so that should speed things up a little.”

Tommy felt his swim shorts getting pulled back up and a sweet kiss being placed on his forehead by his boyfriend. Then he was spun back to face the others, just as they all started chuckling with amusement to themselves, noticing the hardness that had developed in Tommy’s crotch during their conversation about him.

Hunter soon noticed as well and joined in the laughing, patting Tommy on his butt proudly. “He’s a kinky little fucker too!” he smirked, repositioning himself behind Tommy, rolling his big strong arms around the smaller guy’s shoulders and gently rubbing his crotch into his lover’s rear.

“I take it he’s a sub?” Paul asked from the corner.

“Of course,” Hunter shot back, gently nibbling Tommy’s ear. “One of the most obedient I’ve ever had,” he whispered. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you Tommy?” he teased, reaching one arm down to stroke the hardness in Tommy’s shorts, even with all the other guys there.

Tommy’s head flopped back against Hunter’s shoulder. In this situation, he felt so crazily out of control, yet it was arousing him in ways he could not explain.

“Anyway, come on, Piggy,” Hunter finally ordered, pulling his large hand out from Tommy’s crotch. “Let’s go try out the pool.” He tapped his lover on his butt, admiring the slight flutter that spread into the guy’s thighs. “But remember, not too much exercise for you. I don’t want you to spoil all the fast food calories I bought you earlier.”

Dinner was served a couple of hours later: a vast spread of multiple dishes, prepared by the varying couples in attendance. They sat in the shade, all of them in their swim shorts, and some of the men spilling out of the tight patio chairs that the rental property had for its guests.

“You finished already, Danny?” Hunter asked the significantly overweight man across the table. “Tommy will be nowhere near finished. He’s got at least another twenty minutes in him,” he boasted.

“It is extraordinary,” one of the others nodded in agreement, seeing how easily Tommy was packing it all in. “Is this how he usually is?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hunter nodded, reaching over and spooning on another large serving of cheesy pasta, as if he was psychically linked to his boyfriend and knew exactly what he wanted. “He can go like this for every meal: breakfast, lunch, dinner… He’s also a great little snacker as well. I need to eat frequently throughout the day to keep this physique up,” he explained, tensing his large biceps. “So it’s easy to get this one eating with me, and it still never spoils his appetite when dinner time rolls around.”

“How are his family feeling about him dating a feeder?” Danny asked, eyes still on Tommy as he continued to consume.

“It’s still early days,” Hunter replied. “He’s not really started to fatten up properly yet and take shape. Plus, they absolutely love me. I have his mom eating out of the palm of my hand! I’m sure the idea that I’m fattening their son won’t cross their minds for some time yet.”

“What’s his recovery time like?” Danny’s slightly slimmer husband asked next.

“Pretty good,” Hunter nodded again. “After he’s done here, I’ll take him upstairs, jack him off and then let him sleep for a couple of hours. Then he’ll be back up and ready for something else before bed,” he laughed, rubbing his boy’s back sweetly.

Tommy listened to it all as he continued to eat. Below the table, his hardness was weeping into his swim trunks. It wasn’t at all how he anticipated the life of a submissive, but it was still absolutely perfect, hearing Hunter boast about his control over him to all his friends.

“Are you struggling there, Fat Boy?” Hunter grinned as he watched the enormous Jack trying to repack his suitcase in the middle of the lounge that Sunday.

Tommy could tell that Jack was Hunter’s favourite of all the fat guys; most likely because was the softest of them all; partly due to his shorter height, making him rounder and more spherical than the others. Tommy had been with his boyfriend long enough to know when Hunter was getting horny and he sensed the spark of arousal within him each time Jack waddled on by, dressed only in his swim trunks all weekend.

Jack wiped his brow and nodded. “I’m not as sprightly as I used to be.”

Hunter chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Harry has done an awesome job on you. All that fresh fat in that big gut…” He growled in approval, admiring it all. His hardness was getting too much for him and he pulled Tommy gently down into his crotch to pleasure him whilst they spoke.

“I think you’ve got a good one there too,” Jack nodded over at Tommy, sucking away, as ordered.

Hunter sighed with pride and slapped Tommy on his butt, as he crouched across the sofa. “He will be. He just needs time to get into my ways.”

“He looks pretty obedient to me,” Jack chuckled.

“Oh, definitely! Like I said, he’s one of the best subs I’ve ever had. Decent blow job skills too,” he sighed, really starting to feel Tommy’s work now. “I just need to take down this metabolism of his.” He gazed down at the back of Tommy’s head bobbing up and down in his crotch. “I need every part of him to submit to me.”

Jack nodded knowingly, trotting over and rubbing Tommy’s butt as well. “Don’t worry, Hunter. I know you. You’ll have him under control very soon now...”

Over the next few weeks, Tommy felt a creeping tightness in his workpants. He stared in the mirror, hardly believing that the swollen glutes and thicker thighs were actually his. In his constantly bloated state, he hadn’t noticed the disappearance of his light six pack, as a thickening layer of fat began to spread itself around his waist. In fact, it was only as he jumped down from his office chair after finding something on the top shelf of a cupboard, that he noticed the first flutter of that fat, especially in his chest. But after that day, everything seemed to spiral.

“Hunter, I need you to come to my work,” Tommy whispered down the phone.

“Why?” Hunter asked, clearly in the middle of a training session with one of his clients at his gym.

“I bent down to pick up my pen and…”

“You ripped your pants,” Hunter finished for him. “About time. Did anyone see?”

“No,” Tommy replied with relief.

“That’s a shame,” Hunter sighed in disappointment. “And now you want me to drop everything and head over to deliver some larger pants for you?”

“Yes, please!” Tommy begged, knowing that his dominant boyfriend might actually get quite a kick out of leaving him in his ripped pants all day long.

A long, excruciating two hours later, Hunter arrived at the office. Many of the female employees rushed from their desks to greet him, and Hunter flirted sweetly with them, knowing exactly what sort of effect he had on them. It was strangely arousing to see him in action, pretending to take an interest in Melissa’s honeymoon or Fran’s new grandchildren; this charming character that he portrayed with ease.

“Well, I must go, ladies,” he smiled, walking towards Tommy’s office as some of them continued to bleat on. He closed the door behind him and comically put his body against it as if to stop anyone following him in. Then he locked it, just in case. “How do you put up with such boring people?” he sighed, looking straight at Tommy.

“They absolutely adore you,” Tommy reminded him.

“I know. But they’re still fucking boring,” Hunter smirked, checking the blinds were closed properly before striding over to his chubby lover who rose from his chair to greet him with an embrace.

Immediately, Hunter seized the opportunity in those moments of weakness; his strong hands sliding down to the tear in Tommy’s pants, mercilessly ripping them open further.

Tommy’s hands slipped back surveying the damage. Now, even his underwear had been compromised as he felt cool air against his increasingly fleshy glutes. “Please tell me you brought my new pants,” he blasted in panic.

“I did,” Hunter nodded, rifling through his backpack and showing them briefly. “But it’s going to cost you,” he sniggered, now pulling out his hardness from his shorts and nodding for Tommy to lie himself on the table.

“But I’m in work!” Tommy shot back.

“All the more reason for you to stop complaining and get a move on then,” the man laughed back, stroking his thick hardness to warm it up for Tommy’s softening butt.

Tommy lay himself down, realising that one of his most kinky work fantasies was about to come true, despite feeling no less worried that there would be a knock on his door at any moment. He spread his legs, making the tear even more pronounced, then heard the thud of a supermarket cheesecake being dropped by his head and then slid underneath his nose: Hunter’s latest fascination, watching him gorge on something extremely fattening whilst fucking him.

Both of them set to work, Hunter pounding him so forcefully that the cheesecake smeared itself over Tommy’s nose and under his chin as he tried to eat it at the same time. It was clear that he needed to eat fast, save getting it on his white shirt and ending up in exactly the same sartorial predicament again. His tongue came into play, scooping it all up and then pushing whatever didn’t need chewing straight down. Hunter didn’t take long to finish, but the sweat on his brow gave away just how much he had really gone for it. He threw Tommy a pack of cleaning wipes for his face and unfolded the new pants, presenting them like a prize to his lover.

A minute later, Hunter insisted on being walked out of the office; both of them stopped on the way multiple times.

“Yes, we’d love to come over for dinner sometime, Christine,” Hunter smiled politely, both he and Tommy knowing full well that it would never happen. Hunter wouldn’t waste his free time socialising with any of these people, unless there was something in it for him.

“Whart a nice boy he is!” Christine marvelled, standing at the main entrance of the office block, watching Hunter drive off. “So polite and gentle!”

Swishing his tongue around his mouth and still tasting nothing but cheesecake, Tommy nodded in agreement. “He’s the best.”

It felt very festive, turning up at the picturesque rental cottage covered in snow. Unlike last time, Tommy knew exactly what he would be walking into as Hunter’s friends arranged their next meet up. Being from up north, renting these houses was the best way for them to meet up with Hunter, who they all found just as fascinating and intoxicating as Tommy did. 

“Someone has been eating well!” the men chuckled, seeing Tommy for the first time in almost six months.

Tommy nodded, taking his big jacket off. In the last couple of months, his cheeks had blown up in a way that was not too dissimilar to a hamster stuffing itself with seeds. Fat had spread under his chin and into his neck, always visible now that Hunter insisted that he stayed clean shaven. Hunter kissed him proudly, always delighted whenever anyone mentioned his boyfriend’s gains.

“I’m guessing you defeated that fast metabolism of his?” Danny laughed, seeing more and more of Tommy’s shape as he removed the layers of winter clothing.

“Did you ever doubt me?” Hunter smirked back, grabbing both of their bags to take them upstairs; never wanting Tommy to burn any calories unnecessarily.

“What do you weigh now?” Paul jumped in after Tommy and Hunter came back downstairs after settling into their room.

Tommy looked to Hunter, knowing that he would want to be the one to tell them all.

“We’re up 70lbs since you last saw him,” Hunter beamed, draping his big arm over Tommy’s shoulders. “I bet you can hardly recognise him with these chubby cheeks, huh boys?”

“I suppose the sweatpants come in handy these days?” Eddie asked, nodding at Tommy’s casual attire as he stood beside his muscular boyfriend.

“Um, I guess so,” Hunter pondered. “To be honest, I don’t let him wear clothes when he’s at home. Do I?” he asked Tommy in an attempt to include him, even a little, in this discussion about him.

Tommy shook his head.

“As you can probably see, his tits are starting to come in real nicely,” Hunter continued, lifting Tommy’s shirt for the boys to see. “Lovehandles are fully in shape now, and the back fat,” he rambled on, spinning Tommy around for their viewing pleasure. “I’ve had to rescue him twice in work now after he’s split his pants,” he laughed, rolling the sweatpants down so that the guys could see the transformation that had taken place in Tommy’s glutes. “And, best of all…” he went on, rapidly spinning Tommy like a ragdoll again to face them once more, “Check this out…”

The boys marvelled in unison as Hunter grabbed a thick wedge of fat that had amassed at the top of Tommy’s groin. 

“It’s hard to believe how much fat there is here, considering he’s only 220lbs at the moment,” Hunter grinned. “It’s incredible!”

“Well, we can help add to that this weekend,” Danny smiled. “It’s your first holiday season as a fatty,” he nodded at Tommy. “That’s got to be quite exciting?”

“It’s also our first one together,” Tommy replied, falling back into Hunter’s large chest.

“What are you guys doing for the big day?” Eddie asked next.

“Well, we told Tommy’s parents that we were going to my family. And then we said the exact opposite to my parents. So, basically…” Hunter smirked, pulling his lover into a cute sideways cuddle, “...this little piggy is going to be spending the day sitting on my cock whilst I feed him absolutely everything I’ve been preparing for him for the last month.”

The guys all looked at each other, clearly astounded and secretly aroused by the idea.

“Have you had much backlash from Tommy’s family now he’s getting so overweight?” Danny questioned them later, sitting at the table, waiting for Tommy to finish his meal.

“Not so much,” Hunter replied. “Now his face has started to balloon, people are certainly a lot more aware of it. But his parents aren’t as switched on as mine. My dad pulled me to the side a couple of weeks ago and told me to start going easy on Tommy.” He straightened up, about to do an impression of his father and put on a dull, stuck-up voice. “Your mother and I know exactly what you’re doing,” he began at a fast pace, poking his finger out like a school teacher. “You’ve always been forceful about getting your own way; always the bully we used to get complaints about when you were in high school. But Tommy is a nice boy; the nicest you’ve ever brought home, and you’ve got to start getting your kicks some other way. One that doesn’t involve him getting so out of shape!”

The men all laughed in unison.

“I just tell them I’m going to set up a diet plan for Tommy in the New Year,” he chuckled; setting the rest of them off. 

“Well, I can imagine exactly what sort of ‘diet plan’ you’ll have for him,” Danny smirked, knowing his friend all too well.

Hunter nodded and laughed along with them. “Yeah, this fat boy is so fucking screwed!”

Their conversation rolled on. All the while, Tommy continued to eat.

“Good boy!” Hunter sang moments later as Tommy finally put his knife and fork down; his plate cleared. “Was that tasty? That lamb dish is one of Eddie’s most fattening recipes. I should know. I taught him how to make it.”

Tommy nodded his head; utterly stuffed.

“Do you want me to take you upstairs for your pleasure time?” he asked the blubbery boy. “It’s part of his routine,” he explained to the guys. “Or would you rather have it here, so that the other fat boys can see you?”

Tommy looked around at the faces staring at him. All of the men were shirtless and some of them, like him, had come to the table wearing nothing at all. His initial thought was to go back upstairs. However, that seemed like such an effort in his stuffed state. He looked over at a cosy chair by the fireplace and nodded; “Over there.”

Initially, the other kinky guys had pretended to busy themselves whilst Hunter took Tommy over to the chair and began to rub his hardness up and down. However, their curiosity and arousal was soon gettng the better of them, one-by-one, coming to sit on the other chairs or stand nearby watching Hunter controlling his sub.

“Are you a good piggy for me?” Hunter whispered into his ear, making Tommy moan and nod. “You’ve put on so much fat for me this year. Did you see how shocked the guys were earlier? They’re all looking at you now.”

Tommy opened his eyes and looked around. What would he have said a year ago, had he imagined a scenario that was anything like this?

A curious and horny Eddie licked his thumb and began rubbing it over Tommy’s pointed nipple.

Hunter looked across with approval. “Piggy loves that now his tits have come in. He can’t get over how sensitive they are.

Danny licked his thumb and began playing with the other nipple, before Paul came along and grabbed a wedge of Tommy’s stomach fat, as if hardly believing how quickly it had developed.

