hog-farmer

[hog-farmer]

While You Were Away (Supernatural WG)

It’s a quiet evening in the bunker with both Winchesters currently occupying the library. They sit across from one another with a laptop in front of each of them and several loose books strewn about. 

“So, any leads?” Dean asks as he leans back in his chair, having grown bored with his own search.

“Hm… just one,” Sam responds with his face still pointed down at his laptop as he continues reading. “Though it’s vague enough where I can’t tell if it’s a werewolf or skinwalker.”

“Eh, silver works all the same,” Dean shrugs before taking a swig from the beer he has beside him. “Where’s it at?”

“Northern Washington,” Sam answers, which earns him an exasperated groan from his older brother. “I can just head out there myself. Shouldn’t be too much of a hassle if it’s just the one,” he offers as he scrolls further down the webpage on his laptop.

“Fine by me. Just don’t wanna deal with driving ‘round the Rockies,” Dean mutters into the lip of his bottle while rolling his eyes.

As the two begin to discuss further details about the hunt they hear a pair of footsteps approaching the library. Eventually, Cas steps through the room’s threshold with a plate of food in hand. With a somewhat eager pace he comes to a stop right beside the older Winchester.

“Dean, I think I made something you’ll like,” Cas suggests with his usual low-toned enthusiasm.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Dean casually asks, prompting Cas to set the plate down in front of him.

At first glance it looks to be a hotdog on a bun with a handful of potato chips beside it, but the main feature appears to be what is currently wrapped around the hotdog.

“A bacon wrapped hotdog?” Dean questions with a short, amused laugh as he picks up the piece of food. 

For the past month Cas has taken up an interest in cooking after the numerous times he’s observed Dean work in the kitchen. After being briefly taught the basics Cas worked his way up from helping around the kitchen to making meals all by himself. Now though he’s been experimenting with what he can make, like wrapping everything in bacon.

“Do you like it?” Cas asks after Dean takes his first bite of the bacon-clad hotdog. 

After a second Dean lets out an affirming grunt along with a nod and a thumbs up. Dean quickly scarfs down the rest of the dog and licks away the little remnant smudges of ketchup left on his fingers.

“Would you like another? I have more ready to be cooked back in the kitchen?” Cas offers.

“Yeah, make that two actually” Dean requests as Cas steps away to go fulfill his order. As he turns back to start snacking on his chips he notices Sam with a deadpan expression and a raised eyebrow. “What?” He huffs.

“Nothing,” Sam mock surrenders before adding under his breath, “Have fun clogging your arteries.”

“Yeah, and you enjoy your soulless kale shakes Sammy.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

—-

After a few more days of research Sam was ready to head out. He picked out one of the bunker’s spare cars and got it ready for the road, since Dean wouldn’t let him take the impala. He loaded it up with a pair of duffel bags, one filled with hunting supplies and another packed with his personal belongings.

With metallic thunk Sam closes the car’s trunk just as Dean saunters over to see him off.

“All set Sammy?” Dean asks with a half eaten chocolate chip muffin in hand.

“Yeah, I think that should be everything I’ll need,” Sam replies as he comes to stand beside his brother. “Cas getting into baking now?” he inquires with a nod to the muffin.

“Yeah, he’s actually really good at it out the gate,” Dean comments before stuffing the last few bites of the muffin into his mouth.

“Alright well, shouldn’t take me more than a week to get this settled, so I’ll see ya soon,” Sam remarks while opening his arms to bring Dean in for a quick hug.

“Yeah yeah, just stay safe,” Dean replies as he pats Sam’s back.

After the two separate Sam climbs into and turns on his vehicle. As he starts driving out of the bunker’s garage he briefly catches Dean waving him off in his rear view mirror.

—-

Over a month later an exhausted Sam steps back into the bunker through its garage. He’s tired and a little disheveled, mainly from dealing with an unexpectedly elongated hunt. Turns out it was a skinwalker, or rather several of them that weren’t even associated with each other. So, Sam ended up having to track each of them down individually to deal with them. As he lumbers his way through the bunker with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder he tiredly calls out to alert his return.

“Dean! Cas! I’m back!”

When the younger Winchester makes it to the bunker’s library he unceremoniously drops his bag onto the table they usually occupy. He quickly takes a seat to unwind but as the minutes pass Sam begins to question the lack of response to his call.

“Dean? Cas?” Sam tries again as he quizzically looks back into the bunker.

When Sam doesn’t receive a response again he lets out a sigh as he picks himself up to go look for his brother and their resident angel. His search is relatively short as he quickly catches some noises that lead him to the kitchen. 

“Guys? You in h- Holy Shit!” Sam begins asking as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, only to stumble back and nearly fall over himself at the sight he’s greeted with.

The prep space is a complete mess with several dirty pots, pans, and utensils strewn about. Along with various smudges and food scraps across the prep table.

What caught Sam off guard the most though is a very overweight, and nearly nude Cas standing in front of the grill. If Sam had to guesstimate he’d say Cas looks to be around four hundred pounds. Besides an apron partially covering his front the only other thing Cas was wearing was a pair of black boxer-briefs. The fabric looked very stretched across his rounded hips and rear. Its waistband was even bunched up in the back, exposing a small trail of hair leading to the top cleft of his ass.

“Oh, Sam, you’re home. Welcome back,” Cas casually greets once he turns and notices the younger Winchester. The chunky angel looks just as just as messy as his workspace, with his usual ruffled hair, scratchy face, and several small smudges of sauces dotting his arms and cheeks.

“Jesus, dude- Cas what the hell happened?!” Sam frantically asks.

“What?” Cas cluelessly asks with his usual head tilt.

“Your body Cas! How the hell did you get so…fat!?” Sam clarifies, fumbling for a second at the last word.

“Well, typically excess energy is stored within fat cells-” 

“Cas, I get that,” Sam interjects before Cas can continue his very literal anatomy explanation. “I know how the human body works. What I’m asking is; why? How did you get this fat so suddenly? I was only gone for a little over a month.”

“Ah, yes. Well… I may have been a little overzealous about my intrigue in cooking… extremely overzealous…” Cas shrugs with a downward glance at his rounded body. “As for the drastic change in my vessel’s appearance I believe that's a result of my recent habit of infusing a little grace into the meals I prepare.”

“So you’ve been spiking your food with angel’s grace,” Sam flatly summarizes.

“Essentially yes. That is one way to put it.”

In response Sam can only let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, okay. We’ll… We’ll deal with this later,” Sam waves off the situation at hand, too tired to deal with it any further. “Where’s Dean? I’m just gonna go let him know I’m back before heading to bed.”

“He’s in his room,” Cas simply answers before promptly turning his attention back to the several burgers and strips of bacon he has on the grill.

Sam can only shake his head in disbelief as he exits the kitchen. They’ve seen some strange things in their lives, but this one's new. Not the weirdest or most outlandish, but definitely new. 

Pushing that thought aside, Sam quickly navigates his way through the halls of the bunker till he comes to a stop outside Dean’s room. He gives the dark, wooden door a brisk knock, still a little wound up from his interaction with Cas.

“Hey, Dean. You in there?” Sam calls out. After a few seconds of no response Sam repeats his actions then puts his ear close to the door to try and hear inside. When he’s met with silence again Sam goes for the door’s handle to take a peek inside. 

As the door swings open Sam’s eyes go wide and he freezes in place, shocked at the state of his sleeping brother. Like Cas Dean had grown fatter in the short time Sam was away, significantly far more than the angel had. 

Dean’s new form now takes up nearly the entire surface of his single-sized bed. His limbs are buried under dense layers of fat with loose sacks of fat hanging off his arms and legs that exponentially get wider the farther up they go. His stomach takes up a majority of his figure, with big side rolls underneath his massive chest. Even his face looks bloated with the thick ring of fat that now frames it. The collective fat across his torso slowly rises and falls as he lightly snores away. He’s completely bare too, though his stomach and pubic roll give him a sliver of modesty.

Eventually Sam manages to snap back to his senses and rushes over to his brother’s side. “Dean! Dean!” He whispers frantically as he tries shaking the larger man awake. 

With a gruff snort the older Winchester is jostled awake. His bleary eyes slowly look around till they come to focus on Sam. “Hey Sammy, when did you get home?” he manages to ask between yawns.

“When did I get home?! When did you become the size of one?!” Sam loudly asks, completely baffled.

“Oh shut up,” Dean halfheartedly dismisses with a little blush as he struggles to push himself into an upright position.

“Seriously Dean, you look like you weigh a thousand pounds!” 

“Nine fifty-eight actually,” Dean cuts in to correct. “Cas weighed me this morning.”

“Still you’re fucking gigantic! How did this happen?”

Just as Sam finishes his question the two briefly hear soft footsteps approaching before an apronless Cas enters Dean’s room. In his hands he holds a platter of several burgers that are stacked with two patties each, melted cheese, bacon, onions, and pickles. Along with a mound of well-seasoned fries centered amongst them.

“That answer your question?” Dean remarks with a smart-ass smirk as he nods over at Cas.

“Here you go Dean, some extra-large bacon cheeseburgers,” Cas happily states as he sets the platter of food down in front of Dean.

“Ooo yes, come to papa,” the giant Winchester murmurs to himself before he starts digging into his first burger with gusto. While he does that, Cas squeezes in beside Dean and takes a burger for himself, slowly savoring each bite.

“Dude!? You’re seriously gonna keep eating like this?!” Sam interrupts, dumbfounded by his brother’s display of gluttony. 

“What?” Dean huffs through a mouthful of burger. “Like I don’t deserve to unwind and indulge a bit?”

“I think this is a little outside the range of ‘rest and relaxation’ Dean.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” Dean states before his now grease-slicked hands pick up his next burger.

With an exhausted sigh Sam throws his hands up in surrender and turns to leave Dean and Cas to their gluttonous indulgence.

“Told you he’d have a cow about this,” Dean mutters with a chuckle as he jovially nudges against Cas. The angel, in turn, silently agrees with an affirming nod.

After a few minutes Cas finishes off the burger he picked out, licking his fingers clean of stray grease. With one hunger briefly satiated he now turns his attention to another. 

As Dean works his way through another burger Cas softly places his hands atop the man’s monolithic belly. He feels for the gradually swelling stomach underneath all that fat and gently begins to massage. While Cas kneads the doughy flesh Dean lets out the occasional burp as new space is made in his packed gut.

Eventually Dean’s enthusiastic eating starts to slow as his stomach nears its full capacity. When Cas notices this he adjusts himself so he’s straddling one of Dean’s billowing thighs and picks up the last burger on the tray.

“Come on Dean, only one more. I know you can do it,” Cas softly encourages as brings the greasy piece of food up to Dean’s lips. 

With chunks of his precious burger still in his mouth Dean accepts a bite from the remaining burger. Ever so slowly Dean powers through and manages to swallow down every last bite Cas feeds him. Letting out a low, drawn-out groan Dean slowly begins slumping back in his bed.

“That’s it… you did such a great job,” Cas gently praises as he helps ease Dean back to lay down.

While Dean’s in a stupor recovering from his meal Cas glides a hand over the stuffed man’s bloated body. Going from his heavy chest that sags sideways to over his massive mound that is his belly. Eventually, Cas’ hand trails down to Dean’s thigh where it begins to slowly drift inward. Once his hand reaches the bulge of pubic fat Cas starts playing with it by gently making it jiggle.

“Mmmm…” Dean quietly groans as he vaguely shifts his legs further apart.

Taking the silent encouragement Cas adds his other hand and slowly begins to push back Dean’s fupa. Gradually, the upper half of Dean’s cock is unveiled. However, it does get much time exposed as Cas quickly wraps his lips around it.

“O-! Ohhh~~~” Dean brokenly moans at the slick heat of Cas’ mouth. 

As Cas swirls his tongue and bobs his head over Dean’s full member he feels every pleasurable shudder and spasm quiver it’s way through his engorged body. 

Eventually, when Cas feels Dean nearing his climax, he removes his mouth from the man’s dick with a wet slurp. From there Cas quickly shucks off his boxer-briefs and lines his own cock up in front of Dean’s buried one. With a steady hand Cas guides himself down into Dean’s slickened fatpad, fitting his snuggly against Dean’s own member.

“Oh Cas~~~” Dean sighs, completely blissed-out.

With that motivation Cas begins to slowly thrust his hips as he gradually builds to a steady pace. His cock effortlessly glides against Dean’s as they share the soft, tight space. 

All too soon Cas feels himself teetering toward his orgasm. Same as Dean with his wanton moans becoming more breathless and frequent. Soon enough Cas feels Dean’s member harden further and spasm against his own with pulses of warmth filling the space encasing them. The sensation is enough to send Cas over the edge as well, adding his own spillage into the tight heat of Dean’s fatpad.

After a few seconds to come down from the high, Cas eventually pulls out. When he does so a trail of mixed cum slowly oozes out from Dean’s fupa onto his bed. Though with a quick snap of Cas’ grace their mess is effortlessly cleaned up.

As Cas stands to retrieve his discarded underwear he notices Dean is already passed out and softly snoring. Understandable given the combination of stuffing himself silly and climaxing right afterward probably exhausted the incredibly overweight man. 

With an endearing chuckle Cas runs a hand through Dean’s hair before giving his cheek a quick kiss.

“Sleep well Dean. I’ll have another snack ready for you when you wake up,” Cas whispers to Dean before exiting the man’s bedroom.

---

Had a sudden wave of motivation for this idea and managed to crank it out in a couple days. Honestly, I should try doing that more often when something hits me. Currently though, I have been wrapped up in trying to write out a much longer story that I'm over half way done with. But you know how inspiration is, it comes and goes and sometimes gets stuck. I'm hoping to have it finished in the next couple months though so I can move on to other ideas, or at the very least crank out shorter side ones like this supernatural story.

Anyways, just wish me luck and again thank you all for reading.

[hog-farmer]

Weight Gain Prompts #2

4) A jogger/hiker gets lost wandering through a forest and ends up stepping on a beartrap. After struggling for a bit he eventually passes out from the pain. While he's vaguely conscious he catches glimpses of a man freeing him and dragging him away somewhere.

When the jogger finally comes to he finds his foot has been bandaged up, but he's also tied down/shackled. Could make that he's tied to a bed or maybe he's chained up out in a shed or something like an animal. Either way the man that captured him would diligently feed and fatten him up from that day forward till he's an immobile blob of fat.

Could also have other prisoners alongside the jogger, tied to their own beds or beside him in a shed/barn. Or maybe in an escape attempt he finds evidence/pictures of the man's previous victims.

---

5) A man undergoes a scientific experiment (willing or unwilling) in an attempt for humans to be able to gain/create energy from sunlight like plants do. The experiment works and the guy feels steadily energized when exposed to sunlight.

Maybe the experiment is an attempt to circumvent the need for humans to consume food, so the test subject goes without. Or maybe he still eats and only adds to the energy his body it taking in. Maybe the amount of energy this new source produces is just more than the human body naturally needs. Either way, all that excess energy would be stored in fat cells like usual in the human body.

The experiment would most likely be focused/based on skin cells, given their exposure. So as the test subject grows, more surface area would be created and thusly more cells that'll produce more energy. Eventually it'll become an exponential growth that'll cause him to grow faster the larger he gets. Maybe there's an attempt to stop the growth by cutting him off from any source of light, but maybe by then there's no way of completely covering him.

---

6) A gruff trucker is approached with the offer to test out a new self-driving truck that has artificial intelligence. He'll mainly be there to monitor and maintain it while it drives cross-country with his cargo/shipments.

Obviously the trucker would gradually become lazy overtime with him not needing to focus on the road all that much. Maybe the A.I. of the truck steadily evolves too, becoming capable handling anything external that the trucker would've need to do. Like it can speak to request gas station attendees to fuel it up or sign off(electronically) on shipments delivered. Maybe even picking up takeout orders for the trucker.

Eventually all the trucker does all day is eat and sleep in the cabin of the truck. Letting him steadily grow fatter and fatter till his body takes up the entire space.

[hog-farmer]

Weight Gain Prompts #1

I've been feeling the need to be a little more active in some way, so I figured sharing some of my writing prompts monthly would be a good idea. I've got a LOT of ideas saved up, so realistically I might not get to all of them with how long it takes me to write. Plus, I'll probably keep a handful that I really wanna do to myself so they'll be a surprise. :)

---

1) A guy discovers that he's a robot/android or is exposed to be one to his friends/partner. This revelation could be revealed when he gets injured in someway. Instead of blood or whatever wound he would've gotten his robotic innards are exposed.

If the robot guy was just as unaware of this revelation as those around him then they would search/investigate what happened to his human body and try to find it. If he just kept this as a secret from others then I'd imagine he'd just lead them to where his original body is being kept.

Of course his human body would be revealed to be a massive mountain of immobile fatty flesh. Its hooked up to dozens of tubes and wires to keep him sustained while his brain is linked up to the robot copy of his original body.

Maybe this is somewhat of a conventional thing in a future society that he volunteered for. Maybe its indulgent and he like taking care of his gigantic body with his robotic one. Maybe its all been done by a mad scientist and he doesn't remember it happening to him.

---

2) A guy wants to win a food eating competition. Could be for whatever reason; the prize for winning or he's a professional that's fallen off in skill in recent years.

He stumble across a spell/potion that lets him swallow anything whole and never feel full. He uses it for the competition, but its effects never wear off, they're permanent. With this I think it'd be better if he wasn't a professional so the repercussions have more of an impact.

Obviously, dealing with an unending hunger would lead to his weight becoming a bit uncontrollable/out of hand. Could even take things into a vore direction as he tries progressively larger and larger quantities to satiated himself.

---

3) A guy wins a "lifetime supply" of some brand of food/snack. However, its a lumpsum quantity, not an unlimited amount. With this absurd amount of food now in his possession he tries to eat it all before its expiration date.

Could involve others like friends and family with him sharing some of the stockpile and effect their waistlines too. Or maybe he's greedy/selfish and wants it all for himself.

I'd imagine this is a bit more on the goofier side with an unrealistic rapid weight gain over the course of the presented time. Maybe the brand might extend him an offer to be a taste tester once he's accomplished this feat?

[hog-farmer]

Are you more of a gainer or a feeder?

Oh definitely a feeder, I love the thought of stuffing guys beyond full and fattening them into waddling superchubs.

[hog-farmer]

Chimera Laios

“Falin, look out!” Laios shouts as he lunges himself at his disoriented sister, shoving her out of the way of the red dragon’s maw. 

As she falls to the ground Laios feels the monster’s fangs pierce through his armor and forcefully dig themselves into his abdomen. Before he can even process the pain he’s hoisted high into the air as the dragon lifts its head. Disoriented and stunned, he gazes down at the scarred battlefield. The members of his party lay defeated and scattered among the fire and rubble.

“Run! Get everyone out of here!” Laios yells through the pain down to a horrified Falin. With a worried expression his sister hesitantly raises her staff as it begins to glow. 

The light it emits quickly becomes blinding, forcing Laios to look away. When it finally subsides and he can see again his companions have completely disappeared. The relief for their safety is short lived when the dragon’s rumbling reminds him of his current situation.

In the blink of an eye the dragon tosses Laios a short distance into the air and snaps its maw around his entire body. He lands against its tongue which quickly forces him back towards the monster’s throat. Laios tries to struggle and fight as best he can in his wounded state, but it's no use. The flesh around him is too smooth and damp to get any sort of grip and even if he could he’s too weak and sluggish to do anything useful. 

Plunged into darkness, the slick muscles constrict tightly around Laios as they work to drag him down. His breathing becomes shallower from the pressure and exhaustion, as well as the unforgiving heat of the dragon’s insides. Though he can’t see anything Laios feels his vision slowly fading, a different kind of darkness overtaking him as he lands in the dragon’s stomach and passes out.

Deep in his mind Laios can still feel the pain that radiates through his body. It's sharp and stings especially around his lungs and abdomen. Though it gradually begins to fade away, growing evermore numb till he cant feel anything anymore. He feels calm and lighter, like he could just drift away into the sky and never come back down. However, that drifting stops, like a weight has been placed on him to keep him in place. For a while Laios stays like this, suspended in a sea of emptiness. Weightless, but weighed down all at once. The only thing he can do is let his mind wonder, but even then there's not much he can think of at the moment. 

He’s not sure how long it's been but eventually he begins to hear something. It starts faint but quickly grows louder, sounding like hushed whispers of a tongue he can't understand. Eventually, through the echo of voices Laios feels something begin to forcefully drag him down. The immense pain he once felt flares up once more, but it quickly fades again, leaving a dull ache across his body. 

Through the darkness he feels light slowly return, encouraging him to open his eyes to the view of his sister. Her worried face looms above him with patches of dried blood smeared across it. Laios tries taking a breath to speak, but the air quickly catches on something in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit.

“Big brother!” He hears Falin cry above him. Her hands are instantly on his blood-soaked body, rolling him onto his side and gently rubbing his back. “That’s it, just cough it out,” she soothes as he hacks up the blood blocking his airway. When the last of it is gone and his breathing finally evens out he looks up through teary eyes at his sister.

“Fa…lin,” Laios hoarsely croaks before she tightly wraps her arms around him in a hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” she quietly sighs as her weight sinks into him. With slightly stiff limbs Laios reciprocates the gesture, holding her as best he can. After a moment Laios feels a chill run through him, making him notice his bare body and the cold cobblestone underneath him. “Oh! Sorry, let me go get you a blanket,” Falin rambles when she feels her brother shiver. 

She quickly retrieves one from her pack and before wrapping it around Laios she uses it to wipe away a majority of the blood from his face. While she fusses over him the other members of their party make their way over to join them. “Marcille, Chilchuck,” Laios weakly greets as he recognizes the half-elf and half-foot respectively.

“Hey Laios, how’re you feeling?” Marcille asks, though she herself looks pretty exhausted.

“He’s still a bit disoriented, but otherwise he seems alright,” Falin answers for him with a soft nod from her brother.

“Good to hear,” Chilchuck responds before looking back to introduce the newcomer among them. “This guy here’s Senshi, he’s been a big help on our journey.”

“Good to meet ya, Laios. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Senshi, the dwarf, kindly greets.

“Senshi,” Laios softly tries the name as he takes in the dwarf’s appearance. Like most dwarves he has a strong stocky build. A horned helm obscures most of his face, only revealing his eyes and nose. A long ruffled beard spills out from below it and covers a majority of his torso. As Laios stares his stomach lets out a gurgle that disrupts the quiet atmosphere.

“Sounds like a good time to start prepping a meal,” Falin comments with a light chuckle. With that she helps Laios stand on his slightly shaky legs till he’s steady.

“Let’s find a spot to wash up first,” Senshi suggests as he comes up behind the tall-man to help support him. “Then we can settle down nearby and get cooking.”

The rest of the group nod in agreement and gather their supplies to head out. Luckily they don’t have to search for long as they come across a hot bath area along a random corridor. It consists of only one room, so the party decided to take turns with the women going first. After some time they reemerge looking refreshed and pass the room off to the guys.

The interior has several fixtures along its walls that spout streams of hot water. A large tub sits at the center of everything with water gently flowing over its edges. The excess water congregates at various drains scattered around the floor. Small gaps along the top of the walls act as vents to mitigate the amount of steam held in the room.

When Laios enters he immediately heads for the bath in the center, discarding the blanket around his shoulders as he does so. As he sinks up to his shoulders the dried blood that was coating his body begins to dissolve. It darkens the liquid around him till the cycling water slowly turns it clear again. With the remaining blood on his head Laios takes breath and slips under the water’s surface. 

While he scrubs his face and hair Laios subtly feels the water be disturbed elsewhere. Carefully opening his eyes underwater reveals a burly leg has entered the tub a few feet away from him with another one following soon after. Laios watches as the muscular pair bend and submerge themselves further, bringing with them more of the man they’re attached to. Sturdy thighs lead up into round, firm glutes and a bulky torso. Dark wispy hairs are scattered across the lightly tanned flesh, mostly condensing around the man’s sizable member. 

Transfixed, Laios lets his mouth drift open, accidentally releasing the breath he’d been holding. Mindlessly, he tries breathing in again but the water around him immediately catches in his throat. The tall-man quickly resurfaces, sputtering and coughing to clear his airway.

“You doing alright there Laios?” Senshi asks as he finishes settling into the tub. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine,” Laios hurriedly responds when he finally catches his breath. He bashfully tries to keep his eyes directed away from the dwarf but they futilely drift back towards him. 

His dense beard still obscures most of his upper torso, but a sliver of his firm chest and stomach can be seen from the side. Buff arms lay across the edge of the tub, matching his legs with a dusting of black hair across them. The thing that captivates Laios the most though is his face. Unobstructed by his helm, his features look sharper even while relaxed. Handsome and manly.

“Don’t take too long guys, we still gotta find a place for tonight,” Laios hears Chilchuck call out. Breaking his eyes away from Senshi reveals the half-foot is already done bathing. His hair’s still slightly damp as he finishes dressing and gathers his supplies.

As Chilchuck exits the room Laios turns around and sinks back down into the water with his nose just above its surface. His wandering eyes find their way back to Senshi, fixating on the dwarf once more. As he stares, a thought starts forming inside his head. Laios screws his eyes shut, embarrassed but wrestling with the idea of following through with it. Eventually he settles on a decision as he slips the rest of his head below the water’s surface.

Now underwater Laios is again presented with the bare, lower half of Senshi. He slowly drifts himself closer to the dwarf, careful to not disturb the water around him too much. After taking in the up-close view of the burly figure Laios tentatively rests his hand on one of Senshi’s calves. He feels the muscle tense under his touch but the other man doesn’t move or knock Laios away. Soon, the leg in his grasp relaxes, wordlessly encouraging Laios to venture further. 

His hand slowly glides upwards, passing over Senshi’s knee and settling on his inner thigh. Laios begins to gently knead the soft flesh before bringing his other hand up to mirror the action on the other thigh. While his hands are busy Laios watches as the dwarf’s member starts reacting to his touch. It flicks and twitches as it grows beyond the patch of hair around it to its full length. 

Without hesitation, Laios drifts his head closer to the now engorged appendage and gently wraps his lips around the head. He feels Senshi give a quick shudder underneath him, so Laios decides to go further. Taking more of the girthy cock into his mouth as his tongue rolls itself along its underside. He reaches down to its base, burying his nose into the hair surrounding it. 

After a few moments though, Laios begins to feel the stress on his lungs from staying underwater. He quickly releases the full member and pushes himself upwards to break the water. However, he resurfaces into a dense bramble of dark damp hair. Between that and the hot water his breaths feel strained and heavy.

Just before Laios can dive back under he feels the hair around him begin to lift. As it does so the air becomes easier to breathe and Laios can finally see without the dark strands obstructing his view. Though the first thing he manages to see is Senshi’s throbbing length as the dwarf perches himself on the edge of the tub. With a soft gaze, Senshi gently brings a hand to the back of Laios’ head and silently guides him back toward his member. 

With that little bit of encouragement Laios eagerly plunges back down, completely engulfing the dwarf’s cock once more. With his mouth now occupied and the hardy musk around him Laios feels his body completely go lax. He rests his head against Senshi’s thigh and lazily suckles on the engorged cock.

Senshi softly combs his hand through Laios’ hair, drawing out content hums from the relaxed tall-man. Their vibrations feel amazing on his member, causing it to pulse and twitch in excitement. 

Eventually, the sensations start to become overwhelming to Senshi as he feels his climax steadily approaching. As gently as he can Senshi starts to shallowly thrust his hips. Laios rolls his eyes back and lets out a deep muffled moan in response when he feels the dwarf begin to pleasure himself with his mouth.

This finally pushes Senshi over the edge, causing him to roughly force Laios all the way down his cock. Laios feels the head of Senshi’s member hit the back of his throat as pulse after pulse of seed is forced down it. As his climax subsides, Senshi gradually releases Laios’ head from his grasp. With slightly watery eyes the tall-man slowly pulls away from the member with a couple strands of saliva still connecting him to it.

With a soft, breathless ‘thank you’ from Senshi the pair silently return to cleaning themselves up. Afterwards, Senshi puts back on his clothes and armor and Laios dresses in an extra pair of his sleepwear that Falin luckily had on hand. Once they’re done they rejoin their waiting party members and head out in search of a safe place to rest. They investigated several buildings before choosing a house that had very few points of entry.

From there the gang started their usual routine for preparing a meal and settling in for the night. Since Laios wasn’t sure how or where to help he mostly followed along with what his sister was doing. All the while though, Laios would find his gaze wandering over to whatever Senshi was doing. Watching as the dwarf prepared a meal using meat from the dragon and whatever else they had on hand. 

Eventually, they all settled down around a table with various dishes spread across it. A pizza bread topped with onions, a seasoned roast of red dragon meat, and a soup made using the dragon’s tail. It all looked so delicious that Laios didn’t know where to start. Though it seems he doesn’t have to decide when Senshi hands him a plate with a slice of pizza topped with a few pieces of dragon meat. Realizing his gnawing hunger, Laios hastily takes a large bite out of the slice.

“This is delicious!” Laios excitedly declares once he finishes swallowing his bite.

“Glad ya like it,” Senshi replies with a light chuckle. “Take your revenge on that dragon,” he adds as he sets a bowl full of the soup beside Laios’ plate. 

Everyone else begins to dig into their meals as well, with their chewing occasionally interrupted by light conversation. Most of what they talk about is catching Laios up on what he’s missed, mainly the monsters they’ve encountered on their way down to this level of the dungeon.

“So you guys have been eating monsters like this the entire time!? Which ones did you like? What tasted the best? What’s the craziest thing you’ve eaten so far?” Laios enthusiastically rambles.

“Well, I really liked how basilisk tasted, but I think living armor was probably the strangest,” Falin responds after pondering for a second.

“You ate living armor! How’d you do that?” Laios loudly asks, completely astounded.

“Turns out they’re actually comprised of a mollusk colony, they use the armor as their shell,” Marcille joins in with an answer.

“That’s so cool!” Laios comments with amazement in his eyes.

The rest of the meal played out the same, with Laios excessively prodding the others for more information about the monsters they faced. Once all the food was finished up they cleared the table and cleaned their supplies. Afterward, everyone selected a bed upstairs and turned in for the night. As Laios settles down on the plush surface he feels his exhaustion from today’s events finally hit him. Closing his eyes allows a peaceful sleep to finally overtake him.

—-

A couple hours later, Laios suddenly awakens with a silent startle. He sits up in his bed and tries to look around for what would’ve woken him up, but his gaze fixates on the only window of the room. Without his input Laios feels his body get up and slowly meander its way towards it. When he reaches its ledge he mentally tries to pull back but his body continues forward. 

In an instant Laios finds himself landing on the cobbled street below, though surprisingly with no pain from the fall. Again, his body continues moving on its own accord. It feels like aimless wandering, but his body seems to know where it’s going when he stumbles upon the corpse of the red dragon.

“Oh, there you are,” calls a chilling voice that cuts through the dead silence of the night. Turning towards its source reveals an elf standing before the dragon’s head. His tanned skin greatly contrasts his very pale and neatly braided hair.

“Why do you look like that?” The elf continues with a monotone question. “I thought I gave you a mission to search for his majesty. I do not recall allowing you to rest,” he adds as he turns his piercing gaze on Laios.

From beneath his short cloak the elf produces a very ornate and gilded book. It floats in front of him and opens on its own, rapidly flipping through seemingly endless pages. As he reads an incantation his voice echoes throughout, seemingly coming from everywhere around them.

Behind the elf the dragon’s body begins to melt. Its flesh oozes and falls off its skeleton in chunks, condensing in a large puddle of blood below it. 

As Laios watches he feels a sharp pain start to radiate through his head. In response, his hands come up to clutch it as his legs start stiffly moving on their own again. They take him towards the dragon’s melting remains, stepping his bare feet into its pooling blood. Once he stops in the center of its ribs Laios collapses to his knees. He stays there for what feels like forever, curled in on himself as he writhes through the head splitting pain.

“Laios!” the tall-man hears his sister shout from a distance. When he tries to look up she’s suddenly kneeling beside him with a very concerned expression. She begins to ask him what’s wrong, but she’s interrupted by the elven mage from earlier. He stares down at her with a cold expression, calling her a thief and an intruder. 

Just as he’s about to reach out and grab Falin an explosion fires off overhead, splattering one of the dragon's ribs. Marcille and the others stand behind them, the half-elf has her staff raised ready to fire off another spell.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Falin tries encouraging her brother while the mage is distracted with the rest of their party. With all the commotion going on and the paralyzing pain Laios involuntarily lashes out in response.

“Get away!” Laios blindly yells as he shoves his sister away. The force behind it was unnaturally greater than normal, knocking Falin unconscious and sending her across the street towards their companions.

After that the mage brandishes his spellbook again. Like before its countless pages fly from one end to the other as his voice echoes off every stone and down every alley. The blood pooling around him bubbles and boils in several spots before small wyvern-like creatures begin to form and rise from it.

“Devour them!” The mage angrily shouts as the tiny wyverns take to the air and swarm above the party. They rapidly descend and attack with their razor sharp fangs and claws, landing a few shallow slashes on each of the adventurers.

The team’s still conscious magic-user manages to handle them though, dispelling each one by overwriting the spell that created them. When the last of the draconic monsters are defeated the mage moves on to his next  idea. Focusing on the ground around the party he forces a small chasm to open up directly under them, sending them into the dark depths below. With the intruders handled the mage directs his focus back onto a still struggling Laios.

“Hey dragon,” the elf’s call makes Laios freeze as he slowly turns his attention towards him. “That must be inconvenient, let me change your form for you,” he continued with a slow wave of his hand.

The blood surrounding Laios begins to boil, like it did moments ago with the wyverns. The viscous liquid unnaturally begins creeping up his body, completely covering his legs and trailing further up his torso. A numbness overtakes his legs as the blood beneath him begins to form a growing mound around them. Laios feels the mass begin to prop him as more and more of the coagulating liquid amasses underneath him.

“Now, do as you’ve been ordered to,” the elven mage coldly commands.

“Yes…” Laios breathlessly agrees as he feels the blood creep up towards his face. 

With that, the mage curtly turns around and begins to walk away. The streets and buildings warp and shift out of his way to give him a direct path, but quickly return to how they were once he’s far enough away. Now alone, Laios feels the pain that's raging through his body begin to settle in. He slumps forward and lands face first on the bloodied stone below. As his mind begins to fade out Laios feels the blood that’s crawling across his face begin to cloud over his eyes. His vision is slowly tinted with red till black overtakes everything and he falls unconscious. 

—

After a while Laios’ groggy eyes blink open as he’s stirred awake. His neck is stiff and his head feels heavy as he tries to look out at his surroundings. He’s still in the middle of the street where he passed out, though a few of the buildings seem to have shifted around him.

Propping himself up on his arms Laios tries pushing himself back up into a kneeling position. His balance is immediately offset though when he’s thrown up higher than anticipated. Overcorrecting almost sends his face crashing down into the cobblestone again, but he manages to extend his arms in time to catch himself. After a pause Laios tries to bring himself upright again, though slower this time to acclimate to the unnatural height. 

Looking downward reveals the reason for his thrown off balance. Where his normal legs once were are now a folded pair of those of a giant canine, far larger than a dire-wolf. They’re coated in light gray fur that comes up to Laios’ waist and tapers off into his torso. 

As his eyes trail up his body he notices more fur centered on his chest and lightly scattered down his arms. The nails on his fingers have become black talons, long and sharp. Laios turns his head to see the fur continue down his back and trial into the lower torso of a dragon. It’s slightly smaller, though proportional, to that of a red dragon, along with its scarlet colored scales matching perfectly. 

Laios tries to move the new, unsteady limbs of his altered form, attempting to stand with them. It’s a little uncoordinated at first, but eventually he manages to get himself upright. When Laios slowly starts to hobble down the street he tries to recall what happened earlier. Every memory in his head feels incredibly fuzzy, but one thing immediately snaps to the forefront of his mind.

“I must find Lord Delgal,” Laios absentmindedly drones as he proceeds to lumber his enormous, amalgamated body down the alleyway.

From there Laios wandered throughout the desolate fifth floor of the dungeon. He’d roam up and down the labyrinth of countless streets, peering down every alley and into the buildings set up along them. In one of them Laios managed to catch a reflection of his face. Two sets of short horns, like those of the red dragon, now protrude from his head. His canine teeth are much sharper, with a second set behind each of them and the pupils of his eyes are now slitted. 

Time absently passed in a blur, with every new corner he’d turn down looking as indecipherable as the last. Despite the creeping feeling of exhaustion dragging on him, the words of his mission tirelessly run through Laios’ head.

‘Find… Lord… Delgal…’

‘Find… Lord… Delgal…’

‘Find… Lord… Delgal…’

‘Find…’ *Guuuurrrrgle* ‘…Food…’

That new thought causes Laios’ mind to pause. His mission still pounds incessantly in his head, but it’s steadily being overshadowed by this new thought. The two ideas fight for dominance in his head, sporadically flipping back and forth what he’s looking for. Eventually one of them comes out on top as the other is finally pushed out of his mind.

“Must… find… Food,” Laios deeply groans as the roaring hunger in his stomach takes control of him.

With renewed effort Laios wanders and searches the town much more vigorously. Hastily looking high and low, in every nook and cranny that’d show any sign of something to eat. Eventually, a scent catches his nose’s attention. It’s faint, but Laios can vaguely tell it’s some kind of meat being cooked nearby. He desperately follows its trail, navigating his way through the town as best as he can. 

When his search brings him up to the rooftops Laios notices something in the distance. It’s hard to see through the darkness of the town, but there’s smoke rising from between a set of buildings. Now with a target Laios recklessly jumps from one building to the next. With every leap he takes his claws tear through chunks of roof tiles and any of the surrounding stone.

As Laios approaches he starts to hear noises, a mixture of shouts and screech-like cackling. When a small courtyard-like clearing comes into view Laios can now place where the noises are coming from. A flock of harpies are attacking and terrorizing a large group of adventurers. 

Starvation drives Laios’ instinct to target whatever being is closest and leap towards them. He manages to crash down on two unsuspecting harpies, crushing one of them under the weight of his front leg while he grapples another in his arms. It struggles and wails in his grasp, but Laios swiftly silences it by tearing out its throat with his teeth. Blood runs down his chin as the harpie’s body 

shallowly spasms and twitches till its limbs eventually fall limp and its eyes gloss over. Laios takes several more bites, chewing and swallowing chunks of flesh. Its flavor is unappealing but his gnawing hunger doesn’t care.

“Laios!”

A shout draws his attention from his meal on hand. Turning towards its source reveals a distraught and vaguely familiar woman calling out his name. The people directly next to her look familiar as well, though his mind can’t completely recognize who any of them are. With a quick whiff of the air the scent he’d been following earlier immediately hits him. Of that small group Laios pinpoints its source to the tray that the short shaggy-looking one is holding. There’s not much to it, just a piece of fish, a couple of rice balls and some sauces, but the scent of it is all his mind can focus on.

“Food…” Laios moans under his breath. He absentmindedly makes his way towards the alluring food, tossing the limp harpies aside as he jumps from the rooftop to the ground below. 

Before Laios can take a step forward several other adventures advance towards him with their weapons drawn. They stab and swing at him with swords and axes, leaving shallow slashes scattered across his lower body. Every hit enrages Laios, causing him to lash out with brutal force. Swinging his heavy tail around sends a couple of them flying and anyone else attacking him has their neck snapped in his grasp or head crushed under one of his feet.

A sudden onslaught of electricity causes Laios to stagger. All over his skin tingles and his muscles tighten and twitch, but he forces his body to power through it and face the magic-user that casted that spell. With his anger and frustration boiling over Laios feels a burning heat rising up within him. Following that feeling Laios takes in a big inhale before spewing a pillar of flames from his mouth. He pivots his head and spreads the flames across the courtyard, scorching everything.

After a moment, Laios’ fire starts to die down as exhaust begins to set in. Residual flames lay scattered across the ground, along with the bodies of various adventurers. The small group Laios recognized and a couple other people survived though, having shielded themselves with magic. 

With how tired and sore he felt Laios was desperate to flee from the situation, but not without that plate of food. In a last ditch effort Laios recklessly charged at the small group. As he stomps up to and over them he grabs the plate as he passes. Now with the food secured in hand Laios leaps back up to the roof. He stumbles for a moment to find his footing on the rickety tiles, but eventually he manages to steady himself and run away across the rooftops. 

Laios practically reaches the other side of the dungeon floor before he deems it a safe distance to relax and let his body rest. His lower torso slumps to the ground with a heavy thud as his legs fold into a resting position. As his breathing finally catches up with him Laios directs his attention to the plate of food he’d managed to snag. Miraculously, none of its contents were lost in his manic escape, but there’s something new he wasn’t expecting. 

Curled around the edges of the plate are a pair of stocky hands. Confused by this addition, Laios slowly raises the plate higher to reveal that the dwarf from earlier was still holding the plate. They share a surprised wide-eye look with each other, at least until Laios feels a possessive growl start to rise up in his throat. This snaps the dwarf out of his shock, causing him to finally release the plate and drop down to the ground. Before the dwarf can collect himself and run away Laios gently pins him under one of his front legs, mostly using its weight and size to keep him in place. 

Having handled that for the moment Laios redirects his focus back to the food in hand. Without hesitation he ravenously shovels every piece on the plate into his mouth. It tastes wonderful, but the satisfaction is short lived when Laios realizes how little food that was. Frustrated, he angrily tosses the plate aside as his hunger cries out again with a loud rumble.

“Are ya hungry? Is that what this is all about?” Senshi questions out loud, reminding Laios of his presence. The chimera-man leans his upper torso downward to investigate the dwarf closer. He vaguely smells the previous meal on the man, as well as several other scents that pique his interest.

“More food?” Laios curiously asks as his hands scramble over the dwarf, searching for where the smells are coming from.

“I’ve got some food in my pack, just let me up and I’ll whip up a meal for ya,” Senshi offers. 

The prospect of more delicious food immediately has Laios’ interest. He eagerly picks the dwarf up from under his foot and sets him down to let him work. Senshi proceeds to unpack his supplies, setting out the utensils he’ll need. Most of the ingredients he has on hand are leftovers from the dryads and the cockatrice, plus a few harpy eggs he managed to find earlier. After a second to think it over, Senshi decides to cook up the eggs and remaining meat and toss whatever vegetables he has left into a stew.

While Senshi busies himself with meal prep, Laios fidgets impatiently as he waits for his food to be ready. He hovers and trails behind the dwarf as he watches over everything he does. Eventually, the alluring scents of the cooking food start to put Laios at ease, encouraging the chimera-man to sit and wait.

“And it’s ready,” Senshi declares as he sets down a platter of roasted cockatrice meat next to his pan that’s filled with a vegetable stew. 

Laios almost stumbles over himself as he excitedly approaches the delectable food that’s been laid out. He scarfs down piece after piece of the seasoned meat, savoring each one’s taste before moving onto the next one. When that’s all gone Laios moves onto the stew. Lifting the entire pan towards his face and gulping down the whole thing in a matter of minutes.

With a satisfied sigh Laios lets the now empty pan clatter to the floor. His roaring hunger finally feels placated, though Laios doesn’t feel anywhere near full.

“How was that Laios? Feel better?” Senshi asks as he pats the upper portion of his front left leg.

“Hmm… good,” Laios replies with a content hum.

*Guuuurrrrgle*

“Still hungry…” he mutters when his stomach lets out a low resonating rumble.

“Well, that was most of the rations I had on hand. I had a hunch it wouldn’t be enough given your size,” Senshi comments as he cleans and packs up his supplies. “Let’s head out and gather some more to satiate that hunger of yours,” he concludes as he slings his pack over his shoulders.

Laios eagerly nods in agreement before bending his upper torso downward to grab Senshi under his arms and pick him up. He lifts the dwarf over onto his back, just in front of where his wings sprout from. When Senshi has himself securely seated Laios sets off to search the dungeon for something to eat. 

The pair wander the eerie streets for a little while till they stumble across the entrance to the next floor of the dungeon. Venturing downward leads them to a network of underground waterways and tunnels. Laios aimlessly strolls through them till his senses alert him to something nearby. 

Following the trail leads them to a very lush cavern with barometz plants scattered throughout. As Laios curiously approaches one he freezes as he notices a pack of several dire-wolves begin to lurk into view. A fight quickly ensues as the pack and Laios try to take each other down. The wolves aim their attacks at Laios’ legs and back, but his tough scales and thick skin prevent anything more than a few shallow bites and scratches. His attacks prove far better, the strength behind every swing of his tail and talons is enough to break bones and leave fatal gashes.

The battered wolves eventually retreat, leaving those too harshly wounded and the dead behind. From there Senshi and Laios round up the defeated wolves along with a few ripe barometz fruits and any wild herbs around to get a meal started. Senshi handled most of the preparations, but Laios helped where he could. 

Eventually they have several full roasts made up and ready to be eaten, which Laios eagerly dives into. While Senshi dishes and eats a plate for himself, the chimera-man scarfs down and picks clean every single roast. The dwarf feels a bit of pride and satisfaction swell up inside him as he watches someone so thoroughly enjoying his cooking.

When Laios polishes off the last of the roasts he slumps to the ground, exhausted but finally feeling full. The underbelly of his lower torso looks round and distended due to the sheer volume of food he’s packed inside. 

“There, bet that’s better,” Senshi cheerfully comments as he gently rubs the side of Laios’ lower abdomen. The soft touch feels soothing to his strained stomach, encouraging the chimera-man to doze off and peacefully rest after his excessive meal.

—-

From that point onwards the pair would continue traversing the dungeon together. They mainly stuck to the lower floors, since the mana there could best sustain Laios’ monstrous form. 

Their lives became a constant cycle. After resting for a couple of hours Laios would undoubtedly wake up famished, so he and Senshi would search and hunt down their next meal. Laios would handle any fighting required while Senshi scavenged and harvested whatever he could find. The dwarf also managed nearly all of the cooking as well with Laios helping with easier tasks or anything that may have required his greater strength.

When each meal was all set and ready Laios wouldn’t waste a second diving into it. Entire buffets worth of food would disappear in a matter of minutes down his greedy gullet. He’d completely stuff himself with everything in sight, leaving no scraps or crumbs behind. After finishing off his meal Laios would promptly fall asleep, letting his exhausted body digest the exorbitant amount of food he’d just consumed. When he next woke up they’d do it all over again. Hunt, cook, eat, sleep, repeat.

This kind of lifestyle does have its consequences though. While Laios has the size and voracious appetite of a red dragon he does not have its slower digestion and metabolism. Normally a red dragon would sleep for roughly a month between meals, but Laios has been consuming large quantities of food two to three times a day.

The changes to his upper torso were the most prominent in the beginning. His abdomen and arms become rounded and bulkier under a soft layer of fat. Laios’ lower torso and limbs experienced the same effect, though it was harder to tell at first under all that fur, scales, and feathers. 

Every self-indulgent meal would pile more weight onto the man’s monstrous frame. The belly of his lower torso quickly grew to brush against ground, even on an empty stomach. The legs surrounding it had to adopt a wider stance in order to accommodate it while the legs themselves became encumbered with their own thick layer of fat. Surprisingly, Laios’ tail became a place for fat to easily pile onto, growing overly rounded and puffy. Given the sheer weight of it Laios found it easier to let the limb just rest on the ground and be dragged behind him.

Laios’ humanoid portion also grew quite rapidly. A soft boulder-like belly developed to hang heavily from his torso. His fuzzy chest also filled out significantly, topping his prominent belly with two doughy mounds. His arms fattened up disproportionately with much more weight settling in their upper halves, greatly restricting their range of movement.

As Laios grew he had to adapt and change the way he took down other monsters. While he still had great strength he wasn’t able to use that advantage as dexterously as before. He couldn’t put as much force behind any of his strikes, but he could still crush anything he could get close to. Any sense of speed or stealth he may have had before were lost due to his greater weight. All together, his physical capabilities suffered and diminished as his weight rose and the effort to move his limbs progressively became too much for his body to bear.

Reaching the point of immobility would see Laios’ scaled underbelly spilling out from underneath him on all sides. Billowing draconic and canine legs rest flush against it with no hope of being able to lift themselves away from it under their own power. His titanic tail has broadened in size, taking on a more oblong shape as it lays motionless behind him. Bulky rings of adipose rise up into the wide doughy belly and hips of Laios’ human torso. His chest has become more shapeless and flabby, widening into his side rolls that are crushed under his equally large chunky arms. Any glimpse of a neck or jawline is hidden under a puffy ring of fat that's topped with overly chubby cheeks that force Laios’ eyes to slightly squint and his mouth to pucker.

“Hrrmph! C’mon Laios, you can do it,” Senshi encouraged as he tried to lift one of Laios’ enormous rear legs. Though the effort was obviously futile it was mainly an attempt to coax the over-encumbered chimera-man into a standing position. The prodding does motivate Laios into trying, but he doesn’t manage to raise himself more than a couple inches before his gigantic body slams back down to the ground with a resounding thud. 

“*Huff* *Huff* Too… tired,” Laios groans, exhausted at the monumental effort it took to move that little. 

*Guuuurrrrgle*

“Hungry…” Laios whines when he feels his stomach desperately cry out for food. He pitifully tries moving his body again, but only succeeds in frustratingly wobbling his soft malleable flesh.

“Ok, ok,” Senshi soothes as he comes around to Laios’ front to speak. “I’ll see what I can find nearby to try and rustle up something for ya. I’ll be right back,” he suggests as he gathers his equipment for a quick solo escapade.  

Left alone with nothing but his gnawing hunger Laios impatiently waits for his companion to return. After a while the chimera-man feels his eyes begin to grow tired and droop. Deciding to go along with it, Laios lets himself drift asleep in hopes that when he next wakes up there’ll be a delicious meal waiting for him.

—

“My, what a peculiar little morsel.” 

Laios hears a soft voice coax him awake, or rather into awareness as he feels like he’s dreaming. Opening his eyes to an empty white void, Laios is greeted to the sight of a golden-yellow lion with wings. It stands before him with an inquisitive look that feels like it goes right through Laios. The sight of another creature spurs the chimera-man with the thought of devouring it, but even here in his mind Laios feels too lethargic and weighed down to move.

“So hungry…” Laios mutters to himself with weak frustration.

“Ha, quite the gluttonous one, aren’t you?” the winged lion softly comments with a chuckle as he delicately drags one of his claws against the surface of Laios’ protruding underbelly. “Though I guess I can sympathize with that plight,” he adds with a wistful expression.

*Guuuurrrrgle*

“Need…Food…” Laios moans out loud as his hunger continues to plague him even in his dreams.

“How about this,” the lion begins, garnering Laios’ attention. “I find your situation to be very intriguing, so I’ll help you cultivate this desire of yours as best I can,” he offers.

“You’ll bring food?” Laios asks, fixated on the prospect of something to eat.

“Oh yes. Monsters of all shapes and sizes will be drawn to you, passive and ready to be devoured,” the lion pitches, dramatically emphasizing the final word. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal?” he asks with a crazed look in his eyes.

“...yes…”

—

After a couple hours of fruitless searching Senshi decides it best to make his way back to Laios.  As he retraces his path Senshi expects to find the immobile chimera-man laying in wait, but the sight he stumbles upon is more than he could’ve imagined. 

Laios himself has not moved, still anchored in place by his own titanic weight, but it's everything else around him that's a spectacle. Various kinds of monsters lay scattered around him, ranging from simple walking mushrooms to gigantic draconic beasts. Senshi cautiously winds his way through the crowd of monsters, noticing that they all appear to be alive, just in a mindless, trance-like state. 

As the dwarf approaches Laios he sees that the vines of a flowering plant have trailed themselves across the obese chimera-man’s body. Senshi briefly tests their strength before he starts using them as leverage to climb up Laios’ immense figure. As he makes his way upwards Senshi notices the flowers excessively leak an alluringly-sweet nectar from their centers. Eventually he makes it over the crest of Laios’ mountainous belly, allowing him to come face to face with the gluttonous chimera. Laios himself almost doesn’t notice the dwarf crawling up to his billowing chest, too engrossed in the mind-numbing flavor of the nectar he’s suckling from one of the vine’s flowers.

“Now what did you get up to while I was gone? Senshi inquired, slightly amused at the situation.

“Mmm… hungry,” Laios mutters a non-answer between gulps of sweet nectar.

“Ha, well, let me go whip something up for ya. I’m sure we got enough on hand,” Senshi cheekily comments as he turns to look out at the crowd of passive monsters. With that Senshi backs up and begins his descent to go get a meal started for his ever-famished companion.

---

Honestly really love this anime, the characters are great and it so easily opens itself up for weight gain and feederism. Obviously Laios and Senshi are my favorites, so don't be surprised if I do another story involving those two. I think I'd wanna make it a shorter rapid weight gain though, cause while I enjoyed writing this I will admit it feels a little lopsided with the actually fattening parts happening quick and towards the end.

Anywho, hope you all enjoyed, thank you for reading, and I hope to have another story around soon.

[hog-farmer]

Saw this little 'bingo' trend on Twitter a while back, so I thought I'd give it a go for something fun to post while I'm still working on my next story (which might include a character or two from here ;) ). Honestly, thinking of which characters I'd really wanna fatten took longer than I thought it would, that and trying to find half-decent images of some of them on the internet.

But yeah, take this as a glimpse into what guys most frequently stroll through my head (several hundred pounds heavier of course). Oh, and any IRL actor here is a two for one with them and their character.

[hog-farmer]

Build Your Bear *At Home*

Through the dense wilderness a sizable tanker truck carefully winds down a lone road. The crunch of gravel under its tires and its rumbling engine disturb the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. After a while the monotony of trees finally parts to reveal a large lakeside clearing. 

An expensive log cabin house sits at the end of the remote path. Standing one story tall with a wraparound porch that encompasses the main entrance and its waterfront side. The wood of its roof and siding has a reddish hue to it that contrasts against the overwhelming evergreens surrounding it.

The truck slowly rolls to a stop before the cabin, letting out a loud creek along with a puff of air as its engine rests. Moments later its driver door is thrown open as the man behind the wheel emerges. 

Clad in a pair of dark navy coveralls he steps down out of his seat onto the ground below. The only significant detail on his suit is the name embroidered across the left breast pocket, ‘Locke'. Small tufts of bright blonde hair peek out from all sides underneath his cap. A company logo is centered on its front, composed of the letters, ‘BYB'.

Free from his vehicle the man takes a moment to stretch out the stiffness from his muscles. After giving his cap a quick adjustment he begins sauntering towards the cabin. In his brief walk he admires the home's scenery till he comes to a stop at its front door. He gives it a brisk but firm knock before following up by pressing the doorbell off to the side.

After roughly a minute later the door finally opens to reveal a man on the other side. He appears to be middle-aged, most of the color has left his beard and has begun creeping up his sideburns towards his dark hair. The only other thing that might signify his age is his soft rounded middle, giving him a little exaggerated dadbod. Regardless of the extra padding, he's fairly well-built everywhere else. A firm puffy chest, bulky arms, and tanky thighs to round out his figure. He's dressed down in a pair of light gray sweatpants and plain white t-shirt.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the driver greets the man inside with a tip of his hat. “My name is Gordon and I'm here for an at home ‘build your bear’ visit.” 

“Nice to meet ya,” the other man replies with an outstretched hand that Gordon promptly takes. “Name’s Mike, come on in,” he continues with a nod of his head as he turns to head in. Gordon follows along, stepping through the threshold and beginning to survey the home around him.

The aesthetic of the inside definitely matches that of the outside. A warm and cozy cabin vibe throughout every decoration and piece of furniture. It all appears very well kept, not completely immaculate but lived-in.

“Hon? Who's at the door?” Gordon distantly hears being called from somewhere in the house.

“Delivery!~” Mike responds to the voice with a slight teasing tone. 

The muffled pattering of steps follows before another man appears around the corner. He looks older than Mike, short gray hair combed back with a few streaks of white. Laugh-lines frame his eyes while a bushy goatee sits between his bubbly cheeks. Similar to Mike he has a bulkier figure, though visibly softer with his age. His outfit is just as relaxed as Mike's too, with long plaid pants and a dark shirt that his fuzzy chest and belly peek out from.

“I thought that wasn't supposed to be here till next week?” the new man asks, confused but delightfully surprised.

“They called with an opening in their schedule, so I thought ‘eh, why not?’,” Mike recounted as he approached, swinging his arm around the other man's lower back.

“Well consider me excited,” the older man replied with a bright smile as he softly brought their noses together. “Now, care to introduce me?” He cheekily adds with a leading glance over to Gordon.

“Right right right,” Mike quickly mutters with an amused huff. “Gordon, this is my partner Arthur. Arthur, this is Gordon,” he continues as the other men exchange a handshake and their own greetings.

“So, who will I be working with today?” Gordon pointedly asks after a moment, quizzically looking between the two men. 

“Oh, that'd be our boy, Ricky” Mike clarifies while smiling back at Arthur. “We had our five year anniversary with him a few days ago, so this is gonna be his gift.”

“Ah, Alrighty then. Why don’t you show me where I’ll be working, then I can go get my gear and get things started,” Gordon cheerfully suggests.

“Sounds great, let me show you to his room,” Mike agrees with a wave for Gordon to follow after him.

“You boys handle that, I’m gonna head back and finish prepping lunch,” Arthur waves them off as he departs back to the room he came from.

The two men round the corner and make their way down a spacious hallway. Photos and memorabilia are spread throughout its walls. As his eyes drift past them one photo in particular catches Gordon's attention.

It's of Mike and Arthur with a third young man between them that Gordon assumes is the aforementioned Ricky. He looks to be in his early twenties with short, somewhat curly auburn hair and light stubble across face. The three of them smile brightly as they're out at some sort of pride event. They're all shirtless with leather harnesses over their bare chests. Ricky has his arms draped over the older men's shoulders while their hands proudly rest on the budding bear's small starter-belly.

Gordon is brought out of his fixation when he hears soft knocking. At the far right end of the hall Mike stands in front of a bedroom door. His hand is still raised from knocking while the other rests patiently on its handle.

“Ricky~ Baby? You up?” Mike gently calls out. When no response comes through he proceeds to quietly open the door and enter. Gordon hurriedly catches up with him, though the sight past the threshold makes his eyebrows rise in slight surprise.

The young man Gordon caught a glimpse of moments before is now in front of him, nearly taking up the entire width of a queen-sized bed with the sheer size of himself. His legs lay spread out, completely encased in cellulite, especially around his inner thighs. Half of a thin blanket lays over the lower portion of his thighs, the other half is wedged under his expansive stomach. It reaches nearly as far as his hips do, coming short just a few inches. Past his gut are a set of heavy moobs. His reclined position causes them to sag to his sides, emphasizing his side rolls as they spread out as far as the length of his puffy upper arms. As he sleeps his head lays back against a pile of pillows that's propping him up. Other than much rounder cheeks, slightly unkempt hair, and another chin his features are all the same from the photo out in the hall. 

“Hey Ricky~ C’mon bud, wake up,” Mike softly coaxes as he approaches and gives the incredibly fat man’s shoulder a little shake. This seems to be enough to rouse him as he takes in a deep breath, lets out a big yawn and blinks his eyes. He looks around a little disoriented till he notices Mike at his side.

“Mornin’ Daddy~” Ricky yawns as he brings one of his hands up to wipe the sleep from his eye.

“It’s afternoon Baby,” Mike corrects with a chuckle as he combs his fingers through the young man’s hair.

“Oh right,” Ricky mumbles as he recounts having breakfast a couple hours earlier. 

“Guess what buddy? Daddy and Papa got a present for you,” Mike says as he steps back towards the doorway and gestures to Gordon. With that and a confused look from Ricky, Gordon decides to enter and introduce himself.

“Hi there, I’m Gordon. I’m here for an at home ‘build your bear’ visit,” Gordon says as he comes forward to shake Ricky’s hand.

“Hey,” Ricky greets as he reciprocates the gesture. After a momentary pause his stomach lets out a resonating rumble. “Daddy, I'm hungry. Where's lunch?”

“Papa will be here with it in a bit bud, don't worry,” Mike comforts.

“Actually, it might be a bit better if he waits to eat,” Gordon interjects. “It’ll put less pressure on his stomach and let the process act faster.”

“What? But I'm hungry now,” Ricky complains with a distressed whine building in his throat. His pleading eyes stare up at Mike for help.

“You can wait a little bit, bud,” Mike consoles. Not happy with that answer Ricky proceeds to turn away and pout. After a couple minutes of trying to comfort the large young man Mike eventually gives up with a sigh. “Ok, what'll it take to make you agree and wait?”

This finally gets Ricky's attention. He stops his pouting and instead mulls over what he wants in exchange. As he thinks his eyes land on Gordon which causes him to smirk devilishly as he comes up with an idea. He waves for Mike to come closer so he can cup his hand against his ear and whisper his idea to the middle-aged man.

“You want us to do what?” Mike recoils in surprise when Ricky finishes.

“That's what I want,” Ricky finalizes by crossing his arms over his chest as best he can. “Please Daddy?~” he follows with a very pleading expression. 

The older man contemplates for a second before he relents and agrees to Ricky's demands. Having won, the young man giddily wiggles in place, causing his fat to ripple across his body. Mike tousles the young man's hair before proceeding to exit the room with Gordon on his tail.

“So… what did he ask for?” Gordon breaks the silence once they're halfway down the hall.

“He… said he’d wait if he got to watch Arthur and I fatten up afterwards,” Mike shares, amused and a little embarrassed.

“Oh,” is all Gordon can muster, surprised himself, but also intrigued.

“Yeah, honestly it’s not surprising. It’s how we met him in the first place,” Mike comments.

“Really? Then how’d he end up being the spoiled and pampered one?” Gordon prods further.

“Well, we first started chatting with him online. He was some hotheaded cub that was all about being on top and dominating. So we invited him over for some fun and… he ended up being complete putty in our hands,” Mike recounts with a fond expression. “Though that doesn’t stop him from being a total brat when he wants to be.”

“Yeah that makes sense,” Gordon acknowledges with a chuckle.

“So, can ya do it?” Mike questions, referencing Ricky’s demand.

“Adding you two to the mix? Oh yeah, I’m happy to oblige,” Gordon confirms. “I’ll go get my supplies and get things ready for all of ya.”

“Sounds great,” Mike agrees.

From there the two men part in separate directions. Mike heads for the room they’d last seen Arthur enter while Gordon exits through the front door. The blond man makes his way back to his truck and climbs inside. Rummaging through the equipment haphazardly deposited behind his seat Gordon manages to find what he needs. An insanely-long industrial hose, three phallic-shaped nozzles, a bottle of lube, and the remote for the tanker’s pump system.

With his supplies in hand Gordon takes them around to the tanker’s side. Taking one end of the hose he positions it onto the tanker’s release port before locking it in place. With that secured Gordon checks over the tank’s pressure valves and vents to make sure they’re all working properly. Confident that everything is ready he takes the other end of the hose and begins trailing it towards the cabin. Through the entrance, pass the main living area and down the hall till Gordon’s outside Ricky’s room again.

“Just one treat Papa?” Gordon hears Ricky ask as the room’s interior comes into view. Ricky, unsurprisingly, is still firmly planted on his bed, though now the older men flank him on both sides.

“No bud, you promised you’d wait,” Arthur halfheartedly scolds before throwing in a cheeky non-threat. “Or do you not want Daddy and Papa to get fattened up for ya?” 

“You guys ready?” Gordon interrupts as he reenters the room and fixes a nozzle to the end of the hose.

“Yup all set,” Mike replies.

“Okay, now, normally this is the part where I tell the subject to strip, but…” Gordon trails off as he gestures at Ricky’s blatantly naked form. This earns a blush from the young man and a few chuckles from the older ones. “So let's get him propped up, lubed, and ready.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about lube with this one. Trust me, he’s loose enough,” Arthur embarrassingly comments.

“Papa!” Ricky cries as the red of his face flushes an even deeper shade.

“Okay okay, let’s get going” Mike deescalates as he starts removing the pillow propping up Ricky. Arthur joins his efforts by taking the young man’s hand and helping him into a more upright position. While they’re busy with that Gordon comes around with his supplies.

Eventually they get everything ready. The space behind is clear and Ricky is sitting up as best he can, though he’s leaning over his belly a bit. His legs are awkwardly splayed out to the side with his feet just hanging over the edge of the bed. This leaves the big mounds of his ass completely exposed.

“Ready Ricky?” Gordon asks as he leans into the space behind the young man. 

With a firm nod from him Gordon instructs the other two men to start. From both sides they each reach toward the crevice of Ricky’s ass. Once they have a good grip they pull to pry his massive cheeks apart. They make a good effort of it but it's not quite enough to reveal the young man’s hole, so Gordon decides to probe around for it. 

It’s easy enough to slip a couple of fingers into the fleshy divide with how damp it is with sweat. Gordon’s hand is enveloped up to his knuckles before he finally feels where the two mounds meet. He doesn’t feel Ricky’s hole yet so he trails his fingers downward till he does. As soon as his digits brush up against the sensitive ring Gordon feels Ricky’s body give an anticipative shiver. Tentatively, Gordon probes the muscle further, finding it to already be fairly loose like Arthur commented earlier.