“You see, you’re the star of the show, Piggy!” Hunter whispered into his lover’s ear.

Tommy’s breathing became a lot heavier as he felt his climax building.

“It’s alright, Piggy,” Hunter continued. “Don’t hold back. You can show them what I taught you to do when you climax.”

Tommy looked into Hunter’s eyes. Was it really okay to let himself go like this? But the orgasm was coming so fast and the urge to do it was becoming too much for him to resist. He gasped, letting go of his inhibition, then snorted, loud and clear, just like a pig, mimicking the tones that Hunter had taught him exactly. Jets flowed across the coffee table in the middle of the room and Tommy shut his eyes, calm at last..

As the New Year came and went, Tommy realised that his weight had spiked at an alarmingly fast rate over the holidays. Hunter had declared, looking at the vast new size of Tommy’s glutes, that it had been the best gift he had ever received. The gains did eventually slow down, but never stagnated. And so, by their first anniversary of getting together, Tommy stood next to his gorgeous boyfriend with over one hundred and ten pounds of added fat on him.

Hunter was more pleased with his own body than ever before as well. He’d spent the last few months bulking his shoulders and glutes, so that even he was outgrowing his clothes. Seeing Tommy swell so fast had given him the motivation he needed to make a real push with his weight training, and he spent much of that summer without a shirt on, both inside and outside of the apartment. He’d inherited a decent amount of money from a great uncle he had never even met, spending most of it on a new convertible and a designer watch that helped to inflate his ego even further. Their kitchen had been the epicentre of it all, with Hunter cooking himself up vast amounts of high protein meals, whilst simultaneously pouring in the butter, oils and grease into everything he made for Tommy.

Hunter’s bulking had also created the perfect excuse for Tommy’s ever swelling stomach. Hunter made no secret of how much he had to consume in order to keep up the strapping muscle on his body. “Most evenings, I’m cooking up food and portioning it out for myself for the next day,” he explained to Tommy’s aunt during their next visit. “But I think the smell of it makes Tommy hungry, and when I go to bed, I hear him rummaging around in the kitchen for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy!” his aunt tutted with disappointment. “No wonder you’ve gained so much weight then. You need to exercise some self control.”

Hunter nodded in agreement, rubbing Tommy’s back supportively; as if this was all one great big intervention, aimed at helping him. The lies just rolled off the hunk’s tongue with such ease and he’d soon be laughing in the car at how easily they all swallowed them. “Come on, Fatty,” he whispered whilst still smiling and waving at Tommy’s extended family as they reversed off the driveway. “Look at their faces,” he laughed. “They really think you’re going to turn things around this time.”

“My aunt spoke to me a minute ago, before we left,” Tommy explained from the passenger seat. “She told me that you’re the fitness expert and that I just need to do whatever you say.”

Hunter laughed victoriously. “Good old Auntie Paula!” he roared, waving one final time to her in particular. “In that case, your fitness expert is taking you home to sit my dick while I feed you your disgustingly oversized dinner. I heard that chair squeaking when you sat on it earlier. Next time we go to see them, I’m going to make sure your fat ass destroys it!”

The summer was coming to an end, but not before the pair of them drove up in Hunter’s new car to yet another rental place for a weekend with the boys.

“I’ve got a surprise for everyone later,” Hunter joked, shirtless and with a strong arm draped over his flabby, newly 300lb boyfriend.”

“Another one?” the boys joked, having just spoken at length about their shock at seeing the swell of Tommy’s chest and underarm fat in particular.

Hunter kept them all waiting keenly. They ate their dinner, recharged and then settled down to some beers in the large lounge. “Want to see something super cute?” he finally asked them, grinning with excitement.

“Is this our surprise?” Jack immediately replied, ready to be entertained.

Hunter nodded. “Look at these!” he cooed, suddenly holding up a tiny pair of underwear he’d been hiding behind a cushion.

The boys laughed. “Awh!” they all sang back. In their world, no one wore underwear that small; even Hunter with his giant glutes and muscular thighs needed a large, or even an extra-large in many cases.

“These belonged to Tommy when he came over to my apartment for the first time,” Hunter laughed wickedly, spinning them around and holding them by the very ends of his fingertips as if to further emphasise how petite they were. “I’ve not even washed them since.”

At this, all the guys began laughing in much the same way. They passed them around, each of them marvelling at their tiny size.

“Your butt used to be so small!” Paul bellowed, draping the underwear over his large gut to show how minute they were in comparison.

Tommy stared at them, suddenly remembering how Hunter had walked off with his underwear on that first date at their now shared apartment. His perspective really had been skewed, hardly believing now that he ever wore clothes that small.

“That was only seventeen months ago, boys!” Hunter shouted, raising his arms up in the air for the admiration he was owed. “That’s how it’s done, my friends! That’s how a real feeder takes control and fattens his piggy!”

The boys all cheered in complete agreement. The transformation, the sheer speed of it all; it was breathtaking.

“He’d never get them on these days,” Eddie laughed. “Not with the amount of fat he carries on his thighs, and that huge butt of his.”

Hunter pretended to ponder the idea; theatrically raising his thumb to his chin and rubbing. “Hmm, do you really think so?” he asked, barely holding back his laughter. “I think we may need to test that hypothesis, don’t you, boys?” he called out, rousing the crowd of fat men into a chorus of cheers. 

Within seconds, Hunter had stood up and moved clear so that the other men could move in and do his bidding. Tommy was being lifed and forced out of his current underwear, feeling delighted pats of approval from some of the guys as his big, fat, doughy glutes came on show. The coffee table had been removed from the room, the music turned way down, and he was pushed into the middle of a now cleared space, with all the large, occupied chairs and sofas imprisoning it. 

Suddenly, the mood changed. Unlike the others, Hunter was standing, blocking the only path out of the room; his giant arms folded intimidatingly across his immensely powerful, shirtless chest; an inpenetrable wall; a ringleader, ready to entertain.

Even before he started, Tommy could hear little hoots of laughter all around him. He looked up at Hunter’s stern expression and his hardness throbbed uncontrollably.

“As you all remember,” Hunter began, “a short while ago, I started dating a very handsome, a very athletic, and in fact, a very pretty-looking guy…” 

His tone was so playful and full of mockery; making the other guys laugh; every single one of them. Then he reached out and took the tiny underwear from the person who had them. Although only a few feet away from him, Tommy looked up at his lover as if the giant man was standing high upon a towering pedestal. The way those cold eyes stared down at him aroused him more than anything else.

“The pride and joy of his parents…” Hunter sang, holding Tommy’s old underwear for them all to see again, “...college graduate, all round nice guy. He told me that he wanted to meet me. Practically begged me!”

Again, the other guys all laughed at that. Tommy’s first foolish mistake.

“He told me that I was the sexiest guy he had ever seen in his life,” Hunter smirked, emphasising the language and slipping a finger up into the crotch of the old unerwear, showing where Tommy’s little erection would have once pushed against them. That got him one of the biggest laughs. “And he promised me one thing…” Hunter went on. “...That he would do absolutely anything that I wanted him to.”

The guys all turned from looking at Hunter, to gazing with awe at Tommy’s fattened body: the rolls and blubber, stretch marks and sag. His complete submission was right there, before their very eyes. Hunter’s will, made flesh.

“What you’re about to see, boys, is my now disgustingly gluttonous, obese boyfriend, trying to put on a pair of underwear that he last wore the second time he met me,” Hunter declared, throwing the tiny material down at Tommy’s feet, filling his large chest with air and folding those enormous arms once more. 

Again, the fat men all laughed to themselves, some reaching in again to poke Tommy’s fleshy stomach, or tap his naked, under-exercised butt.

“Taking them off was one of his first acts of submission to me. And now,” Hunter continued, “this greedy, fat hog is about to try and put them back on for us.” He stared hard at Tommy, making him hornier still.

Tommy nodded slowly, hardly believing that this was all happening so fast. Two minutes ago, he had been snuggled into Hunter on the couch, oblivious that any of this was coming.

“Are you ready, boys?” Hunter roared at them all; rousing another cheer of excitement. He was made for this. Showmanship was in his blood. “Count the fat fucker into it for me…” he shouted at an alarming volume.

Tommy glanced at the ridiculously small underwear; his heart beating at quite the pace. He could feel the huge ring of fat under his chin as he looked down and tried to envision how best to do it.

“Three…two… ONE!” the boys all sang with the boisterous Hunter; lifting their bottles of beer up high; eyes wide and excited to see how this would all go down.

With a slight grunt from all that he had eaten earlier, Tommy bent down to pick up the underwear. There were cheers of amusement as his butt crack opened to those standing behind him. Then, turning the underwear in his hands, he lifted one leg to begin to put them on. He stumbled, feeling the fat in his butt and love handles quiver with the force he had to throw his foot down, just to keep his balance.

“Take your time, Piggy. Get it right,” Hunter reminded him in his stern tone. This show was important. These were his friends, and he had brought Tommy here to entertain them.

Tommy nodded. He started again, slipping one foot into the tiny hole and raised the material to his ankles. Now came the trickier part. He grunted, raising his other leg and miraculously slipped that inside as well. The big moment had arrived. 

Grabbing onto the tiny waistband, Tommy sucked in his stomach and heaved them up. They began soaring up his legs and then slowed dramatically. just above his knees. They were so narrow, he felt like he needed to spread his legs more to get them up; but there was no room. He pulled at them again, hearing howls of laughter all around him. The effort was almost unbelievable, and yet the underwear raised barely more than a couple of inches. Never mind his giant butt, it was his blubbery thighs that were the problem. 

On he struggled, feeling the waistband at last touching the lower part of his doughy rear. He lifted the front part easier, just managing to squish a little of his excited erection inside and then he looked up at Hunter. Had he done enough?

Hunter simply raised an eyebrow and smirked, the guys’ laughter suddenly becoming too infectious for even him to ignore. His smile spread and he laughed too, throwing his arms out and then pumping his muscular chest. Some of the men reached their congratulatory hands out to the feeder for him to shake as he walked around the space where Tommy stood. His victory lap.

“Thank you. You’re right,” he replied to their comments. “Twenty five years old, and look at it now!”

Finally, he came to stand in front of Tommy again, suddenly becoming falsely affectionate and stroking his submissive’s large, chubby cheek. “I’m so glad I met you,” he told Tommy, speaking as much to the other men who were listening in.

“I’m glad I met you too,” Tommy replied, full of love and arousal for his dominant lover.

The men all laughed at Tommy’s words and Hunter looked around at them with devilment dancing in his eyes. His perfect white teeth glistened as the widest smile grew on his face. He knew exactly what they were all thinking. Obesity was beginning to take a vice-like grip on Tommy’s body, and yet the twenty-five year old was still hopelessly under the spell of his wicked boyfriend.

“Good. I’m very glad,” Hunter nodded, lovingly tucking Tommy’s overgrown, sweaty hair behind his ears. He could never resist stroking the extensive chin fat with the back of his finger at the same time; the broad, fat face, freshly shaven as Hunter always insisted upon. “You realise that you’re going to be fatter than everybody here soon, don’t you?” he continued, explaining it to the fat boy like it was an exciting adventure they were embarking upon.

Tommy nodded.

“And that’s okay is it, Piggy?” Hunter asked, playing up to the crowds.

“Yes,” Tommy nodded again. Compliance was so easy.; submission so arousing. And this situation he was in now, so exhilarating and undenyably thrilling. Everything he never knew he needed.

Delving further into the three hundred pound zone was every bit as strange and transformative as the guys had warned Tommy as he left that weekend. Everything jiggled. Everything made him sweat. He had to accept how severely overweight he was now. It was the first thing people noticed when they met him and it was the one factor that influenced how people treated him most. He noted their tones of disapproval and impatience; their blunt answers to his questions and their indignation whenever they saw the gorgeous Hunter kissing him. He stared at pictures of the two of them at his sister’s wedding: his large, bulbous, doughy belly spreading out of his jacket and barely contained within his enormous shirt. He looked at the beautiful Hunter standing behind him, grinning proudly; no one there realising that he was laughing at them all, showing off what he had done to one of their own.

“I think it’s time you considered a new job. One where you can work from home,” Hunter declared, getting up after having fucked one of his new favourite places on his lover’s evolving body: the fat roll encompassing Tommy’s deep belly button.

Tommy nodded. “That would certainly save me a lot of time,” he agreed.

“It would also save you a lot of calories,” Hunter sighed impatiently. “I get so frustrated thinking of you burning off all my delicious breakfasts, trotting that giant ass of your back and forth to the photocopier.”

“But the girls in my office would miss seeing you though,” Tommy joked.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Another good reason to quit,” he grumbled, chugging down one of his protein shakes and drying off his sweaty body with the towel they left under the bed.

“They actually asked me to apply for a job at another one of our branches the other day,” Tommy considered, remembering how little he had considered it at the time. “Two days in the office, three at home.”

“Where?” Hunter asked with surprising interest.

“North. We’d have to move. At least we’d be closer to Paul, Eddie, and the other guys. But then, it means uprooting your life as well.”

Hunter furrowed his eyebrows in disagreement. “Look at me!” he cried. “I could get a job at any fitness place I wanted. A move away is exactly the sort of thing that we need.”

“It is?” Tommy asked, having never heard Hunter even consider the idea of moving before.

Hunter came over to Tommy, who was still sticky and sprawled out on the bed. The guy’s immense, muscular body made the bed sink slightly as Hunter sat next to him, making the fat in Tommy’s tummy jiggle and lean towards the powerful lover, as if attracted by him. “Listen. You’re now a very fat man. By this time next week, I’ll have you at over 350lbs,” Hunter explained. “But people around here don't see that. All they see is that skinny little dweeb they used to know. That handsome guy with a six pack and no ass, who couldn’t admit that being dominated would make him so fucking horny.”

Tommy chuckled. Hunter’s descriptions were blunt, but always very accurate.

“It’s time we went somewhere new. Where people don’t know about how slim you used to be. Where they will see you the way that I do: just another fat, disgustingly overfed piggy.”

Tommy exhaled deeply, feeling himself getting aroused hearing Hunter using so many of the trigger words that he usually deployed when he was getting pleasured. He nodded. Perhaps Hunter was right. Maybe it was time for a change.

“You make sure that you look after him, won’t you?” Tommy’s mother sobbed, speaking to Hunter as the pair of them stopped to pick up the last of their things and load them into the truck.

“Don’t worry, Angela. He’s in good hands with me,” Hunter smiled back. Now that Tommy had grown wide enough, the big muscular man could rub his boyfriend’s disgustingly overgrown glutes the entire time he spoke to the guy’s mother, without anyone even noticing. “Your boy will be well taken care of.”