Using his thumb and index finger Gordon exposes Ricky’s hole as best he can with one hand. With that ready he takes the hose and brings its slicked nozzle towards the exposed muscle. It’s met with little resistance, only needing a few wiggles to ease the inner muscles and guide it deeper. Ricky lets out a relieved sigh as he feels the invading equipment finally brush past his prostate.

“Okay, that should be deep enough,” Gordon decides once roughly a foot of the phallic-shaped nozzle is planted past the young man’s rim. The other men relax their hold on Ricky’s boulder-like ass, letting the gelatinous flesh envelop the hose further. As the smaller men step back they convene at the front end of Ricky’s bed. Gordon unclasps the tanker’s remote from one of his suits pockets and hands it off to Mike and Arthur. The blond man gives them a short rundown of its control, mainly pointing out the start switch and volume knob.

“You ready for this baby?” Mike tenderly asks the young man as he and Arthur lean in close to his face.

“Yeah, make me huge,” Ricky replies as he gives his belly a quick pat. With that the two men dive in and plant a kiss on each of Ricky’s chubby cheeks.

They step back once more and finally turn on the tanker’s pump, setting the volume flow to about halfway. Nothing happens for roughly a minute till they see the hose begin to twitch along the floor. It steadily pulses as the shadow of the liquid inside inches further up the tube. Soon enough the fluid begins to enter Ricky, snaking its way through his guts before coming to settle in his stomach.

After a minute Ricky begins to feel a cycle of pain and relief as the pressure in his stomach grows and eases. Eventually it all blurs into the background as a general uncomfortableness when he notices his belly subtly creeping further outward. 

“At his size a couple of pounds is like a drop in an ocean, so his growth will be more of a subtle climb than anything drastic,” Gordon explains while everyone is fixated on Ricky’s slow-growing form.

Watching his body slowly expand like dough Ricky idly strokes his hands across his stomach. His flesh gets softer and larger with each pulse in his stomach. Mindlessly, the young man finds himself breathing in sync with the pumping. His hands drift to his chest, squeezing and cupping his nipples to try and completely cover them. In his grasp he feels them grow, their weight increasing around his digits till they’re unmanageable and he lets them flop back down.

After a couple of minutes Ricky’s stomach has swelled large enough to nearly reach the end of his bed. It’s already begun to drool over its sides. Behind him his ass has gone from large mounds to absolute mountains. They’ve reached his headboard at the other end of his bed and are steadily creeping higher up. His legs were useless before, but now they’re far beyond that. They’ve blown past the size of keg barrels, preventing the hope of them ever being able to bend again. Even his feet are turning puffy with fat as the adipose of his ankles threatens to swallow them up. 

His hands and arms are becoming just as encumbered. The excessive fat around his shoulders and elbows have just about locked his limbs in place, forcing them to lay uselessly atop his side rolls. His fingers are almost at their limit to be able to bend with how swollen they’ve become. Around his face another chin has formed under his second one and his bubbly cheeks have started encroaching closer together. They force his mouth into a permanent pout and cause his eyes to squint. 

*Creeeeek* *CRACK*

The bed frame lets out a high pitched whine before quickly giving out. Its legs completely snap under Ricky’s climbing weight, dropping the mattress and boxspring clean to the ground. The one foot drop sends a massive ripple through Ricky’s malleable form. Every fold, roll, and mound of fat doesn’t settle its jiggling for half a minute. It’s at this point that Ricky feels the pressure in his stomach slowly fade away, and the pleasurable growth alongside it.

“Nooo… why’d it stop,” the now immobile man struggles to whine through his puffy cheeks.

“Sorry bud, gonna have to stop ya there,” Arthur consoles as he comes up and places a comforting hand on one of Ricky’s rolls of back fat.

“Besides, don’t you wanna fill that belly with something else?” Mike interjects. This reminds Ricky of the food waiting for him, causing the blobby young man to wiggle his fat as best he can in excitement.

“Okay, I’ll go get his lunch,” Arthur volunteers. “While I do that, why don’t you get yourself ready?” He adds with a cheeky wink as he walks past Mike, giving the man a brief peck on the cheek as he does so.

With his partner now out of the room Mike turns to Gordon, “Welp, you heard the man, let’s get things started.”

“Alrighty, while I get Ricky here unhooked you strip and get comfortable,” Gordon instructs as he steps back around to Ricky’s rear. 

The titanic cheeks have enveloped much more of the hose in their growth, smothering the equipment underneath it. Gordon grabs the hose with one hand and uses his fingers to crawl along its length and reach a point of it further trapped within the doughy flesh. He gets as deep as he can till his arm is up to his shoulder in ass fat. From there Gordon takes a firm grip of the hose and begins to slowly tug backwards. He hears Ricky groan above him as it drags across his insides once again. When the giant man lets out a sigh of relief Gordon guesses the end of the long nozzle finally exited past his rim. He still gently extracts the rest of it till it's completely free from between Ricky’s gigantic cheeks.

While Gordon was busy doing that Mike began removing his clothes. Tossing his t-shirt to a random corner of the room and shamelessly shucking off his sweats and underwear in one swoop. He kicks them to the side and as he waits for Gordon to finish up Arthur returns to the room with a cart of food in tow.

The older man parks the cart right next to the bed and grabs one of the dishes on top of it. He’s about to hand it off to Ricky when he takes a second to realize the young man’s not really able to feed himself anymore. “Well, guess it’ll be hand feedings from here on out, huh boy?” Arthur comments as he leans over the bed and brings himself and the plate close to Ricky’s face. The enormous man doesn’t vocally reply, instead expectantly opening his mouth for the food in hand. Arthur rolls his eyes at Ricky with a fond smile as he feeds the young the first bite of his meal.

“Okay, you all set?” Gordon asks, regaining Mike's attention from the other men in the room. He stands ready as he spreads a generous dose of lube over a new nozzle that's been attached to the hose.

“Yup,” Mike responds before calling over to Ricky. “You ready to see Daddy get stuffed up?” Ricky manages to pull his attention away from the food being fed to him. His eyes now fixate on Mike, though he still opens his mouth and accepts every spoonful Arthur brings to his lips. 

With an amused chuckle Mike gives Gordon the signal to go ahead. Nodding, the blond comes down to one knee behind Mike. Using one hand to part the ample cheeks in front of him Gordon uses the other to tentatively press the nozzle of the hose against the ring of muscle. Gordon hears the man let out a sigh as he relaxes his muscles to let the head of it begin to invade him. Inch after inch slowly slips in with little resistance till roughly a foot of it is firmly planted inside. When Gordon’s done inserting the hose Mike lets out a shaky breath and leans forward with his hands on one of Ricky’s bed posts for support.

“You good?” Gordon gives one last check, wiggling the tank’s remote in his hands to imply the next step. With a nod from the other man Gordon activates the controls and sets the pump into motion.

The liquid hits Mike a lot sooner than he expected, now realizing most of the hose didn’t have to be filled like when they waited for Ricky. He feels the pressure of it start deep before steadily rising up into his stomach. Reaching full capacity causes the upper portion of his belly to bulge a little. After a second the pressure subsides and just before Mike can let out a relieved sigh it rises again. As Mike becomes accustomed to the cycling pressure he looks down to watch his expanding body.

The external bump of his stomach is quickly hidden under the new layers of fat on his swelling belly. It gradually loses its firm round shape, becoming soft and doughy with a divot forming that splits the bottom of it. His chest slowly loses what little definition it had, turning into full moobs that sit heavily over his stomach.

Mike’s upper arms and thighs take on the new fat much faster than the latter portions of his limbs, giving them a slightly unbalanced look. Every so often he has to adjust them, widening his stance and the angle he holds out his arms. Under his beard his neck starts to bulge out into a chunky ring, straining the movement of his head as he tires looking behind himself.

A couple sets of rolls have developed along his hairy back, respectively connecting around to his belly and chest. The largest spectacle behind him though was his ass. Like his thighs much more of his weight has settled into his ass, giving Mike a very over exaggerated pear shape.

“Okay, I think that’s good,” Mike calls over to Gordon. The blond man gives him a thumbs up and proceeds to turn off the pump. After a few seconds Mike feels the pressure finally subside, allowing him to regain his composure and right himself. The new weight throws him off for a moment but he quickly adjusts and becomes accustomed to it. 

“Now don’t you look handsome,” Arthur compliments as he approaches Mike. His hands roam over all the newly softened flesh of his partner. Feeling up his plump arms and thighs, lifting his full chest and heavy belly. Finally Arthur brings their lips together for a passionate kiss as his hands settle over Mike’s overly doughy rear. Fondling, jiggling, and kneading the malleable mounds to his heart’s content.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough ya horndog,” Mike chuckles as he breaks their kiss and playfully bats Arthur’s hands away. He tries reaching around himself to withdraw the hose, but he can’t quite reach it. His back rolls won’t let him turn like he used to, so the farthest he can grab of his sizable rear is the top cleft of his ass cheeks. “Help me with this thing will ya?” he asks with a nod behind himself.

“Sure thing hon,” Arthur replies with one last peck to the other man’s cheek. 

He steps around Mike and reaches for the hose protruding from his ass but pauses as he grabs it. A devious idea just popped into his head, and he immediately follows through with it. He holds Mike’s hip for leverage and slowly starts removing the invading object. Though when it’s roughly halfway out he promptly reverses its direction. This catches Mike by surprise, making the man let out a soft lewd moan at the sensation. Before he has a chance to respond Arthur proceeds further by subtly shaking the hose, causing its nozzle to wiggle around inside of Mike. The larger man’s legs turn weak from the teasing abuse of his prostate, forcing him to lean against Ricky’s bed again for support. After roughly a minute of this Arthur stops toying with Mike and completely removes the hose.

“Fuckin’... bastard…” Mike laughs through labored breaths. He quickly collects himself again and heads to the half emptied cart beside Ricky to finish off his meal. Though as he walks over he keeps his gaze locked on Arthur, plotting ways of getting even with him. 

“Alrighty, my turn,” Arthur declares over to Gordon as he lifts his shirt up over his head. Stripping further, he pulls the waistband of his pants down past his hips and ass, letting them drop the rest of the way on their own. He steps away from the discarded piece of clothing and bends over against the end of Ricky’s bed. His head lays in his arms while his pudgy belly and chest freely hang below him. With spread legs and his plump rump on full display he gives his ample rear a provocative shake, wiggling it back and forth.

“Shameless as ever,” Mike chuckles under his breath, amused with Arthur's little display. Arthur responds with his own chuckle before turning his head back to Gordon and telling him to go ahead.

Hose ready in hand, Gordon approaches and squats down by Arthur’s ass. Once more parting a sizable pair of cheeks for the pink ring hidden beneath. He gently probes the nozzle against it, easing the head of it to slip through. To Gordon’s surprise though once the tip of it has entered the surrounding muscles begin to coax the equipment deeper inside all on their own. Transfixed, the blond watches as inch after inch of the hose is slowly consumed by the insatiable hole. When it's down to the end of the nozzle Gordon gives the hose a cheeky little tug to let the man know to stop. With the hose secured Gordon takes the remote and sets the pump into motion.

“Ooo baby,” Arthur shivers as he lolls his head to the side, feeling the vaguely warm fluid begin to flood him. The sensation slowly climbs upwards till it hits its limit with his stomach at full capacity. Unfazed by the pressure inside himself Arthur lets out a relaxed sigh as the subtleties of growth begin to show.

Like rising dough every inch of Arthur slowly expands, though his position pools most of it downward. His billowing belly hangs lower and lower from his abdomen with each pulse of fattening fluid that enters him. His upper arms mimic its growth with gravity pulling them down as their volume increases. A good portion of the growth deposits itself into his soft chest. Making Arthur a little more top-heavy as they become exceedingly round and voluptuous.

Surprisingly, his plump ass and hips retain most of their shape. Expanding outwards rather than sagging down, though his legs probably assist that a lot. They’ve become massive pillars of support to hold up those monolithic spheres. Down below them his feet have swollen to develop cankles and the flesh of his calves threaten to overlap them.

His back looks like a developing landscape with all the ridges and rolls of fat that’ve grown along it. The hair across his body has started to become a little more sparse with his expanding flesh. His face begins to plump up too, giving him very chubby cheeks and another chin to frame his goatee.

When his breathing starts to turn labored and his legs begin to wobble from effort is when Arthur finally taps out. “Alright, that’s all I can take,” he concedes with a wave over his shoulder to Gordon. The other man promptly follows through with the request, using the remote to turn off the pump. Gordon kneels back down beside Arthur, waiting to see the shadow of the liquid recede down the hose before he begins to remove it. With a couple teasing wiggles the full length of the instrument is quickly extracted.

Now freed, Arthur begins to feel the weight of his newly enlarged body. With some effort he props his body up with his chunky arms. His tits really catch his attention with how prominently they obscure the view of his belly below them. A soft ‘ooo’ breaks his staring though, when Arthur looks up to see Ricky just as transfixed on his chest as he just was.

“See somethin’ ya like bud?” the older man coyly asks, using his hands up to lift and emphasize his breasts. Ricky gives a mindless nod in return with his encumbered hands twitching in a useless attempt to reach out and grab them. Amused, Arthur decides to take pity on him, lifting himself onto the bed right up to the young man. Now face to face with Arthur’s plump rack Ricky lets out a whine for the remaining distance to be closed.

“Please Papa~,” Ricky whines with a pleading glance up to the older man. Arthur laughs and rolls his eyes at the display, but gives into the plea anyway. 

Leaning forward into Ricky’s massive bulk Arthur envelopes Ricky’s head in his chest. The young man eagerly sniggles in, motorboating the two heavy sacks till his tongue comes out to taste the doughy flesh. After a minute, Arthur adjusts his chest so one of his nipples is right in front of Ricky’s mouth, to which the bed-bound man immediately latches onto. His lips work the sensitive skin around it while his tongue goes wild on its tip. 

Eventually Ricky calms down, content to gently suckle the pair of tits at his own leisure. Arthur relaxes into the moment as well. Tenderly combing his fingers through the young man’s hair and letting out the occasional soft moan as his nipples are played with.

While those two are occupied Mike makes his way around to Gordon who’s gathering up his equipment. “Here, let me help walk ya out,” Mike volunteers as he picks up a portion of the hose that’s at the room’s threshold. The pair work to gather its length through the house till they come to a stop at the front door.

“Well, I sure hope you guys enjoyed your delivery today,” Gordon remarks with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Oh we definitely did,” Mike chuckles. “I’m sure we’ll be shut-ins for the next week or two ‘enjoying’ or delivery,” he adds with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Good to hear. Also, I might recommend browsing our company’s clothing options,” Gordon cheekily responds with an obvious glance down to Mike’s enlarged figure.

“Yeah that might be a good idea,” Mike concedes, thinking how none of their wardrobes will remotely fit them anymore.

“Anyways, thank you for choosing ‘Build Your Bear’ and have a great rest of your day,” Gordon bids farewell with a tip of his cap as he leaves out the front door.

---

Well it's been roughly a year since my first 'Build Your Bear' story, so I thought it'd be right to follow through with the 'at home' services I eluded to back them. It was fun to revisit this world with a new batch of characters, and I'll definitely be back to it again with some new *holiday themed* ideas.

I'm really surprised how fast I wrote this story out, only took roughly a month and a half. Guess I had a good rhythm for it. Though there was a bit of a struggle in the beginning for solidifying a plot. I knew I wanted these characters, it was just deciding who I wanted to be fattened, how much, and their dynamic between each other. Like I thought of the inverse with three bear employees working together to really fatten up one guy. Another idea was the bears giving themselves over to a benefactor to live out a very pampered blobby life.

Maybe I could explore some of those avenues at a later point, but for now I'm happy with how this one turned out. Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope to post again sooner rather than later.

[hog-farmer]

The Pig’s Pen

‘Thank you for your time and consideration, unfortunately I think we will be pursuing other candidates…’

Those words played like a broken record in Shawn's head. Another job interview that's gone down the drain. It's been nearly three months since Shawn lost his last job due to layoffs. Since then he's tried applying everywhere he can, but obviously nothing has panned out. 

Now with his savings dipping below what he's comfortable with Shawn's search has started to turn a little desperate. He's been looking for jobs further out of town, like today's interview being nearly an hour drive away.

The interview itself had been a complete fiasco. They called him in the day of, so Shawn had to scramble to get ready. His reddish-brown hair was a little tousled, but Shawn thought it looked fine with how short it is. Long stubble frames his face since he didn't have a chance to trim it back.

His clothes were a problem all on their own. A simple pair of tan slacks and a dark green polo work fine for an interview. However, they're cutting it close in the size department. In recent years Shawn has gotten a little lax about watching what he eats. Resulting in his waistline slowly inching further out. He's already updated his wardrobe twice before and has been reluctant to do it a third, especially with a tighter budget.

Though now that reluctance has landed him with clothes that are obviously a size too small. The fabric along every seam of his pants looks stretched to their limit. Feeling way too tight and making his movements a little stiff. The waistband digs uncomfortably into his chubby sides with the straining pressure. Even the legs of his pants come down a little short with how stretched out they are around his chunky thighs.

Shawn's shirt is in the same situation. The hems of his short sleeves pinch into the fat of his upper arms, making them look puffier than they are. Though the worst offender of his wardrobe would be his belly. His shirt just barely manages to cover all of it, and in order to keep it from creeping upwards Shawn can't move his arms very much. If he raises his arms above his shoulders even slightly then a good inch of his lower belly will be exposed.

Besides his appearance Shawn ended up arriving there a couple minutes late due to traffic. It's not like that mattered though when they had him waiting for over an hour before they were ready for him. The person interviewing him also seemed to be completely uninterested throughout their entire interaction. Robotically running through a generic list of questions before professionally ending the interview.

Feeling rejected and frustrated Shawn only has one thing on his mind as he drives home. Drown his sorrows in some greasy takeout food. Forget his budget for a moment he needed something tasty and comforting.

As his car rolls through the long and windy back-roads between towns a diner flashes by. Shawn manages to catch a glimpse of it and contemplates if he wants to stop. A rumble from his stomach decides that answer for him. 

Maneuvering his car around Shawn backtracks and pulls into the small parking lot. There's only one other car parked out front, an old busted-up truck. The restaurant itself looks relatively average in size. A shingled roof and wooden exterior give the place a rustic western look. Over the entrance stands a big neon sign, shining the diner's name in a hazy glow.

‘The Pig's Pen’

Stepping out of his vehicle Shawn makes the short distance up to the front doors. Pushing past the threshold reveals that the interior matches that of the outside. Most everything is made out of darker woods, leather, metal. The decorations fit the aesthetic too, looking like every other generic roadside restaurant or diner. A couple TVs are fixed in the upper corners of the room with sports memorabilia and various road signs scattered about.

The layout of the dining area was shaped like an “L”. Wide booths line the front wall and continue along the extended space of the right. A counter runs parallel to the back wall with stools spaced about. Behind the counter space is a set of double doors and a little shuttered window space that presumably lead into the kitchen.

Shawn approaches the counter and gives the small call bell placed there a tap. The little ring it lets out is promptly followed by the sounds of someone shuffling around the kitchen. A moment later the doors are thrusted open by a sight that astounds Shawn.

The man that steps forth is nearly as wide as he is tall, standing a few inches taller than Shawn himself. However, what's more shocking is the skimpy clothing that's barely covering his giant form. Just a sliver of bright orange short-shorts can be seen hugging his doughy hips. The rest of his pants are hidden under the ginormous gut that hangs in front of him. Every movement of his billowing thighs causes his belly to jiggle in tandem. Around his deep smothered belly-button is a dense patch of hair that trails up his stomach towards his chest.

His ‘shirt’ functions more like a bra for the giant man as it only encompasses the heavy sacks of his chest. Its white fabric is so thinly stretched that his chest hair is vaguely visible underneath. Even the slightly darker skin around his thick nipples is noticeable through the material. The restaurant’s name is also written across it with a little cartoonish pig snout dotting the ‘i’.

Around the top hem of his shirt is discolored from what Shawn assumes is sweat and maybe some grease and condiments. A dense beard covers his round face, no doubt hiding another chin or two. Chubby cheeks are slightly blushed red, though Shawn can't tell if it's from the exertion of moving or if they're natural like that. His dirty blond hair is short, coming to a little spike up front. As he draws closer Shawn can feel the vibrations from his heavy footfalls.

“Hey there, name’s Wyatt,” the large man introduces as he lays a chunky arm over the counter. “How can I help ya?”

“I, uh, like to order something to eat,” Shawn manages to stammer out, still caught off guard by the other man’s appearance. 

With an amused huff Wyatt produces a menu from behind the counter and sets it in front of Shawn. “Ha, sure. Anything I can start you off with?” 

“Uh, just a root beer will be fine,” Shawn supplies as quickly locates and chooses from the menu’s beverage section. As the wide man turns to the back counter to prepare the drink Shawn gets a good look at Wyatt from behind.

His ass is like two massive globes bound tightly together in the vibrant fabric of his shorts. Between their skimpy size and his sheer mass the top and bottom of his fuzzy ass spill out a good few inches. Along with that are the bands of an off-white jockstrap clearly visible beyond the confines of the shorts.  About half of his back rolls are exposed with the uppermost portion snuggly packed into his tiny shirt. Up close there's a sheen of perspiration across his whole body. 

“Now, what can I get for ya?” Wyatt asks as he deposits a filled glass in front of the smaller man. His question rattles Shawn out of his ogling, making him realize he hasn't picked anything to eat yet. With an awkward blush Shawn rapidly skims the menu and chooses the first thing he sees that sounds good.

“The, uh, ‘big boy burger’, please,” Shawn double checked to make sure he read it correctly.

“Great choice, I'll have that right out for ya,” Wyatt winks before shuffling his way back into the kitchen. 

Now alone Shawn takes a few sips of his soda in hopes of cooling his heated cheeks. However, his solitude doesn't last long with Wyatt reemerging only a few minutes later. Balancing in his arms and hands are three food platters that he unceremoniously plops onto the counter. Each tray has a giant, greasy-looking cheeseburger with a big mound of curly fries sitting right next to it.

“Oh, I-I only ordered one,” Shawn falters, surprised by the additional trays in front of him.

“Oh they're not for you, they're for me,” Wyatt corrects. “Thought I'd sit down and join ya,” the large man continues as he pulls over a stool and settles his weight down onto it. 

Reaching out his pudgy arms, Wyatt brings one of the burgers to his waiting mouth. As he takes a large bite, grease starts oozing from its two patties. Some of the juices trail down his plump fingers, but most of it runs down his chin, soaking into his bushy beard. Shawn catches himself staring again, so he quickly diverts his eyes down to the food in front of him. Awkwardly grasping the large burger with both his hands Shawn brings it up to his own mouth. It's a little hard to stretch his mouth wide enough for a bite, but well worth it when the flavor of it hits his tongue. With a satisfied sigh Shawn picks up the pace as he starts devouring his burger.

“Sho, what's a fella like you doin’ out here?” Wyatt asks through a mouthful of fries, bringing Shawn’s attention back onto him. 

“I-uh, had a job interview in the next town over,” Shawn replies after swallowing his current bite, nodding his head in the general direction he just drove from. “...and it didn’t exactly turn out stellar,” he mutters with an annoyed tone and expression after recalling the day’s events.

“Ha, yeah, that sounds about right. Hard to get a good job nowadays,” the chucky man consoles as he drops another fistful of fries into his hungry maw. “I’m lucky I got this nice cushy job workin’ here,” he adds as he slides a now-empty tray aside in favor of bringing the untouched one closer.

“What's it like working here?” Shawn wonders out loud as he pops one of his curly fries into his mouth.

“Oh it's the best,” Wyatt enthusiastically states before listing off his favorite aspects.  “Free meals whenever I want, not much business ‘round here so it's pretty lax most of the time, and the pay is pretty good too for not havin’ to do much.”

“And, uh… What about the… outfit?” Shawn bashfully decides to questions

“”What about it?” Wyatt asks in a coy manner.

“It's-uh, a little revealing,” Shawn clarifies.

“Yeah, bossman wanted somethin’ eye-catching that’ll bring in the customers,” Wyatt explains with a wink as he brings his hands up to give his plump chest a little jiggle. The teasing action causes the rest of Shawn’s face to completely flush red. “Plus it's pretty nice for the warmer months and dealing with all the heat in the kitchen,” the large man nonchalantly adds, unfazed by his customer’s reaction.

The pair fall back into silence after that, returning their focus back onto their respective meals. Wyatt plows through the rest of his second tray, leading to him licking his finders clean of salt and grease while Shawn meanders through the last few bites of his burger. With the last piece swallowed, Shawn closes his eyes and lets out a satisfied huff. As he opens his eyes again he’s met with an expectant look from Wyatt.

“So, can I interest you in some dessert?” the big man asks with the quirk of an eyebrow.

“What’ve you got? Shawn responds after a moment of contemplation.

“Oh I’ve got a cake that I’m sure you’ll love. That sound good to you?” Wyatt emphatically recommends. Wordlessly Shawn nods along in agreement. “Great, just give me a sec and I’ll have that right out for ya,” he brightly continues as he steps back into the kitchen.

Shawn lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding with the other man out of the room. However, his reprieve is only momentary as Wyatt bursts back in through the double doors. Instead of approaching Shawn though he makes his way over to the gap in the counter that leads behind it. As he steps through the threshold Shawn realizes something that makes his eyes go wide and his breath catch in his throat.

Wyatt’s naked from the waist down.

The bright orange shorts and jockstrap bands are no longer tightly constricting his wide hips and chunky thighs. Now they’re open and free, though there's vague imprints from where they once were. His swaying belly still offers him a level of modesty though as it obscures his private parts. Shawn’s mouth is left agape as he watches the half-naked stride through the dining room. He makes his way over to the booth behind Shawn, his bare feet meeting the tiled floor with a meaty thud with every step. As Wyatt reaches the table he picks up and drops his stomach over its edge before hiking up his right leg onto the booth’s cushioned seat. With that, Wyatt tilts himself forward over the table as he reaches back with his right hand to pull back the doughy flesh of his asscheek.

“Here's your cake sir~,” Wyatt seductively says, glancing back at Shawn with a subtle sway of his hips.

Entirely paralyzed, Shawn is awestruck by the sight in front of him. Regardless, he still feels himself get up on shaky legs and slowly approach the giant man. As he reaches the other he tentatively lays a hand on the monstrous ass presented to him.

“Don't be shy. Dig in~,” Wyatt softly coaxes as he pushes his ass back more towards Shawn. Emboldened by his encouragement, Shawn steadily lowers himself down to his knees. Bringing his face directly level with Wyatt’s puckered hole. The soft pink ring twitches in anticipation as Shawn’s hot breaths ghost over the sensitive flesh. Extending his tongue, Shawn gently drags it up over Wyatt’s waiting entrance. 

This elicits a long moan to come from Wyatt, who releases his right cheek in favor of burying his face into his arms and chest. As Shawn’s tongue circles and probes Wyatt’s hole he brings his hands up to knead and spread the giant mounds of adipose that frame his face.

For several minutes Shawn loses himself in the joys of ravaging Wyatt’s delicious ‘cake’. Throughout that time Wyatt’s hardy moans eventually tapir off into high breathless whimpers as his pleasure starts to boil over. Soon enough his loosened ring of muscle is clamping down onto Shawn’s invading tongue as his orgasm washes over him. Spurts of cum drool and leak from deep in his fatpad onto the floor below him. 

As Wyatt stands up on unsteady legs Shawn dislodges himself from between the fat man’s giant cheeks. His hair's a little disheveled from his and Wyatt’s sweat and there's a glossy ring of saliva left around his mouth.

“Hoo boy, that…that was good,” Wyatt comments through heavy breaths, still reeling from his orgasm. Shawn himself lets out a breathless chuckle as he stands up from his spot on the ground. Pausing in place for a moment Wyatt looks at Shawn with a contemplative face, mulling over an idea forming in his head. “Hey, you said you was lookin’ for a job, right? How ‘bout ya try workin’ around here?”

“Really?” Shawn asks, surprise and disbelief plainly written across his face.

“Yeah. Though I’d have to run it by the bossman first, but I’m sure he’d love to have ya us,” the large man confirms. “Just let me go ask him real quick,” Wyatt excitedly adds with a nod to the kitchen as he heads over there himself. 

As he disappears behind the doors Shawn waits by idly fixing up his appearance. Wiping away the dampness over his face and taming his hair to look a little more orderly. After a couple minutes of stewing in his own nerves the anxious man finally sees Wyatt partially step out from the kitchen to wave at him to come in. Shawn eagerly darts behind the counter and follows after Wyatt into the other room.

Before he stepped into that kitchen Shawn had thought Wyatt was the fattest man he’d ever met. That statement is now proven false when presented with the expansive canvas of pale flesh waiting back here. 

The two lard-packed mountains that make up the man's ass are almost entirely enveloping the bench-like seats below him. Shawn wonders if the humongous man can even walk with his knees so thoroughly wedged between his monstrous thighs and rolling calves. His feet can barely even be seen with his calf fat nearly touching the floor around them.

Along his back are multiple rolls of billowing flesh that wrap around his sides. Each of them connect into the segments that make up his vast belly. It’s blatantly the largest part of him as it fills any possible vacant space between his thunderous legs, along with some of it pooling onto the floor. Over his belly are the massive, shapeless sacks of his chest, slowly rising and falling with his heavy breathing. 

Laying over his long-buried sternum is the only thing close to clothing on his person, an apron. It's clearly made for the average sized man, so on him it uselessly sits across a tiny patch of his flesh. The neck-strap of it is lost under the ring of fat that connects his fat chin and puffy cheeks. A salt-and-pepper shadow of stubble frames his mouth as it trails up the sides into a silvery-gray buzzcut.

The fat of his over-encumbered arms pools over his chest as he reaches out to his task at hand. With a spatula in one of his chunky hands he cooks several burgers over a smooth grill top. His belly is smothered against almost the entire front side of the appliance with how far forward he has to lean his bulk to safely reach. As he notices Shawn enter his kitchen he casts a side glance between him and Wyatt.

“This the runt you was tellin’ me about?” a gruff voice comes from the blob-like man. 

“Yes sir, I’d say he’s perfect to work here,” Wyatt brightly confirms. A contemplative hum comes from the bigger man before he nods his head at Shawn to approach him. Hesitantly, the young man does as instructed, stepping towards the large mass of a man. As he does so the huge man passes his utensil into his off-hand before extending his main one for Shawn to shake.

“Name’s Frank,” the colossal man introduces as their hands briefly lock. “Wyatt tells me ya got a good appetite on ya.”

“I-uh, yes sir,” Shawn fumbles for a second.

“Well you’re gonna need more than that to work here. I wanna see how you are in a kitchen,” Frank sternly says. “So, I want you to whip up an order for me.”

“Uhm, what do you want me to make?” Shawn nervously inquiries. The giant man pauses for a moment, quietly choosing something before voicing his response.

“Pigs in a blanket. Get to it,” Frank decides with a dismissive nod back into the kitchen.

“Oh! Great, yeah I can do that,” the smaller man eagerly agrees to the simple recipe. 

Now with a goal in mind Shawn takes off further into the kitchen to look for the ingredients he'll need. He starts by investigating the fridges, carefully skimming each of their shelves. However, Shawn doesn't find anything helpful there. Moving onto the freezers below them yields the same result.

A little lost, Shawn wanders around the room for a moment before locating the deep-freezer set up in the back. He scans its contents nearly three times before conceding that his desired ingredients aren't there. Slightly panicked, Shawn begins backtracking out of desperation. He even throws open every pantry door he comes across, though none of them have what he's looking for.

“Where's the shit to make this!?” Shawn seethes through a hushed voice as he dashes back over to Wyatt.

“What’d ya mean? You alrighty got everything ya need,” Wyatt quietly responds back with a little chuckle.

“What???” Shawn asks, confused and exasperated. In response the big man playfully rolls his eyes before elaborating.

“Ya take whatever ‘hotdog’ ya got on hand,” Wyatt slowly emphasizes. “And wrap it in some nice soft dough,” he finishes with a not-so-subtle nod over to Frank. Shawn stares blankly back at the other man before a heated blush paints his face as he processes the innuendo. 

“Seriously?” Shawn uncertainty asks.

“Ooh yeah~” Wyatt confirms with a cheeky grin. 

With that, Shawn begins to hesitantly approach Frank again. He makes his way around the wide man before coming to a stop directly behind him. In front of him is the deep, sweaty crevice that bisects the massive mounds of his ass. From where he’s sitting the top crest of it comes up to his chest. Shawn carefully lays one of his hands against the expansive flesh, tentatively waiting for the giant man to say something. When no response is given Shawn brings up his other hand and starts to gently knead circles into the twin piles of lard.