They all hugged, with Tommy’s parents telling him how proud they were about his big promotion, as well as how much they would miss him.

“Do you think they know? Even on some level?” Hunter asked as the pair of them got back into the truck. “They have to, surely? No one is that fucking stupid, watching their son get into a relationship and suddenly gaining over two hundred pounds in just over two years!” he sniggered, surprised that no one had mentioned Tommy’s weight today; even with the daringly tight t-shirt he had made him wear.

“Perhaps, on some level,” Tommy considered. At barely average height, his 370lbs was sitting more and more on his stomach these days.  Only a few moments ago, Hunter had needed to push against his wide, overgrown butt, in full view of his parents, in order to get him back into the high removal truck they had hired for the journey. “But, if I’m honest, I don’t think they really know what’s going on.”

“So fucking stupid! It’s unbelieveable!” Hunter sighed, turning the volume way up on the stereo and pulling off his shirt as the air conditioning blasted into life. As much as he enjoyed playing the innocent boyfriend, Hunter also longed for recognition, in whatever form it came.

“Goodbye,” Tommy waved to his parents as they started pulling away. He knew they couldn’t hear him. The music was far too loud.

“Goodbye,” Hunter joined in bitterly as he started to steer. “I’ll look after your son. I’m turning him into a big fat pig, y’know!” he shouted loud and clear, although he would never be heard. “I’ll have the fat fucker at 400lbs by the time you see him this Christmas! Goodbye, idiots!”

Hunter laughed with delight at himself as they rolled down the street. He slipped on his sunglasses and opened his window, just a crack, to let in a bit of fresh air.

“Still think this is the right thing?” Hunter asked moments later, reaching for Tommy’s chubby little fingers and holding them sweetly. His question was so ambiguous, with so many different possible meanings, and an infinite amount of responses. Not that any of that mattered to Tommy. For him, there was only one possible answer to any of those questions.

“Yes,” he smiled with certainty. “Two hundred percent, yes!”

#gainer fiction #gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gayfeedee #gainer stories #gainerfic #gainer fic

[originalfatfiction]

Project AX3

Tap. Tap. Tap. I was utterly dazed and in a state of total confusion. Someone was at my door, and they were knocking in a very precise nature. It was a constant string of taps with hardly any pause between them. I figured whoever it was would go away after realizing I wasn’t going to answer, but the knocks were persisting, the tone not even increasing in volume. There was no urgency, so I moved slowly, not completely awake. I have to get up, I thought. I reached for my glasses, putting them on my face sleepily. I looked over at my digital clock, noting that it was nearly three. Who in the hell would be at my door at three in the morning? I was suddenly much more alert, kicking off my comforter. I stood up, pulled on a pair of shorts, and ran to answer the door.  

“I’m coming!” I called, my mind waking more and more by the second. At the sound of my voice the knocking stopped. They hadn’t been knocking as though they were in distress. It could be the building manager, but in my two years of living here, Bonnie had never knocked this late. Someone could be messing with me, or it could be a potential intruder. I was making myself panic like I always did. Chill out, I thought. It is probably a simple reason why they’re knocking.  

Cautiously, I looked through the peephole to get a look at the culprit. There was nobody there. I paused for a moment, almost certain what awaited me on the other side would bring my demise. I opened the door, and I quickly looked both ways down the hallway of my apartment complex. Maybe it was some practical joker. I didn’t think there’d be anyone living in this building with the sense of humor of a ten-year-old.  

Looking down, I found a note with a key taped to the back. It read, in small, neat writing: 

Hello Mr. Kirby,  

This is from your neighbor Jomei Tanaka. I live in 707 and I was hoping you would look after my apartment while I am away. Please keep an eye on things, for it is uncertain when—and if—I shall return.  

He hadn’t signed his name, just having written the word goodbye. 

Why would he just up and leave? Why would he ask me of all people to look after his place? I took the note into my apartment and sat it on the end table by the front door. It gave me a bad feeling, definitely. The nature of the note felt so final, I worried he’d done something reckless. I hoped he would be all right. 

I didn’t even know what Mr. Tanaka looked like. I had never seen him. I was pretty sure he even got his groceries delivered. Could I go to the police with just a hunch? Did I need more vital information? I did not want to go rummaging around his apartment this late and get the cops called on me. After about thirty minutes of internal debate, I was starting to get groggy. I would check things out in the morning. 

A few hours later I dressed quickly for class, making sure to leave enough time to check out Mr. Tanaka’s apartment. I was feeling guilty about not going to the cops when I first received the note. Mr. Tanaka could be dead in his apartment, and I could’ve made sure he survived. I was once again thinking the worst. 

I ate a bagel with cream cheese as I packed my bag for the day. Moving from the kitchen to the living room I grabbed my computer from on top of the coffee table, as well as a few textbooks. I had a pack of gum, a couple mechanical pencils, and some other miscellaneous items in the various pockets. Once I finished my breakfast, and was certain I had everything I needed, I headed over to Mr. Tanaka’s. I wondered what he even needed me to look after. His plants? His pet snake? I took in the brass numerals on his door: 707. Unlocking the door caused his alarm system to chime. I worried he might have had it set, but after a few moments of silence I assumed I’d be okay to continue my survey of the scene. I adjusted my glasses and looked around before entering further.  

Mr. Tanaka sure left in a rush, or the place had been robbed before I showed up. I stepped over a shattered mug, making my way towards the sofa to set down my bag. His apartment was the deluxe. One of the seven apartments on each floor was a deluxe model. That meant there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living room. My place was miniscule in comparison, being a one bedroom, one bathroom. What did one man need so much space for? He was probably some sort of swinger. I could imagine wild sex parties taking place in each of the various bedrooms. Maybe he’d fallen for someone just this morning and they had to elope in Vegas. Love was just that powerful! I laughed out loud at the idea of it all. That was far-fetched, even for my imagination. My theorizing was cut short by the sound of a ringing telephone. 

It continued to ring as I looked around, frantically searching for its location. It was going to be an ordeal attempting to locate it in Tanaka’s tornado zone of an apartment. I had given myself plenty of time to handle this, but I started to fear it was going to make me late for class. I was a junior at the university not too far from here, studying English.  

“Hello,” I said reservedly. There was no response. I’d found the phone in one of the bedrooms, which was a total mess—the bedspread on the floor, clothes all over the mattress. “Hello?” I called again. I had picked up the phone just as it stopped ringing so maybe I had missed the caller.  

“Hello, this is Doe speaking.” Her voice sounded like one of those recordings they used for voicemails. “Jomei Tanaka, state your authorization number.”  

“Uh, hello, Doe,” I said. “Mr. Tanaka isn’t home, and I don’t know when he’ll be back. Can I take a message?” 

“No, that will not be necessary. Project will be terminated.” 

“Project?” What was she talking about? I wanted to question her, but it was really none of my business. “Doe?” 

“Goodbye.” The line went dead. I set the phone down, still trying to figure out what she was talking about. I exited the bedroom, ready to get my bag and—oh my God. There was a guy, a naked guy, shoving all of my gum into his mouth. 

I froze. I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know if I should approach the mentally deranged guy chewing on a twenty-five-piece wad of peach bubble gum or if I should just snatch my bag and get the fuck away from him.  

“So sweet,” he said. His voice sounded kind of like slurps, because of all the gum, but underneath that was a deep, raspy tone. I looked at him more closely, and he appeared well-groomed. He wasn’t bad looking either, actually really handsome. He was tall, somewhat lean, but incredibly muscular, and barely had any body hair. That is to say he had eyebrows and thick black hair on his head and around his penis, but he wasn’t a Sasquatch. “More?” 

“Uh, I’m going to take my bag,” I said gently, in case he really was crazy. He grabbed the bag and held it in his arms. If it weren’t for my computer and textbooks, I would have left empty handed. “That—that’s mine.” 

“Your bag,” he said. His whole Tarzan routine was concerning. “Your bag! Your bag has chewy stuff inside!” 

“Gum?” 

“Your bag has gum! I want more gum!” I had just noticed he wasn’t chewing the gum anymore. He had swallowed it, paper and all. He walked close to me, and I got a little nervous. I took a step back, but he kept coming. He extended his arms, holding the strap of my messenger bag. I couldn’t move back any further, my back against a wall. He’d cornered me, though he didn’t seem aggressive. He put my bag on me, his penis brushing against my hip. 

“Uh, thank you,” I said, my face hot from discomfort. He didn’t seem to mind being naked. Where did he come from? I had locked the door behind me when I came in; he couldn’t have gotten in that way. He must’ve already been here. Was Mr. Tanaka actually into some sort of weird sex stuff? That’d be outrageous. “What’s your name?” I asked. 

“My name is AX3,” he said. That was not a name, at least not in the traditional sense. “That’s what Jomei called me.” He was still in my personal bubble. 

“Why did he, uh, leave?” I asked cautiously. My hand found its way to his stomach, which felt as if it had been sculpted from marble. I pushed him back gently, for the sake of my nerves. My brain was trying its hardest to make sense of this. Maybe this guy had done something to Mr. Tanaka. The note could have been a means to throw the authorities off, an absolute forgery. It sure looked like there’d been a struggle in this apartment. 

“He left because of me, because I was violent—because I was imperfect.” Once again, I was dumbfounded. Was this his way of admitting to harming Mr. Tanaka? I stood silent, terrified of what this giant could do to me. I glanced towards the front door, determined to escape no matter what. “What’s your name?” he asked me audaciously, even though I would have been majorly embarrassed if I was standing in front of some stranger in my birthday suit. His question didn’t deter me from focusing on my escape route.   

“Casey,” I said, glancing at him and then back to the door. He repeated it back to me, looking me up and down. 

“I like you Casey. You look nice.” What did he mean? Nice, like a good person? That I was attractive? Or nice, like the perfect next victim? I walked gingerly towards the door.  

“Uh, well I have to get going. See you later, AX3.” I was going to leave the key here because I sure wasn’t coming back. I’d tell the police everything I found, all my suspicions, and be finished with the whole situation. That was my plan. I hadn’t signed up for this. I could handle houseplants and pet snakes, but this was not something I was qualified for. 

“I don’t want to be alone,” he shouted, walking towards me. He grabbed my arm, pulling me into his naked body. I felt his stone body against my own, noting that he was very warm. “Don’t leave! Casey don’t leave!” He was strong, incredibly strong. I was pulling away, but he was grabbing me harder, his penis touching me more and more, pressing against my stomach. It was like he didn’t even notice. Was he getting hard? No, it had to have been my imagination.  

“You’re hurting me,” I said, a little alarmed. He let go of me immediately. I looked up at him, and he frowned heavily, like a sad puppy dog. It was actually pretty cute.   

“I—I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said. “I am sorry.” When Mr. Tanaka’s note asked me to take care of things, did he actually mean him? Like seriously. Did Tanaka think this was an okay thing to ask a distant neighbor to do? 

“It’s all right. I forgive you.” He smiled, revealing a set of perfect, white teeth. “I wish you came with instructions,” I mumbled. He smiled even wider and hurried off into one of the bedrooms. I got to take a look at his perfect, round butt. He sped back into the room and handed me a pamphlet. It was his—care instructions? 

I doubted I was going to make it to my classes today. Why would Mr. Tanaka leave someone alone who didn’t seem capable of taking care of himself? I was going to get this guy some help and then email my professors about my wild morning. I was sure they’d understand my absence. This was not normal. The telephone rang again. 

I retreated back to where I’d left the phone, answering it quickly. “Hello?” No response. I swallowed, my throat dry. I didn’t like feeling like I was in danger. “Doe?” 

“You should evacuate the premises. Leave everything as you found it. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and looked at AX3, who had followed me into the bedroom. He stood perfectly still. I could hear a faint hissing sound. 

“Uh, AX3—?” He looked at me, and then I started to feel slightly dizzy. He strode over to me quickly and picked me up. “What—what are you doing—?” My words trailed off. AX3 cradled me in arms, walking quickly towards the front door. He opened it forcefully, breaking the lock in the process. He pulled the door closed before he walked all the way down the hall towards the stairwell. He sniffed my hair as he held me in his arms. I kind of liked him, even if he was nuts. I was still kind of dizzy. “Your hair, it smells like—like sweet!” He was so ditzy, though it was kind of charming. He was probably talking about my hair oil. It was coconut scented. He was still holding me, and though I wasn’t heavy, I didn’t think he would be able to carry me for so long. 

“Could you set me down?” I asked. He complied. I stumbled slightly, and he supported me, making sure I had my balance. I wasn’t too sure, but I had a feeling that Doe had something to do with what happened in there. Was she trying to kill AX3? He’d made sure I made it out of there okay and now I had to make sure he was taken care of. I’d help him get into contact with his family, his girlfriend—anybody who could make sure he’d be safe. “Follow me.” We walked back down the hall to my door. I fished around for my key in the pocket of my jeans. I unlocked the door, but not before Mrs. Horowitz saw me with a naked man pressing his flaccid dick into my back. All because he seemed to lack the basic instinct of personal space. 

We stumbled in and he followed me into my bedroom. He was like a little duck, well—a big duck. I pulled out a pair of briefs and handed them to him. He put them on, and they rode up his ass. I couldn’t believe I was getting an erection with all that had happened today. He didn’t even try to pull them out from between his beefy cheeks. It couldn’t be helped; they were really small on his large body. 

I handed him a t-shirt and that was too small as well. The sleeves hugged his biceps and if he moved his arms the shirt rode up on his flat stomach. I walked up to him, pulling at the hem of the shirt, trying to make it cover more of his muscled stomach. I laughed when it wouldn’t stay put. He lifted his arms and once again I tried to pull the shirt down.  He gave a husky laugh, smiling at me widely, like it was a game. I was forced to accept I’d just have to look at him semi-nude. 

My clothes just weren’t going to fit him. I wasn’t even at his shoulder, meaning he most likely weighed way more than I did too. I couldn’t see him weighing anything close to 145 pounds. I figured he had some clothes back at Tanaka’s, but with what happened earlier I didn’t think it would be a good idea to return there. He’d just have to make do with my too-tight underclothes for now. 

I had set the pamphlet he gave me down when I first entered the apartment and went to retrieve it. He followed, of course. I stood by the end table next to my front door and he stood behind me. I could hear him breathing behind me as I read the three lines of text. They were labeled as Vital Information. 

1. Do not leave AX3 alone for more than 48 hours. 

2. Do not allow AX3 to consume more than 500 calories per day. 

3. Do not anger AX3; he has the ability to kill. 

That was not very helpful. Hell, that gum he swallowed was most likely over 500 calories. I looked on the back of the pamphlet. It was just a diagram of AX3. He was 6’5” and 230 pounds. I sighed and turned around. There he was, smiling at me dimly. 

“Who are you?” I mumbled softly. He blinked at me, looking at me with a confused stare. AX3’s eyes were a very pure, bright blue-grey color that seemed almost electric. God they were pretty eyes.  

I had monolid eyes, the irises brown in color, inherited from my paternal grandmother who was Korean. The rest of my ancestry was African. In high school, my best friend dubbed me the “Miniature Tyson Beckford.” My freshman year of college I dyed my hair blond, and I was currently in my blue period, with a bold cerulean fade. 

“I am AX3.” He smiled again. “You are Casey.” 

“I know who you are. I was just thinking out loud.” I didn’t know what to do with him. Should I report him to the police? Should I just let him stay here? “Do you have a way I can contact your family? Your mom or your dad?” 

“I only have Jomei,” he said. It nearly broke my heart. I needed to figure something out, because unless I could find Jomei Tanaka it appeared AX3 would be a stray. “Do you know where Mr. Tanaka went?” I asked. 

“Away,” he said. 

“Yes, but where?” He shook his head no. Whatever the relationship he and Tanaka had, it seemed to be a rocky one. I hated to keep bringing him up to AX3, but he was the only lead I had. “Did he say when he was coming back?” 

“He’s not coming back, because he doesn’t want me anymore. Because I was imperfect. I failed too many times.” 

“What did you fail?” I asked, trying to figure out who AX3 really was—and I was getting tired of calling him AX3. 

“The inspections, the tests. He said I was broken. He said they would kill him if I didn’t pass the tests. I didn’t like those tests.” He looked angry, and it was an emotion that didn’t suit him. He had such a happy-go-lucky attitude that this was almost like a different person. Looking at me, he panted ferociously. I stepped back, unsure of what he would do.  He started punching the wall, over and over again. In a matter of moments, he’d punched three holes in my wall. I could kiss that safety deposit goodbye. I didn’t want to yell at him to stop, afraid that would just make him even more upset. “They hurt! The tests hurt!” 

“How—how about a cookie?” I asked, my voice shaky, uncertain if this would calm him down. He stopped, looking confused for a moment, then smiled at me. “C’mon.” He followed me into the kitchen, and I took out my cookie jar. They were oatmeal chocolate chip. I handed him one and he put the whole thing in his mouth. 

“Can I have another cookie?” he asked, not even done with the first one. How many calories was this? I handed him another and he ate that one just as fast as he ate the first one. I had to tell him no more after the fifth one. 

I was sure I broke the 500-calorie rule, but I was trying to satiate him. 500 calories were like nothing at all and he was huge. It baffled me that he would be able to live on only 500 calories a day. He was probably hangry. It was almost understandable he turned my wall into a punching bag. Maybe Mr. Tanaka had been starving him—though if he were, AX3 wouldn’t look to be in such fantastic shape. 

I spent the rest of the day talking to him, every so often bringing up little questions about Mr. Tanaka. I found out he was a single, older man. They’d lived in that apartment together for the last four years. He only let AX3 eat chicken breasts, celery, carrots, cottage cheese, and water. 

I had hoped to find out more, but at around eleven I decided to call it a night. I made up the couch for myself and told AX3 he could sleep in my bed. 

“I want to sleep with you,” he protested. It had been a while since I’d heard that from a guy. I wanted to ask if he and Tanaka shared a bed but decided against it. “Please Casey.” I would never do something this crazy under any other circumstance, but I went with him into my bedroom. He was still wearing the underwear and t-shirt I gave him earlier. I pulled off my jeans and pulled on a pair of athletic shorts. Normally I slept in my underwear, but that didn’t seem appropriate considering the situation. I put my glasses on the nightstand. 

We positioned ourselves on my queen-sized mattress and he held onto me. I wanted to push him off, but I didn’t. He wasn’t a bad guy, though I felt like one. He didn’t know what he was doing, and truthfully, I let him in bed with me because I felt lonely. 

My ex-boyfriend dumped me out of the blue over a year ago. It was during finals week, and I was completely overwhelmed with essays and projects. I got a text message saying he needed to focus on himself, and that he didn’t have time for a relationship. I was devastated. He was a year ahead of me in school and very popular. The worst part was that I thought everything was fine. We’d gotten dinner the night before and studied in the library together for a few hours afterwards.  

I still saw him sometimes in the coffee shop where we had our first date. My freshman year I spent most of my free time there, loving the atmosphere. It was special to me, and that was why I suggested we meet there. Now he was always there, and I was rarely able to avoid him. He always had something to tell me about how amazing his life was going. 

Before long, with AX3 cuddling me, I was fast asleep. 

I woke up around six and looked to my right. Shouldn’t someone have been next to me, or was yesterday a dream?  

No—AX3 was gone. I sat up, reaching for my glasses. Hopping out of bed, I put the aviator frames on my face as I rushed from my bedroom into the kitchen. There he was, drinking milk from the jug. 

“You don’t want a glass?” I asked. I looked at my counter. It was littered with food packages. He had finished off all the cookies. He had also finished some leftover pizza, a fruit tart my mother made me, a pound of honey roasted turkey breast. My Cinnamon Toast Crunch was gone, as well as my coffee creamer. I think he’d even eaten a stick of butter. His belly was full-looking, and it was shocking how bloated he appeared to be. I wanted to touch his stomach, like I had yesterday. He brought the jug from his lips. “I am sorry Casey,” he said to me. “Don’t be mad.” 

The 500-calorie rule had officially been broken, though nothing bad seemed to have happened. 

I hadn’t gone to my classes in three days, and I was determined to go tomorrow. It would be Thursday, and my last day of classes for the week. I’d spent my time getting to know AX3, and to be honest we didn’t do much aside from hang out. We watched TV and listened to music. I taught him how to make grilled cheese sandwiches. That evening, as we watched an old Disney movie, he asked me to give him a regular name. I was sick and tired of calling him AX3, and I guess he was tired of hearing it as well. I told him he could choose one and I would respect whatever name he chose. He insisted that I had to be the one to pick it, and I settled on Axel, considering it kind of looked like AX3. “How about Axel?” I asked. He laughed, smiling wide, and repeated the name. He liked it. 

The next morning, I got ready to leave for class. It was my only true commitment, considering I didn’t work. My parents paid for everything I needed. They told me that they wanted me to focus on my education. I was a bit spoiled in that regard and it was only because they had a great deal of money.  

They ran a genetics lab and had hoped their only child would study genetics as well. Sadly, I ran from science courses, never having an affinity for them. Maybe I should have taken Axel to them, but they’d look at him and see he was perfectly normal and shoo me out of their office. 

I told him I would be back in less than eight hours. He was eating marshmallows and I had given up on his care instructions. I’d need to go grocery shopping soon. We couldn’t live off pizza and Chinese food forever. We also had to get him some more size appropriate clothing items. “You’re leaving?” His eyes got wide. 

“I have to go to school. I’m a college student.” I took the marshmallows from his hands and placed them on the counter. “I will be back.” 

“No!” He grabbed me into a tight hug, like that day in Mr. Tanaka’s apartment. He was lifting me up, the toes of my shoes scraping against the linoleum of the kitchen floor. It started to hurt. “You’ll leave just like Jomei.” He sounded irate, getting more and more worked up. He grabbed harder. He was so unhinged, and it broke me inside to think of what he’d been through to make him this way. Tanaka had really screwed with his head. I started to wonder if he had been abducted as a child. Again, he squeezed tighter and I started getting that lightheaded feeling from a lack of oxygen. 

“Axel you’re hurti—I can’t breathe—” He set me down, looking fearful and apologetic. He reached for the marshmallows, pawing at the neck of his t-shirt. It was probably too tight. 

“Please come back soon.”  

“I will come back. I promise,” I said. I walked towards the door and he followed. I pushed him back gently and closed the door behind me. I looked down the hallway and at apartment 707 was a man in a black suit. He was balding, and his hair was a snow-white color. This was a white man, so I figured it wasn’t Jomei Tanaka. 

We made eye contact and I noticed he was holding an envelope. I couldn’t do anything right this second, but if he was going to leave something there, I was so going to take it as soon as I saw him leave. I left him in the hallway and took the elevator down to the lobby. I went outside and sat at a nearby bus stop. 

No longer than five minutes later he walked down the street to a sleek black car and drove away. I ran back into the building, key in hand and up the seven flights of stairs. My face felt flushed, but I couldn’t stop the excitement that began to grow inside of me. This could mean more information for Axel. 

I tried to use the key, but it didn’t fit in the lock. How had the other man gotten in here? He didn’t look like the type to pick a lock, but I’d recently learned not to judge a book by its cover. I, however, had no locksmith abilities whatsoever. “Shit,” I whispered to myself.  

“What are you doing?” I must have jumped a foot in the air. It was Axel, and he was in the hallway in nothing but my too small gym shorts. I guess he got fed up with the shirt. I had to buy him some clothes of his own. He seemed—wider. His chest was broad, his pecs sizable and incredibly plush. His nipples were pert and pink, the areolas a bit larger than a quarter. His abs, that had looked to be chiseled by Michelangelo himself, were nowhere to be seen. His tummy bowed out, as if he’d just eaten a large meal. I really needed to make sure he ate less, but he always seemed so happy when he was eating. 

“There was a man who left an envelope in there. I have this key that Jomei left me,” I said, holding it up for him to see. “But now it seems the locks have been changed.” 

“You want to go inside?” he asked. I nodded. He pushed me aside, and in one swift kick he knocked the door wide open. It was sexy, not going to lie. I looked around the hall, making sure nobody saw us, especially that busybody Mrs. Horowitz. I ushered him inside the apartment quickly, walking behind him.  

When I got to look around my jaw dropped. The apartment was back to normal—well not exactly. It was clean, yes. But this was an entirely different place than four days ago. Someone had completely redecorated. Had Doe done this? Was this her getting rid of all traces of the project? All of the furniture was different and there were new colors on the walls. I saw the envelope the man had been holding, picked it up, and continued to look around. 

They’d removed all of Tanaka’s belongings. It was like we were in a hotel penthouse. We had to get out of here. What if they had something worse set up than the stuff they used last time we were here? “Let’s go Axel,” I said, looking at the envelope in my hands. He pulled the door closed and we went back to my apartment. I threw my bag down and sat on the couch. 

He sat on the ground in front of me in a pose that reminded me of a little kid. He had his legs tucked into his chest with his arms wrapped around them. His biceps bulged with muscle, and they looked larger than when we first met. Maybe the 500-calorie rule had something to do with why he was getting so big so fast. He’d definitely grown since moving in with me, which was strange as it had been less than a week. I thought he still looked great, which was a thought I tried to ignore. I had to remind myself that we were only friends, if that. 

I opened the envelope and pulled out six folded up sheets of paper. It seemed to be a review of Project AX3 and its terminated status. It detailed what the project was and why it was ended. 

Axel was named from birth twenty-three years ago AX3—so he had never had a “real” name. He was twenty-three. There was something odd about knowing his birthday. He was a December baby. I had just turned twenty last month, in July. These documents claimed his mother “donated” him to the study, helmed by Mr. Jomei Tanaka and a Dr. Lionel Lawry. He had been with them his whole life. 

They were creating the perfect combatant and had been testing different formulas on him: a growth serum, a muscle developing medication, a brain stimulant which targeted receptors for aggression and rage. 

They were being funded by the government. I couldn’t fathom how this was pitched, let alone approved and financed. Doe was a member of the government inner circle who led this and other experiments for the military. She was the one who decided to cut funding for multiple projects, and to terminate this project in particular. 

His brain had been permanently damaged by the drug targeted at his frontal lobe. When he gets angry, he can’t control it. They rewired him—his brain. They’ve been manipulating his emotions, trying to make him ruthless, but it didn’t work out how they would have hoped. From what I read, about the tests, he had never been up to government standards. 

He could only have 500 calories a day because when he was going through puberty, they tested another formula that would allow him to survive on a diminutive number of calories, in case he was stranded in combat. He’d put on weight more quickly than a normal person because of it; his body didn’t burn the calories properly. I doubted they ever tested long-term what would happen if he did eat more than 500 calories a day, because it seemed to have an effect on the muscle developing medication. 

He was a government guinea pig, and they were just going to toss him aside because he didn't fit the mold they wanted. He never got to live a normal life. He would have died if I never went to Mr. Tanaka’s apartment.  

Scribbled across the back of the final page was a note from Dr. Lawry. The handwriting was messy, the lettering somewhat jarring. It read: 

Jomei, 

This is a complete farce. Does that bitch really think 25 years’ worth of research can just be tossed aside like this? You’ve got to take the boy and get out of here. I fear that they’ve already gotten you both. If you get my letter, you know where I am hiding. Call my emergency number. Get in contact with me ASAP. 

He signed the letter L.L. 

I must’ve read the entire thing three times before I looked at Axel. When I did, he was smiling at me sweetly, eyes lively and good-natured. “What?” he asked. 

Did I look worried? I was worried. What was I supposed to do with him? I didn’t want him to stay cooped up in my apartment for the rest of his life. Dr. Lawry sounded desperate. He must have been to leave this correspondence after seeing Tanaka’s apartment. He had to have been able to tell that things were amiss in there. Did he really think his colleague was just biding his time before returning to the apartment? I bet Tanaka got out of dodge before anyone could put a bounty on his head. His guilty conscience was why he left me the note, to make sure Axel was taken care of. 

Axel stood up and sat next to me on the sofa. He put his arm around my shoulder. This isn’t what you think, I reminded myself. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

“I’m fine,” I said. I looked at him in the shorts. He’d stretched out the waistband and I didn’t think the elastic would bounce back. I only had little underwear, so he was going commando. His sizeable penis bulged obscenely, trying to be contained by the thin, purple cotton fabric. “Though I think maybe we should go out and get you some clothes.” 

“But I’m already wearing clothes,” he said, jumping up. His ass was another problem. It was pornographic. Like my briefs that first day, the shorts rode up his butt. Even if he felt comfortable in next to nothing, he needed clothes because I couldn't take looking at him semi-nude any longer. This was a test from the universe—having the hottest man I’d ever seen living with me, parading around in the nude, and not being able to suck his dick. 

I suddenly realized he didn’t even have anything to wear to go shopping for something to wear. 