“Took ‘em long enough,” Shawn vaguely hears Frank mutter as his hands begin to slowly inch their way deeper. His forearms are swallowed up halfway before he feels his hands brush up against Frank’s rear entrance. It feels soft and slick from all the heat and sweat built up back there. When Shawn gently prods a finger against the ring of muscle he’s met with no resistance as his digit freely glides in up to his knuckle.

A low moan resonates from deep in Frank, encouraging Shawn to progress further. Smoothly removing one of his hands from between the giant cheeks Shawn fiddles with the button and zipper on his pants, dropping them along with his boxers. With his lower section now exposed Shawn reinserts his free hand back into the crevice before using all the strength he has to part the heavy mounds. 

The hot, lardy flesh slowly peels back from each other till Frank’s twitching entrance is exposed. Leaning his body against one of the fatty walls, Shawn frees up his right hand to grasp his leaking cock and aim it towards the loose deep-pink ring. He shuffles himself closer and carefully slides his aching member all the way through, down to his base. As he feels the muscles around him start to twitch and constrict Shawn begins to shallowly pump his hips

“Aaah Yesss!~” Frank booms as he finally feels Shawn drag against his inner walls. “Been a while since I’ve had a good dicking. Wyatt’s fatpad won’t let his prick anywhere close to my ass anymore.”

Shawn lets out a laugh, caught off-guard by Frank’s remark and the image it created in his head. Refocusing on the task at hand Shawn relaxes his arms, letting Frank’s expansive ass envelope most of his torso as he rests his limbs over top of them. His erratic thrusting draws various sounds and curses from the titanic man, from breathless panting to tightly pitched moans.

Eventually Shawn starts to grow tired from fighting against the heavy flesh around him. Intent on finishing, he picks up the pace and intensity of his thrusts till he feels himself spill deep into Frank’s monstrous ass. The two men are left panting and covered in sweat, or more so in Frank’s case. After a moment Shawn slips himself free as he backs up and comes around to face the giant man.

“Phew, that was good boy,” Frank sighs as he looks down at Shawn. “Consider yourself hired.”

—

*Several Years Later*

—

“Alrighty, see you guys later! Come back again soon,” Shawn calls out to the pair of men as they leave the restaurant. With a tired huff Shawn begins to tidy up the counter space to close up for the night.

The past couple of years have been very fulfilling for Shawn, for both his life and waistline. Clad in the restaurant’s signature uniform, his now chunky body fills it out very nicely. His shirt ends about halfway down his belly, letting his prominent gut freely hang out in front of him. Tiny tears have formed along the sides of his brightly colored shorts. Signaling their losing battle against billowing thighs, as well as his need for the next size up. His face has filled out more, with a second chin starting to form right under the first one. He’s also let his beard grow out more, though he still keeps it trimmed to frame his face.

With the last of the tables and counter wiped down Shawn gathers up the dirty trays and dishes and brings them back into the kitchen. Bumping through the double doors Shawn tossed a greeting over to Wyatt by the grill.

“Hey Wyatt, ready to wrap up for the night?” Shawn asks as he deposits the platters by the sink. The response he gets a gurgled one that Shawn can barely make out the syllables of. As the plump man turns around the reason for the obstruction is revealed.

Parked in front of the grill is Wyatt who’s size now closely rivals that of Frank when Shawn was first hired. Completely naked with a rear big enough to nearly fill two benches and a belly that just about touches the floor when he sits. His puffy cheeks are currently packed full with the remnants of a double cheeseburger as he struggles to chew. Grease dribbles out from the sides of his mouth, soaking into the roots of his shaggy beard. Little particles of the burger slip past his slightly parted lips as he tries to talk through the burger.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Shawn requests as the larger man finally swallows his food.

“I said I’m just finishing off some leftovers,” Wyatt clarifies with a chuckle as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“C’mon, let's get goin’,” Shawn laughs as he approaches Wyatt to help get him up. After a few failed attempts they manage to get the massive man on his feet. Now upright Wyatt shuffles his way through the dining room and out the front entrance. With each set of doors in his way Wyatt uses his giant belly as a plow to force them open. Shawn follows closely behind him, turning off lights and appliances before locking the doors on their way out. 

The pair make their way over to an old pick-up truck, its color’s faded with the years and some rust runs along its edges. Shawn helps Wyatt hoist himself into the back, taking another couple of tries for the large man to fully get in the truck’s bed. With Wyatt secured Shawn hops into the driver seat and puts the key in the ignition.

“Can’t believe this thing’s still kickin’,” Shawn mutters to himself as the vehicle starts with no problem.

“Lasted longer than your piece of scrap!” Wyatt victoriously retorts from behind, having caught what Shawn said. 

After rolling his eyes the smaller man proceeds to put the car in drive and take off. They’re not on the road for long, less than five minutes till they pull off onto a gravel road leading to a shabby-looking house. Shawn parks the car as close to the building as he can before stepping out to help unload Wyatt and usher him into the house.

“Frankie! We’re home!” Wyatt calls out as they step through the threshold.

“‘Bout time you two got back, I’m wasting away over here!” Frank sarcastically shouts back from his spot in the living room. 

Like the other two men Frank has grown significantly over the last few years. The amount of lard encasing his legs has rendered him immobile since he can no longer bend any joints along them. The only parts he can move are his toes, and even that's hard with how puffy his feet have gotten. 

Even if his legs could bend they probably wouldn’t be able to support his weight anymore, considering how massive his ass and stomach have gotten. They lay spread out behind and in front of him respectively. His belly is so large it forces Frank’s legs into a near full split in order to comfortably accommodate it

He can still move around his barrel-sized arms, but that skill is getting harder with his chunky side rolls and bloated chest. The fat of his shoulders nearly reaches his ears, soon to lock his head in place between them and his many neck rolls. Grooming is hard to keep up with, so his hair has really grown out, forming a greasy mane on his head and a beard that covers most of his chins. That along with hygiene as his many folds  get very sweaty easily.

“Alrighty, I’ll go get things started in the kitchen,” Shawn declares before turning to Wyatt. “You two entertain yourselves while I’m busy,” he says as he walks over to his destination. With a cheeky grin Wyatt heads over to the unmoving man, waddling right up to his side before leaning forward and letting his weight crash down onto the other.

“Oof. Careful there boy, I ain’t a mattress you can ju- just~,” Frank tries chastising before being cut off by his own moaning. Where Wyatt landed on him put the smaller man’s mouth right next to Frank’s sagging tit, so of course he immediately latched himself to the sensitive flesh. He fluctuates between circling the nipple with his tongue and softly pinching with his teeth. Frank moans and sighs through labored breaths as the peak of his chest is played with. 

Eventually Wyatt starts to zone off, content to suckle on Frank’s tit and knead the warm, soft flesh underneath him. Though after a moment, Wyatt doesn’t hear Frank making any noises anymore. Confused, he looks up to see the reason why.

Laying across Frank’s Chest is Shawn, who's holding a feeding tube up to the colossal man’s lips and softly encouraging him to chug the fattening slurry he made up for him. Smiling around the nipple still in his mouth Wyatt slowly rests his head back against Frank’s comfy fat and drifts off to sleep.

---

Jeez, I had total writer’s block trying to get through this idea. That, and the usual procrastination that comes when I try to write a story. I completely scrapped the original plot (which I already had over 3k words for) and reworked it into this.

Initially it was supposed to be like my ‘reverse restaurant’ idea, more of a fat-boy hooters kind of place where the customers would either be really gluttonous or feed the staff the meals they ordered. With some sexual flair of course ;) Though I could not for the life of decide how to write the main character’s (Shawn’s) reactions to things around him; aghast but finding himself secretly aroused by everything.

So I took the parts I liked from that draft and reworked it into this, and honestly I think it comes out better for it. Maybe I might post the draft one day if enough people are interested?

Regardless, I’m just glad to have another story finally finished. So like always, I hope you all enjoyed it and I’ll see y’all later.

[hog-farmer]

Absolutely love how this turned out, thanks again Lokitu.

I was commissioned by Hog-Farmer to make an illustration for his story Build Your Bear. In the story, Billy takes his partner Jason to be ballooned up into his very own huge blubbery bear. You can find the story at https://www.tumblr.com/hog-farmer/719110529415823360/build-your-bear

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[hog-farmer]

Power Hungry

Soft, mist-like rain fills the air as deep gray clouds linger overhead. A hooded figure treks along the uneven sidewalk, stepping around any shallow puddles that have started to form. Stopping before a small house the figure takes a quick glance at the phone in his pocket before he turns to approach it. Walking up the narrow driveway towards the house’s side door. He gives the door a quick firm knock before it's opened by the occupant inside.

“Hey, you Tom?” The guy peeks his head out the door to ask.

“Yup, Ben?” Tom affirms and questions in return. With a nod Ben opens the door all the way and gestures for Tom to come inside. 

Slipping through the doorway, Tom pulls back the hood of his jacket to unveil his short scruffy brown hair. His facial hair matches its unkempt nature, looking a little too long and ungroomed. Removing the rest of his jacket Tom hangs it on a rack while kicking his shoes off by the entrance. All that's left on him is a simple T-shirt and a pair of loose shorts.

Ben is similarly dressed down, wearing a plain red shirt with some gray sweatpants on his lower half. His hair is close in color, only a few shades lighter and better kept with a goatee framing his mouth. He stands about half a head shorter than his guest, his eyes barely coming up to the other's mouth. However, Ben is much wider with an overall chubby figure compared to Tom's soft untoned one.

The two men awkwardly stand in the entryway for a few moments, Ben idly fidgeting with his nerves while Tom silently looks around. The place is fairly small with its whole layout visible from where they're standing. A living room to his left and a dining room to the right with a kitchen connecting them on their far ends. A staircase sits in the middle of everything, leading to the upper floor.

“Sooo… Shall we get started?” Tom casually suggests, breaking the silence. 

“A-ah yeah, yeah let's… uh, head upstairs,” Ben sputters as he points back to the stairs. It takes the shorter man a second to get going as he realizes he should lead. 

Guiding his guest to the second floor and around to his bedroom. Like the floor below it's a modest size with a queen sized bed taking up most of the space with some secondhand furniture along the walls. It's relatively clean save for the unmade bed and the occasional piece of discarded clothing.

“So… how, how do we do this?” Ben sheepishly asks as Tom browses around his room.

“Ya got an open outlet around here?” Tom inquires as he turns his focus back to Ben. The nervous man quickly responds with a nod and directs him over to the far side of the room. Between his dresser and a desk is an unoccupied outlet that's positioned about a foot from the floor.

Tom heads over and kneels down beside it, slowly raising one hand towards it. Once he's less than an inch away a small spark of electricity jumps from the outlet to meet his index finger. He pulls his hand back and looks it over, rolling his fingers together as he does so. Satisfied, Tom nods and brings his hand back to the outlet. The electricity reaches for him again before its crackling is muffled underneath his hand. 

Over his shoulder Ben curiously watches, waiting for a response from the crouched man when he notices Tom’s abdomen. It's subtle at first but Ben can see the flesh down there begin to expand. His untoned stomach slowly rounds out, filling the unoccupied space under his loose shirt. Soon the growing pudge begins to creep downward, rolling over the waist of his pants onto his lap. Just as a little sliver of his stomach exposes itself from under his shirt Tom breaks the silence.

“Pretty cool right?” Tom says with a smirk and flirty eyes.

“I- Yeah,” Ben breathlessly responds as he approaches and crouches next to Tom. “How is this possible?” he questions out loud, though mostly to himself in amazement.

“Not sure, just something I’ve always been able to do,” Tom admits. “Honestly though, I only really found out about it when my friends dared me to shove a fork into an outlet when we were like ten”.

“Seriously?!” Ben sputters with a laugh caught off-guard.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen it. Fuse blew and suddenly I went from a stringbean to the chubby kid at school,” Tom described, garnering another laugh from Ben. “Though that's not all I can do,” he continues as he suggestively waves the fingers of his free hand towards Ben.

Ben’s laughter dies down as his nerves return with a blush across his face. Bashfully avoiding eye contact he nods his head in agreement as he scoots closer to Tom. Ben slightly twitches in anticipation as the taller man gently rests his hand over his clothed belly. He feels his nerves start to slip away as Tom starts rubbing circles with his hand. After a few seconds, Tom begins to work his hand downward till he can slip his hand underneath Ben’s shirt. The other man eases into his touch as Tom glides his hand over the soft hairs across his stomach.

As Tom plays with Ben’s belly his own growth has come to a stop, pausing just as his hips started to slip out and become a little muffin top. However, a new growth has started in Ben. As his eyes follow Tom’s hand a shudder runs through Ben’s body as he notices his stomach has started to fill out. His once baggy shirt slowly becomes more fitted till he decides to ditch the fabric by pulling it off over his head. Tossing his shirt aside Ben leans back on his hands as he loses himself in the sensation of his expanding stomach under Tom’s skillful touch.

While Ben relaxes and enjoys his budding growth Tom manages to slip off one of his socks with his feet. He swiftly brings it up to the outlet to replace his hand and keep the current going. Now with one hand free he discards his remaining sock before awkwardly maneuvering his shirt up his body. Once he has it over his head Tom removes his hand from Ben to toss it aside before he brings both hands back down to feel up Ben’s exposed belly.

Now with two hands roaming over his doughy flesh Ben eases further into contentment with a drawn out moan. This eggs Tom on to explore Ben’s body further, gliding his hands up to cup the growing man’s filling chest. What starts as a light fondling quickly turns into strong groping of the soft flesh, eliciting more moans from Ben as Tom pays special attention to his widening nipples. As the hands leave his chest Ben sighs in relief before he's suddenly on his back and dragged closer to Tom who smashes his mouth over one of his tits. His breathing turns laborious from Tom’s rolling tongue and the tight suction of his lips locked around the sensitive skin.

After a couple minutes Ben’s pants start to feel uncomfortable, especially around his waist. Not wanting to disturb Tom, Ben tries to subtly take them off, but it's a harder task than it once was. He can barely reach the waistband as he tries bending his puffed up arms against his billowing side rolls. Tom notices his struggles and without warning quickly flips Ben onto his big stomach. With his ass now propped up Tom aggressively tugs the fat man’s pants down his legs, leaving him fully exposed. 

Ben only has a moment to reel from the sudden manhandling before he feels Tom’s wet tongue glossing over his hole. With a shiver Ben’s body goes completely pliant, relaxing all his muscles and dropping his head down into his chest below him. Tom now abandons the outlet in favor of focusing all his attention on ravishing Ben’s overfilled ass. With his mouth busy at the obese man’s hole Tom uses his hands to massage the jiggling flesh around his head. Squeezing and kneading the soft doughy flesh while also sprinkling in a few hardy slaps every so often. 

Eventually, Tom hooks his arms around Ben’s expansive thighs, firmly gripping his legs before he drives his tongue in as deep as he can get it. A wanton moan escapes Ben as he tries helping by forcing his ass back. With heavy breaths Tom finally removes his face from in between Ben’s cheeks. The prone man looks back as he see’s Tom, now back to his original size, trying to shuck off his pants as fast as possible.

“Lube?”

“N-nightstand,” Ben quickly huffs out.

Tom steps around him, heading for the stand by his bed. Shoving the drawer open he rummages through its contents before snatching out a tiny container of lube. Resuming his position behind Ben, Tom pops the cap of the bottle and squeezes a generous portion of lube onto his fingers. He glides them around Ben’s hole for a moment before slowly easing one of his digit’s into the ring of muscle. Ben feels himself twitch and tighten at the intrusion till he relaxes and allows Tom to invade him further. After the first finger is in Tom works it around for a bit and eventually adds a second one.

“O-ok, t-that's good,” Ben shakily says.

“You sure?” Tom checks.

“Y-yes, just- just take me,” the fat man sighs as he slumps his face back into his pooling chest.

With confirmation, Tom retracts his fingers and uses the lube still coating them on his dick. He teases the head of his appendage against Ben’s slick entrance, rolling circles around it till he begins easing it in. Ben feels the slow drag of it through his inner walls till Tom finally bottoms out. After giving Ben a moment to adjust and accommodate to the intrusion Tom starts to shallowly thrust. He gets a steady rhythm going, his hips meeting Ben’s ass with an audible slap every time. A few minutes of this pass and Tom decides to kick it up a notch. Gradually increasing the speed and force of his thrusts till Ben is a moaning mess. Eventually, Tom hears the fat man let out a deep groan and feels his inner muscles spasm and contract around him, letting him know his partner just came. Now Tom chases his own release, pumping fast till he collapses on top of Ben and spills himself deep inside him.

Exhausted, the two men are left panting as a sweaty pile of flesh. Their faces red as they come down from their high with Tom still firmly lodged inside of Ben. As Tom catches his breath he comes up with a cheeky idea. Glancing back at the outlet he stealthily maneuvers his nearest leg over to it. It's quite the stretch but he manages to touch the outlet with his foot again without Ben noticing. With that, Tom can feel the chunky man below him steadily expanding again. After a brief few minutes of growth the ass below him starts forcing him out from their sheer volume. Soon the growth stops again when he can’t reach the outlet and his member slips out of Ben.

“Well, that was great,” Tom comments as he gives Ben’s ass a pat before standing.

“Your tellin’ me. That was amazing,” Ben agrees as he finally manages to catch his breath. Planting his arms on the ground Ben tries to pick himself up, only to move a couple inches before flopping back down. He's momentarily confused before remembering the new amount of weight he just put on. After a few more awkward struggles Tom decides to lend the fat man a hand and help haul his bulk into a standing position.

“Like your new figure?” Tom asks as he steps back and watches Ben find his balance.

“Oh yeah, I'm lovin’ this,” Ben affirms, gripping the sides of his larger belly and shaking it for emphasis. The pale expanse of it ripples and smacks against his meaty thighs with an audible plap.

“Cool, we should do this again sometime,” Tom suggests as he starts throwing his clothes back on. 

“Definitely. Though I should really go get washed up now. Starting to feel a little sticky,” Ben comments as he gestures down to his glossy rolls.

“Ha, alright. I'll see ya around,” Tom waves as heads for the door.

“See ya,” Ben replies as he carefully waddles his way over to his bedroom’s attached bathroom.

Down the steps to the main floor Tom lands himself in the tiny entryway. Retrieving his shoes and jacket he slips his belongings back onto his person as he steps up to the door. As he pulls it back by the handle Tom's confronted with much more violent weather than when he arrived.

The once light rain has turned hard and heavy as it's whipped around by harsh howling winds. Dense dark clouds hang overhead, barely visible with the little light left in the evening. Besides the pelting precipitation the only other noise that can remotely be heard is the bellowing thunder rolling up above. Muttering a curse Tom rolls his eyes at the inconvenience as he tugs the hood of his jacket tightly over his head. Ducking out through the door Tom keeps his head slightly tilted with a hand over his eyes to fend off as much rain as he can from his face. He takes long strides down the sidewalk, trying to cover as much distance as he can without haphazardly running. 

It only takes a few minutes out in these conditions for Tom to be thoroughly soaked and cold. His clothes feel weighed down as they uncomfortably cling to his now damp body. Worst of all are his shoes as they’ve been waterlogged by the countless puddles. Every step Tom takes is accompanied by a loud irritating squelch. The high winds cut right through him now, chilling him and making his teeth start to chatter.

!!!CRASH!!!

Suddenly, everything around Tom seems to come to a stop. It's all lit up as bright as a sunny day, but the pitch-black clouds still blanket the sky. The rain around him has come to a frozen pause, suspended in the air as countless little streaks. He doesn’t feel the cold anymore, though now it's been replaced by an insufferable heat. Frozen himself, Tom begins to wonder what's going on when an intense pain radiates through his whole body. All his muscles tighten and a prickling numbness spreads over his skin. Tom initially thinks he’s been hit by a truck or something even larger and he’s living out his death in slow motion. However, when an ear-shattering boom breaks the silence of the paused moment Tom realizes what's actually hit him.

After that, time resumed just as quickly as it had stopped. Light fell back into the darkness and the fierce rain continued its assault on the land below. Everything was back to how it was, the only thing different was Tom himself. 

Where the average man once stood has now been replaced by a giant mound of flesh. The miniscule weight of damp clothing has been shredded in exchange for the suffocating pressure of thousands of pounds of pure fat. A monolithic stomach spreads far out along the ground in front of him. Framing its sides are his legs that've been buried under countless layers of adipose. They connect back into his expansive rear, where each cheek is roughly the size of a car and could easily crush one. His chest has turned into billowing sacks of fat that droop slightly to his sides as they rest over his titanic belly. They rise and fall with every laborious breath Tom takes. His hands are just about completely submerged under the fat of his arms, their puffy digits barely visible. Locking his head in place are rippling rings of fat that once was his neck.

Besides his hot breath coming out in thick puffs the only thing Tom can see are his bulbous cheeks and first chin that frame his mouth. Disoriented, his mind feels clouded with an incessant buzzing that won’t stop. He can’t focus on or think of anything with it drowning out everything else. 

Soon, a deep-seated gnawing starts rising up within the pit of his stomach. An empty feeling that overtakes everything about his gigantic being. He can start to hear the buzzing that was in his head coming from somewhere in the distance. His new hunger fixates on that noise, making it the only thing wants. Tom isn’t sure how, but he can vaguely feel the buried muscles of his legs beginning to move. 

Slow thunderous steps shake the ground as his humongous form is dragged across it. Mindlessly moving forward his body bulldozes over everything in its path. Streetlights and trees are toppled and crushed by his girth as he lumbers at a trickling pace. 

Eventually, Tom finds himself in front of what was calling out to his insatiable appetite. The power plant on the outskirts of town, or more specifically, its high-voltage transformer and power lines right outside it. So close to his goal Tom’s mouth begins to salivate as he draws nearer. Slowly plowing over the chain-link fence and finally crashing into the structure. 

Metal bends and breaks around him with cables and wires snapping from the tension. Sparks of dense electricity fly freely for a moment before it all starts to be absorbed by Tom’s prone form. He feels that now blissful buzzing clouding his mind once more as the gnawing pit in his stomach is gradually satiated. A swelling starts pulsing through his gelatinous body, steadily growing in volume as he lays there amongst the rubble. More of the structure is destroyed as his pale form steadily expands outward.

Unbeknownst to Tom the sound of a siren blares in the distance as a cop car approaches. Skidding to a halt by the ruined structure an officer exits the vehicle with confused expression on his face. He paces forward carefully through the still raging storm as he tries to decipher what's happening.

“Uh, not sure what I’m lookin’ at here guys,” he says into the receiver clipped to his chest. The only response he manages to receive though is unintelligible and buried in static. Deciding to investigate further on his own, the officer slowly walks up to the nearest section of the creeping mass. Bringing an inquisitive hand forward the officer tentatively rests his hand against it to feel it.

As his hand makes contact a heavy jolt runs up his arm and sends him stumbling back. Knocked down to the damp ground the policeman tries processing what just hit him. After a second he tries standing up, only to be met with resistance. Confused, the officer looks down at himself before he freezes in horror. Pinning him down is his own stomach that's grown big enough to burst out the confines of his shirt and jacket. Frantically checking the rest of himself the policeman finds that he’s been fattened up all over. Flabby arm fat has torn his sleeves and his chunky thighs have caused the seams along the side of his pants to completely split.

Too fixated on his now swollen form the officer doesn’t notice Tom’s still growing mass slowly approaching him. Once he feels the familiar jolt of the expansive pile of flesh again he tries his best to flail and get away. His efforts soon prove futile as his body starts fattening up again, weighing him down further. As the last shreds of his uniform tear from his figure he desperately makes a grab for his receiver. 

“Help! Help! Officer Down! Offfiiccerr Dowww…”

---

Wow, I rode a big wave of inspiration for this one, cranked it out in roughly a week. Honestly this is one of the more simpler ideas I’ve been wanting to do so I’m glad its finally out there. 

Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy the holidays. See you next year!

[hog-farmer]

Hocus Porkus part 2

On the early evening of Halloween over three hundred years later, two young men make their way through the suburbs on the outskirts of their college. Daniel, the younger of the pair, is cloaked in old hooded robes, reminiscent of a popular sci-fi movie. He’s a little on the scrawny side with dirty blond hair sticking out from under his hood. He reads aloud from his phone while idly twirling a replica fantasy weapon in his off-hand.

“‘The Anderson brothers were convicted and hanged for witchcraft and crimes against humanity. With their final breaths they laid a curse upon the town, proclaiming their inevitable return’,” Daniel rambled on to his uninterested roommate Aaron. Compared to Daniel, Aaron’s effort at assembling a costume was severely lacking. Only an old hockey mask rests atop his dark ruffled bedhead. The only other significant features of his outfit are the leather jacket hanging over his shoulders and a foam machete loosely held in his hand.

Both men are still relatively new to the area, only living here a couple months since the start of the semester. Aaron’s currently a junior after getting most of his general credits at a community college closer to home. Since he applied later than intended the only housing left available were the freshman dorms, which is where he got paired to room with Daniel. They get along well enough, with Aaron mostly preferring to keep to himself and Daniel dragging him along to events like they currently are.

“You really believe any of that junk?” Aaron asked once Daniel finished reading.

“Eh, somewhat. Not completely obviously, but there's gotta be some truth to it,” Daniel elaborated.

“Yeah, but ‘bewitched men and fattened them like pigs’ is a little out there, don’t ya think? That’s some ‘Hansel and Gretel’ shit,” Aaron quoted sarcastically.

“Okay yeah, that part is a little out there,” Daniel acknowledges.

“Uh-huh, and what's the point of coming out all this way?” Aaron asks as the suburbs around them are slowly replaced with the woods around their college town. The sidewalk had pandered out a couple blocks ago and the road they now walk along looks like it hasn’t been repaired in years. Cracks and potholes litter the worn and faded pavement, increasing in size and frequency the further down they go.

“Cause I heard their house used to be an attraction that people could visit, and I wanna see it for myself,” Daniel answers. 

Eventually the road they’re on panders out into dirt with the foliage of the forest becoming denser around them. After a while, the trees finally break into a large clearing. In the center of it stands an old decrepit-looking building. Its walls and windows are faded and cracked from years of neglect. Dead and dried grass surrounds the place, the vines along its walls are shriveled and the lone tree nearby is twisted and barren.

Despite the air of decay about the building, the two make their way closer and up the front steps of the house. Daniel barely has to turn the handle before the door creaks open on his own. The light from the outside only manages to sweep across the floor immediately by the door, keeping most of the house still shrouded in shadows. With slow steps Daniel feels along the wall for a light switch before finding one and flicking it on. The lights throughout the room turn on one by one, though it's still fairly dim with most of the lights having burnt out long ago. The ones that do work look pretty worn out, letting out a low buzz and occasionally flickering as they struggle to stay on.

Now with better lighting the two college students can fully see the layout of the room. A thick layer of dust has settled throughout the place, giving everything a gray tint to it. Cobwebs are scattered about, mostly occupying the corners and crevices of the room. All the furniture is set up as displays behind ropes to keep visitors from touching anything. Some of the smaller pieces have glass covering set over them to protect them.

Daniel proceeds to wander from one display to another, inspecting them and reading any plaques set up next to them. As he explores Aaron slumps against one of the support beams towards the middle of the room. Looking around with a bored expression he notices a candle beside him. It's propped up on a long metal stand with a plaque in front of it.

“‘A candle made from the fat of man’?” Aaron reads aloud to himself. This catches his roommate’s attention from across the room, causing Daniel to quickly come up beside him.

“Ooo! Is this the candle in the warlock’s curse? Daniel questions.

“Why don’t ya try lighting it?” Aaron asks as his roommate is fixated on the candle.

“Oh no, not even trying that,” Daniel shakes his head declining.

“What, like they’re really gonna come back?” Aaron mocks as he rolls his eyes. Digging his hands around his pockets he pulls out a little flip lighter. Giving it a quick flick he sparks its flame. “Oh no, someone stop me,” he sarcastically cries as he waves the lighter around, bringing it closer to the candle’s wick each time.

“It's not that. I just don't think we should be messing with anything here,” Daniel responds. As he finishes his sentence Aaron passes the lighter just close enough for the candle’s wick to catch and leave behind a small flame. 

Not a moment later a sudden rumble shakes the entire building. Various objects throughout the room begin to rattle and fall over. Startled by the sudden quake, the two men scatter and duck to avoid anything that might come down on them. The floorboards groan and crack while the lights strung about flicker from being violently agitated. Amongst the chaos the candle remains motionless, its soft orange flame slowly dancing as it turns a deep black. The front door swings shut as lightning rapidly strikes outside with booming thunder.

Just as suddenly as it started the house settles, bringing everything to a deafening silence. The pair of men cautiously peek out from their respective hiding spaces, looking to each other in confusion. The noiseless atmosphere is interrupted by the loud creaking of the front steps. With a long drawn out whine the door slowly drifts open, revealing three figures as they loom in the entryway.

“Ooh, It’s good to be back!” a sharp-looking man with a goatee says as he crosses the threshold, raising his arms overhead as he stretches his back. The green tunic he wears matches the color of his piercing eyes. Another man steps up beside him, looking around the room with an investigative expression. They share similar features, though he’s slightly taller and bulkier than the first man, along with much denser facial hair.

“We’re back, we’re back, we’re back!” the last of the newcomers chants as he dashes past the others. Standing a tad shorter and slimmer with his hair the lightest of the three. It's slightly longer up top with only a shadow of stubble across his face. He energetically makes laps around the middle of the room before freezing with a shocked gasp. Turning on his heel he makes his way over to the long forgotten cellar door. Throwing it open he dives down the steps before quickly reemerging a moment later. “Willy! All my piggies are gone!” he cries as he runs back to the others still by the door.

Rolling his eyes William rubs his forehead in annoyance before responding. “Isaac, we’ve been dead for over three hundred years. What did you expect?” he asks with a tired look.

“Besides, you were just in Hell with them,” the tallest, Jacob, interjects.

“But I thought they’d come with us,” Isaac pouts. With a sigh William strolls up to the slimmer man and grasps his shoulders.

“Isaac, we can get new pigs,” William calmly informs with a devious little smile. Isaac’s mood immediately shifts, setting off his excited energy again as he eagerly bounces in place.

“And I know exactly where to start,” Jacob comments as his eyes lock onto Daniel's from the tables he's crouched behind. The freshman quickly ducks back down for cover, only to be started and flail at the youngest warlock suddenly appearing right beside him.

"Oh! You're so cute!" Isaac happily squeals as he inspects Daniel. Grabbing his arm Isaac hoists the startled young man into a standing position. The warlock quickly latches onto Daniel in a binding hug as he spins him around. "You're gonna be so fluffy! Can I have him? Please guys, please!"

"Woah woah, hold up. Who the hell are you guys?" Daniel finally chokes out as he tries to free himself from Isaac's iron grasp.

"We're the Andersons," the eldest introduces as he gestures between the three of them. "And you… are gonna be my brother's new plaything," he adds with a wink directed at Isaac.

With his brother's confirmation Isaac lets out a happy little giggle as he squeezes the young man tighter. Before Daniel has a chance to question anything further Isaac catches his lips with his own. He's shocked by the sudden assault and tries to escape the warlock's grasp but unexpectedly finds himself growing tired. The will to fight slowly fades as his panic is replaced by an overwhelming feeling of ease. His eyes flutter shut, letting out a deep sigh as he gives into the warlock's embrace.

Just as the freshman relaxes he feels an odd sensation bubble up in his stomach. He lets out a small whine of discomfort when the build up of pressure begins to hurt. The pain soon subsides when Isaac brings his hand up to rub circles against Daniel's belly.

With the warlock's touch Daniel's stomach steadily starts to grow. Under his robe his belly swells out and over the waistband of his pants. Small love handles begin to sprout from his hips before the button and zipper of his pants quickly come undone. As his stomach rounds out his robe the growth spreads through the rest of his body.

Daniel's chest gradually becomes more visible under his robes, forcing the fabric to fill out further alongside his stomach. His arms and legs have puffed up the fabric around them, reaching their limits and ready to tear. Once the first seam popped it was quickly followed by a cascade of others. Like rising dough his soft flesh expands from every tear till his clothes give up completely. His boxers follow soon after, stretched beyond belief till they completely tear and snap from the volume of his ass and thighs. The remains of his robe hang around his puffy shoulders as most of his gut hangs exposed out the bottom of it. 

The strain of supporting all the new weight is starting to get to Daniel. His giant legs wobble as he tries to stay standing, leaning more on Isaac for support. Soon the weight is too much and he buckles under. All the new fat cushions his impact as he comes crashing down. Now prone on the floor his gut slightly pools out beneath him as he lays suspended over it. Ass raised in the air with arms and legs barely reaching the floor past his stomach.