The next day, my off day from classes, we went to get him some things. He put on one of my biggest t-shirts and a pair of my running shorts. By conventional standards, the fit was terrible, but it was all we had to work with. His feet must’ve been at least a size fifteen, but I had a pair of flips flops that actually worked. They’d come into my possession one drunken night and I had no clue how. Had I stolen them? Most likely. 

We left out around noon and I wished that I had a car so people didn’t have to see him so—sexy? He had a powerful strut that showed off the sheer size he carried around. In four and a half days, he looked to have put on at least twenty-five pounds. Walking next to him felt good, and I felt lucky to have met him. It felt like a date, and I had to remind myself I was simply helping a friend, like I was all five guys from Queer Eye. 

I lived close to many shops and we first stopped at a shoe store. I thought a pair of sneakers would be nice. I measured his feet, size fifteen and a half. I told him to pick any gym shoe he wanted. He held up a tiny shoe with a light up cartoon character. I couldn’t help but laugh. I doubted those were made in his size. 

I told him to pick again and forlornly he chose a pair of Nikes. I also picked up two ten packs of socks. I paid, and we left the store to try to find some actual clothes. He didn’t get out much with Jomei I assumed. He was amazed by every store we passed and stopped to look in each of the front windows. 

After some more shopping, we came to the coffee shop where he-who-shall-not-be-named often hung around. He saw the shelf of cookies and treats and turned to me, face excited and eager. “Can we get something? Please.” As much as I wanted to avoid this place, I just couldn’t say no to him. 

“Yeah, let’s get something.” I opened the door and he walked in. I followed. We went up to the counter and I saw his eyes explore the shelf of goodies. “What do you want?” I asked after ordering a large, iced coffee. 

“I don’t know. What should I get Casey?” he asked me, still staring at all the pastries. They only had twenty different items. 

“May we have one of each?” The worker asked me if I was sure, looking towards Axel, then back at me. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks.” She pulled out a box and began to place one of each inside of it. I took the box and my coffee, along with three milks for Axel, and sat at a small table near the exit. He placed the bags he had been carrying beside his chair. Along with his shoes and socks, we had bought two pairs of sweatpants, three pairs of athletic shorts, a multipack of t-shirts (he chose purple, because they matched his new underwear), and a pair of blue jeans.  

He had eaten three of the cakes and I sat watching him enjoy himself as I sipped on my coffee. He was a behemoth and taking him in outside of my living room was bizarre. In my apartment he dwarfed everything, but even in public he took up space in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. He made everything seem so tiny. The milk cartons in his hands looked surreal. The width of his shoulders was intimidating, and the fact that he was still wearing my shirt that didn’t fit exaggerated the muscularity of his neck and traps. He also had a small gut that peeked out the bottom of the shirt, which was more akin to a crop top. I wanted to rub his belly, to feel his beefiness with my own hands. 

“This one is really good,” he said through a mouthful of lemon cake with vanilla frosting. “You have to try it.” He leaned forward, extending the dessert to me. “Bite it,” he directed, smiling. I took a small bite, savoring the tart-sweet combination. 

“That is good,” I said. He smiled even wider, pleased with himself. I was really starting to like him. He asked if I wanted any more and I declined. He then shoved the remains of the cake into his mouth, smearing frosting on his lips and nose. We needed napkins. “I’ll be right back,” I informed him. I went up to the napkin dispenser by the service counter and grabbed a couple while he continued to eat his food. The 500-calorie thing was dead and gone. 

“Space Case!” I cringed at the pet name. I turned to face my ex-boyfriend. “Blue hair, huh?” He smiled at me, though I could tell he was being facetious. He was a fake, all of him, everything about him. But even knowing he didn’t matter in my life anymore, that he had no control over my self-image, it made me feel small. He was a dick—but I still cared about him. I still thought about him. I still had hope that maybe one day he’d say he made a mistake when he broke up with me through text message. “How’s it going?” he asked, sure that I was doing terribly. 

“Hey Jonah,” I said, smiling. I could feel myself being fake too. I hated it. “I’m doing great, how about you?” It had always been so hard being myself with him. It was nothing like this with Axel. I didn’t feel so worthless, so insignificant. I felt my hand squeezing the napkins. They’d be too crumpled to use if I didn’t chill. 

“Oh nothing, been dating a lot.” He smiled wide, sure I hadn’t been on a date in forever. He reveled in the fact that I hadn’t gotten over him. “I’m just trying to get through these next twelve weeks. I’m graduating in December, a semester early. I can’t wait for graduation. Can’t wait to move out west.” 

“Awesome,” I said, feeling that none of the things he said were remarkable. He was a braggart. I knew he just wanted to tell me how great things had been going for him. 

“Have you been seeing anyone?” he asked. That was all he really wanted to know. I could lie, but then he’d hassle me for details, and that would trip me up. 

“Well, I, uh—um,” I stuttered. Just then Axel walked up to us. He still had some stuff on his face. “C’mere,” I said. He leaned down so I could reach his face. I wiped it off for him, taking in his beautiful eyes for the millionth time. 

“Is this your boyfriend?” Jonah asked. Wiping food off of Axel’s face did make us look a bit like we were together. I wanted to shove Axel in his face more than anything. Jonah wouldn’t know what to do with himself, honestly. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t use him that way, no matter how much I wanted to. 

“No, just a friend,” I said softly. He set his gaze on Axel and started flirting up a storm. I didn’t even get to introduce them. I didn’t get to tell Axel anything about Jonah. I could tell Axel was over it, and I was worried he’d get upset. Funnily enough, I was the one getting angry. I wanted to punch a couple of holes in something and it wasn’t my apartment wall. I counted backwards from ten, and with each number I pictured something that made me smile. 

“You must be an athlete,” Jonah said. “With all those muscles.” He deliberately glanced at Axel’s package, which admittedly was somewhat obscene in my shorts, but it was still creepy as fuck of Jonah to do. Axel looked at him blankly, and I was once again afraid he’d get upset. 

“Back off Jonah, he’s not interested.” 

“He can tell me that,” he replied, sure he’d won Axel over.  

“I’m not interested,” Axel said plainly. He grabbed my arm and walked me back over to our table. I glanced back at Jonah, who didn’t look nearly as good as I remembered. He overarched his eyebrows and wore too much cologne. I felt myself smile. Axel had stood up for me. 

“Can we go now?” he asked. “That weird man keeps staring at us.” I glanced over at Jonah, his face scrunched up and displeased. His laptop was open, but he was staring daggers at us. Axel still had five or so pastries left, but I was sure he’d eat them at home. We gathered up our belongings and went back to my apartment. I laughed a little bit at the memory of Jonah’s face. 

In the hallway I saw the man with the snow-white hair, Dr. Lawry. I hadn’t expected to see him again. He looked at me, and then at Axel. His face registered shock and we walked by quickly. Axel walked close to me, his body pushing mine forward causing me to stumble. He was afraid. I didn’t want that bastard anywhere near Axel. I had to keep him safe. “AX3!” Lawry shouted. “AX3!” Axel glanced back at him, but I told him to keep walking. 

“I know that man, he works with—with Jomei,” Axel said to me as I attempted to unlock my door. “He isn’t nice. He is not nice Casey.” My hands were shaking, and I was still balancing the desserts from the coffee shop. 

“AX3!” he yelled again. “Perro de Presa Canario!”  

Axel dropped his bags and turned towards the older man. His entire posture had changed. He looked ten times more aggressive, his hands in fists. Lawry smiled—before Axel lumbered over to him, lifting him off of the ground like a ragdoll. He threw Dr. Lawry effortlessly, the old man bouncing off the wall and hitting the floor of the carpeted hallway.  

Axel turned towards me, looking the most frightening I’d ever seen him. This was different than the other times. He seemed removed from the situation, as if acting on a vicious autopilot. All of his muscles looked tensed and his nostrils were flared. I backed up slowly. He exposed his teeth, like some kind of dog. It couldn’t have been the same person—the person who loved the color purple and cookies. I dropped the box, covering my face instinctively. 

“Palos Verdes Blue,” Lawry shouted. There was a loud thud, and when I peeked out from behind my arms, I saw that Axel had hit the ground. He’d passed out. 

“What did you do to him?” I shouted, almost crying. I felt the tears welling up. “What did you do!?” I ran over to Dr. Lawry, tackling him. I sat on top of him, and he smiled up at me. His smug face was infuriating, and before I could stop myself, I punched him. I had never hit anyone before. I didn’t enjoy it, but he stopped smiling. 

“Let’s just go inside,” he said, rubbing his jaw. I stood up, heart racing. I looked at him, and then at Axel, who was still unconscious. I grabbed all of the bags and put them inside. I picked up the box from the coffee shop and set it on the end table by the door. Hopefully, the desserts were still edible. Dr. Lawry was only a bit larger than I was, so it took the both of us to drag him inside. Axel was so heavy, we couldn’t put him on the sofa, so I just placed a pillow under his head. 

“It seems you’ve been feeding him well,” Dr. Lawry said condescendingly, taking a seat on my couch after removing his suit jacket. I stood a few feet from Axel, hovering nervously. “You don’t know about the 500-calorie restriction, do you? You’ve single handedly destroyed everything Jomei and I have worked for.” He sighed deeply. “How did you let him get so big, so fast? He’ll have to go down to 400 calories a day and be put on a strict exercise regimen if he’s going to get back down to 230 pounds.” 

I was slightly embarrassed, like I had messed up somehow. Axel was such a big man, if he wanted to eat who was I to stop him? I looked over at him on the ground, his belly rising and falling as he breathed deeply. Compared to when we met in Mr. Tanaka’s apartment that first day, he definitely was not his usual 230-pound self. I wondered if Axel even noticed. I think he enjoyed being able to eat whatever he wanted more than getting fat. 

“No,” I said angrily. “If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to.”  

“If he doesn’t, Doe will never reopen the project. We’re too far in to start on a new specimen.” 

“Who gives a fuck? You have destroyed a person’s life. You took his freedom, his sanity.” Lawry was talking about him like he wasn’t a person. Like he was honestly just a project. I looked down at Axel, still asleep. “Why can’t you give him this chance to start fresh?” 

“How did you come upon AX3?” he asked me, ignoring my question.  

“Mr. Tanaka left me a note asking me to look after his apartment.” I sighed. “So, you’re Dr. Lionel Lawry, I’m assuming.” 

“Yes, I am Dr. Lawry,” he confirmed. “And you are?” 

“I’m Casey Kirby.” 

“AX3 has never been around an African-American for such an extended period. It might be worth getting your testimony about your experience. Was he receptive? Both AX1 and AX2 were also white males. Perhaps that’s where we went wrong.” He was rambling, his mind obviously trying to piece together what factors could improve Axel’s chances of passing the government tests. 

“Racism isn’t inherent,” I said. “So, unless you taught him to hate black people, he would treat everyone equally.” 

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “It would still be worth doing some studies.” 

“Why did Axel get so worked up? What did you say to him?” 

“It was just an activation phrase. We use it to get him to attack. You see, he was a difficult subject, but the only one which survived. AX1 and AX2 both suffered deaths in training.” He narrowed his eyes on me before speaking again. “To activate the attacks, you must say Perro de Presa Canario. To deactivate them say Palos Verdes Blue. But that’s all irrelevant to you, Casey Kirby.”  

This was much more intense than I could have imagined. I wanted to ask more questions, to voice my opinions on the whole matter, but I couldn’t vocalize anything. My throat was so dry. I wanted a glass of water, but I didn’t want to leave Axel alone with this man.  

Dr. Lawry broke the silence. “When can I take him?” he asked, before laughing obnoxiously. “Disregard that, I’m taking him as soon as he wakes up.” 

“You can’t take him! We’re—you can’t.” I felt nauseous. He couldn’t take Axel from me. I felt selfish, but I liked having him around, and I wanted to make sure he was happy. Even if we weren’t a couple. Even if being in each other’s lives was only temporary. I had to help him be independent. Had Mr. Tanaka treated him like nothing? Like some simple weapon who didn’t have his own feelings and thoughts? 

“You’ve had intercourse?” he asked. “He’s too unstable for that, he could kill you. What if he snapped your neck after ejaculation? Or couldn’t control his sexual urges and raped you?” 

“How would you know?” I retorted, blood rushing to my face. “Have you studied his sexual behavior? Did he fuck someone to death? You didn’t even know he wasn’t racist until a few minutes ago, you sorry ass excuse for a scientist.” 

“No need to get hostile. I would not know how he responds to sexual intercourse. From what I know he is a virgin. We had him masturbate a few times, as a test, but I do know he’s done it without our asking—each time he seems different afterwards.” He smiled, and it felt very inauthentic. “Do you want to, uh—sleep with him?” 

“I think you should leave,” I said. I didn’t like him, not at all. He was a total ass. 

“I will. As soon as AX3 wakes up, I will be on my way.” He really thought he was going to take Axel. Well, I wasn’t going to let him. This punk ass dude was getting me more riled up than Jonah ever had. 

“His name is Axel, which is what he wants to be called, and he’s not going anywhere with you. And to reiterate, I really think you should leave.” 

“I’m not going—,” Dr. Lawry started, but I didn’t let him finish. 

“Get out,” I shouted. “You have no right to take him. He’s not some piece of property, he’s a person.” 

“AX3 is government property. You have no claim on him,” he said. “How do you know he wants to stay here? You don’t.” I would hope he enjoyed staying with me. I had really grown to care about Axel. 

“I want to stay here with Casey.” Axel sat up on the floor. I didn’t know he had woken up. “I don’t want you bothering Casey ever again, or me.” He stood up quickly, as did Dr. Lawry, who put on his suit jacket.  

“AX3, really, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Dr. Lawry said in a calm tone. 

“Now I really think you should leave.” Axel looked at me, still somewhat composed. 

“Now AX3, calm down so we can go and—.” 

“My name is not AX3. My name is Axel.” He was getting angry, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. “Get out!” He lunged over to Lawry and picked him up again. “You—you and—and Jomei.” He made a growling sound. I took it Dr. Lawry had upset him. It seemed he didn’t know the guidelines either. Axel shook Lionel like it was nothing, throwing him to the ground after a few seconds. He knelt down beside Dr. Lawry and began to punch him in the chest. 

“Stop, Axel no!” He’d kill the elderly man, who didn’t compare even a tad to the durability of my apartment wall. I ran over to them, and Axel pushed me back without much effort. I fell backwards onto the coffee table, breaking two of the legs. He had knocked the wind out of me. Axel looked over at me, his face contorted in anguish. He looked back at Dr. Lawry, who was panting loudly, and jerked him up from the floor, dragging him out of the room towards the front door. Axel stormed back in, his breathing heavy.  