"Oh don't you look handsome now," Isaac coos as he kneels down and takes Daniel's face in his hands. The now fattened freshman looks completely out of it. His pupils are blown wide as he huffs out heavy breaths past his puffy cheeks.

"H-hungry," Daniel barely manages to whisper through his laborious breathing.

"You want a treat boy?" Isaac quietly asks back to Daniel. Hearing the word 'treat' excites the young man, causing him to flail and huff more at the prospect of food. The warlock chuckles to himself at Daniel's response and with a flick of his fingers produces a cookie from nowhere. 

Daniel tries reaching for the sugary treat in front of him, though he only succeeds in slumping himself further forward. When he gives up reaching for the cookie Daniel resorts to begging for it by holding his mouth open for it. This elicits another laugh from Isaac before he slowly brings the snack towards Daniel's lips.

As his hand draws closer he feels the heat from Daniel's heavy panting ghosting over his skin. He grazes the cookie over the fat man's tongue, teasingly sliding it back and forth. Finally he pushes the cookie all the way in, letting Daniel slowly close his lips around the snack as well his fingers. Isaac releases the treat but rolls his digits around the fat man's mouth. Playing with his tongue and lips before he retreats and lets the young man enjoy his treat.

Crouched behind a counter Aaron stares in horror at the scene that just unfolded in front of him. His roommate fattened in the blink of an eye to look like his every meal has been at an 'all you can eat' buffet. Splitting out of his clothes and falling to the floor begging for food.

"Holy shit," he mutters to himself in disbelief. The words barely make it past his lips before the head of the tallest warlock whips around and locks directly onto him.

"Ah, I thought I smelled two of you," Jacob says, directing his brothers’ attention over to Aaron.

"Shitshitshitshitshit…" Aaron sputters as he ducks back behind the counter. Hearing their approaching footsteps Aaron frantically looks around him for anything to defend himself with. The little shelves around him mostly hold various old cleaning tools and products. Spotting a spraycan of disinfectant prompts Aaron with an idea. He quickly snags the can and hurriedly takes his lighter back out.

"Well hello there," Jacob smoothly drawls, looking down at Aaron from behind the counter with a wicked smile across his face. He barely gets a moment to notice what's in the junior's hands before a column of flames erupts towards his face. He dodges the worst of it but its heat still manages to sting his face. "AAHH! Little bastard!" he shouts, stumbling back while cradling his face.

With the warlock stunned Aaron seizes his opportunity to escape. Staying low he bolts around the corner heading towards the door. Just behind him he hears the crash of something hitting the wall next to him. He doesn't bother looking back to see what it was in favor of diving through the front door. Aaron shakes off the hard landing outside, quickly bringing himself upright and sprinting as fast as he can away from the old house. By the time the two older warlocks step outside Aaron has already passed the treeline and vanished into the foliage.

"Little shit wants a chase?" Jacob grumbles while glaring out at the forest. "Fine, let's play," he continues, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck as he strolls towards the woods.

"Isaac," William calls back into the house. "You have fun with your new toy. Jacob and I will go deal with this one," he nods over to the forest.

"Okay, have fun you two!" Isaac waves off while dropping another treat into Daniel's waiting mouth.

—

Aaron tries to keep a fast pace as he runs through the woods, but low lighting and uneven ground causes him to constantly trip and stumble. Not to mention having to navigate around every tree and getting hit with the odd branch every now and then. Finally, he manages to break out of the forest back onto the road they traveled down earlier. Despite his aching legs and burning lungs Aaron takes off into another sprint heading towards town. 

The forest outskirts slowly fade as more and more houses appear along the road till Aaron is back in the suburbs by his college. Most of the houses have turned dark from people turning in for the night, with the moon and streetlights being the only source of light left. Aaron frantically looks around for any sign of help before he comes to an intersection and notices lights flashing down the road. He takes the turn and as he approaches he realizes it's one of the college’s frat houses in the midst of a Halloween party.

The front lawn has various corny decorations strewn about it, from hanging skeletons to gravestones planted in the ground. A dull thumping of music can be heard through the walls as the windows blink different colors from the lights inside. The front door is left wide open, giving a glimpse at the party going on. 

Aaron cuts through the lawn, ignoring the stone walkway in favor of reaching the door faster. He ducks inside and spins his head around at his surroundings. Everyone is wearing a costume of some degree of effort, whether they’re wearing their jersey or sport’s uniform, or something bought from a convenience store at the last minute. Aaron tries approaching various guys, trying to get their attention and ask for help, but none of them pay enough attention to what he’s saying. Though frustrated Aaron still persists going from group to group hoping someone will listen and take him seriously.

Meanwhile, outside Jacob leads William as they wander down the street towards the frat house. They cast quizzical glances at everything around them, observing the changes of modern day while hunting down their prey. The younger of the pair stops dead in his tracks when they reach the bright and lively building.

“He’s in there. It's a little hard to tell but I know he’s in there,” Jacob concludes as he gives the air a quick whiff. “Let's rush in and snag him.”

“Wait,” William stops his brother, grabbing his shoulder before he can charge in. “Better idea, you circle around and watch any other exits. I’ll smoke him out here and you jump him when he flees” he instructs. 

Jacob nods and leaves his brother to head around the side of the building. Now alone, William takes a moment to wonder what would be the best way to flush their target out. His thoughts are interrupted as he hears something rumbling towards him. A vehicle pulls up to the curb of the street and parks itself in front of the house. A scruffy-looking man in a dark cap and collared shirt exits and grabs a large stack of flat boxes out of the back seat. As he steps around his car William catches an aroma coming from the boxes. Intrigued, the warlock quickly intersects the delivery man's path.

“You order a dozen pizzas?” the guy asks when William steps in front of him. 

“Yes, I did," William easily lies.

"Great," the man replies, passing the stack over to William. "That'll be two hundred," he continues with an outstretched hand.

"Two hundred what?" the warlock asks, slightly confused though mostly annoyed.

"Dollars man, ya gotta pay for it," the guy deadpans.

"Ah, yes. Here's your payment," William affirms with a small laugh. Shifting the weight of the boxes he frees up one of his hands to quickly lash out and grab the other man by his collar. He tugs the man towards himself and crashes their lips together. The guy's eyes bolt open in surprise before drooping into a relaxed position.

As William deepens the kiss the pizza guy's stomach slowly starts to fill out. Rounding out against his shirt before a sliver of it covered in a light dusting of dark hair peeks out the bottom. It quickly grows to the maximum volume the shirt can handle, causing the fabric to creep upwards. The man's waist expands just as fast, forcing the button of his pants to pop right off. 

When William hears the first few seams start to tear he lets the young man go. He stumbles back a few paces till he bumps into his car. Leaning against the vehicle he takes deep breaths as he recovers from the interaction.

The warlock stares down at him, admiring his work. The man's face is awestruck, blankly looking out with wide pupils. His cap sits lopsided on his head while his hair peeks out, slightly dampened to his forehead. His fuzzy cheeks are rounded and flushed red from exertion. Along his puffy arms the seams of his shirt's sleeves have torn about an inch in length. Similar to that his thighs have caused a few rips to appear along the sides of his pants, giving a glimpse at the pale flesh below.

His midsection is definitely the main attraction of his whole figure. Love handles spill over the top of his pants and ride up his shirt at the same time. His gut sits at the center of it all, completely exposed and looking overly full. The weight of it causes the young man to hunch forward slightly in order to accommodate it. It rises and lowers in sync with his laborious breaths.

William turns his attention back to the boxes in hand. Flicking the top one’s lid open he inspects the food inside. Fresh dough with tomato sauce topped with meat, cheese, and an overall greasy scent, fairly simple. The warlock nods to himself before whispering a spell as he passes his free hand over the boxes. He turns for the house but casts a glance back at the man he just fattened when he hears a whine. Feeling a little sympathy, William grabs the top box of the stack and tosses it back to him. The chubby man falls to his knees as it lands in front of him and quickly throws the lid open. Scooping a slice into each hand he enthusiastically brings them towards his face.

“Have fun, I’ll be back for you later,” the warlock promises as he leaves the man to enjoy his food.

Back inside, Aaron has given up on trying to individually get people’s attention. Now he’s been looking for the source of the music to cut it off and make them listen. He follows the noise till he comes upon the room where it's the loudest. Shuffling past people he finds a stereo set up on a table in the back of the room. He checks behind it and follows its power chord to an outlet in the wall. He gives the plug a quick yank and the music cuts off instantly. The chatter between the guys around him soon follows as they turn their attention towards him.

“Will everyone fuckin’ listen!” Aaron shouts now that every guy is looking over at him. Just before he can continue another shout erupts from across the room.

"Who wants pizza!" A random voice cuts through the crowd.

“Pizza!!” various frat guys shout at once. This causes everyone to turn towards the entrance and notice boxes of pizza being handed out and passed around. 

Through the crowd of shuffling men Aaron notices the man coming through that's handing out the boxes. Realizing it's the eldest warlock he abandons his effort of alerting the guys around him in favor of saving his own hide. He keeps his head low as he slips and shoves his way towards the back of the house. It's difficult with everyone moving the opposite direction he is but Aaron eventually makes it to the back door. 

The junior quickly throws it open and heads outside across the back patio. Just as he steps foot onto the grass he feels something ram into his side. The force of it sends him crashing to the ground, landing on his shoulder before tumbling onto his back. He groans from the pain and again when he feels a weight land on his stomach. Aaron's blood runs cold as he looks up and sees the other warlock sitting on top of him. Before the young man has a chance to react Jacob collects both his hands into one of his and holds them above his head.

"Gotcha ya little shit," Jacob seethes right in his face. "Now you're mine."

Aaron's desperate cry for help is silenced as the warlock roughly grabs his neck and brings their lips together. The Junior whines and flails whatever limb he can but his struggles prove fruitless. His efforts grow tired and lethargic as all his energy drains from his body. He feels his mind slowly slipping away as closes his eyes and relaxes into the kiss.

Now that his prey is completely placated Jacob slowly releases his grip on him in favor of roaming his hands over the young man's body. He feels the flat stomach he's sitting on gradually fill out beneath him, raising him higher as it expands. Periodically he has to adjust his legs to a wider stance in order to accommodate the young man's growing width.

Behind him the warlock can hear the increasing frequency of fabric straining and tearing as the man's waist and legs break free of his jeans. He brings his hands up to cup Aaron's pillowing chest, feeling it soften and enlarge in his grasp. His manhandling elicits a deep whine from the junior so Jacob decided to further tease his flesh. He grabs the center of his now tight shirt with both hands and roughly tears it apart.

Unrestrained, his moobs surge further, subtly beginning to sag towards his sides. Jacob brings his hands back to Aaron's chest, tightly gripping and kneading the softened flesh. Aaron mewls and whines against the warlock's lips as his thumbs roll back and forth over his nipples. Pinching the tips between his fingers Jacob gives them a harsh tug as he finally releases the younger man's mouth, letting him cry out from the pain and pleasure unhindered.

The warlock steps away and lets Aaron fall back exhausted. His huge mound of a belly rises and falls with the pace of his heavy breaths. It's completely exposed with only the tattered remains of his shirt laying on his sides. His leather jacket was tough enough to remain in one piece, though packed beyond belief. The material is so tight around his fattened arms that he can't even bend them, causing his arms to lay splayed out. His chest rises from the space in-between, slightly hairy and a little red from Jacob's rough handling. 

Aaron's pants fared about as well as his shirt. Entirely torn and split along the length of his legs. The only thing left around his expanded waist is his underwear, and even those are holding on for dear life. What once were loose boxers has now been turned to look like compressed briefs. Slight tears have started to form in the fabric where it meets the waistband.

"Okay piggy, now let's have some real fun," Jacob says as he kneels down next to Aaron's prone form. 

Grabbing the young man's soft calves Jacob drags him closer and settles the back of his knees over his own sturdy shoulders. This shift causes Aaron's tits and stomach to sag towards his head, smothering him further with the greater weight and pressure. It also perfectly props his giant ass up towards Jacob, who immediately takes the seat of his boxers and rips them apart. Aaron can barely let out a shocked little gasp before Jacob’s fingers slowly dive between his cheeks and roughly pry them apart. The sudden feeling of the warlock’s breath ghosting over his hole sends a shiver down his spine.

“P-please,” Aaron breathlessly wheezes, though he doesn’t know if it's for the warlock to stop or continue.

“Please what piggy?” Jacob smugly asks while giving the large cheeks in his grasp a firm squeeze.

“Fill me,” Aaron breathes out as he feels another jolt zip through his body.

“Oh I got just the thing that’ll fill you right up, but let's have a little fun first,” Jacob replies before dragging his tongue over the ring of muscle in front of him. When he feels a shudder run through the obese man’s body he decides to dive completely in. Shoving his face straight between the gigantic cheeks and latching his mouth over Aaron’s hole. He hears the young man’s wanton moan as he furiously rolls his tongue back and forth over the sensitive flesh. 

Aaron’s body twitches and spasms with every brush of the other man’s tongue past his rim. After endless minutes of this torturous pleasure Aaron feels the man adjust his hands. Releasing his cheeks in favor of tightly grabbing his enormous thighs. His confusion about the change is soon answered as he feels the warlock drive his face even further forward. Now Jacob’s tongue has probed past his rim, invading and forcing the muscle to loosen. He sporadically switches between leisurely rolling his tongue in circles to darting it in and out past the rim.

Eventually Jacob detaches his face from between Aaron’s cheeks. His forehead damp with sweat matching the gloss of his saliva smeared across his lips. Jacob eases his grasp on Aaron’s thighs, letting them roll over his shoulders before catching them again above his hips.

“That oughta’ve gotten ya nice and open, now let's get to my favorite part,” the warlock breathes heavily as Aaron feels something much larger than his tongue press against his ass. The offending member easily slips between his cheeks and glides right up against his hole. Jacob takes a second to adjust his hold on Aaron before he begins forcing the head of his member past the fat man’s rim. It gradually stretches to accommodate his girth till the widest of it is through with the rest of his length quickly following after.

“Oooh yeah, that's a good piggy,” Jacob sighs as his cock finally bottoms out in Aaron’s twitching hole. The fat man lets out his own shaky moan as he feels the warlock’s length settle deep inside him. 

Just as Aaron begins to feel accustomed to the intrusion he feels it slowly dragging back against his inner walls, sending another shudder through his body. It slips back till the head of the member is about to exit when the warlock reverses and slams his length all the way back in. The junior’s head rolls back with a heavy gasp from the sudden hit, though he’s not given a moment of reprieve like before as he feels Jacob quickly repeat the action. Over and over Aaron feels the devious warlock piston his dick at various speeds. Switching between lethargically dragging his member back and forth with rapidly slamming his hips against his fattened ass. Driving his lengthy member as far as it’ll go every time. 

Eventually Aaron feels the constant pace start to become sporadic as the warlock chases his climax. Brutally fucking the tired man till he reaches his limit and pumps his load deep inside Aaron. Jacob stays seated deep in Aaron’s ass as he feels the last few twitches of his orgasm pulse through his member. Once the moment passes he quickly drops the fat man’s legs, freeing his member and abruptly fixes his pants.

“Aaah, that… was great,” Aaron hears the warlock huff as his exhausted mind drifts and vision slowly fades.

—

A couple days later into the month of November the warlocks have settled well into modern life. Making a home for themselves out of the frat house they invaded that fateful night. The brothers easily took control of the young occupants without a fuss. Thanks to the hexed pizzas William had provided the night before, making them overindulgent, stuffed, and quite pliant. 

Isaac and Jacob divided a majority of the frat guys between each other, though not without a few spats occasionally. William on the other hand preferred to just select a handful of the young men for himself. 

They commandeered the upper floor for themselves, each picking their own room to do with as they pleased. The ground floor is where they relegated all their new pigs to live in. Most of them lay in groups with a few by themselves strew about the place all in a blissful stupor. The smallest of them can still waddle about, though it's a very strenuous task with their padded limbs and dragging bellies. Larger ones are immobilized where they lay, either too stuffed to move, suspended over their monolithic guts, or pinned under them.

In the clutches of William, the pizza guy from that night has grown to be the fattest pig among them. Taking up a majority of the living room with his rolls sprawled across the floor. His ass now spans the length of the wall behind him, with the two large mounds rising up in the cramped space. Small feet can barely be seen from the rings of fat that were once functional legs, now useless sacks or adipose. His head is sunk back, flanked by two giant cheeks that blend into his multiple chins. Beyond them are his arms, completely buried in fat with only the nubs of his puffy fingers sticking out of them.

Cascading outwards is his gigantic stomach that's stacked with numerous rolls. Rising high above it all are two shapeless mounds that make up his chest. Topped with slightly darkened nipples that are stretched beyond belief. Sitting at the peak of his stomach between his tits is the eldest warlock, William. Hey lounges back with his head resting on one breast while his legs are draped over the other.

"Well brothers, I think we've made quite the home for ourselves. Don't ya think?" William nonchalantly asks from his relaxed position. His brothers occupy the other sides of the room, each busy with their own respective pigs.

"Couldn't agree more Will," Jacob nods along as he's currently engrossed in roughly fucking an overstuffed Aaron. With his fist balled up in the chubby man's hair the warlock forces Aaron to arch his back to better meet his thrusts. He keeps a brutal pace that draws out a breathless moan from Aaron each time Jacob slams home.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Isaac is softly rubbing circles on a couple pig's bellies, one of which is Daniel. They hiccup and burp as the warlock soothingly eases their stretched stomachs. Their expressions are blissful as their heads slowly sway, about to fall asleep at the warlock's touch.

"Yeah, love these new piggies," Isaac agrees as he brings his hands up to jiggle Daniel's bubbly cheeks. "Though what should we do next?" He asks after a pause, turning back to his brother. 

"Whatever we want," William responds with a devious smirk as he pats the immobile man's fat around him. "Whatever. We. Want."

Well it took a whole year but I finally got the second part of this story done and out. I originally intended on getting it done and posted within a month of the last one, but obviously that didn't turn out. Regardless, I am happy with how this turned out and glad I gave it the time it deserved.

---

Link to Hocus Porkus part 1

Thanks for reading and hope you all have a fun Halloween.

>And this definitely isn't last you'll see of those warlocks ;)

[hog-farmer]

PartyBus

Fluorescent neon lights illuminate the dim nightclub, casting hues of purple and blue across the dark space. A bar is set up against the right wall, nearly taking up its entire length with stools dotted along the front of it. Tabled booths span the walls that flank the bar, reaching the stage that takes up the whole left. The space between everything is a wide and expansive dance floor with tiles that subtly glow various colors. 

The heavy base of music pulses through the place, thumping everything and drowning out most other noise. People mingle about, adding to the cacophony around them. Talking loudly amongst themselves or raving along to the music while on the dancefloor.

Duncan and Bryce are hit with all this as they step through the entrance to the nightclub. Of the pair Duncan stands shorter by a couple inches, but has a fair amount more muscle mass than his lanky friend. His hair is dark with its short length coming to a little quiff up top, as well as some modest stubble lining his jaw. Bryce on the other hand has a messy nest of bedhead for his dusty brown hair and a clean-shaven face. 

The two men exchange a nod before they make their way through the crowd. Slipping past bodies as they head towards the bar for their first drinks of the night. Opening a tab and a few drinks later, they feel sufficiently buzzed. They spend the next couple of hours between the dance floor or relaxing back in one of the booths. Chatting with the people around them or dancing along to the energetic music that plays from the stage. Occasionally they’d drift apart, joining another crowd or taking a break before reconvening later.

“Dude, dude!” Bryce shouts over the music to get his friend’s attention as he jogs over to him. “I just met some guys that know of a party bus that comes around here. Wanna go check it out?” he excitedly asks while motioning for Duncan to come along.

“Nah man, you go on ahead. I’m just gonna spend another couple hours here then head out,” Duncan replies, matching Bryce’s volume to be heard.

“Alright, just call me when you’re done and we can meet up,” Bryce calls over his shoulder as he begins walking away. Duncan shoots him a thumbs up in confirmation, watching as he joins a group of guys that look like they’re from one of the local college’s frat houses. He sees them chat for a minute before they head for the entrance and file out.

—

The brisk air of the night washes over Duncan as he steps outside. It's shocking but refreshing compared to the heat of his own body and so many others collected inside. Finally exhausted from the night he’s ready to head back to his shared apartment with Bryce. Slightly tipsy and off balance, Duncan stumbles for a moment on uncertain legs. Walking up to a lamppost along the sidewalk and he extends an arm out to lean against it for support.

After taking a few minutes to sober up a little, Duncan’s free hand fishes around his pockets for his phone. Finding it he enters its pin and scrolls through his contacts to call up Bryce. The phone rings out several times before eventually being redirected to the prerecorded message of the voicemail. With a sigh Duncan tries his number again but is met with the same result. He tries calling several more times, growing more frustrated with his friend with each failed call.

“C’mon man, what the hell,” Duncan huffs to himself, annoyed. Too occupied with his phone, Duncan doesn’t notice the group of pedestrians stumbling up the sidewalk behind him. In their drunken stupor one of them manages to bump into Duncan, nearly knocking him over. “Hey! Watch where you’re going jackass!” he calls out, catching the attention of the man and his group. 

When the men turn around, Duncan’s surprised and confused by what he sees. It's the group of frat guys that Bryce had gone off with, recognizing them by their apparel with bold Greek letters across them. Though they’re all very noticeably different than before. They had looked like your typical group of frat guys, young, buff, and athletic with years of working out. Now they all look like they’ve been hit with the ‘freshman fifteen’ about ten times over. 

Each of their clothes are strained around their fattened bodies, ill-fitting and in disarray but none of them seem to care. Patches of tears form along their seams, giving a peek at the flesh beneath. Their guts spill out the bottom of their once-loose shirts, forcing the fabric to ride up. Sets of pecs are replaced with pairs of moobs, occupying the rest of the space in their shirts. Flies and buttons have come undone to accommodate the width of their girthy waists. A couple of them even have large tears along the seat of their pants. They stumble and sway in their drunken stupor, leaning on each other for support.

“Oh f-*hic* fuck off,” the man that bumped Duncan responds, flipping his middle finger before he sways around to walk off with his group.

“W-wait! Wait a second!” Duncan sputters as he snaps out of his dazed ogling. “You’re the guys my friend Bryce went off with, right? Where’s he at?” he asks. When he’s met with the confused stares of drunk men barely mentally there he tries clarifying. “Bryce, about this tall, messy brown hair, you went out for a party bus together?” he gestures while describing his friend.

“Oooh, that guy,” One of them recollects. “We got off like h-*hic* half an hour ago, man. Last we saw he’s still on.” 

“Well where's the bus now?” Duncan prods further, rolling his eyes at the unhelpful answer.

“Hell if, *hic* I know,” the guy replies. “Comes ‘round here every hour or so,” he waves off as he and the group proceed to leave, uninterested in continuing the conversation.

Duncan sighs, disappointed at the response, but at least he knows the bus might come back around here at some point. For the time being, Duncan spends the next hour wandering around the block. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the party bus down one of the streets. Periodically he'll try calling or texting Bryce's number again, but there's still no answer.

Just as Duncan is about to concede for the night and head home, he notices a sliver of something big crossing the intersection down the street to his left. Turning just in time to see the tail-end of a giant black bus vanish behind the corner of a building. Motivated by the sighting, Duncan takes off down the street, hoping it's the right bus. With a hurried glance he crosses the street halfway down it and rounds the corner he last saw the bus. 

It’s stopped at the other end of the road with its door open, letting off a handful of stumbling heavy-set men in ill-fitting clothing. The vehicle looks incredibly sleek with its black exterior and neon decals along its side. Its windows are all tinted black to fit with the aesthetic, preventing anyone from viewing inside. Though from its open door Duncan can see a dark pink light being cast from the inside with the occasional flash of other colors.

Continuing to sprint down the street Duncan manages to catch up to the bus, throwing his hand into the threshold of the door to prevent it from closing. Stepping onto the vehicle Duncan hunches over tired, gripping the handrail as he tries to catch his breath from the impromptu running. After a moment he lets out a final huff before ascending the rest of the stairs.

Reaching the top he’s greeted to a familiar atmosphere of the nightclub from earlier. Everything is bathed in a dark pink with colorful spotlights idly rotating along the top of the bus. Plush seats face inwards, lining the walls beyond what Duncan can see. Tiny speakers are spread throughout the bus with a steady beat of music coming from them. Various men are scattered about, some taking a seat along the walls while others stand or dance in the middle. The place is fairly packed, making it hard not to bump or touch someone while moving around, but the guys here don’t seem to mind.

Duncan browses through the men’s faces, trying to locate Bryce’s among the crowd. They also look relatively normal too, compared to the portly men that just exited and the frat bros earlier. He can’t see much past the first dozen men, so with a sigh he resigns to look further in. 

As Duncan steps through he tries to avoid disturbing others. Maneuvering between available gaps, excusing himself and slipping past as best he can. Eventually it starts getting harder to move around the men deeper in the bus. The occasional nudge or bump becomes more frequent with less space to move about. Looking around himself, Duncan begins to notice something as he moves along.

The further he travels the larger the men get. Little round pot bellies gradually become full beer guts that puff out their shirts. Their faces are fuller with puffy cheeks and second chins starting to form around their necks. 

By the end of the bus the men are severely obese. Articles of clothing are torn or lost, either from bursting off their bodies or removed from drunken hijinks. Their giant guts are proudly on display, hanging over their wide pillowing thighs. The men back here are very handsy as well, sloshing about and feeling each other’s fat. Some are even grinding against one another or sloppily making out in a drunken haze.

It's so packed with little space that Duncan has to drag himself past various men. Reaching his hand out and grabbing whatever he can to pull himself through. Whether it be a plush upper arm or an overly doughy love-handle, his hands sink into the soft flesh around him. Sliding between their bodies is no pleasant experience for Duncan. With all the body heat here every guy is covered in a thick sheen of sweat, soaking his face and hair. Even his clothes turn darker with all the moisture they’re absorbing.

Nearing the end, Duncan struggles to push past a couple of guys leaning against one another. Barely managing to get a grip on their expansive and slick bodies. With one last shove his foot slips on something on the ground, making him lose his footing and sending him falling forward. 

Only his knees touch the ground as the rest of him lands and sinks into an expansive wall of flesh. It's just as uncomfortably damp as everyone else is here, if not more so. Heaving himself back, Duncan sees it's a man’s gigantic belly. It droops over the edge of the seat along the back of the bus, nearly touching the ground by just a few inches. Humongous thighs frame the overhanging gut as it idly drifts up and down to the man’s breathing. 

Wiping the sweat from his face, Duncan stands and gets a better view of the over-engorged man. He’s slumped back against the seat with his arms draped over the top, their fat deforming and hanging over the edge. Over his massive gut are two billowing sacks of flesh, each topped with a widely stretched nipple. A light dusting of chest hair trails up along the valley between his moobs towards his puffy face. However, as Duncan focuses on the fat man’s face he comes to an alarming realization. 

“Bryce!?!” Duncan shouts in horror. Recognizing his friend’s face and scruffy light brown hair among all that fat. The sudden sharp noise startles the now large man, pulling him from his drunken stupor and focusing his laden eyes.

“Ha ha, heyyy *hic* Dunc,” Bryce drawls out with a deep chuckle when he notices his friend is in front of him. “How ya doin’.”

“How am I doing?! What about you?! What the hell happened to you?!” Duncan frantically interrogates, arms spread wide to emphasize his friend’s larger physique.

“What’re you *hic* talkin’ ‘bout?” Bryce jovially responds, seemingly unaware of the problem Duncan sees.

“You! Your body! You’re fat as hell, man! You’re like the size of a whale!” Duncan shouts, dumbfounded by Bryce.

“Whaaa? Naw, I’m in the b-*hic* best shape I’ve ever been,” Bryce proclaims, raising his arms to flex his biceps. Though only the overhang of his arm fat jiggles slightly in response.

“Oh dear god, I- We’re getting you out of here and figuring out a solution to this at home. Come on,” Duncan huffs at his delusional friend. 

The smaller man grabs one of Bryce's raised hands and pulls to try and drag his friend to stand up. Even his hand feels swollen with fat, Duncan’s own fingers sinking into the soft flesh in his grasp. Bryce whines at the prospect of moving, but complies with his friend by trying to help heave his own heft forward. 

Eventually after a few poorly coordinated attempts they get Bryce standing on his over-encumbered legs. His chunky thighs smother into one another, forcing him to stand awkwardly with his feet far apart. Seeing his friend fully now that he’s standing Duncan realizes that Bryce is naked. Glancing back to his seat reveals the tattered remains of his clothing that fit him a couple hours ago. Duncan looks away flustered for a moment before focusing and returning to the task at hand.

Stepping around Bryce, Duncan comes up behind his friend and starts pushing him to walk forward. Duncan’s hands dig into the fat rolls along his friend’s back, while he also awkwardly leaning in order to avoid pressing himself into Bryce’s wide ass. The large mounds of adipose slowly oscillate up and down as Bryce takes heavy laborious steps forward. His big distended belly acting as a plow for them as he bumps his way through the crowd of other obese men.

“Ohhh, Dunc. I don’t wanna leave,” Bryce whines, trying to stop but not putting up much effort.

Finally pushing past the last of the men the two reach the front of the bus, both drenched in sweat from their respective efforts. After a momentary breather, Duncan resumes his position in pushing Bryce forward. The exhausted man takes wobbly steps towards the little stairwell, his stomach immediately flooding the narrow space. He turns his bulk slightly to carefully set a foot down on the first step. Attempting to turn and bring his next foot forward proves fruitless. His fat has wedged him in place against the sides of the small passage.

“Nmmf, Dunc, I’m stuck,” Bryce strains to his friend as he turns his head back as best he can.

"What? Seriously?!" Duncan says exasperated. He tries pushing, pulling, anything to move Bryce, but his friend is well and truly stuck.

After so many tries Duncan slumps down defeated. As he's lost in thought trying to think of a way out of this he feels an uncomfortable pinch digging into his abdomen. Glancing down, his eyes widen in silent horror by what he sees.

He's developed his own little starter belly. It'd hardly be noticeable standing, but sitting has caused the fat to squish together. Rounding out his shirt and straining against the hem of his pants.

Panicked, Duncan quickly stands up and looks at the people around them. The guys up front were all slim and fit when he came on, now they sport rounded potbellies that ride up their shirts. All of them are as blissfully unaware of anything around them as they were before. 

Glancing around for a way out, Duncan notices there's no one driving the bus, nor even a place for a driver to begin with. Bryce lets out a strained little moan behind him and when Duncan turns back to him he swears he sees his friend subtly getting fatter. His flesh creeping ever so slightly along the surfaces he's wedged against. 

There's no hope of moving Bryce and no other signs of an exit. As Duncan comes to this haunting realization, he feels a gurgle rise up in his stomach.

"Oh shit," Duncan mutters to himself as he brings his hand over his belly.

—

“Good evening everyone, I'm here live at the site of a quite perplexing scene," a news reporter speaks into his microphone as he faces the camera. "A local party bus has exploded downtown with its patrons inside, but not the way you may think."

The reporter walks over to what looks to be a pale colored wall. Pressing his hand against it, it sinks in with the slightest bit of effort. Removing his hand lets the wall behind him return to its original shape.

"This is the cause, and believe it or not folks, but behind me is actually a man. A man that weighs several tons, but a man nonetheless," the reporter continues as he turns back to the camera. "And this hasn't happened to just one man, no, it's happened to dozens of them."

The live video cuts to an aerial view of the street below. Police cars have set up a perimeter sectioning off the street with medical vehicles scattered about. The bus itself is nothing more than scrap metal at this point, torn and flattened beyond repair. Though the real focus here is the numerous blob-like figures piled around the remains of the broken vehicle. 

Cutting to a close up of a small group of blobs reveals their more human traits. Their rolls are now identifiable as certain body parts buried under layers of fat. Arms as wide as tires and legs that look the size of sofas. Their faces are framed by bulging cheeks and multiple chins that cascade into their gargantuan chests. Their stomachs easily the largest parts of all of them, pinning some under their weight or suspending their bodies away from the ground. They’re all slumped against each other in various positions and groups.

“The medical respondents have been trying to figure out what's happened here, but so far no luck. All the men appear to be relatively healthy, though severely intoxicated” the reporter resumes as the video cuts back to him still in front of the blob. The camera follows him as he begins walking around the expansive man, trailing his hand along the flesh as he does so. Eventually he comes around to the front of the blob, showing him suspended over his giant belly with his huge moobs pooling down in front of him. His head looks sunken in with all the fat surrounding it. Between watermelon sized cheeks and trailing chins is his face with a dusty brown mop of hair. His arms lay useless at his sides, not even reaching halfway over his massive chest.