“I hurt you,” he lamented, which wasn’t entirely true. For the most part I was fine. He hadn’t caused me any permanent damage. “I’m broken. I’m stupid.” I was still laying on the broken coffee table. He fell to his knees, and I could feel the floor vibrate from the sudden thud. He leaned forward, crying loudly. “Casey I am sorry. I am sorry.” 

I got to my feet and made my way over to him. I placed a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. “I’m okay Axel, really.”  

“I should go with him,” he said. “It’s where I belong. I don’t belong here. I don’t deserve this.” I knew he didn’t want to hurt me, and it didn’t seem like he ever really wanted to hurt anyone. I wanted to help. I wanted him to feel better. 

“When—when I’m angry,” I started. “I count backwards from ten, and with each number, I think of something that makes me smile. So, for example, uh, let’s say for the number ten I’d think of teaching you to make a grilled cheese. Remember? You put six whole slices in yours.” 

“You were right. It was too much for one sandwich.” He started to soften, his breathing becoming regular once more.  

“What’s something you’d use for your number ten?” I asked. He sat up, looking at me. His belly rose and fell with each breath. 

“Sleeping in bed with you. That always makes me feel calm. Or how you got me all those cakes today. Or when you taught me to dance to Beyoncé.” I felt my face get really warm, and I wished he didn’t make me feel like this. I didn’t want to abuse the situation. I wanted to just be friends.  

“That’s ten, nine, and eight. You’re good at this.” He got to his feet, and now he looked down at me. 

“Are you all right?” I asked. He nodded, pulling me into his body. We hadn’t ever hugged like this before, the closest we got to one another was in bed. I could feel his penis against my stomach again, but this time he was definitely hard. I didn’t know what to do. 

“When Dr. Lawry asked you if you wanted to have sex with me, you never gave him an answer.” I stood in his arms, completely caught off guard. Had he been awake, listening in? Maybe he wasn’t as clueless as I thought.  

“If I said yes would it make you uncomfortable?” I asked. He hadn’t initiated anything sexual before. I didn’t know if he was gay. Could he even be gay? Could they have made sure that wouldn’t have happened with some sort of pill? 

“No, I do not think it would.” We stood silent, his arms around me. I didn’t want to take advantage of him. He was vulnerable, and he’d been through a lot. If we had met through an app or on the internet, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I would have made my move as soon as he let me know it was okay. “I am sorry for getting so angry,” he said, releasing me from his grasp. “When that happens, I remember it, but it doesn’t feel like me. Something just takes over.” 

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “How about a snack?” He smiled again and nodded. His leftovers from the coffee shop were a little banged up, but they were still edible. He ate them happily, getting frosting on his nose and lips again. I smiled to myself as I went to get him a paper towel, but the thought of Dr. Lawry’s return weighed heavily on my mind. 

I knew Dr. Lawry would be back and I knew he’d be coming for Axel. I had been going to class off and on for over a month. I was still doing my work, making sure to get to campus to turn in papers and other major assignments. Every time I left the house, I feared I’d never see Axel again. That I’d return home to my apartment torn apart and my enormous houseguest nowhere to be found. 

“Casey,” Axel called out to me from the kitchen. I’d given my friend an assignment for tomorrow’s class and she had gone home. I made my way to where he was. He sat shirtless at the table with his legs spread apart and his belly bulging out in a heavy sphere, relaxing his stomach muscles after indulging on some cookies we baked earlier in the day. His meaty backside filled up the kitchen chair over capacity. 

His back was arched and his meaty pecs, which were covered in a substantial layer of flab, jutted out making him look massive. There was no pretending he was the same size or hiding his belly because it bowed out even when he hadn’t eaten, as rare as that was.  

His once thin face had begun to fill out and he started to get a double chin. I noted that his cheeks were very red. It was honestly the first time I ever saw him look embarrassed, or nervous. He didn’t seem to ever convey those emotions. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Your face is flushed.” 

“I’m all right,” he said, much more confidently than he looked. He lifted his bulk up out of the chair and made his way over to me at the counter. He looked down at me, face serious and determined. His belly pressed my body back, my butt up against the counter. His stomach pressing me back like that was so arousing. 

“I am going to kiss you,” he said, cheeks rosy. Before I had the chance to reply he pushed his mouth against mine. He kissed me, and I kissed him back. He tasted like gingersnaps. His breathing became heavier and I thought slightly about what Dr. Lawry said, about rape and the neck snapping. I knew that wouldn’t happen. Axel would never do that—ever. 

He was so warm. I hadn’t had sex since Jonah, and I wanted nothing more than to give myself to Axel. It had been on my mind ever since that day Dr. Lawry bombarded his way back into Axel’s life. That whole conversation made me confront the possibility of an intimate relationship with Axel.  

I wasn’t thinking clearly, at least not with my brain. My dick pressed against my jeans making my pants feel really tight. I knew Axel was turned on too, as I could feel his dick on my stomach. He bit my neck, sucking on it, then covering it with gentle kisses. I moaned loudly, unable to control myself. I grabbed his butt, working my way up his back. He’d have a large V-shape if his love handles didn’t pour away from his body, thick and fleshy. He kissed me on the mouth again.  

We moved towards my bedroom, stopping outside of the bathroom. “Can we do something?” I asked. 

“Okay,” he said. “But what’s in the bathroom?” I directed him to the scale and told him to stand on it. I was curious about how much he could put on in five weeks. Up until this point I had never made him weigh in, but I needed this. “Am—am I in trouble?” he asked, his arms covering his middle. He looked at the scale nervously. 

“No, of course not,” I said. This was perverted, and I’d made him uncomfortable. What was up with me? I liked a wide range of male body types, but I’d never been with someone as big as Axel was. There was something so erotic about having seen him grow into the biggest, most muscular man that I’d ever seen. I hadn’t considered that he was self-conscious about his body. 

“When I don’t do well in the weigh-ins, I don’t get to eat for a while.” 

“I won’t be upset with what that scale says,” I told him, about to be completely honest with him. “Axel, I—I kind of like it. How big you’ve gotten.” He moved his arms. 

“You like it, really?” he asked. “I did a good job?” I smiled awkwardly, nodding my confirmation. He walked over to the scale and stood on it. I hit the floor, so I could read the results. 347 pounds. My penis surged, and I felt a small drip of pre-cum. 

I stood up, and he stepped off the scale, smiling at me. I’d never been more turned on in my entire life. I pulled him towards my bedroom, and looking at my queen-sized bed, I found it to be awfully small. He pulled off his cotton shorts, which we had purchased on our second shopping trip, revealing a small purple pair of striped briefs. His thighs looked gigantic, larger than my waist. He could hold up a house with those legs. 

His ass was beefy and round, an enhanced version of the butt I saw a little over a month ago. His penis made a significant bulge in the underwear and I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down. He removed his briefs at the same time I pulled mine off. I stood closest to the bed and he pushed me back, a bit forcefully. 

He straddled me, kissing me hard. His hands pressed against the bed on the opposing sides of my head. His forearms were huge, and I couldn’t believe how firm they looked. He was even more muscular than when we first met, but he didn’t go to the gym or anything. He stopped kissing me, looking at me intensely. Once again, I was seeing a different side to him. He was so fucking hot, his lips parted in lust, his eyes staring at me with desire.  

I pushed him off gently and walked towards my dresser. “We need some things,” I said as I rummaged through a drawer. I pulled out some lube and the largest condom I had. I had to help him put it on. He said it tickled. Leave it to him to say a condom tickled. I lubed up his dick as well as my hole. I told him what to do and he placed his sizeable penis near my ass. 

He slid in faster than I would have anticipated, and I gasped loudly. “Are you okay Casey?” he asked. 

“Keep going,” I said, face down on the bed. He thrust his ample hips and held onto me with his big, manly hands. He went harder and harder and I thought of what Mr. Lawry said again. Harder. He grunted, his breathing deep. I just hoped I wasn’t too loud, not wanted to alarm him. Harder. Cum shot from my penis in what felt like an eternal stream. I’d never come from just anal before, and definitely not so fast. He was better than—what was his name? Joseph? Johan? Who cared! Axel was still going, and he was getting a little more aggressive. One last grunt and he came. 

We laid next to one another. “I love you Casey,” he said with all the feeling in the world I almost started bawling. “I never knew I could feel this happy.” 

“I—I love you too Axel.” He grabbed me, spooning me. His belly pressed against my firm body. I was still hard, and he was too. 

“I didn’t hurt you,” he said, his face conveying a large, proud smile. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was a bit rough. Hell, I kind of liked it. 

“You didn’t,” I confirmed, returning the smile. He asked me when we could do that again. I laughed and told him soon. I needed at least a couple hours before I’d be able to go again. 

It was a night about a week after we’d had sex and it was late. Axel stood up and looked around, wearing a pair of black short-shorts and a white t-shirt. He walked out of the room. 

It didn’t appear to be his typical late-night snack or something of that nature. Something had worried him. I stood up too, waiting for him to reenter. I heard the front door slam, and I ran into the hallway, putting on my glasses. 

“Axel, is everything all right? Who was at the door?” He was on the ground, doubled over in pain. I saw Dr. Lawry and a small Asian man—Jomei Tanaka. Dr. Lawry held a very large needle in his hands, and it appeared he’d already injected Axel with something. 

“How did you get in here? Get out!” I shouted. Axel groaned, still on the floor. I walked towards him and he stood, straightening up. His shirt was ripping at the arms. He was larger, even more so than usual. “Axel, are—are you okay?”  

“AX3,” Dr. Lawry said smirking. “I would like you to fight Casey Kirby.” Axel ripped the shirt open, throwing the tattered remains to the floor. His belly was rounded out, with a slight happy trail. It was large, but perfectly in proportion with his large arms and legs. He walked towards me and I noticed the aggressive stride. I stepped back. He took a swipe at me, but I ducked. I stumbled into the kitchen and fell back. He kicked me in the side, and like that day he pushed me onto the coffee table, it knocked the air out of me. My glasses had fallen off my face. 

“What did you do to him?” I shouted at the pair. They had followed the two of us into the kitchen, looking on at us—at Axel trying to kill me. 

“AX3, a moment please.” Axel stood up straight, feet planted firmly on the ground. “Well, first off, I would like to thank you Mr. Kirby for looking after my things for me.” This was Mr. Tanaka. He didn’t speak with a thick Japanese intonation like I thought he would, but instead he spoke with a New Jersey accent. 

“Fuck you,” I said, shaking. “Just get out of here. Just leave us alone.” 

“I’m sorry, but that is not possible.” He smiled sympathetically, and it was much more believable than Dr. Lawry’s fake-ass grins. “However, to answer your first question, I have given AX3 a drug Dr. Lawry and I have been working on for the last month. We have hardly slept trying to hurry and get AX3 out of your hair.” 

“He wants to be here, and I have no problem letting him stay,” I said pleadingly. Were they going to have Axel kill me? I stood up, finally better able to breath. 

“You see,” Dr. Lawry interjected. “He was lacking the ability to take direction. Not anymore.” He smiled. “He’s perfect—well, almost. He appears to have eaten his old self. Though, some of his growth seems to be the doing of the injection. That was unforeseen.” He chuckled. 

“He’s gotten too big. You can just let him stay here.” Both men laughed. “I’m serious. I already know Doe ended the project. She doesn’t want him anymore. Just change him back and leave. Please.” I was standing near the drawers in my kitchen, butt against the counter. 

“We’re sorry, but we can’t do that.” Tanaka looked from me to Axel, a slight frown on his face.  

“AX3, you need to knock Casey Kirby unconscious,” Dr. Lawry commanded. Axel walked over to me. I pulled out a knife from one of the drawers. 

“Axel,” I said, knife shaking. “Don’t do this. This isn’t you. You’re better than this.” My side hurt from the kick. He grabbed my wrist. His breathing was deep, and I saw his substantial belly shaking. He squeezed harder and I dropped the knife. His other hand around my neck, he lifted me off of the ground. 

I was starting to cry; the life being choked out of me. He walked me over to a wall and set me down. I think my wrist was broken. He looked down at me, his face cold. With his massive hand, he grabbed the side of my head. Those electric eyes I had looked into a million times were so cold. They were the last thing I remembered seeing before he slammed my head against the wall. 

When I woke up my head hurt, but thankfully it wasn’t too severe. It was early, maybe about five in the morning. The room I was in was very bright, florescent bulbs humming above me. I was laying down, on the floor of a large cage. I could hear Tanaka and Lawry talking. “We took the boy from his apartment Lionel, now what? You really think we have to kill him?” 

“Of course we have to kill him,” Lawry said. “He knows too much. We could never let him live with all this information. Imagine what AX3 has told him.” 

“When will we make contact with Doe?” Tanaka asked. 

“We’ll run a few more tests, making sure AX3 is entirely obedient, and then we’ll reach out to her. This has to be perfect Jomei. It’s the only way this will work.” 

“AX3,” Lawry called. I sat up, looking out at the three of them across the room. Everything was slightly blurry without my glasses. “You must go over to that cage and kill Casey Kirby. Do you understand what I am asking?” 

“I am to kill Casey Kirby.” 

“Proceed,” Dr. Lawry said. 

“I can’t watch this,” Tanaka said, standing. “It’s too much for me.” 

“Sit, Jomei,” Lawry said. “This is a perfect test to see what AX3 is capable of. I will need your evaluation of the situation to get the best possible analysis.” I could hear Axel making his way over to where I was being held. I looked around, no potential weapons in sight. Part of me felt that this was karma. I should’ve never had sex with him. The universe was punishing me for taking advantage of him.  

He reached the door of the cage and opened it, stooping down so he could enter. He was still in nothing but the black shorts. His thighs bulged with muscle and their size was intimidating. The shorts looked almost painted on. His biceps were unreal, as was the thickness of his neck. How much did he weigh now? Would he use the strength of his legs to smash my head in? Or maybe he’d simply snap my neck. He grabbed my legs and dragged me to the center of the room. I could see Tanaka and Lawry watching intensely. 

I flipped over to my back. Looking up at Axel, it was almost like taking in a mythical giant. “Axel, please,” I begged. “You’ve got to snap out of it.” He crouched down over me, grabbing me by my shirt, and slammed me into the concrete. I didn’t want to die like this. I didn’t want Axel to lose his freedom. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. 

“I love you,” I said, finally crying. 

“Ten,” he said, still crouching over me. “Sleeping in bed with Casey.” 

“What in the hell is he talking about?” Dr. Lawry yelled. 

“Nine. Baking cookies with Casey. Eight. When Casey smiles it makes me smile.” I was still crying, completely dumbfounded by what was happening. He had remembered what I told him. He was controlling his anger. 

“AX3, kill Casey Kirby. Now!” Axel balled his fist up, punching me in face, though it probably was not as hard as he could’ve done it. I felt my mouth fill with blood, and it spilled out over the side of my lips. 

“What’s number seven?” I asked, hopeful the Axel I’d grown to love was fighting his way out from the controls of whatever poison Lawry had injected him with. 

“Seven. Watching funny movies with Casey. Six. Going shopping with Casey. Five. Accidentally ripping my pants and Casey laughing.” He stood up, helping me to my feet. Dr. Lawry and Mr. Tanaka were absolutely in shock. They’d been so sure they perfected their formula. 

“This is a failure, Lionel.” Tanaka stood. 

“Attack!” Lawry shouted. “You worthless garbage, attack!” 

“Four. Dancing with Casey. Three. Having sex with Casey. Two. Hugging and kissing Casey.” Dr. Lawry ran over to where Axel stood. “One. Casey saying that he loves me.” 

“You listen to me, you big idiot. You really think this little faggot is going to care for you for the rest of your miserable life. I have raised you since birth. I have given you everything you’ve needed, and you have yet to yield any results for me.” He turned towards me. He had finally lost it. His years of research had ended, and he had basically nothing to show for it. I pitied him, but I also hated him. He wasn’t working with robotics or plants. This was a human being he’d tried to play God with. 

“You have ruined everything,” he spat at me, slapping me across the face. There was a moment of silence, and suddenly Axel grabbed Dr. Lawry, and in one swift twist of his arms he’d snapped his neck. I jumped back at the sound, in disbelief. He walked towards Mr. Tanaka, who back peddled, trying to get away from Axel. 

“Axel, no!” I screamed. He stopped walking and looked back at me. “I’m fine, you’re fine. Everything is okay. You don’t have to hurt Mr. Tanaka.” 

“AX3, come here.” He walked over to Mr. Tanaka. “You too, Mr. Kirby.” I walked around Dr. Lawry’s body, feeling slightly queasy. “I think it is time to admit that this project has come to an end. It was doomed the day AX1 died. Regarding your weight, you’ll likely level out and begin to gain weight more normally. At what size that is I am uncertain. On the mice we ran trials with they often doubled their body weight before they began to process calories normally again.”  

“Okay,” Axel said, holding me upright. 

“And AX3—Axel, I mean, we have no antidote for what we gave you, and its effects have not been thoroughly tested.” 

“Meaning what?” I asked.  

“Meaning if you truly want to take him with you, there are some uncertainties that you will have to face.”  

“He can stay with me?” I asked, relieved. I wasn’t so sure what Tanaka was saying was true. He could be biding his time, waiting to gather reinforcements to better control Axel. It was so obvious he was just trying to not meet the same fate as Dr. Lawry.  

Tanaka went over to his briefcase, returning with an envelope. “Take this. It contains his birth certificate, social security card, and other government papers.” 

“You’re serious?” I questioned. 

“Yes, I’m sorry for the trouble. I regret to have gotten you involved.” He looked from me to Axel nervously. “And I am sorry for this, amongst everything else, but I have to make sure I leave here in one piece—Palos Verde Blue!” Axel hit the ground. I watched as Jomei Tanaka grabbed his few belongings and rushed from the laboratory.  

This chapter in Axel’s life had finally come to a close, at least for now—hopefully forever. I held onto the envelope containing his documentation and smiled. My neck was sore. I sat on the floor next to Axel and rested my head on his chest. His heartbeat was even and steady. I was so happy. 

Whenever he came to, we’d find our way out of this warehouse and back to my apartment. I’d ace all my finals and we’d celebrate with a large dinner. He’d meet my mom and dad and all of my friends. I’d finish college and help Axel get started in school or a job. We’d be together, and things would be okay. I would never feel inadequate again. 

I was glad I found him chewing on all of my peach bubble gum, naked, and as weird as the project he had been a part of. 

The End! 

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #fatfiction #gainerfic #gainerstory #gay feeder #gay feedee #weight gain

[bluepotion85]

Expanding Bootcamp - Chapter 5 (Male Wg Story)

Summary: Will and Connor are the last men standing unchanged on base and as they try to stay separated from the rest of the team, they start to feel the repercussions of sticking to their guns. The loneliness that comes with their predicaments makes them bite more than they can chew. will they crumble to their desires in the wish of fitting in? and will they see more than they are ready for in their desire for answers?  

(The following is a male weight gain fic. This is for the most part a slow burn deal)

A few days passed and I saw Carlos walking around base. I approached to try and invite him to train with us and was a bit spooked when I realized he was having a massive burger out on the way to one of his assignments.

“Hey Will, how is the day treating you? you saw the chow hall extended its serving hours and menu to cover for the demand?” - he asks before taking a massive bite of his burger.

I just watch pretending I don't see his uniform painted to him like a second skin. Some of the meat grease and ketchup lands on his shirt but he doesn't seem to notice or care.

After swallowing he continues “It was time, people are hungry at other hours, and living off of snacks is not optimal you know.”

“Oh of course” - I say trying to keep the conversation going and not to bring up the fact that one of the skinniest men I have met now is looking like Salazar a few days after landing here.

“So you wanted to tell me something?”

“Ah yeah, I wanted to check if you wanted to tag along with me and Connor for some training later today or tomorrow?”

“Thanks Will but I’m in a bulking cycle. I want to try and build some muscle and Bradley is guiding me on this new regimen. I think it's giving results already” -he says with a big smile and an air of smugness I haven't seen in a while.

“But thanks anyways, hey maybe you and Connor could tag along with us on the routine. You could do good with some mass.”

he grabs another bite of his burger and adds

“Or we could go to the recreation room, Hill has been getting better at the fighting games”

“Thanks, I will tell Connor and see what he thinks of the idea. See you soon”

During Dinner that night I told Connor about the conversation with Carlos. While I explain the situation, Carlos and Hill show up to the chow hall with some cadets and go straight to their table with the rest of the members of the Large and up team. They have completely stopped hanging out in meals with us and twins have integrated to their table as well.

Connor looks at me like he has just seen a ghost, after finishing my story he asks.

“Do you want to finish food somewhere else?”

We go out with our plates and have food in the benches by the field.

“I don't know Will, I feel like we are drifting away from the rest of the team”

A part of me feels partially responsible for this, Daniel just started hanging out with their group because I intervened, Carlos and Hill bailed out because we enabled Daniel’s conversations about the situation. I have to make sure we don't dwell into it though, at the end of the day we made our beds and we had to lay on them.

“They are happy Connor, I miss the company but I don't think either of us is looking forward to join their games”

“I know but that's also the thing, I'm not particularly comfortable with how they have changed”

“Do you mean for the eating competitions or because you are scared of ending up like them if you let go for a while?”

“You know it's not like that, I would never. . . We wouldn't get like that. It's just after all the effort we have put through to get along and to be top of our class”

he looks at me with a sad expression “Besides you, no one else seems to care enough to try and stick to the program. They all look so happy but they are also burning their work away. And it's all been so fast, I don't understand it. Is it bad of me to think this way”

“Connor, your world revolves around this. Not everyone is going to feel the same way. Carlos' parents are loaded, Bradley has a farm waiting for him at home. You know I need this for me and my family. They can enjoy their choices freely without much of a worry compared to us” - I take a pause and look directly into his blue eyes.

For Connor, who has placed his trust in the military and its people for his whole life, the idea of them plotting against us in this experiment represents destroying his world view. I know verbalizing his concerns right now is taking a lot from him. And even though I believe there is something going on now, I can't allow myself to push him deeper than he already is in his worries or fears. There will be time for that later, for now we have to stay together.

So, I add -“Regardless of what happens, we are getting to the end of this together ok?.”

“Ok Will, thanks” -he says with a smile.

We get both plates back to the chow hall where the group is now seeing who can make the loudest belch or something like that. We squirm out and go to the barracks, in the way there Connors middle grumbles. He signs and tells me his appetite has been on overdrive lately but every time he sees everyone else going to town during meals he tries to contain himself even more.

I try to console him and let him know that maybe it's because of everyone eating around us all the time, that a hearty meal tomorrow will fix him up.

A couple of days pass and Connor mentions how the food in the chow hall seems to be improving in taste, like the machine is adding more seasoning. I don't feel that much of a difference but agree with him just to keep the conversation lighthearted.

At this point Connor and I are the only ones not taking part in the team activities that have extended out of the meals for the day. Now you can see cadets eating full meals around the base while pulling their shirts down to cover their bellies. Others have food stains as the new badges of honor.

And for the biggest guys like Salazar and Bradely putting their size on display is more a power move than anything. They will belly clash as a greeting, compete on who can belch the loudest and even after getting bigger uniforms they start to go around base with open shirts to show their torsos. They go in groups shoulder to shoulder or resting their weight on others. They used to be teasy and playful but everyone seems to be more touchy nowadays.

One day while I get out of the waste disposal unit I catch Bradley and Salazar rough housing surrounded by some of their friends, after some laughs and pushes they start resting against one another. They bask in each other's size and stay like that for a while. I think I saw Salazar getting excited at the moment so I decided to move on, whatever happens I don't have to be a witness. They seem to be growing closer by the day and while Im happy to see them get along Im a bit worried they enable one another in their less stellar tendencies.

The field and gym feel like ghost towns while Connor and I train, and dust has started to gather in some places people have stopped showing up. We kept some hopes that Carlos, Hill or the twins would come back to train but as time passed the idea abandoned our heads.

To add insult to injury, a few days later I got assigned another shift in the watchtower. When I got to the top I found Carlos sleeping on the floor, his uniform was upgraded not too long ago to match his ever growing body. And yet it looked like it needed another upgrade now, his belly was resting all the way out, his shirt rolling all the way to his moobs. There were bar wrappers and other pieces of food all over the place.

Some cadets have started to ignore their tasks or do them half ass. Carlos sleeping on the floor covered in wrappers is a new mark. I helped him wake up. As soon as he is up he yawns and finishes blasting a belch on my face and asks me what time it is.

I immediately recoil, he starts to laugh like he just told the best joke in the last year. I told him the hour and that I came to continue with the patrol.

Before he can reply, Hill comes from the elevator with his arms filled to the brim with food, and half a hot dog hanging from his mouth with a chilled face.

“Hey Will, want some grub?” -Hill barely asks between munches

They explained the shift was for Hill and Carlos just tagged along, once they ran out of food Hill went for more and Carlos fell asleep waiting.

He started to stand up and his new pants ripped in the effort, he started to laugh and slapped his gut “I guess this big boy is ready for a new upgrade haha, If you excuse me Will I need some pants and to fill the tank”

Before I can argue they are getting in the elevator down.

Not too long after that Connor showed up to accompany me. Apparently he tried to play a movie in the recreation room to ignore his stomach begging for sustenance. But he got surprised by Salazar and Bradley while setting the player.

“They told me they wanted to watch the movie along with me and sit on the couch, I didn't want to look mean so I agreed. Before I could get a stool they grabbed me by the arm and pulled me in with them on the couch.”

I wince just thinking about it .

“I couldn't tell where my body started and where their bodies ended, Will those couches are supposed to be for 4 people and I was struggling for air between the two of them. I needed a shower after that movie. They were both sweating bullets just sitting there besides me, and of course I smelled like hell afterwards”

“That sucks dude, sorry to hear that”

“Even during the movie they started to eat the food from a snack box while I was fighting not to break the diet. Their bellies gurgle and vibrate with every piece of food and then belch like I wasn't even there. By the end of it all I had bits of food everywhere”

I was shocked by the description of the situation but I was trying to be nice so I tried to focus on something good from the situation -“Well at least you all hang out! Did you end up having anything to eat?”

“Apparently someone is filling the snack boxes with more than protein bars, they had pizza, fries and such. I tried Wil really but I was so hungry, so I caved in and had some.”

“Its ok Connor you also need to eat, this is no zombie movie you wont turn by having a pizza”

“Well I hope so, the gym at least looks like a zombie town haha”

He told me they watched some Scifi movie, when the movie was over he excused himself to have some food but instead went for a shower and then here.

We spent the rest of the night talking, around midnight one of the monitors in the watchtower started to blink. Apparently someone was walking around base.

When I looked through the visors I saw a figure entering the chow hall. I told Connor and we both went there as quietly as we could in the dead of night.

Once inside the hall we saw the light of the kitchen on, what we saw was a massive figure bent down on one of the fridges eating everything on sight.

“Who do you think it is? For that size it has to be one of the biggest cadets around even Salazar himself” -whisper Connor in my ear while we watched.

the man would grunt and moan while licking his finger and taking huge bites of everything. a can of cheese falled from the fridge and rolled and when the man moved to pick it up we saw it was Commander Parish.

Connor gasped and the commander looked in our direction like a praying beast. I covered Connors mouth and duck behind the wall that divides the kitchen and the hall.

We could hear the thuds of his steps as he moved toward us, he was just in the door frame, in the dark of the hall he didn't notice us a few meters to his right. I could see the same amber colored eyes that screamed at us on the first days of the experiment now wild looking for the source of the sound. But before he could notice us his belly roared and he mumbled “Ugh It must be my imagination”

We raised out of the chow hall and back to the tower.

“Well that explains why he doesn't go out of his office”-I say trying to make sense of what just happened.

“Oh sure it will be hard to teach by example when you are the size of fort knox!” -Connor shouts and tries to compose himself.

“Jokes aside, at least we know why he hasn't intervened lately, he would be a laughing stock if he tries to put us to training in his current state” -I add while I pace around the room.

“Yes but that doesn't explain how he left himself go so badly”

“He is human Connor, stuff like that happens.” -I reply not knowing if I'm saying that to convince him or myself.

“It's still weird that everyone has gone the same way in such a short time” -he looks to the ground and he holds his stomach.

I notice his middle is starting to look fuller but I don't think it is the kind of information he needs right now.

“Still hungry?” -I ask

“Is it too obvious?”- he said, looking at me with sadness in his eyes.

“Noo” -I get cut by his stomach that roars so loud there is no way to ignore. “ok maybe just a little”

He sits down on the floor and covers his face, I know he must be stressed by this so the empty stomach won't help. I'm not sure if what I'm doing is adding fire to the flames but I open the snack box and try to give him a protein bar.

He looks at it with anger but eventually subsides and he starts to eat it with a defeated look on his face, it doesn't last long though, once food has passed his lips he looks more calm. I sit beside him and we stay quietly for a while just making each other company.

At some point we both fall asleep.