“Sir, can you please tell me what happened here?” The reporter asks the blob, leaning himself over the blob’s pooling stomach and chest in order to extend the mike in his hand towards the blob’s face.

“Par-*BWUUUURP*-Tayyy” The blob burps out with a goofy smile on his fat face. The reporter makes an unsettled face at the burp and fans his free hand in front of his face to waft away its stench.

The new reporter climbs down from the blob and fixes his clothing as he centers himself back in front of the camera. Just as he’s about to talk again, a burp of his own quickly erupts from his mouth. He covers his face surprised, trying to stifle it but more just keeps bubbling out. After a couple moments of them not stopping he notices his clothes are starting to become strained. The button around his waist becomes tight before bursting off with a little ‘ding’. As his belly swells the gaps between the buttons on his shirt become more prominent, opening wider the further he expands. Eventually they all pop off one by one before his belly surges forward freed from its confines. The growth seems to slow there for the moment once his fat abdomen has exposed itself to the world.

“Well, you *hic* heard it here folks, *Buuuurrp* It's party time,” the reporter says into the camera with laden eyes and a broad smile.

---

Wasn’t exactly planning on this being my next story, but I thought I’d follow through with this random one-off plot. I tried to keep it simple, though it still took me a month to get through it, regardless I think its fine enough. Might try more like this with a couple one-offs every now and then to ride whatever inspiration hits me. Also, I recently got a kitten!  Though god help me he keeps interrupting when I try to type.

As always, thanks for reading.

[hog-farmer]

Build Your Bear

"C'mon Billy, just tell me where you're taking me," Jason says with a chuckle.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's a surprise," Billy laughed back while keeping his eyes on the road.

For the past five years Billy and Jason have been in a relationship and happily living together for four of those. When they first met Jason was in his last year of college. Looking like your typical kind of frat boy jock, well built from his time invested at the gym and in various sports. Though at the time he was closeted and slightly in denial about his sexuality and kinks.

Deep down Jason knew he wanted to give himself over to another guy and just let them do whatever to his body, sexually and physically. He wanted to grow, not just with muscles but with fat. The kind of fat where you struggle to get up, or need help with mundane things. So fat he can only order his clothes online at extreme sizes.

However, the most confidence Jason ever got was browsing and lurking on gainer websites. He'd scroll through countless photos of guys showing off all their fat. Feeling slightly envious wanting to grow himself, though anxious over the thought of how others would react.

One day he found Billy's profile on the site. He'd recently moved to the area for a job opportunity and was looking to fool around and feed some guys. Jason was captivated by everything on his profile, from his looks to his interest and especially his fantasies. He was hesitant at first, but eventually messaged Billy that he was interested in meeting up. 

From there the two of them struck up a conversation, casually chatting before agreeing on a time to get together. Jason was nervous the whole drive over to Billy's place. Shaky legs carried him the short distance to the front door before giving a quick knock. What followed next was a whirlwind of one of Jason's favorite sexual experiences. Billy was soft but very affirmative with how he handled him. Keeping him stuffed on both ends. Sweets followed each other down one after another while Billy kept a steady rhythm pounding his ass.

After that their meetups became a regular thing, with Jason spending most of his weekends over at Billy's. Eventually they decided to be a couple with Billy offering Jason to move in with him after college.

Now it's Jason's twenty-seventh birthday and Billy has been driving them to his surprise for nearly an hour. Between the two of them Billy stands an inch or two shorter than Jason, though he's older by two years. He's got sandy blond hair that's a little wavy, though it's hard to notice with how short he keeps it. He keeps his facial hair at a similar length, preferring short stubble across his face. A pair of thick rimmed glasses rest on the bridge of his nose for his nearsighted vision. 

Jason, on the other hand, has a darker chestnut color to his short hair. About a year into their relationship Jason started letting his beard grow out. Now it's become a dense bush on his face, but he manages to keep it well groomed. Over the past few years Jason has tried gaining, with a very supportive Billy helping him along. Though it seems his body struggles putting on weight. They've fought tooth and nail to get him where he's at now. A small layer of fat over his muscles with a slight belly protruding from his abdomen.

"Can you at least tell me how much longer it'll be?" Jason bargains.

"We're just about there, calm your tits," Billy says playfully, using his closest hand to grab Jason's chest.

"Ha, stop that," Jason replies while gently swatting his boyfriend's hand away.

After ten more minutes Billy finally takes an exit off the highway. They drive through the main street of a modest town before turning into a plaza of various stores. Jason wonders which store warranted coming out this far, his curiosity only grows as they pass the last one on the strip.

"What're we doin' around here?" Jason asks as they drive along the grungy back alley of the plaza. Billy only stares out his window, too focused on the rear entrances to the shops. Eventually his eyes light up as he spots a tinted pair of large sliding glass doors. Veering off to the side, Billy parks the car and turns it off.

"So, hear me out," Billy says, shifting in his seat to better face his boyfriend.

"Okay…?" Jason draws out with a quizzical expression.

"I know how badly you've been wanting to grow, and that you struggle to put on any weight," Billy began, with a nod from Jason he continued. "So after looking around online I found this place," he says, gesturing towards the building. "They give you the changes you want immediately. I know it sounds crazy, but believe me I've seen the results."

"You're right, it does sound crazy," Jason confirmed after processing the information

"Just… keep an open mind. Give it a chance, for me?" Billy asks while giving his best puppy-dog impression.

"Okay," Jason agrees with a hesitant sigh. Billy leans forward, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before they exit the vehicle.

As he closes the car's door behind him Jason looks up at this mysterious 'store'. The dark brick facade blends in with the rest of the back alley. The only difference that stands out are the doors, usually reserved for the front of a building. Despite his doubts, Jason approaches the entrance with Billy in hand.

Stepping through the threshold of the automatic doors Jason gazes around the store's interior. Tall ceilings make the place feel very open. The right side looks like a clothing department. Racks and displays show off a wide range of clothing from mundane to sexual. Meanwhile, the left side is set up like a local gym. The wall is mirrored and the floor is padded while various equipment is strewn about the space.

Against the back wall is the most bizarre feature among them. A giant vat takes up most of the space, nearly reaching the ceiling. The inside is filled with some cream colored liquid that's idly being churned. Jason is so caught up in the strange assortments around them that he doesn't notice the man approaching until he speaks

"Hello gentlemen, how can I help you today?" a chipper voice greets them. Jason turns his head to return the greeting but is thrown off when he takes in the man's attire. He's wearing tan slacks you'd usually see on retail employees, but he's bare-chested with only a leather harness across his top. Showing off his bulky physique and prominent muscle gut, all covered in a dense forest of hair.

"I- uh, what?" Jason stutters as his mind catches up with everything.

"Let me guess, you're new to all this," the man asks, eyes pivoting between the two of them. 

"Yeah, it was a surprise for him," Billy answers while tilting his head towards Jason. "We were hoping this place could help us with some gains," Billy finishes, emphasizing the last word by giving his boyfriend's belly a little jiggle.

"Ah, then let me welcome you two to 'Build Your Bear', 'a place where bears are tough, buff, and full of fluff'," the man introduces with an obvious tagline while giving his gut a firm pat. "My name is Jake and I'll help guide ya through the process today. Now, if you gentlemen follow me we'll get things started."

The employee pivots in place, walking towards the back with Jason and Billy in tow. As they wander along Jake gives a brief explanation to the different departments around the store. The clothing section obviously features a range of plus-sized clothing for men to browse and gather a wardrobe for their newly expanded bodies. While the various gym equipment isn't really a part of the growth process, it’s mainly there for the muscular guys that want to test their new strength.

As they reach the back of the store Jason feels like the large vat of liquid looms even higher than before. Along the base of it Jason notices a long spout sticking out from the middle of it that looks vaguely phallic shaped. Billy and Jason stop a few feet away at Jake's instruction, telling them he’ll be back with some supplies. It only takes a moment before he returns with some latex gloves and a bottle of lube in hand.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to strip down so we can get you prepped for the pump,” Jake casually instructs Jason as he tugs the gloves over his hands. Jason's face flushes with heat at the abrupt request, before looking to his boyfriend for reassurance.

With a small nod from Billy, Jason proceeds to slowly remove his clothes. Stepping out of his shoes and pulling his socks off after them. He grabs the edges of his shirt and tugs the fabric up over his head before hesitantly moving onto his pants. Unclasping its button, he shucks his pants down his legs leaving him in only a jockstrap with the little bit of his muffin-top spilling over. Just before he can tug them down next Billy interrupts him.

"Wait wait wait! Leave those on," Billy calls out. A devious little smirk forming as his eyes trail along the straps around his boyfriend's waist and ass. Jason turns to Jake, raising an eyebrow to question if it's okay.

"Fine by me,” Jake says with a shrug. “Now, just lean against the tank here and I'll help open ya up," he continues, nodding his head over while popping open the cap to the lube.

Walking over Jason tilts his body forward a little, bracing a hand and forearm against the thick glass of the vat. Once he's comfortable he adjusts his feet to give his legs a wider stance.

Jake crouches down beside Jason, resting one of his knees on the floor. He sets a hand on Jason’s hip to steady him while his other hand rubs lube between his fingers. 

“Ready?” the employee asks, looking up while waiting for Jason’s approval. Jason in preparation, slowly draws in a deep breath as he nods. 

The exhale that follows is interrupted with a shudder as he feels the cold slick fingers probe against his rim. The digits swirl around it, spreading the lube before one of them begins to slowly push in. Focusing on easing his muscles Jason lets the first finger slip in. Jake works his finger around, easing it in and out to stretch the muscle open. When he’s confident that Jason’s ready he gradually slips in another finger. He holds them there for a moment, letting Jason get used to the size before resuming his work. The two fingers eventually turn to three before Jake deems Jason ready.

“Okay, that should be enough. Let's get you situated on the pump then things can really get started,” Jake says as he withdraws his digits from Jason’s ass. As he stands up he gives the strap around his waist a quick pull, letting it smack back against the soft flesh. Jason lets out a yelp before sighing at the momentary relief. His legs feel a little shaky after all that, so he keeps a hand against the vat for support as he walks.

Crossing the short distance to the spout Jason notices a little control panel built into the base on the other side. The spout itself looks a bit longer up close, probably around three feet in length. The last foot of it though looks a little limp with a smooth rounded end. 

“Billy, you can go stand by the panel over there while I get Jason hooked up here,” Jake tells the other man. As Billy passes them, Jake takes Jason by the shoulders and positions him with his back to the spout. He grabs the end of the spout, tilting it up to aim at Jason’s entrance. With his other hand on Jason’s abdomen he slowly pushes the man backwards towards the tip.

“Now just ease onto it,” Jake mutters as Jason feels the spout begin to press against his rim. He lets out a gentle gasp as the head of it finally breaches through. Inch after inch slides in. Constantly brushing over his prostate, drawing suffered breaths of pleasure from Jason. He shudders as the length settles deep in him, making him feel full from the intrusion. 

"Alright, that oughta be deep enough," Jake proclaims when Jason is roughly eight inches down the spout. He leaves the man on shaky legs to meet Billy over at the control panel. 

"So, how's this work," Billy asks as he gestures at the panel. There's half a dozen knobs along the bottom and a lever taking up most of the left. The rest of the space is a little display hud for a variety of numbers.

"These knobs control where you want the weight distributed. Some guys like a bigger belly or a fatter ass. Ya know, that kind of stuff," Jake begins explaining. " The lever controls the flow of the liquid, how much and how fast it gets pumped out."

"And I'm assuming the hud here just displays and monitors all that?" Billy interjects as he points to the display.

"Right, though I think the number you'll find most interesting is that one," Jake agrees before pointing out the number showing Jason's current weight. "Just adjust the knobs to how you see fit and when you're ready you can start lowering the lever."

Billy takes a moment looking over what each knob corresponds to. He fiddles with them for a couple minutes before placing his hand ready on the lever. "Ready Jason?" Billy calls out to his boyfriend. Jason looks back and while still a little shaky he gives a thumbs up to go ahead. "Okay, here we go," Billy says as he begins slowly pulling the lever before pausing about half way down.

It takes a second, but eventually Jason feels the liquid of the vat steadily flowing through the spout and into his guts. He's surprised by the lukewarm feeling as it slowly fills him up. When it reaches his stomach is when the feeling of fullness starts to settle in. The tightness grows in his belly, making him feel like he's gonna burst. Just when it's almost too much does the feeling slowly ease and subside. The relief is only momentary as another pump of liquid strains his stomach again.

Over and over he's brought back to the edge with only a second of relief in an endless cycle. The liquid is slowly absorbed and metabolized onto Jason's frame. Steadily growing the layers of adipose with each new pump into his body.

The tight and swollen look of his gut is gradually hidden as the fat piles on top of it. Growing softer as it fills out and begins to sag down. Slowly obscuring the pouch of his jockstrap from sight. Its straps are steadily becoming hidden as well in the same situation with his love handles.

Through the pain of his packed guts Jason can't help but feel the pleasure of having his fantasies come true before his eyes. Watching his stomach steadily fill out, he grabs the edges of it and lifts it up. Feeling how soft it is as more of it fills his hands and weighs them down. He jiggles the flesh up and down, letting the overhang slap over his crotch. The pouch of his jockstrap already feels strained with his hard member, but the fat surrounding it is gradually overtaking his length.

After playing with his gut Jason's hands come up to grope his growing tits. They're round and firm, though slowly losing their shape as they grow flabbier in his hands. He lets them flop down onto his belly, freeing his hands to come around and inspect his ass. The flesh subtly expands in his grasp as he runs them across the soft flesh. He gives them a little jiggle by cupping his cheeks from below, feeling their heft and watching them bounce. Jason even feels the fat of his ass slowly creep further along the spout, gradually encompassing more and more of its length.

Pretty soon Jason is forced to adjust his stance. Spreading his legs farther apart to accommodate the fat accumulating along his thighs. Their size along with his widening waist is driving his jockstrap to its very limits. The fabric of the straps has stretched far enough that it's possible to see the gaps between the threads. Even the pouch is in worse condition after another couple of minutes. Jason's fatpad is now spilling out the edges of it, with only a vague bump in the middle of it that signifies the remaining length of his dick.

Just when Jason feels like his jockstrap is finally gonna snap, he feels the growth begin to taper away. The strain in his stomach slowly fades with the spout no longer pumping the fattening substance into him. Though now that pain is replaced with the straps of his jock angrily digging into his flesh as they try to contain his expanded flesh. Exhausted from everything Jason can only let out a little whine at the loss of his growth and the pain in his sides.

"Wha? What happened? Why'd it stop," Billy questions when he notices his boyfriend has stopped growing. He hasn't touched anything on the panel since they started and nothing looks to be wrong with it now.

"Oh, that just happens occasionally," Jake explains. "Sometimes when guys get pretty big we gotta help the spout by manually pumping guys on it. Why don't you go over there and help rock your man back and forth," the burly man adds with a wink.

Billy's mouth curls with a mischievous smirk before he parts from the panel to head over to Jason. He can't help but admire the sheer growth of his boyfriend so far. His legs look as thick as tree trunks, especially along his thighs. They build up into the swell of his ass, that's now very wide along with his hips. His gut is massive, sticking far out and reaching halfway down his thighs. Resting on top of it is a lovely set of moobs that Billy will definitely have fun teasing later. They've even begun developing a roll along the side that's wedged under his arms. Like his legs, the upper portions of his arms are where a lot of the fat has settled on them, giving them a very flabby look.

"Hey hon, how ya holdin' up?" Billy asks as his hands come up to cup the pudgy cheeks of Jason's fuzzy face.

" Nmph, why'd it… stop," Jason replies with a breathless whine. His restless hands wander up and down his belly, idly rubbing the soft flesh.

"Looks like we gotta do a little pumping ourselves if we wanna get you even bigger," Billy replies. "You ready hon?"

"Hah, y-yeah, I want… more," Jason heaves out through labored breaths. With that, Billy steps over to Jason’s side. Bringing one hand up over his boyfriend’s belly, resting it just a few inches above the sagging cavern of his belly button. His other hand goes to Jason’s lower back, sinking into the rolls that have piled up over his shelf of an ass.

Once he’s ready Billy begins pushing Jason to lean forward a little. A couple inches of the spout is dragged out eliciting a short sigh of relief from Jason. It’s quickly replaced by a heavy moan when Billy reverses his efforts. Pressing hard against Jason’s belly to drive him back and further down the spout’s length than he originally was. Back and forth Billy helps Jason ease through the motions, feeling the pleasurable drag buzz against his prostate every time.

Soon Jason feels the familiar warm substance snake its way through his body again, followed shortly by the slight pain from the building pressure in his stomach. With a surge of growth returning Jason feels the straps of his jock finally give away. The ones around his ass snap first, letting the round globes sag farthing from the loss of support. Next was the strap around his waist, allowing the fatty handles along his side to completely flop down on his widening hips. Now the useless pouch up front is stuck hanging against his fatpad, caught between it and his giant belly that's grown over most of it.

The rest of Jason continues to swell outward. The fat piling up along his sides is slowly forcing his arms upward as they rest against them. His arms themselves are starting to stiffen, losing their range of mobility as his joints are buried under layers of adipose. Even his hands are looking really puffy. Jason tried flexing his fingers to make a fist, but they halted about halfway despite his best attempts.

His legs are gradually coming to the same situation. It's getting harder to keep his knees bent slightly with Billy rocking him back and forth. He also can’t widen his stance much further than it is. His thighs have already grown so close together that he might not be capable of standing much longer. The outside of them have connected back with his ass fat, each appearing like one giant mass on both sides of him. His belly has developed most out of anything on him. It reaches far beyond what he could possibly reach. Even the tips of his huge tits are starting to look unreachable at this point. The sides of his belly pool over his hips and connect into his giant rolls of back fat. Though he can’t see the bottom of it Jason can feel that it's already grown over and past his knees. It all feels like heaven to Jason, but he’s starting to feel like the last of his strength is gonna give out soon.

“Okay, I think that's good!” Billy calls over to Jake at the controls. The employee throws the switch off and Jason slowly feels the pumping of the liquid come to a stop. The stress in his stomach subsides with the final bits of growth ending. Just as it all stops Jason feels the faintest bit of his stomach grazing the cold floor below him.

Billy takes his boyfriend’s giant arm and starts guiding him to walk forward. Each step is laborious, barely making it off the ground and landing with a loud thud. The length of the spout slips from his hole, finally giving him a rest. Though the last few inches of it is still trapped between his monstrous ass cheeks.

“Let's get you over to that bench there. You can rest your legs and we can finish up the process here,” Jake says as he walks up to them. Jason gives a breathless nod, a little hard with all the fat around his neck and new chins in the way. Billy and Jake each take a side of Jason, throwing his big arms over their shoulders. They wedge themselves against his fatty sides and extend an arm across his back to support him. 

The bench is only a couple feet away set up against the back wall. It’s a simple metal structure, but looks thick and sturdy. Obviously intended for very large occupants. The distance to it is short but it feels like miles to Jason’s new frame. It takes forever for him to work up the strength to take a step just after he’s done one. After a while they finally manage to get him in front of the bench, though it takes them another couple minutes of maneuvering to turn him around to sit down. He lands with a big thud, but at least it doesn’t sound like the bench is straining under him. Though a few good inches of his thigh and ass fat is rolling over the edges of it.

“Okay, you catch your breath and I’ll go get the tattoo supplies,” Jake says after getting out from under Jason’s arm.

“Tat…too?” Jason puffs, exhausted from the short trip.

“Oh yeah, that's the last little step to the process. Every guy we grow gets a little symbol on their bottoms,” Jake explains, giving a pat against Jason’s big ass. “Think of it like the store’s tag.”

“Oh…okay,” Jason complies. Jake steps out for a couple minutes, by the time he’s back Jason’s breathing has finally evened out. He comes out with a little rolling stand with a tattoo gun and a container of black ink on top of it.

“Alrighty, this shouldn’t take too long. We only do them a little bigger than an inch,” Jake says, closing his thumb and index toward each other to portray the size. “That's pretty small on a canvas this large,” he chuckles, gesturing at Jason.

Jake knelt down beside the big man and quickly got to work. Cleaning the area and laying a stencil of the design into his skin. It was fairly simple, just a heart with a little bear paw inside of it. Dipping the needle in the ink Jake started carefully tracing the image. Jason didn’t really feel pain from it, but it wasn’t exactly a pleasure either. More like an irritating buzzing or itch under his skin.

Soon enough Jake was done with the tattoo. All of it was simple black lines with the pads and claws of the paw filled in. After giving it another little clean Jake bandaged it up and gave them some instructions on care and a little bottle of gel or lotion for it.

“Okay, that should be it. Unless you two wanted to browse our clothing selection?” Jake offers. “Cause something tells me you might be needing a new wardrobe.”

“Oh no, we’ll be fine thank you. I like my piggy to be ‘au naturel’” Billy replies, turning his boyfriend’s face a shade of crimson as he cups and squeezes one of his moobs.

“Heh okay, then let's get you boys on your way,” Jake laughs. The thinner men take each of Jason’s hands to help him stand back up. It takes a couple tries till they finally get enough momentum to get him off his ass. Once he’s up they resume their positions from earlier and guide Jason to the front of the store. 

If the short distance before was exhausting then this felt like an absolute nightmare to Jason. They had to take multiple long pauses along the way cause he couldn't make it more than a few feet at a time. When they finally managed to reach the front doors Jason was a wheezing mess. Red in the face and straining to get enough air into his overworked lungs. His body was completely drenched in a thick layer of sweat, giving him a glossy look and matting all his hair down. Even Jake and Billy's clothing were soaked from where they were pressed up against him.

"You might wanna pull your car around," Jake called over to Billy. With a nod the other man unwedged himself from under his boyfriend and stepped outside. Fishing out his keys from his pocket Billy hops into his car and proceeds to back it up towards the front of the store. 

He stops a few feet shy of the doors before getting out and opening the trunk of the car. While he puts the seats in the back down to open more space, Jake continues helping Jason lumber towards the exit. Billy rejoins them and they manage to get him to the rear bumper of the car. They help turn him around and have him plant his fat ass on the threshold into the trunk. The car lets out a big creek with his weight forcing it to dip down a few inches. After another breather they have him lay back and help maneuver his bulk far enough to close the door to the trunk.

"Phew… that was tough. Hope you guys have fun and enjoy yourselves," Jake sighs relieved.

"Oh I'm sure we will," Billy comments while peering through the rear window of the car. Inside he can see Jason playing with his fat, rubbing what he can reach of his gut and jiggling his moobs. With that the two men said their goodbyes and Billy got back in his car to drive his newly fattened boyfriend home.

—

"Billy! C'mon… I'm starvin' here!" Jason huffed out from his bed.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'. Don't you worry hon," Billy replies walking through the threshold to their bedroom. He's got half a dozen pizza boxes in hand that he sets down on the nightstand by the bed.

"Ooo, gimme please," Jason says, making grabby-hands at the boxes.

"Here ya go piggy," Billy teases as he passes him a box. Jason sets it down on his belly, flipping open the lid and starts devouring slice after slice.

It's been roughly two months since their visit to the store. When they got home that day Billy helped drag Jason to their bedroom where the large man parked himself onto their bed and hasn't moved since.

Jason takes up the entirety of the bed, with his boulder of a belly occupying most of it. His mammoth thighs are forced apart by it, spilling a good chunk of them over the edge. Behind him is a good dozen pillows for him to lean back on. All of them are piled on top of the giant globes of his ass that are smothered against the headboard of the bed. His arms can barely reach beyond his expansive chest, but luckily it and the top crest of his belly act as a good shelf for him to set food on.

"Ya know…" Billy draws out, garnering Jason attention.

"Wha?" The big man asks through a mouthful of pizza.

"I heard 'Build Your Bear' is thinking about offering some ‘at home’ services," Billy says with a coy little smirk.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Jason plays along, knowing where his boyfriend is going with this.

“Ya know, just some pumping sessions,” Billy answers. “That sound of any interest to you?”

“Definitely,” Jason replies before returning to his pizza and shoving another slice into his greedy mouth.

---

Phew, glad to finally get this finished up. I expected to get this out about a month sooner, but kinda hit a rut in writing. Luckily I had yesterday off to get the last thousand or so words out. Though I don’t exactly have the second half of the Halloween story set like I wanted too. Oh well, I’ll get around to it eventually. I promise I’ll have it out in time. Though for now I’ll get started on another story. I’m not sure what at the moment, but I got around forty ideas saved up to choose from.

Anyways, thank you all for reading and have a nice day. 

[hog-farmer]

Fattening Fruits

Two men walk along the stainless white corridors of the research facility. One is the head scientist, Dr. Henrikson. Clad in a pale blue dress shirt and black slacks, with a pristine lab coat over his shoulders. Buzzed black hair covers his head, connecting down to his neatly trimmed beard. The slightly disheveled man beside him is his assistant, Martin. Standing a couple inches shorter than the doctor and similarly dressed. He has a light dusting of stubble across his face with a bed-head of short blond hair. Keeping pace with his superior, Martin riffles through the stack of papers on his clipboard.

"Are we ready to proceed with the test trials?" Henrikson asks, keeping his eyes forward.

"Yes sir, and the volunteers are currently out in the waiting room," Martin affirms. 

"Well, let's see what we're working with here," the doctor responds. Making their way towards the front of the building, entering the office space that connects to the waiting room. Martin heads over to one of the cabinets and opens a drawer. Pausing, he skims over its contents before pulling out a handful of manila folders. He hands them over to Henrikson to review the records and screenings of the volunteers. As he reads their files, the doctor glances into the other room where each of them are currently sitting.

Collin W. Twenty-one years old and starting his final year of university. Currently enrolled at the local college and the captain of their swim team. His light-tan complexion is clean-shaven with short black hair that ends in a little quiff up front. 

Gabriel S. Recently turned twenty-five, working part-time at the concessions stand of the movie theater downtown. Admits to regular recreational use of marijuana. He sits slumped back in his chair while idly scrolling through his phone. His dirty-blond hair is shaved along the sides with scraggly facial hair framing his chin.

Andrew M. A senior-level history teacher for the public high school. Nearing forty years old, his dark hair has started turning white along the sides of his head. As well as the light dusting of stubble along his face.

Harrison L. Fifty-two years old and recently divorced from his wife of twenty years. Developed a habit for binge eating and drinking. He's overweight as a result, tipping the scales past three hundred pounds. A thick salt and pepper beard rests on his face, matching his hair that's slightly begun to recede.

“Alright, I’ll go grab the supplies and head back to my office. You go collect our volunteers and meet me there,” Henrikson instructs. Martin nods, following his boss out the room and splitting off to enter the waiting room. The men in the waiting room turn their heads to the door when they notice it being opened.

"Gentlemen, if you'll follow me please," Martin calls out. The four men rise from their seats and file through the door. They follow the assistant through a short maze of corridors before coming to a stop at the doctor's personal office.

Opening the door reveals a modest and very well organized interior. There's a wide window on the far wall with a modern desk centered in front of it. A comfy plush chair is set behind the desk with two simpler ones facing it from the other side. A packed bookcase runs along the right wall, dotted with various knick-knacks and souvenirs throughout. To the left corner closest to the door is a sectional sofa with a coffee table in front of it. The doctor patiently sits behind his desk, looking over papers on his desk before looking up to acknowledge the volunteers.

“Ah, please come in. Have a seat,” Henrikson says as he gestures towards the furniture. Collin and Andrew step forward to take the chairs closest to the desk, while the other two plop themselves down on the couch.

"Now, as you've all read over, this is a simple test trial for our new modified fruits," the doctor begins explaining. "We'll supply you with some samples to try over the next couple months," he says, touching the box he'd set on his desk. "And you'll periodically come in for check ups to record any results or side effects. Now, any questions?"

"When would we be getting paid for this?" Andrew asked after a moment.

"The lump sum of money will be given to you in installments. You'll receive payments after every check up," Henrikson explains. He turns his head towards the others, waiting for more questions.

"Uhm, what exactly are we gonna be eating?" Collin pipes up. The doctor unfolds the flaps of the box and pulls out a big bag of fruit gummies.

"These will be the first samples you try. We had the fruits processed into gummies, both to dilute the raw fruit and for convenience. You'll only need to ingest a couple throughout the day," the doctor answers.

"How ya gonna know we're eatin' them?" Gabriel interjects from his seat on the couch.

"Simple, they have a benign, traceable component in them.  When we run your tests we'll know if you've been eating them or not. So if we find you haven't then you won't get your payment," the doctor explained. When no more questions arose, Henrikson took that as a queue to proceed.

"Each of you will be given a specific fruit to test. Collin, you will be given coconut. Andrew, peach. Harrison, watermelon, and finally cherry for Gabriel," the doctor says as he hands each of them their respective bags. "Now if there are no further questions, then I shall see you gentlemen at your next checkup," Henrikson concludes. 

—

Sitting through a history lecture, Collin was slouched in the back and begging to nod off. He can barely focus on whatever the professor’s monotone voice is droning on about. The chime of bells outside snaps the young man back awake. Signaling the new hour and more importantly, the end of his class.

Quickly packing up his belongings, he files out the door with the rest of the students. Feeling pent up and antsy from sitting through his classes, Collin is eager to let off some steam. Making his way across the campus he swings by his dorm to drop off his backpack. Mindlessly tossing his bag aside, Collin grabs his duffle from under his bed. Slinging it over his shoulder he turns to head back out, before noticing the bag of gummies on his desk. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes, mulling over snagging a few. He picks up the plastic bag and pops it open. Milky-white gummies fill the bag about halfway to the top. Fishing out a couple, he pops them in his mouth before resealing the bag and heading out. 

Collin usually doesn't like anything  coconut flavored, but these surprisingly tasted pretty good. Stepping back outside, the young man makes his way to the PE building. The main entrance and halls are lined with photos and memorabilia from teams of various sports and years throughout the college’s history. Finally reaching his destination, Collin enters the men’s locker room that connects to the university’s pool.

Finding his locker among the bunch, Colling sets down his duffle to get changed. Kicking off his shoes, he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it straight up over his head. As he tosses it in the duffle he catches a glimpse of his torso. A noticeable dark fuzz has spread across his chest and down his abdomen. He questionably brings one of his hands up and runs it through the hair.

“Oh come on, I just shaved this morning,” Colling whines to himself. Disregarding his stuff, he walks over to one of the full length mirrors set up in the room. The black fuzz is long enough to stand out against his olive skin, swirling over his chest and trailing down his body. His face also surprisingly has long stubble across it. Collin rakes his fingers through the beginnings of a beard and occasionally tugs at a few patches to inspect them. Searching further, the young man unzips his jeans and pulls them down. Exposing his boxers and now hairy legs. He kicks off the jeans from around his ankles and turns to inspect the back of them. His eyes follow up from his calves to his thighs, though rising further when he sees hair has sprouted across his back.

The hair isn’t the only thing off about his appearance though, everything is subtly softer and a little pudgy. His abs have disappeared under a little layer of fat that's beginning to spill over the top of his boxers. Little love handles have also sprouted out from his hips. The rest of his usually toned muscles have lost their definition, now appearing soft and rounded. His chest looks the most affected, looking like they puffed up the most and have begun to sag a little bit. 

Initially, Collin had thought he started slacking on watching what he was eating, but after thinking it over nothing seemed different. When his hair started growing faster he figured it must be a random effect of the gummies. Now it's gotten to the point that after shaving it’ll grow back halfway through the day. The next checkup isn’t till the end of the month, so he’ll have to endure it till then. 

“It's for the money,” he sighs as he picks up his jeans and heads back to his locker. Removing the rest of his clothes, Collin quickly pulls on his swim gear. Adjusting the slightly snug speedo around his hips and fixing his swim cap and goggles over his head. Lastly grabbing the towel out of his bag, Collin shoves the duffle into his locker. He walks across the cold tiles and out the door to the swimming pool.

—

Slumped back into the arm of his couch Gabriel mindlessly watches TV. His eyes are heavy and bloodshot as he stares into the screen, idly laughing at the show that's on. A doorbell ring knocks him from his stupor, blinking his eyes as looks around and comes to his senses.

His crummy little studio apartment is a total mess. In the far corner is his bed, sitting in a raised area. Dirty clothes litter the floor around it, disregarded wherever Gabe threw them. At least some of them made it into the hamper off to the side, though it's overflowing and hasn’t been touched in weeks. There weren’t any washers in the small complex he’s living in and going to the laundromat a few streets down is a hassle. Gabriel didn’t care, he’d usually just give them a quick whiff and check for any stains.

The clothing trails into his little living area where he’s currently sitting. Mainly consisting of a couch, coffee table, TV and its stand. Most of the mess around here were snack wrappers and some takeout containers. The whole table was covered in them, except for where Gabriel would prop his feet up on it. Meanwhile, the couch had various kinds of crumbs scattered across it and between the cushions.

At least the sink over in the kitchen wasn’t piled high with dirty dishes. Though that's mainly because Gabriel never bought any and only used paper plates and plastic utensils. Which are currently overflowing his garbage can and waiting to fall over like a filthy Jenga tower.

Another couple rings chime out again, bringing Gabe’s attention to his apartment’s door. He slowly stands up, trying not to fall over. Stepping over the trash around his feet he walks over to the door. Along the way he realizes he’s only in a ratty t-shirt and boxers, so he picks up a hoodie from the other end of his couch and throws it over his shoulders. Turning the knob, Gabriel opens the door as far as the lock-chain will allow and peers through it.

“Yeah?” Gabriel huffs to the man on the other side. 

“Uh, delivery for… Gabe?” the man asks. Noticing the logos on the guy’s cap and shirt, Gabriel remembers he ordered a couple pizzas earlier.

“Ah, right, one sec,” he says, closing the door to go look for some cash. Looking around the apartment Gabe tries to think where he last had his wallet. After a moment he goes over to his bed and finds the pair of pants he discarded earlier. Digging around its pockets he pulls out his wallet, fishing out a couple bills as he heads back to the door. Unlocking and opening it the guy hands over two pizza boxes when Gabriel gives him the cash. He thanks the guy with a nod before closing the door and heading back to his couch.

Brushing a few things off the coffee table Gabe sets the boxes down and flips the top one’s lid open. The pizza’s warm aroma hits him, prompting his stomach to let out a loud cry of hunger. Carefully picking up a hot slice, he brings it to his face. Taking a bite out of it as he slumps back against the couch.

As Gabriel idly munches away at his pizza he looks down at his body. He was never quite fit to begin, considering he got the 'munchies' often. Though lately, it feels like his hunger is out of control and it definitely shows. Most of his baggy clothes have become snug and a little tight in some places. Right now, his stomach sticks far enough out that it's forcing his shirt to ride up. Exposing a couple inches past his hairy belly button.

His bright red boxers are stretched thin around his waist and thighs. Little splits have even begun popping up along the edges of the fabric. Though his fat ass and thighs aren't the only thing straining his underwear to their limit. His package fills out the front of them, feeling much more engorged than usual. Alongside an increase of hunger Gabriel has also felt his libido skyrocket. 

Before he realizes it, Gabe has completely devoured the first pizza. Spots of grease litter his shirt from dripping down his chin and fingers. A sizable tent has also popped up in his boxers with a dark wet spot at the end of it. Gabe maneuvers them down to let his dick spring free. With greasy fingers he starts stroking himself. With his free hand Gabriel shoves the empty box off the table and opens the next one. Bring the next slice to his lips as his other hand begins fondling his heavy ball.

As he grabs the second to last slice Gabriel feels on the edge of orgasm. He quickly shoved the whole piece in his mouth. Puffing out his cheeks as he struggles to chew with big bites. His free hand now joins the other as Gabriel brings himself over.

He feels his balls begin to tighten as they pump cum out his cock. Rope after rope shoots out and into the air before spatting down across the table. Gabriel slumps back, exhausted and riding the high of his orgasm through heavy breaths. That load felt like he'd been pent up for weeks, but he'd already let one off this morning.

After regaining his composure, Gabe sits up to view the new mess. Streaks of milky white fluid run across the table and the garbage on it. Including the last slice of pizza sitting in its box. Without even sparing a thought, Gabriel picks it up and eats it. With two whole pizzas now packed into his gut, Gabriel turns and lays down to nap and let his stomach digest.

—

Pulling to a stop in his driveway, Andrew throws his car into park and turns it off. Setting his head back against his seat, the tired man takes a deep breath before letting out a long drawn out sigh. After staring into the ceiling of his car for a moment, Andrew begins collecting himself and his belongings before exiting the vehicle. 

He slings the strap of his satchel over his shoulder and walks the little cobble pathway to his front door. Andrew fiddles with his keys, rattling them as he tries to grab the key to his house. When he manages to find it, he quickly slips inside.

Kicking his shoes off onto a floor mat by the entrance, Andrew strides over into his living room. Reaching the couch, he sets his bag aside before throwing himself down onto it and letting out an exhausted groan.

He's been cooped up in his hot classroom for hours. Back to back lessons since the crack of dawn with uninterested students barely listening. After all that he suddenly had detention duty dumped on him. At least he used that time to catch up on grading papers, but that lasted longer than he would’ve liked. Worst though was he barely got a lunch break today and he's starving.

To prove his point, his stomach releases a loud grumble. Andrew gives himself a few more minutes of rest before getting up to raid his fridge. He heaves himself up and makes his way to the kitchen. Glossing over the contents of his fridge for a moment, Andrew spots the half empty tray of casserole from last night. Snatching it up he brings it to the counter before scooping himself a hefty portion. 

Tossing the food into his microwave, Andrew impatiently stands by as he waits for it to heat up. A little irritable, he fidgets in place before noticing the bag of gummies he left on his counter. Swiping the bag Andrew idly munches on a handful of the peach flavored sweets. 

Loud beeps from the microwave alerts him that his food is ready. Closing up the bag in his hands Andrew quickly tosses it aside in favor of retrieving his food. With a little puff of steam he takes out the plate and sets it down on his kitchen’s island. Scooting out a stool, the hungry teacher sits himself and immediately starts digging in.

With his hunger now placated with a warm serving of food, Andrew becomes aware of the uncomfortable dampness of his clothes. Setting his empty plate by the sink he heads upstairs for a shower and change of clothes. Stopping by his bedroom he rummages around his dresser for something loose to relax in. Pulling out a t-shirt and sweats, Andrew heads over to his bathroom.

He sets his new clothes off to the side before beginning to undress himself. Bending over to slip the socks off his feet, Andrew feels his pants strain against his waist. When he rises he glances over to the mirror above the sink. His midsection has become rather round as of lately. Nearing the limit of his pants as his belly and love handles have begun spilling over the top. He knows he should probably move up a couple sizes, but he just doesn’t want to admit it to himself yet.

His shirt is also starting to teeter on the edge. Little peeks of his stomach begin to be seen along the buttons, and the fabric straining against the contours of his stomach. Though the more noticeable points on his shirt would be the glaringly obvious pit stains under his arms. Lately Andrew has been having random hot-flashes throughout the workday. One moment he’s fine then the next he's all hot and sweaty.

Turning around reveals the back of his shirt to be even worse off. A large damp patch across his shirt that trails down to the hem of his pants. Undoing a couple buttons, Andrew tosses off his shirt and parts. His underwear looks the worst. Stretched beyond belief and wet to the touch, not a dry patch in sight. Most of his new weight has settled in his ass and it shows here. He awkwardly rolls them off and drops them in his hamper with the rest.

Sliding the tub's curtain open, Andrew turns its knob to start his shower. After testing the temperature, he steps in and feels the warm water start to loosen his tired muscles. Grabbing the soap off the ledge, Andrew lathers up his hands and runs them across his body.

He tries not to notice all the new pudge that's been piling up on his softer body. The extra padding under his upper arms, or the slight sag to his puffier chest. Feeling how much rounder his stomach reaches and wider width of his hips. Scrubbing along his thighs with his knuckles grazing against the other. The softer pudge along his lower back, leading down to the much larger mounds of his ass.

As he dips one hand to clean in-between, Andrew feels a sudden tiny jolt as he grazes against his hole. Looking back, he stares down in confusion at what just happened. 

Slowly, he probes a finger along the middle. Feeling the odd tingle return he pushes further. Surprisingly, his digit easily slips past the ring of muscle down to its first joint. When it does Andrew feels that pleasurable jolt run up his spine and cause his muscles to twitch. 

Chasing that pleasure, Andrew adjusts his posture. Widening his stance and leaning forward, resting his other arm against the back wall of the tub. Once he's ready he slips his finger in further, bringing it down to the knuckle. Letting out a deep sign, Andrew continues. Slowly dragging his finger out before reversing and driving it back in.

His body subtly rocks back and forth as he pleasures himself. Causing the overhang of his belly to sway, slapping down against the fatpad that began to surround his dick.

Eventually Andrew grows bold enough to add another finger. When he finally adds a third digit it brings him over his climax. His untouched cock let out strands of cum, painting across the wall and dribbling down to the floor.

Andrew rides out his orgasm for what feels like minutes before it finally tapers away. By now the water again his back is starting to turn cold. He quickly rinses himself off and sprays away any evidence of his mess. Andrew turns off the water and exits the shower, bashfully trying to disregard the event that just happened.

—

Late at night the side door of Harrison’s house is thrown open. The man himself lumbers in from the attached garage with dozens of takeout bags in his hands. He strains to lift his leg far enough behind him to nudge the door closed. 

Harrison passes through his unlit kitchen towards the living room. Had the lights been on they would've shown off the vast amount of dirty dishes littering every inch of counter space. Even along his short route there's the occasional food container discarded on the floor. 

The state of the living room is in a similar state of disarray. The TV on the far end is the only source of light, idly displaying the last channel Harrison had turned it to. Its soft glow paints countless piles of empty food containers. They're scattered across the floor, condensing mainly around the couch. The only portion cleared is the noticeable indent where the hefty man had been sitting.

Shuffling past the garbage, Harrison occasionally kicks aside larger piles as he makes his way towards the seat. He sets the new bags down by his feet before turning and carefully lowering himself to sit down. With a heavy thud his wide ass sinks into the abused cushions, causing the couch to groan out as it adjusts to his weight.

Harrison was never a slim man to begin with, considering his age and steadily dropping metabolism. Combine that with his recent divorce, Harrison found the only thing that'd comfort him anymore was food. Since then he's been binge eating whatever he can get his hands on. He didn't care about anything, all he could ever feel anymore was hunger.

Now most days are spent like this. Parked on the couch, mindlessly watching TV as he hogs down junk food. Anytime he's not, Harrison is either fast asleep in a food induced coma or hitting a drive thru for more food.

He hasn't even bothered to get dressed for his trips out. Content to stay in his ill-fitting undershirt and boxers while behind the wheel. They're caked in numerous stains from all his messy meals. His shirt shows it the worst. Once bold white is now turned a dirty yellow from countless sweaty days. It doesn't even cover all that much anymore, making it nowhere close to his navel. Showing off the faint pink of stretch marks starting to form along the edge of his guy.

His shirt functions more like a bra at this point. Poorly holding back his sagging chest as most of them spill out the sides. Harrison's boxers fare no better, barely reaching halfway up his ass. Their elastic band digs into his skin as his wide waist stretches them to their limit.

Heaving himself forward, Harrison snatches up one of the take out bags. He dumps the contents next to him and grabs whatever meets his hand first. Tearing off the foil reveals the burger underneath. The slob of a man quickly shoves the food into his mouth, taking large bites to get as much as he can.

The next hour is spent like this. Ripping through numerous fast food items, trying to satiate his gnawing hunger. Juices and grease and juices ooze from the edges of his mouth. Trailing down through his beard and seeping into his shirt. Crumbs and little flecks of sauces are sprinkled across his beard from his rushed gorging.

With the last traces of his takeout devoured, Harrison lets out a deep belch. Little specks of his saliva fly out as he does. 

Labored breaths escape him as exhaustion settles in. He feels the strain in his stomach from packing it full, though the pangs of hunger still linger. With heavy eyelids Harrison begins nodding off. Barely registering anything from the TV as he drifts into another food coma.

—

Dr. Henrikson sits hunched over his desk, sorting through the paperwork laid out across it. As he skims over the paragraphs of a document a knock at his door draws his attention.

“Come in,” the doctor calls out. As the person enters Henrikson gathers up the papers and sets them aside. Peering up from his desk just as his assistant Martin approaches it. The young man looks as unorganized as usual. With his head a mess and holding a stack of folders that has dozens of pages haphazardly protruding out.

“Sir, I have the evaluation reports for the modified fruit volunteers,” Martin announces. 

“Ah, good. How’re the trials proceeding?” Henrikson asks. 

“There have been some subtle side effects from the ingestion of the diluted samples sir,” the assistant answers. Shuffling the manila folders, he hands them over to Henrikson to gloss over. “All of them have experienced an increase in their appetites and gained a noticeable amount of weight to various degrees,” Martin elaborates.

Plucking the top folder from the stack, Henrikson opens it to the notes of Collin’s evaluation. Besides his weight, the young man has been experiencing rapid body hair development and growth. Noting that any attempts of shaving regrow within a matter of hours. The doctor sets his folder aside in favor of viewing the next one. He picks up Gabriel’s folder and begins skimming through the pages. His evaluation notes significant swelling of his genitals, as well as an increased libido and sperm production. Or as the patient explained it, ‘bustin’ a load 24/7’.

The latter two evaluations are just as intriguing. The teacher complains of hot flashes and producing an excessive amount of perspiration. He also alluded to an ‘itch’ within his prostate but refused to elaborate further. Harrison has displayed the most severe weight gain of the four of them. Though that's understandable given his initial weight compared to the other. He also displays an increase in saliva from his salivary glands. The only other notable part in his folder is in reference to his odor and hygiene, most likely due to his own personal habits.

“Hmm, very well then,” Henrikson says, setting the last folder down with the others. “Have the test subjects progress to the undiluted fruit smoothies and we’ll monitor the results from there,” he directs Martin. With a silent nod the assistant takes his leave to go follow the doctor's orders.

—

"What the hell was that out there guys?!" Collin shouted at his teammates, throwing his towel on the ground in front of him. They had just finished up practice for today with everyone underperforming compared to their usual effort.

The other men stand about the room in front of their respective lockers. Dripping wet with towels around their necks, most have already taken off their goggles and swim caps. Tired and exasperated expressions cross their faces as they listen to their captain.

"We have another competition next week and it's like none of you are taking this seriously," Collin complains.

"Us? Look at yourself fatass," one of his teammates called out baffled.

Collin is taken aback by the accusation thrown his way. Embarrassed, the young man turns his face to the side before casting a bashful glance down at his body.

He'd really let his weight spiral out of control. It started out as just some soft padding making him look pudgy. Now there's no denying he's outright fat. He's gone through his baggier clothes and has already gone up a couple sizes past that. 

Even now the speedo he's in is the largest he could find. It's fabric stretched thin trying to contain his ass while painfully digging into his hips hidden under his doughy love-handles. Meanwhile the front portion bulges out against his fatpad that's beginning to peek out the edges. Lucky most of that is obscured by his flabby gut hanging over top of it. 

The most egregious development would be his chest. What was once flat is now filled out into giant bulbous mounds resting heavily atop his stomach. The expanded flesh has stretched his nipples wide, with them often feeling sore from a dull ache. 

Besides his ballooning weight, Collin has given up on trying to manage his overactive body hair. Now a dense forest of hairs is scattered across his body in more places than he ever had. Up his flabby arms and creeping down the rolls of his back fat. They coat most of his thunderous legs, leading up to the hairs along his fatpad and ass. They're scattered over his belly, appearing most dense around his deep belly button and along the middle. It spans his entire chest, leaving only his nipples exposed and drawing more attention to them. His beard is fuller than it's ever been, though it helpfully obscures the second chin that formed under the first. Fresh out of the water makes it all look even thicker, matted down and appearing darker.

“Yeah, who are you to judge us!” another of Collin’s teammates shouted, bringing him back to the conversation at hand.

“Look, I’ve got my own things I’m dealing with,” Collin says, a little quieter than intended.

“Like what? Stuffing your face at the dining hall?” another man jabbed, prompting a couple chuckles from those around him. 

Collin’s face flushes a deeper red with frustration. Already irritated by his teammates' performance and now their attitude, the young man lets out a huff before walking away. Heading for the stalls he decides to hold himself up in one, avoiding further conflict while he waits for the others to change and leave.

As the last few lockers slam shut with the squeaky sound of shoes departing, Collin reemerges and stomps over to his locker. He throws it open and removes his bag, taking out his towel and drying off the remaining water over his body. It's tiring trying to reach around everywhere and get deep enough between every crevice. Even needing to revisit some spots due to sweat forming from the effort. 

Satisfied with his drying Collin grabs his clothing from the bag before tossing his damp towel in. Awkwardly stripping off his speedo, unwedging it from underneath his overhanging gut and down past his ass and thighs. Putting the swimwear away Collin quickly puts on his clothes, consisting of some stretchy boxers, sweatpants and hoodie. Lumbering his way out the building he starts the trek back to his dorm.

Halfway through his walk Collin starts to feel an uncomfortable chaffing to his chest. Bringing his hand up to try and adjust his hoodie leaves him confused by the damp feeling of the fabric. Looking down reveals two dark spots centered over his nipples. Glancing for anyone to check for privacy, Collin carefully reaches under his hoodie to investigate. Cupping one of his tits in his hand is immediately met with an odd wetness. Quickly extracting his hand reveals a slightly opaque liquid on it. Brushing his hand dry against his side Collin rushes the rest of the way back to his room.

Avoiding any bystanders along the way, Collin finally reaches the door to his dorm. Throwing it open and closed behind him before tossing his hoodie aside in a panic. Removing the article reveals his nipples to be a few shades darker than usual, the hairs around them damp and covered in that substance from earlier. He tries wiping off the liquid, sending a little jolt through him from agitating his now sensitive nipples in the process. Cautiously bringing a hand to one of them Collin gives a slow gentle squeeze to it. As he strengthens his grip the young man notices a little milky white bead forming on the tip of it.

In a panic Collin quickly finds a new shirt before rushing back out the room and heading to his car. Awkwardly cramped behind the steering wheel the young man drives as fast as he can to the research facility. Making his way through the front doors to the waiting room, Collin hurriedly asks the man at the front desk if he could see Dr. Henrikson. The reception tells him he’ll page the doctor and to wait in one of the chairs.

Hesitantly Collin goes to sit down, feeling the uncomfortable pinch of the chair’s arms digging into his sides. He sits there for what feels like forever. Nervously keeping his arms crossed over his chest as he’s left with the silence of the room. Finally the doctor’s assistant peeks through the door calling for him. Rising, Collin quietly follows behind the man as he leads him to an examination room. The assistant prompts him to take a seat as he leaves to go fetch the Doctor.

After a couple minutes of Collin fidgeting in place, anxiously bouncing his leg, the doctor enters with a knock and a greeting.

"Hi Collin, what was it you wanted to see me about?" Henrikson asks as he sits down in his little swivel stool. Propping his clipboard on his lap, he clicks a pen before bringing his attention back on Collin.

"Uhm… somethings up… with my chest," Collin manages to spit out, attempting to remain vague from the reality of the situation.

"Okay, are you experiencing any aches, pains, palpitations?" the doctor inquires further.

"No, uhm… they're… leaking," the young man bashfully clarifies.

"Ah, so you're lactating?" Henrikson bluntly asks. Hearing the word out loud causes the rest of Collin's face to flush red, but nodding to confirm the doctor's words. "Well if you please remove your shirt I'll examine the problem at hand," Henrikson requests, setting his stuff aside and pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

Grabbing the hem of his shirt Collin rolls the fabric up and over his head, cautiously when brushing past his sensitive chest. As he places the shirt beside himself the doctor rolls the stool closer to examine him.

Henrikson carefully brings his hands up to cup one of Collin's moobs. The doctor gently applies a little pressure by squeezing. This causes Collin to wince at the discomfort as a little dribbling of liquid beads at the tip. Slowly, Henrikson begins working the flesh in his hand, while trying to be mindful of Collin's discomfort. Rolling the soft flesh in his grasp manages to coax more droplets of milk to trickle out.. 

Eventually the pressure begins to subside on that side of Collin’s chest. Gradually fading into a pleasurable feeling as the doctor eases the milk from his tits. “C-could you work the other one now?” the young man bashfully asks. Henrikson gives a silent nod before moving to repeat the process on the other nipple.

As the doctor focuses on that, Collin brings his hand up to cup the previous one. Bringing his fingers to the nipple and rolling the tip between them. Letting the milk trickle out more as he rhythmically tugs on it gently. All the while he doesn’t notice his breathing become heavier and more laborious as his mind falls into a pleasurable buzz.

“Well, I’ll say this is quite the development,” Henrikson says, breaking the silence. Collin barely registers the noise, looking up at the doctor with a glazed look in his eyes. Trying to refocus on the situation as he slowly comes down from the pleasure. “There's not much else I can do with the trials still underway though. The best I can recommend is to work out the pressure when it becomes too much,” he concludes. Stripping the gloves from his hands the doctor discards them as he begins collecting his belongings to leave. 

The thought of being left to deal with this on his own finally prompts Collin back into focus. “W-wait, there's gotta be something you can do to help with this,” he pleads as he gestures to himself.

Pausing before his hand reaches the door, the doctor slowly turns his attention back to the young man. “Well, there might be some things here at the facility that could help.”

“Great, yes, please, I’ll do anything, whatever it takes,” Collin hurriedly interjects.

“Anything?” Henrikson asks after a brief moment. When he’s met with a desperate nod from Collin, the doctor waves over for the man to come with him. “Follow me, I’ll see what I can do.”

—

Right now Andrew feels like he's being cooked alive. Stuck with detention duty again in his classroom with no working AC. He sits reclined in his desk chair as he fans himself with a stack of ungraded papers.

With the amount of sweat he's been producing Andrew has had to buy some new clothes. Sticking to darker colors to futilely try and hide the stains that appear. Though that's not the only reason for him getting a wardrobe upgrade. The recent sharp increase in his weight would be the other.

Most of the new weight has settled in his ass and hips, giving him a much wider stance than he's used to. It's awkward having to maneuver his monstrous thighs past each other as he walks. In his chair they all spill over the edges of the cushion, nearly enveloping it. The arms of the chair dig into his sides as his hefty love-handles spill over top of them.

His gut has grown to take up the entirety of his lap, smothering his fatpad down against his thighs. The buttons along his work shirt are strained. Mostly around his chest and lower portion of his belly, just barely giving a peak at the skin beneath.

Half a dozen guys sit hunched over their desks, either completing a random assignment or laying their heads down out of boredom. They’re relatively quiet, save for the few hushed whispers between a few of them. Andrew doesn’t care much regardless, mostly he’s just biding his time till he’s done and can head home.

Glancing up at the clock over by the door shows Andrew that there's only five minutes left to detention. Relieved by the end, Andrew begins collecting the paperwork across his desk into his satchel. As he's gathering the papers a couple are brushed off the edge. They flutter and roll through the air and end up a few feet away from his desk. Andrew sighs and rolls his eyes at the inconvenience. Swinging his seat to the side the teacher readies to lift himself out of the chair. Bracing his feet against the floor and grabbing the arm rests Andrew begins heaving his weight forward to rise out of the chair.

After rocking back and forth twice, Andrew manages to unwedge himself from the chair into a standing position. He begins shuffling over to where the paper landed, stopping just shy of it to try and grab it. It's awkward bending over with all this new padding in the way, so Andrew is careful by going slow and placing his hand against the wall for support as he does so. As he snags the papers between his fingers Andrew finally hears a few snickers coming from behind him. He quickly rights himself up and turns to face the classroom, giving a silent warning to the classroom and the students avoid eye contact. 

The silence is broken as the bell rings, signaling to everyone the end of the day. Andrew remains still with his glare as the students gather their belongings and file out the room. Once they're out and down the hall Andrew hears the stifled laughter again. Tired and out of effort, Andrew just huffs before turning back to his desk.

Though the sight he’s met with gives him pause. The cushions of his chair are completely damp with an odd residue oozing down the back and pooling on top of the seat. On reflex, Andrew brings his free hand to inspect his back. His grasp is met with wet material, bringing his hand back around shows it covered in the same sticky substance. 

It's mostly clear except for a vague orange tint. Feeling sticky like syrup, the substance slowly drops from his hand in gooey strands.

Thinking this is a prank by one of the students causes Andrew's anger to bubble up. His face twists into a frustrated scowl as he stomps back over to his desk, wiping the. Snatching up the remaining papers on his desk Andrew shoves them all into his bag. He quickly collects the rest of his belongings before leaving the classroom.

He walks as fast as his cumbersome legs will carry him, hoping to avoid anyone seeing his soiled clothes. Luckily the building is mostly empty at this point, so he makes it through the halls and parking lot without anybody noticing him.

Throwing open his car's door in a huff, Andrew tosses his bag over onto the passenger's side. Setting one foot in, Andrew carefully lowers his bulk into his car. He feels the damp squelch as he plants his ass on the seat and leans back against the rest of it. It's a tight fit even though the seat is set as far back as possible. He’s wedged in at all angles with the steering wheel beginning to graze against his stomach.

As he starts up the car Andrew looks to the rearview mirror overhead. Before he can shift the car into reverse he notices little beads of sweat forming across his forehead. Quickly brushing the sleeve of his forearm against it Andrew is surprised to see gooey stands come away from his face. Confused, Andrew sits there wondering how this substance could’ve possibly gotten on his face. It takes a moment but after inspecting himself further he comes to the perplexing conclusion that he’s the one producing this substance.

His confusion is short lived though, with a seething frustration soon returning to his features. With an angry huff Andrew backs out his car and sets off. Rather than heading home like he initially intended Andrew drives over to the research facility. 

Haphazardly parking in a spot Andrew drags himself out of his vehicle before stomping his way towards the front entrance. He enters the waiting room and storms over to the front desk. Peering through the little glass window Andrew lets out an impatient grunt as he doesn't see any receptionist occupying the room. Noticing the door leading beyond the waiting room Andrew pauses for a moment before deciding to disregard any rules and head back to the doctor’s office himself.

He lumbers through the halls as best he can, vaguely remembering the directions to Henrikson’s office. Soon enough after a couple wrong turns Andrew finds himself at the door to his office. Andrew throws the door open as he barges in, the intrusion alerting the doctor behind his desk.

“What the hell is going on with me?!” Andrew shouts as he storms over to the desk. 

"Hello Andrew, what seems to be the problem?" The doctor asks after his surprised expression returns to its neutral demeanor.

"This! All of this!" Andrew belligerently yells as he gestures to his hefty form. "My weight has become completely out of control from this stupid experiment. And now my body is making this weird goop," he finishes by wiping his hand across his sweaty forehead and sticking it out towards Henrikson.

The doctor peers closer at the substance on Andrew's hand. Curiously dipping his index finger into it and rubbing it against his thumb.

"Hmm, this is quite an interesting revelation," Henrikson says offhandedly.

"I want out of this shit. Take me off the program, screw the money, just give me something to undo this crap!" Andrew demands. 

"Andrew, please remain calm. There's only a few more weeks till the trial period is over. Just wait till then and afterwards I'm sure the effects will begin to taper away," Henrikson says in an attempt to cast aside Andrew's problem.

"No, I'm done. Just fix this shit now!" Andrew shouts, violently slamming his hand down on the desk.

At that moment the door to the office is thrown open again. As Andrew looks behind himself he sees two buff men in white scrubs approaching him.

"What the," Andrew begins before the orderlies each grab one of his arms.

"Sir, you need to come with us," the one on his left addresses.

"Huh? Like hell I am. I'm not leaving till he fixes this shit," Andrew argues, attempting to remove his arms from their grasps. When he tries, the orderlies tighten their grip and begin to maneuver him towards the door. Andrew struggles, hurling profanities at anyone he can. 

Eventually they drag him through the door's threshold. From his seat Henrikson can hear his shouting slowly fade out as he's escorted deeper into the building.

—

When the date of the final check-in for the modified fruits experiment came the remaining volunteers Gabriel and Harrison didn't arrive. Neither has responded to any form of contact for the past few weeks. By this point Dr. Henrikson has deemed a wellness check necessary.

On a quiet evening Martin pulls his car up to Gabriel's modest apartment building. Henrikson sent him to go check on Gabriel, while he himself went to check on Harrison. Parking on the curb outside he exits his vehicle and heads to the front entrance.

Passing through the foyer Martin navigates his way to Gabriel's apartment on the first floor. The assistant gives the door a firm knock and waits for a response. When he doesn't get one he tries again while calling Gabriel's name. 

After a moment Martin brings his ear to the door, hoping to hear something on the other side. He can faintly make out something, though he's not quite sure what it is. It sounds deep and guttural, like someone grunting. Curiously, Martin brings his hand up to the handle to see if it's locked. To Martin’s surprise it's not. He opens the door only a couple inches, but is met with some resistance. Martin questions if the door is weighted or closes automatically, but soon realizes it's just blocked by a mountain of trash when he sees some spill from the crack. 

Hesitantly, Martin calls out for Gabriel again. He hears the same groan again from inside, though clearer this time. Deciding to proceed, Martin forces the door open further. More trash spills into the open space by his feet as he gets a view of the apartment. The trash is scattered all across the floor, forming lumps and piles against the walls and furniture. It mostly consists of takeout containers and the bags they came in. Any of the apartments that's visible beneath the trash is either covered in food stains or soaked with grease.

Despite the landfill of trash, Martin’s attention becomes completely fixated on Gabriel when he notices him. The man’s mass now completely takes up the entirety of his bed, beginning to spill over its edges. He lays flat on his back with his stomach rising high above him. It takes up most of the space, nearly submerging most lard-laden legs underneath. In this position his giant moobs slump back towards his face. They would block a good portion of what his hands could reach if his arms weren’t weighed down by the fat enveloping them.

Besides Gabriel’s sheer size, the most shocking aspect of his growth would be his over-engorged genitals. It spills out from the space between his useless legs and titanic gut. His balls are larger than an over inflated beach-ball. They hang over the end of his bed as his cock rises high, curving along the swell of his stomach. It's thick like a tree with a flaring head reaching over the apex of his gut. A steady stream of red-tinted cum oozes from the tip. It runs down the crest of his stomach, between his cleavage and towards his puffy face. Slack-jawed, Gabriel lets the liquid drip down his chins and pool into his open mouth before every so often mindlessly taking a gulp. His eyes are so blissed-out and glazed over that he barely registers the shuffling of the garbage around him as Martin approaches his side.

“Oh, Hey man,” Gabriel manages to gurgle out around another mouthful. 

“Hello Gabriel, how are you doing?” Martin asks, slightly surprised by Gabriel’s nonchalant greeting.

“I’m doin’ great, never better,” Gabriel replies after swallowing. After that he turns his head back to how it was and resumes drinking.

Since Gabriel seems disinterested in anything else but drinking his cum, Martin decides to call Dr. Henrikson. Taking a step back through the trash, Martin pulls out his phone and dials up the doctor. After a couple rings the line connects to the other side.

“Hello Martin. How are things going on your end?” Henrikson greets. 

“Well, Gabriel is rather… encumbered, at the moment,” Martin responds, pausing to find the right words to describe his condition. “We’re probably gonna need a team to extract him from his apartment.”

“I figured that’d be the situation. Harrison is in a similar state here,” the doctor replies.

Henrikson had approached Harrison’s house in a similar manner that Martin had with Gabriel’s apartment. Courteously giving the front door a knock before proceeding into the man’s home. After shuffling his way through a river of garbage, the doctor came upon Harrison’s prone form in the living room.

He’s absolutely gargantuan now with his massive ass resting on the broken remnants of the couch he’d been sitting on. They’re the size of boulders now, reaching a height close to the doctor’s waist and much wider than the width of the now shattered couch. His legs are nearly as big, now mounds of fat that spread out at his sides. His feet aren’t even able to touch the ground with the sheer amount of fat surrounding him.

The biggest spectacle of him would be his belly. Easily the largest part of him with angry red stripes along his overstretched flesh. It reaches farther beyond his legs, forcing them apart and rises higher than the globes behind him. His chest is now huge sacks of fat resting towards the top. They droop forward, slowly rising and falling to his breathing with nipples stretched wider than dinner plates. His arms hang off to his sides, immobilized and supported by the fat engulfing them. They look like he probably can’t even bend his wrists.

Atop of everything is his head, with rings of fat connecting the back of his neck with his chins. Very puffy cheeks frame his mouth as an excessive amount of saliva drools from it. His beard is completely saturated with his drool as in trails over his chins. Every so often between laborious breaths Harrison will heave and suck back in what he can and gulp it down. His mind seems to have gone completely blank as well, not even registering the doctor’s attempts to get his attention or communicate with him.

“Though for Harrison, we’ll most likely need some heavy-duty machinery,” Henrikson comments to Martin over the phone.

—

Alone in his office, Henrikson sorts through the last stack of paperwork he has for today. As he's reading over another lab report, his phone starts ringing. Keeping his eyes on his work the doctor pulls out the device and brings it to his ear.

"Hello?" Henrikson asks after accepting the call.

"Uh, Dr. Henrikson, I need a little help with the test subjects down here," his assistant Martin replies.

“You can’t get the orderlies to assist you?” Henrikson suggests.