I have a nightmare where everyone in the team is a zombie and I go up to the watchtower to take refuge. when I hear Connor screaming running toward the tower followed by a horde of zombies and asking for help.

Then I woke up. Connor is sleeping beside me with his head resting on my shoulder, and I feel something wet. This idiot is drooling all over me, before I could knock him out of his sleep I notice he is talking in his sleep.

“Yes mom I can have more stuffed potatoes, It's only been a few of them.”

This man was hungry for real, he was dreaming of food for gods sake.

For a second I'm taken back by him. His black hair has grown a bit since we got here,it's a little messy brushing on my side. His muscular body now covered with a thin layer of fat, the relaxed face on top of me. Resting like this together, makes me feel like the world has stopped moving and there is nothing to worry about.

I let him sleep for a few minutes, and then I got tired of his drooling ass and shake him into the land of the living. He wakes up a bit shocked that the stuffed potatoes are gone and I can only laugh.

We decided to cut the training for the day after the long night we had, once we got down the tower we went to have breakfast. I'm feeling rather hungry as well so we both get plentiful plates and sit down.

The food today tastes divine and Connor looks so pleased to have a full plate of food after days of abstinence. Once we are out of the chow hall we get started on our assignments. Since most of the base has gone laze mode we run over all the facilities and divide cleaning for the week.

Even while we try to ignore the situation for the time being, we agree to continue our runs and weight training. I can't deny that during the runs Connor takes a few more pauses than before. He shrugs it off like nothing happens and I choose not to make too much of it. But I can't deny the shine of sweat saturating his shirt makes it stick to his body, showing how it has grown.

During our weight training he opened the snack boxes and takes protein bars here and there. I was happy to see him less stressed but I also felt like telling him about his increased intake in those wasn't a good move. But I decided to stay quiet.

During Lunch we saw the casual shenanigans of the now rest of the cadets, a full display of gluttony. People ripping through their clothes, belching like there is no tomorrow and eating everything on sight.  

We got our food and sat. Connor had a rather big plate but an even bigger smile while taking forkfuls of pasta and chicken. I was a bit spooked by the idea of him also gaining weight and getting punished like everyone else when this experiment was over.

But I couldn't bear to see him scared and stressed like the last few days. So I sipped it.

Besides, the food had a great quality improvement. I don't know what they have been doing with the ingredients but it tastes way better.

The days pass and for the first time in a while I wake up first than anyone in our barracks. At this point waking up earlier than most is expected. Most of them are a happy snoring mess during the mornings. But I woke up earlier than Connor who is soundly sleeping in his bed besides mine.

It's weird to see him not being the first to run out of the barracks for training, but besides a more relaxed outlook I tried to convince myself he is still himself and nothing is going on. Then I get interrupted by my own gut gurgling for sustenance.

After waking up Connor and I go to have breakfast, we start to eat and slowly but surely the cadets start to fill the chow hall and the rowdiness of the day starts. The size difference of some of our team members is more than obvious. Open shirts, oversized pants and missing buttons are the standard of the group. Some of the cadets are having a waddle while they find their seats and others are starting to get used to their thighs rubbing together while they walk.

“Well its official we are the only two cadets not eating with Salazar and the rest of the team” -Connor point out while he drinks some orange juice.

I look towards the table again and I see everyone laughing and shouting while they eat and a part of me craves the company, my stomach grumbles and I continue to eat ignoring the inherent loneliness of the situation. Then Connor punches me in the arm and smiles

“Hey mate, cheer up. we don't need them. We have each other” -he said.

I can feel my face warm up a bit in part because he read right through, and I must have those sad puppy eyes I get at times. And secondly because he is right, I'm ok as long as I'm with him but I didn't realize how much I needed to hear it from him.  

“Yes, we do. I'm still thinking about what's going on though. I've been thinking about something but I don't know if its a good idea”

“Sure tell me what's on your mind?”

“You remember when I went to see the doctor a while back? I saw he has our records, If anything weird is going on he would be writing it down there don't you think?"

“Yes it's possible, Most people here have gone to the infirmary at least once or twice. But we can't ask Dr. Donovan for everyone's records, that's kind of illegal”

“I know, but if what I'm thinking is right then I have a way to distract the doctor. One of us could get into his office with the files and see if there is anything wrong going on”

“I dont think thats the best idea Will, if we get caught it could be career ending” -he says while licking his fingers from the garlic bread he was eating.

I see the rest of the cadets rowdy eating at Salazar’s table and Connor in front of me licking his fingers like nobody's business. All I can think of is I need to find out what's going on and If there is a way to stop it before it's too long. Of course I have to downplay it as much as I can to convince Connor to help me, I can trust anybody else to join me on this.

“It's ok, the doctor is pretty chill. Even if he find us I don't think he would report us”

Connor thinks for a second about it and signs “Ok What's the plan, but if this gets out of hand you won't hear the end of it from me Will” -he says looking worried

“Come on Connor we are the best team in this base, we will do just great!”

His expression softens and the memory of our drills makes him smile again.

“You know what, you are right. Let's show whoever is behind this what we can do”

The next day we get our plan in action.

I wait outside the infirmary, the cubicles that surround the main space of the building have windows looking toward the main field. I crouch under an open window in the cubicle closest to his office.

Connor enters the building and knocks on the doctors office, he is supposed to pretend to be feeling bad and start to faint. Connor has grown a bit and the doctor would move him to the nearest cubicle. Once I'm sure the coast is clear I will move to his office and pick at the archive lock. Read the reports of Salazar or one of his group and get out.

They take longer than I expect but since Connor is bigger I Imagine the doctor is struggling to carry him to the cubicle. I can hear through the window when they manage to get there.

“Come on connor just a few steps there, Jesus you are heavier than I remember”

I know Connor won't be happy about the remark but it's not a lie.

Connor hits the bed and the doctor starts looking for equipment to evaluate what's going on. I get started and enter the building as quietly as I can. Once I'm in the corner of their cubicle I take out a mirror to see what's going on inside the room without entering.

What I see is a massive doctor, No wonder he was having issues carrying Connor. His hips have grown to great tree trunks rubbing against one another. His robe is open and his scrub underneath is busting on the sides as he checks Connors airways.

I realize he has his back facing me and I run for it. I enter the office and get to the archive.

The storage at the base has a lot of things useful for training sessions and individual skill development but the one thing I wanted was a key picking kit. I swiftly open the lock in the archive and open it slowly not to make noise.

The files of all bases are here and I start looking for Salazar. With his file at my hands I start to get ideas running in my head, what if we have a weird disease, or if they are trying to test chemicals in the protein bars or a super additive in the food. Any discovery could be recorded here.

Once I open it, It's mostly blank after our check up. Salazar came for an antacid at the first days of bootcamp and gained some weight but aside from that nothing.

I put his file back in place and looked for Bradley, he came looking for a pain killer after overexerting at the gym early on but nothing afterwards.

Connor, Carlos, Hill, Neil, the twins, and nothing. I look through my file and there's nothing I didn't know about by this point.

I'm getting angry and the weight of my stupid idea weighs on me. I'm putting my best friends and my livelihood in danger for the sake of a random sense of fear, in god knows what conspiracy theory.

I put everything back in order. I get out of the doctor's office and rest in the corner of the door to the cubicle where he is attending Connor. With the mirror in place to see inside, the first thing I see is the doctor reading his record walking directly towards the door and Connor looks at me with shock in his eyes.

I start to think where to run and Connor shouts “Wait!”

We both look at him and he starts to look for his bag “I brought some treats from the chow hall, take one as a thanks you gift”

While the doctor looks at Connor with delight I run for the chance and get out the building. As I get behind the window outside their cubicle I can hear the doctor ravenously eating the food Connor brough, not even waiting for him to leave.

“Thanks for the snack Connor, that really hit the spot” he said accentuated with a belch

“You seem to be in perfect condition, maybe you were just weak. Did you have a good lunch today? Not that you seem to be on a diet haha”

I could already imagine the barrating Connor will give me once he realizes this was for nothing. Putting him through this for empty papers is such a shame.

Once we reunite outside I Tell him what I found and instead of ripping my head off like I deserve he looks at me with a tender smile and says

“I'm happy in a sense that we found nothing Will. It means we are ok”

My chest heart sinks and goes all the way back to my neck in an instant, first I think how could I deserve so much understanding and then I realize I'm lucky to have him as a friend.

“Thanks for understanding Connor, I won't get us in a situation like that again”

We continue our day as usual and try to forget what happened.

Another week passes and most of the cadets have stopped doing their assignments, we first noticed when dust gathered in places we didn't clean ourselves during the day. After some consideration we both agreed to try and cover the most tasks per day, to make sure everything runned smoothly. But we start to get stretched thin so we decide to split up to cover the full camp each day.

At times I see Connor cleaning around in his side of camp and see him sneakily having protein bars and other snacks and throwing the evidence so nobody notices but the tightness in his pants is the biggest red flag so far. His belly has grown in the past few days and his uniform is not fitting as well. Everytime his shirt climbs up his belly he gets red as a tomato and he pulls it back down.

While I do my part of the work I have also noticed that people are being more than affective, I catch some cadets kissing or groping one another in the storage, people uniting beds during the day and cuddling, and during one of my cleaning sessions I saw a stain that made me realize I was cleaning a previous sex scene.

Bradley and Salazar are definitely doing something more romantic, while cleaning one of the hallways I see them entering the barracks while everyone is in the recreation room. I try to pick inside and see what they are doing and what I found is them eating each other's faces for dear life, discarding items of clothing as they continue. I get back into the hall and go as far away from them as I can.

When I tell Connor about it he is appalled by the notion of someone doing that in the barracks and wondering if they cleaned after they finished, but I was surprised that he didn't complain about sex in the middle of a military camp.

The days pass and Connor is eating more and more during meals with the excuse of training extra hard in our sessions. But we are slowly struggling with them; Connor keeps asking for a minute to catch his breath. He is obviously embarrassed, and I try to reassure him I'm also tired, at the start I was just trying to keep him comfortable but now I'm also struggling to keep my breath while running.

I start to notice that Connor is also becoming more physical, he puts his arm around me when we walk around base, puts his leg on top of mine when we sit around and over all gets closer to me wherever the opportunity arises. It's a bit uncharacteristic of him and whenever I ask he rubs it off as just being friendly. To be honest I won't complain of the extra attention, and if it helps him feel comfortable I won't make a big deal out of it.

Being so close to him has made obvious just how often he gets hungry. If I don't hear his belly rumbling, I will feel it when I'm under his arm walking around. He gets embarrassed by it but he continues to do it every other time.

I'm not faring much better myself in the food department. At the start I was trying to fight my increasing hunger like Connor, by cutting on meals but it's not showing much progress either. I'm noticing my belly also expanding and it's getting in my head. The one consolation I have is that Connor and I are still the same as always, the weight is only expected with so much food around. Or I tell myself as much to keep the anxiety to a minimum.

At the end of the week I'm finishing doing some maintenance in the energy generator, when I get out of the building I catch a glimpse of some cadets walking towards the gym. They are talking and originally I didn't pay too much attention till one of them said.

“I'm sure this week will be great. Everyone’s been working for this”

I think for a moment that they are planning something that could explain what's going on and for a moment special agent William Kent is back in the case. I follow them at a safe distance till they get in the gym. I look inside and everyone is in a massive group forming a semi circle around the gym’s scale. Leaving an opening in the center where I can see what's going on.

I wait for them to take action, and suddenly the lights turn off. Some of them light candles around the circle and Salazar and Bradley show up. They get to the center of the circle and say

“Welcome everyone, we thank you for coming for our little celebration today” -Says Salazar with so much bravado in his voice

“Today we see who is the greatest of us all. I know some of you have things to do, games to play and food to eat so, let's get this party started! ”- adds Bradley

People cheer and shout as they get ready to start what I can only assume is a ritual of some sorts. My ideas of satanic rituals go out the fucking window as soon as Salazar steps in the scale and everyone gets quiet.

After a few seconds the scale beeps and it says “Error”

Everyone goes crazy shouting error error like they found el dorado. The scales in the base have a weight limit of 400 pounds, so that means Salazar managed to gain over that mark. I'm speechless with the oddness of this situation, but before I can process what's going on Bradley gets in front of the scale.

Salazar looks at him with hungry eyes and kisses him in front of everyone, the crowd howlers while they go and with a little bite on the lips Salazar tells Bradley “Try to pass that fat boy”

He slaps his gut and moves away so Bradley can enjoy the stage. He stands on the scale and waits for a few seconds and the scale beeps. What it says is “Error”

The cadets go even louder screaming Error. They all laugh and applaud Salazar and Bradley as heroes.

“Ok everyone, let's celebrate we crashed that stupid scale, and get everyone to the same weight and beyond” -Says Bradley while I run out of there.

When I find Connor and tell him what happened his face loses all color but quickly, he looks puzzle and asks.

“Ok that means they are actively encouraging one another?” -he asks.

“I guess, it doesn't explain the speed in which everyone has tag along. I can imagine some of them been into the idea but all camp?”-I reply looking lost for words.

“It begins to explain how those who have . . .grown, or at least ignore the issue. Salazar and his team just encourage them to keep going but it doesn't explain how the twins or Carlos and Hill got into it”

“I guess we could say we have a part into that right?"

"Yeah, but even so. None of them were into this mindset before Camp Celsus, so what's making them act like this?”

We ponder ideas for hours, from hypnosis to subliminal messages to chemicals in the food but nothing sounded . . . reasonable. So, we cut our losses and went back to the original plan, trying to remain strong till this was over. Just hoping we can fit through the door before that happens.

The growth at base continues and our guys are still trying to figure out what's going on? Some of the scenes in this chapter are my favorites in the story so let me know what you think of them!

Thanks again for all the support and nice comments!

<< First Chapter / < Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >

#fat #weight gain #maleweightgain #gainerstories #male gainer #male #gay #lgbtq #military #Expanding Bootcamp

[bulklore]

I'm back

Woah, been a while? I'm not sure if any of my old readers will find this tumblr but I wanted a fresh start anyways, so here goes nothing. I plan to use this as a place to put my stories and hopefully connect with readers/writers in the gainer/transformation fic scene. I haven't used tumblr before but a friend recommended it to me and I thought it would be worth a try.

If you recognize some characters/stories, hi, it's me, back with a new alias. Do you like it? ^_^

I have very low expectations for finding readers, mostly I am doing this for myself actually. But I think it would be nice to be part of a community again. If people end up wanting a more formal way to request story ideas, please let me know and I will try to figure out a patreon or something similar. I'm very new to all of this so please be patient.

Thanks, and welcome to my page!

B

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainerstory #gayerotica #transformation stories