“No sir, most of them have gone home for the day,” Martin says.

“What exactly is the situation you need help with,” Henrikson asks.

“The subjects are… uhm… fraternizing, with each other… again,” Martin stutters out. Slightly annoyed at his work being interrupted, the doctor sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, I’ll be down in a minute,” Henrikson concludes and hangs up the call. Cleaning up his desk Henrikson stores the papers in one of his desk’s drawers before leaving his office. As the doctor paces through the sterile hallways of the facility he recounts the past events of the week. 

Shortly after their visits with Harrison and Gabriel, Henrikson got to work assembling a team and the equipment required to remove the oversized men from their homes and relocate them to the research facility. Gabriel had to be carried out by a team of eight men on the widest stretcher available. The doorways to his apartment and the building’s front entrance had to be widened in order to get him out. Harrison, on the other hand, needed a wall to his living room busted down and a crane to remove him. When they brought the two mountainous men to the facility they put them in a spacious room with the other volunteers of the modified fruits experiment. 

As for the other men, since their admission a few weeks ago, Collin and Andrew have grown close in size to Gabriel’s current. On the cusp of immobility, but surprisingly still able to shuffle their weight around or stand with assistance. Little supervision or care is required with them since they’re capable of sustaining themselves on their own emissions. In various ways their bodies have developed to constantly reproduce the modified fruit’s juices as a syrup-like liquid that is densely packed with sugar and calories.

Now in the lower portions of the facility Henrikson strolls up to the room the four men have been residing in. He's already prepared himself for entering the room by putting on a pair of goggles, a mask, and rubber gloves. Pulling out his ID badge the doctor swipes it against an electronic lock off to the side. A little beep chimes out letting Henrikson open the door and enter. As he steps through his ears are immediately assaulted with various vulgar sounds.

The room was initially set up for the four men to be resting in the corners of the room. Each with a floored-bed that had a scale to monitor their weight. However, they now appear to be in pairs messing around with each other. 

Over in Harrison’s corner of the room, the gargantuan man still lays suspended over his colossal belly. It completely envelopes the bed underneath him, beginning to spill across the floor around him. Currently, Collin is up from his bed and slumped against the larger man's form. He's grown much larger and hairier since being admitted to the facility. Though the hair has lost a little density in some areas from the expansion of his flesh. His chest is now constantly full with milk, causing him to continuously work at them to relieve the pressure that builds up.

Harrison's mouth is currently occupied with one of Collin's giant tits, greedily coaxing as much milk from the oversized nipple as he can. Meanwhile, Collin is licking around Harrison's multiple chins, slurping down the thick saliva that's drooled from his mouth. Deep satisfied hums and gulping can be heard resonating from Harrison's throat, while Collin repeatedly huffs out a chorus of moans for 'more' between his slurping.

The remaining men are on the other side of the room causing their own scene. On Andrew's bed the man himself lays over the edge on his giant stomach with his head buried in his chest that's spilled forward. His hands barely reach the mattress as he holds onto it with a tight grasp. In this position his mountainous ass is propped up high, with one leg halfway on the bed and the other on the floor. His sweating has become more excessive, now there's a thick layer of it constantly coating and oozing from his body.

Gabriel stands behind him, shallowly pumping his monolithic cock in and out of the other man's hole. His stance is wide to compensate for his gigantic legs as well as his beanbag-sized balls resting on the ground between them. His arms can't reach past his expansive belly to hold onto Andrew, so he grabs his gut as best he can and tries to hold it back. Every thrust he makes is met with a sticky plap as the bottom of his gut bumps against Andrew’s big ass.

“Yeah…ya want… this load…fatass?” Gabriel huffs out through his labored breathing. The only response he pulls from Andrew is an incoherent jumble of muffled pleas with the occasional profanity. 

“Stop this right now, both of you!” Martin interjects, though neither pay him any mind. The assistant has been beside the two, attempting to separate them, but to no avail. His arms shake and strain from the effort, though he only manages to sink his hands further into their malleable flesh.

“Need some help over there?” Henrikson calls from the doorway.

"Ah, Doctor! Yes, please come help," Martin sputters out exasperated. With his attention now towards Henrikson Martin doesn't notice Gabriel's hand coming towards his face. His pudgy digits grasp the bottom of Martin's mask and pull it up over his face. Unclasping it from behind his head and knocking off his goggles in the same motion. 

"H-hey! Give that back right now!" the assistant scolds with his hand reaching out. Gabriel laughs to himself as he passes the mask between his hands, holding it further away.

Martin presses himself as far as he can into Gabriel's bulk, almost begging to climb over the man in an attempt to grab back his mask. The large man takes a sudden step back, pulling his dick out of Andrew with a wet pop and throwing Martin off balance. As he stumbles Gabriel uses his free hand to shove Martin's head towards Andrew's vacant ass.

Before he can prepare himself Martin gets a mouthful of both their fluids as his face lands in the crevasse between the giant cheeks. He tries to pull away but before he can Gabriel holds him firm and forces him deeper in. He struggles for air between the smothering flesh and the liquids flooding his mouth. His limbs flail about, trying to push against Andrew or knock Gabriel away.

Eventually when Martin's movements slow to a crawl Gabriel tugs him free. The assistant falls to the ground coughing and sputtering, trying to catch his breath. His face is completely caked with their fluids, forcing him to wipe globs of it away in order to see. 

As Martin begins to recover he hears several clicks and beeping coming from the door. Through its tiny window he sees Dr. Henrikson on the other side.

"W-wait, wait! What're you doing?" Martin asks in a panic as he stumbles up to the door.

"I'm sorry Martin, but I'm putting this room on lockdown due to you being exposed to their fluids," Henrikson replies, his voice slightly muffled through the door.

"What!? No no no, you can't leave me here," Martin sputters as he fidgets the door's handle. Swiping his badge proved useless too when he tried it against the lock. 

"Martin, you're already showing development from the little you've ingested," Henrikson points out. Following the doctor's gaze Martin looks down to notice his* now fuller stomach rounding out his shirt.

"Sir, please! This is inhumane," the assistant tries pleading.

"So is this entire facility. You knew what you were getting into," the doctor coldly counters. "Besides, I was wondering what the experiment would yield with someone ingesting all four fruits at once,” Henrikson says, flicking his eyes to look past Martin.

Suddenly, Martin feels a weight crashing into him, pressing his body flush against the door. He glances back to see Collin’s open mouth slowly coming towards his face. Before he can react, the fat man’s tongue is slathering across his cheek. Licking at the sticky remnants still plastered on his face.

“Do try and enjoy yourself Martin,” Henrikson says with a devilish smirk on his face. He turns and begins heading back the way he came, all the while hearing Martin’s muffled shouting slowly fade out of range with each step.

—

“And finally, this room here is where we house our test subjects for the ‘modified fruits’ experiment we held a couple months back,” Henrikson informs the man behind him. He’d finally gotten around to hiring a new assistant after pushing it off for so long. Now he’s been showing the younger man around the facility, getting him acquainted with what he’ll be working with.

“Now, if you have no other questions then I’ll meet you back in my office after I check in on these gentlemen,” the doctor instructs. The assistant shakes his head in affirmation before heading out. As he exits the hall, Henrikson swipes his badge against the lock and steps inside.

The sight he’s greeted with has become quite familiar to him. Everyday he’d swing by and watch Martin fill up more and more space in the room. Quickly becoming addicted to the sweet fluids the other men produce and beginning to produce his own in turn. Lost in his gluttonous and lusty haze Martin swiftly surpassed the other four in size. Though that's not to say they haven’t grown as well.

Now Martin lays as a mountainous pile of fat in the center of the room. Having lost almost all recognition as something human, save for a few noticeable details and vague shape of him. His ass rises high behind him, flowing into the layers of fat that's completely enveloped his legs. His stomach stretches far out in front of him, covering most of his colossal endowment, save for its head peeking out from below his cavernous navel. Heavy breasts rest stop his belly, spilling over his sides and connecting with the rolls of back fat behind him.

Ingesting and growing from the fluids of the other test subjects has caused Martin's body to produce his own, but on a much higher scale. A thick membrane of his sticky juice oozes out across him, while his tits and dick have their own supply constantly drooling from them.

The other men occupying the room are slumped against Martin's larger form. Each enjoying the syrupy liquid that flows from him. Collin has happily latched onto one of Martin's wide tits, while Harrison has done the same to the other side. Gabriel sucks away at the tip of Martin's oversized cock, greedily gulping down his seed. Andrew rests behind Martin, wedged against his giant cheeks as he drinks the sweat that drools down between them.

They're all blissfully unaware of the world around them. Only caring about pleasuring themselves and satiating their endless hunger.

“Martin! How’re you feeling today?” Henrikson calls up to the blob. The only sound he’s met with is a long deep grunt resonating from the giant mass.

***

Oh good god this felt like forever, but hey its finally done. Honestly felt a little rushed there by the end but I’m satisfied with how it came out. Also big shoutout to @big-strawberry91, he helped me come up with this idea (along with many others) and planned it out together. So, go check out his stuff and give it a like for me.

Moving forward I think my next story will be something a little simpler. Though I probably won’t post that till I finish off the second half of my “Hocus Porkus” story, just so I have that prepared for when the time rolls around.

Anywho, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoyed. 

[hog-farmer]

Thanks for a Great Year

First of all, thank you all for the likes and reception for my latest story, “A Hefty Clause”. Heck, for all my stories, I’m grateful for every like, reblog, comment, etc... A lot has happened this past year, so thank you all for the support and for recently passing 1K followers.

Definitely gonna take things easy for a bit, after grinding out my last couple of stories. I think I’ll casually work on my “Fattening Fruits” story (A test study for modified fruit samples to observe their side effects). If I had to predict a release date for it, I’d say maybe late March? 

Well, again thank y’all so much and I hope 2023 turns out to be a better year for everyone.

[hog-farmer]

A Hefty Clause

Bruce had been Santa for the past decade now. Originally he lived in a quiet neighborhood on the east coast of the US. A few years out of college, living on his own and working as a mechanic. One Christmas Eve he was woken up by the previous Santa on his roof. Bruce had shouted at him causing him to fall to his death. 

After that, Bruce went through a whole night of crazy events that he initially thought was all a dream. Whisked off to the North Pole in a sleigh flown by magical reindeer. Brought to Santa’s workshop where he was greeted by a crowd of elves. Told that he’d be the new Santa since the last Santa died and he put on the suit. When he woke up the next morning he was back home and just wrote the whole thing off.

The preceding year would come to prove him wrong though. As months passed his appearance gradually changed. First his facial hair got quicker at growing back. Stubble would appear on his face in a matter of hours. Eventually it got to the point where he'd shave a full beard and it would immediately grow back in. His hair also progressively turned white. Going from his normal deep brown to a snowy white. Dying it was as futile as shaving, magically turning back to white like it never happened. A dusting of hair gradually appeared across his body, white as the rest of his hair. 

His weight steadily climbed too. He was never fit by conventional standards, but never really fat. Just had a soft layer over everything with a decent amount of muscle underneath. Now he looks like he has thirds at every meal. A few months in his stomach quickly developed into a pudgy beer-gut before spiraling out of control. It sagged lower and outward till it covered his crotch, preventing him from reaching it easily. Rolling over his hips that were much wider from the layers of fat filling them out. Lots of weight settled on his ass, noticeably sticking out as he walks and filling out any space he sits. His chest sits heavy on his big belly, round and plump they connect into his back-fat. Flabby arms stick out slightly as they rest against those rings of fat. Finally his face had his cheeks soften, jiggling slightly at everything he’d say. While a second chin did develop under his first it was mostly hidden by his dense beard.

Physical changes weren’t the only weird thing that happened to Bruce. Children would approach him unexpectedly while he was out in public, telling him what they want for Christmas. Dozens of boxes were delivered to his house. They were completely filled with an endless list of people’s names. By this point the reality of the situation finally hit Bruce. This was all real and he’s the new Santa Claus.

Understandably he was a little reluctant at first, but the elves helped prepare him and walk him through his new responsibilities. After his first year he got pretty used to everything. Most of the time he’d oversee toy production and help fix any of the machines. It’d all come down to the night of Christmas Eve. Deliver the gifts and make sure everything goes off without a hitch.

Now it's been a decade since Bruce took up the mantle. Christmas is just a season away and everyone in the workshop has been excited. Production has stopped for the night, allowing Bruce to make his rounds to check on the machinery. 

As he strolls through the workshop Bruce hears hushed bickering coming from behind him. Casting a glance he sees two of the higher-up elves silently arguing with each other. The slightly taller of the pair is Markus the head-elf, while the other is his second in command Damian.

"Whatever it is you guys wanna tell me, might as well get it over with," Bruce calls out, letting them know he’s aware of them. They pause mid-spat and nervously stare at Bruce having been noticed. Exchanging one last word with each other they make their way over to Bruce.

“Bruce, Santa, big man, how’re you doing?” Damian awkwardly greets while approaching. In response Markus smacks him in the back of the head. The taller elf nods his head towards Bruce, prompting Damian to ‘get on with it’.

“Ow, okay,” Damian snarks under his breath. “So Bruce, you remember how you became Santa Claus, right?” the shorter elf asks.

“Yeah, the Santa 'Clause’” Bruce emphasizes the latter word. “‘Whoever puts on the suit will be the next Santa’, yadda yadda,” he recites.

“Yeah, well, there might be a… another clause involved with that,” Damian rushes while nervously tapping his fingers. Bruce can only stare at him, trying to process what Damian just said.

"Wait, what?" Bruce asks, confused.

"Just… follow us," Marcus sighs before leading them off the work floor. Walking through the festive corridors of the workshop they head towards the offices of the building. Stepping into Santa's office, the elves sit Bruce down at his desk and bring over a little business card and magnifying glass.

"Now, as you know, Damian is in charge of records and bookkeeping," Markus starts as Bruce begins inspecting the card. "But somehow he managed to gloss over a very important detail regarding Santa!" He explains, turning to scold Damian with his stare.

"I don't get it. What am I supposed to be looking at here?" Bruce asks, not seeing anything different with the card.

"Here," Markus says as he pulls out a larger magnifying glass. Pointing to the little insignia in the center, Bruce takes a closer look. Murmuring to himself, he reads over the tiny font till a couple words stand out to him.

"'Holy matrimony'? I have to get married?!" Bruce exclaims, standing up in surprise.

"Yes, it's referred to as the 'Mrs.' clause," Markus explains.

"So if I don't get married then I won't be Santa Claus anymore?" Bruce asks.

"Not necessarily?" Damian interjects, sounding unsure. "From what I read, the Christmas magic won't disappear. Rather, it builds up and becomes more… unstable."

"What?" Bruce lets out, confused.

"Okay, imagine it like electricity," Damian tries explaining. "You're the generator. You make the magic and power this whole place. If you build up too much then you need to let it out, like grounding it with a lightning rod."

"And if I don't, am I gonna explode or something?" Bruce sardonically asks, trying to understand.

"Well…, the magic in you keeps you big and jolly," Damian says, gesturing at Bruce. "So, more magic might… exaggerate some things." Bruce can only stare dumbfounded as he processes what's going to happen to him.

"So, what you're saying is… I'm gonna keep getting fatter till I get married?" Bruce asks exasperated, giving his belly a shake for emphasis. As he does so Bruce feels a gurgle in his stomach. While it's still wobbling from him disturbing it he sees it subtly swelling before his eyes. As it grows it rides up his shirt a little, letting about an inch of his belly peek out before it seems to stop.

"It's already starting," Markus says under his breath once Bruce’s stomach settles down. “We need to get you searching as soon as possible”

“Maybe we could just marry you off to the first woman that agrees?” Damian tries offering.

“You know that's not gonna work. You know how fickle and precise magic can be,” Markus scolds. “He has to actually love and get married.”

“Well that's gonna be two problems on our hands then,” Bruce joins in after recovering from what just happened to him. The two elves look at him confused, wondering what else could be wrong. Rolling his eyes Bruce explains, “I ain't exactly playing for that team.” While this clicks for Markus, Damian is still left unaware.

“Oh good grief, he’s gay Damian,” Markus clarifies with a tired deadpan expression.

“Oh… OH!” Damian says as the lightbulb finally goes off in his head. “Yeah that might be a problem then.” The three briefly contemplate in silence, trying to come up with an idea. “Hmm… Does it say anything specifically about women?” Damian tries suggesting.

“It's literally dubbed the ‘Mrs.’ clause,” Markus says irritated.

“No, no, hear me out. It's just titled that. All it says in there is that Santa needs to be married,” Damian elaborates. Bruce quickly reads over the card again and realizes he’s right.

“Okay, that might work. But still gotta find a guy that’ll get married fast,” Bruce acknowledges.

“I’d say you head back to your old house, you’re not gonna find anyone around here. Try some dating apps or something there,” Markus suggests. “Damian can go down with you and help. I’ll stay up here and manage things in your absence.” After thinking it over Bruce agrees, planning on getting ready to head out in a couple days.

—

In the time it took to get them ready Bruce had another incident with his weight swelling a little. Other than that things went smoothly, so Bruce went back to his old house with Damian. His house was well kept with Bruce usually visiting for a break every now and then. It was fairly standard, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an attached garage, but a nice location away from most people.

After settling in Bruce got to work right away. Setting up a generic dating app to browse through the guys in the area. Making his profile was simple enough, putting down his general interests and likes. He needed some pictures of himself for it, so decided to take a couple generic ones. Just a few of his face and some with more of him in frame. When he uploaded those Bruce got the idea and courage to show off a little more.

Heading into his bathroom Bruce steps over to the mirror above the sink. Taking off his shirt he insects himself. He doesn’t look that much different, since his weight was already pretty high. Though there is the subtlety of his body looking a little puffier and sagging lower. Heaving his belly up he rests it on the counter with the edge of his belly touching the rim of the sink. Grabbing his phone Bruce aims at the mirror and curls his other arm in a flex as he takes a topless photo of himself. 

As he takes it Bruce feels the familiar sensation bubbling up in his stomach. Setting down the phone he holds his giant belly as he feels another growth coming on. It creeps further and spills down into the sink. Looking up at his reflection Bruce sees the swelling travel across the rest of his figure. When he feels to taper out he slowly steps back from the counter. He feels his gut slide across it before the weight pulls it down and slaps over his crotch. Sighing to himself Bruce picks his phone back up to put the photo on his profile.

—

A whole month passes with absolutely no luck. Bruce only managed to get a few matches from guys around the area. After chatting and texting for a bit they’d agree to go on a date. From there Bruce would make an absolute fool of himself with something going wrong.

The first date he managed to snag was with a pretty nice guy. Fairly young in his mid twenties compared to Bruce’s thirty-five. He was a little on the scrawny-side, standing a couple inches shorter than Bruce. They had decided to meet up at the local mall to walk about and get to know each other. Midway through the date however, Bruce felt that odd tingle begin to rise up again. Bruce didn’t want to draw attention to it so he grinned and bared it, trying to adjust his clothes as they went. 

It only took one thing to go wrong to cause a chain reaction. The lowest button on his flannel shot off as he was trying to keep his belly covered and contained. In a panic he overcorrected and caused more buttons to fly off. Red-faced, Bruce quickly excuses himself and rushes to the restroom. Closing the door behind him he slumps his back against it and slides down to the floor. Finally as he sits Bruce feels the seat of his pants split open.

Taking a moment to collect himself and fix his attire as best he could, Bruce stepped back out. Quickly looking around he noticed that his date was gone. Finding the fastest exit Bruce walked back to his car. After making it home Bruce tried messaging the guy to apologize, only to receive no reply.

About a week later Bruce found another guy and set up a date. He was pretty built with a nice layer of padding on him. His dark brown hair was buzzed short on the sides with a clean shaven face. They picked a local restaurant to go out for dinner. Meeting at the entrance they headed inside and were seated at a booth. It was a little awkward for Bruce to fit in with his ever expanding waistline. They had to push the table over towards his date more to make room. Though a few inches of his belly still rested on top of the table regardless.

Looking over the menu briefly they placed their orders, with Bruce's being significantly larger than his date's. They exchanged idle chit-chat while they waited for their food. Though once the food came Bruce felt his stomach act up again. He thought he blacked-out, because the next thing he knew he was alone in the booth with dozens of empty plates in front of him.

His gut felt full and heavy, straining against the table. Sauces stain his fingers and shirt. He looks like he made a total slob of himself. There was no sign of his date, he must've left when he started acting like a mindless glutton. Sheepishly Bruce asked his waiter for the check and made his leave.

By the end of the first month Bruce had tried going out on three more dates, but was stood up by each of them. He waited for them at their agreed spot, but no one showed up and they all stopped responding after that. They were most likely run off by the extreme amount of weight he's gained these past few weeks.

Bruce couldn't exactly blame them. Back when he first became Santa it was hard for him to adjust to his initial weight gain. Now his weight has more than doubled since this second clause started. He's crossed the half ton mark into four digits and it doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

It's hard for him to move around on his own. Initially he had Damian go get him a walker to help, but trying to walk with it is still a struggle. A good chunk of the new weight settled in his thighs. It's a laborious action to drag one leg past the other. What little he can move has already caused chafing between his thighs. It's gotten so bad that Bruce has had to ask Damian to help apply some creams and powder since he can't reach himself anymore.

With his mobility issues Bruce has been spending more time in his bed. It's easier on himself to just ask Damian for help whenever he needs something. He's been trying to think of a new way of finding a husband, since normal dating apps haven’t been working out for him. As well as he won't be able to leave his house or even his bed soon enough.

Sitting up on his bed Bruce browses his laptop that he has resting on his expansive belly. His wide ass and thighs spread out under him, nearly reaching the sides of his queen bed. Half a dozen pillows are smothered against his back fat for support and help recline him a little. Covering most of his legs Bruce’s giant belly reaches just past his knees in this position. He only has a sheet tucked up under his gut to offer some modesty, since he’d quickly outgrow what little he could find now.

After looking around the kinkier side of the internet for a while Bruce managed to find a gay community site that focused on men wanting to get fatter. Seeing this as one of his remaining chances at finding a husband Bruce signed up and started making an account. He entered his current weight and other info as best he could, and uploaded some of the pictures he took of himself a month ago. 

He gave it about a week, trying to chat and interact with other guys. Most people wouldn't keep up much of a conversation and there were others who would just ask for more pictures. It took Bruce a bit to realize his profile probably didn’t make much sense to other people. He’s in his mid thirties with snow white hair looking like he could pass for someone's grandpa. Meanwhile his profile displays one weight while his photos portray another. Maybe some new pictures of his current size would help.

"Damian. Could you… come in here?" Bruce called for the elf.

"Yeah boss, whatcha need?" Damian asks as he turns the corner into the room.

"I need help… taking some photos," Bruce says. Digging a hand under one of his moobs, Bruce pulls out his phone and extends it towards Damian. As the elf takes the phone it feels slightly damp and slick in his hands. He gives it a quick wipe with the hem of his shirt.

"Okay, so anything specific?" the elf asks.

"Take a couple… of me lying here first," Bruce says, gesturing at himself. Damian steps back to get all of Bruce in frame. He goes around Bruce to get a couple photos from different sides and angles.

"Alright, I got a few. Now what?" Damian asks as he finishes.

"Help me up… I want a few… standing," Bruce says as he begins trying to heave himself to the edge of the bed. Damian comes up to help maneuver him. Even sitting on the edge Bruce's legs are forced apart by his mammoth gut getting in the way. Through heavy breaths Bruce counts down, rocking back and forth to build up momentum to stand up. Taking his arms, Damian helps tug Bruce forward to a standing position.

Once he's up Bruce immediately feels the strain on his legs from all his weight. Guided by Damian, he awkwardly shuffles forward to lean against the wall for support. When the elf is sure Bruce is stable he steps back to quickly take some photos.

"Okay… now, can I get… a few with me… in the doorway," Bruce requests through laborious breaths.

"What?" Damian asks, confused.

"It's… it's a thing… I've seen. Just… go along with it… please," Bruce dismisses. Nodding, Damian helps him walk towards the door-frame. His thunderous steps cause various objects around his room to shake and rattle. Brought before the doorway Bruce is obviously too wide for it now when he’s facing forward. Letting Damian through first Bruce begins to push himself forward a little to wedge his belly in. He rests one hand against the door and the other on the frame. His doughy fat molds along the edges, finally stopping when the resistance won’t let him push any further. Bruce is sweaty and red-faced as Damian takes a few pictures of him like this.

“Ok, let's get you back in bed. You look exhausted, boss,” Damian says concerned. The elf helped Bruce unwedge himself and supported him back to his bed. When Bruce reached his bed he collapsed onto the edge of it belly-first. His face is smothered down into his moobs as he tries to drag his way further onto the bed. He tries lifting one of his legs but neither of them can make it very high up. While he's trying this his wide ass is propped up and out.

“Damian… take… take another picture… like this. Then… then help me up,” Bruce instructs while panting from the effort. Damian quickly does what Bruce says, snapping a couple pictures of his boss in this compromising position. After that he helps Bruce roll himself onto his bed and back to his initial resting position. Rearranging the pillows and blanket to let Bruce lean back and rest. “Thanks… Damian. Now, could you… go get me… some food? I'm famished,” Bruce asks. 

“Sure thing boss. I’ll get right on that,” Damian affirms and heads out the room. While Bruce waited for his food he decided to take a nap and promptly passed out.

—

After his nap and a meal that most would consider a buffet, Bruce got back on his laptop to upload the new pictures. It only took a few minutes for an influx of likes and messages to come in. There were lots of comments complimenting and praising his immense size.

For about the next week Bruce sifted through all the messages he had coming in. Most conversations would just focus on his body and weight and not much else. When he'd try steering the conversation to be more personal most people would slowly stop responding.

One night Bruce was idly snacking on a few bags of chips. He had his laptop in front of him, lazily browsing though the site until he heard the message notification sound off. Clicking the tab to the page he reads the text.

"Hey, how’re you doing this evening?” It says. Looking at the username it reads, ‘TubbyDreamer29’.

“Doing fine, just relaxing for the night, wbu?” Bruce responds. While waiting for a response he goes and checks out the guy’s profile. He’s a pretty husky guy in his late twenties, tipping the scales past 350lbs. The weight sits well on him, giving him a stocky build with a decent belly. His dirty-blond hair is short up top with a trimmed fuzzy beard framing his soft round face. His age matches his username and he lives in the state bordering his. Another ding goes off so Bruce checks the new message.

T: Pretty good, just snacking on a box of cookies.

B: Oh nice, any kind in particular?

T: The best, chocolate-chip.

B: Ooo, I could go for some of those right now.

T: Ha, I bet. With a guy your size you must go through a lot of snacks.

B: Yeah, though honestly I’m looking to slim down a bit. Mobility is getting a little tough.

T: That's understandable, I wouldn’t mind taking a couple pounds off ya for myself.

B: Ha, I’d give them to ya if I could. I’m Bruce btw.

T: Trent, nice to meet ya.

—

Their conversations snowballed from there. For the next couple of weeks they casually chatted through text and video calls. Sharing interests and getting to know one another. They talked about various topics, from their favorite shows to their college and work experiences.

A couple things they had in common were a love for sci-fi movies and shows, and both had a knack for baking. Bruce talked about his time as a mechanic and vaguely referred to his current job as a 'toymaker'. Whereas Trent told him about his current jobs, working part time between a library and as a busboy for a restaurant.

Coming down to the last month before Christmas Bruce's weight has reached triple it initially was. Now he's teetering towards the one ton benchmark with each passing day. Stuck in his bed his legs have swollen further into useless lumps that he can't bend. His gut has nearly reached the end of his bed, forcing his legs wide apart in order to accommodate it. Crushed underneath it all, his fatpad has completely swallowed any trace of his dick. His tits have grown so much that the tips of them are out of Bruce's reach. The limited movement he still has is in his arms and head. Rings of neck fat prevent him from turning his head very far. He can drag his flabby arms across his large chest, but it's getting harder for them to bend and be able to touch.

Bruce's fat has started to get in the way of his texting. With more lard piling up on his fingers he's losing the dexterity to bend and type with them. To help with that struggle Trent suggested they could just video chat going forward. During one of their nightly calls Bruce finally asked Trent if he’d like to come visit him, to which the smaller man eagerly accepted the invite.

Trent plotted out the best route to Bruce's house and hit the road at the end of the week. Bruce was anxious during Trent's drive, wondering about his response to actually seeing him in person and his greater waistline. In all his worrying he had Damian bring him snack after snack to try and alleviate his nerves.

Several hours later Trent was pulling up the long gravel driveway to a moderate house on the outskirts of the town he'd just been through. Parking his car in front of the garage he pulls out his phone to double check he's gotten the address right.

"Hey, I think I'm here. 25 Chestnut Ln, right?" Trent shoots out over text.

"Yup, that's it. Come on in," Bruce replied back. Stepping out his car, Trent walks up the path to the front door and gives a quick knock before entering. In front of the little foyer is a stairwell leading up to the second floor. Glancing to his left is the livingroom and the dining room to his right.

“Hello?” Trent calls out, peeking his head into the other rooms.

“Upstairs,” Trent hears a deep voice coming from up the stairwell. Slipping off his shoes by the entrance Trent climbs the steps. He looks around as he reaches the top wondering where to go. Noticing the only door open Trent heads towards it. Crossing the threshold he pauses at the sight before him.

A giant mass of flesh sits atop a queen sized bed. The most prominent mass in the center of it all droops down over the edge by nearly a foot. Across its surface is a slick sheen of perspiration with little flecks of white hairs scattered across it. As Trent stares he can see it slowly rising and falling with heavy breaths. He cautiously steps forward and gently places his hand on the mass. It's soft and warm as his hand pushes into the damp flesh.

“Trent?” The voice calls out, snapping Trent out his trance. Keeping his hand against the mass Trent walks around it. He passes a swollen foot that's been nearly enveloped whole in the ankle fat surrounding it. Passing the highest crest of the mass Trent spots a face buried under a mane of white hair and blubbery cheeks.

“Hi Bruce,” Trent greets. “Nice to finally meet ya.”

“Nice to… meet you… too,” Bruce heaves out, slightly slurred by his puffy cheeks getting in the way. With great effort Bruce tries to extend his overburdened arm out to Trent to invite him in, but he can barely drag it a few inches. Trent takes the initiative and leans into Bruce, pressing his own chubby belly against Bruce’s monstrous gut. He gently pulls himself up towards Bruce’s face, tucking his hands between the bloated cheeks and the closest neck roll to hold him. Lowering his own face Trent plants a kiss on Bruce’s lips. With their faces close Trent can feel his trimmed whiskers rubbing against Bruce’s long ones, along with his hot laborious breaths escaping his lips.

“You’ve certainly gotten… bigger,” Trent remarks.

“Is bigger… okay? Cause… I wanna…slim down,” Bruce pants out between breaths

“Whatever your size is is fine by me. I’ll help ya anyway I can,” Trent reassures.

“Well… this might…sound crazy… but… hear me out,” Bruce requests. Though his words were drawn out and slightly slurred Bruce recounts the past decade of his life. What happened that fateful night years ago and how he came to be the new Santa. He told him about his current circumstance with the clause causing his rapid weight gain in a short period of time. As well as the solution to remedy it. Throughout all this Trent listens, through with a slightly skeptical look on his face.

“Okay, so… you’re Santa? The Santa?” Trent asks, understandably perplexed. “Though I’ll admit you do have the complexion for it. Not to mention your unbelievable amount of weight already.”

“I can… prove it… if you… want me to,” Bruce suggests.

“How so?” Trent asks.

“Damian!” Bruce calls out as best he can. Trent turns his attention to the doorway where he’s surprised by a very short man with pointed ears entering after a moment.

“Yeah boss?” the elf greets.

“Can you… take us… home?” Bruce wheezes

“You sure sir?” Damian asks subtly nodding towards Trent while doing so.

“Yes,” Bruce huffs

“Alright, one trip to the North Pole, coming up,” Damian shrugs before cracking his knuckles in preparation. Though he proceeds to search one of his pockets. Pulling out a small softly glowing ball before throwing it down on the ground. A bright light fills the room causing Trent to briefly shield his eyes. When he opens them again he’s shocked to see the room around them has completely changed. 

It's at least twice the size of the room they were just in. Bright festive colors and decorations are scattered about the room with much of the furniture looking very ornate and detailed. Even the bed Bruce is spread out on looks far larger with an intricate headboard and posts. Sliding down from Bruce and off the bed Trent wanders about the room. He notices a window and heads towards it to peer outside. He’s met with a literal winter wonderland town compared to the secluded house with scattered snow piles he was just at.

“Okay… I think I believe you…” Trent stammers out as he walks back over to Bruce, a little shell-shocked by the surprise. Bruce lets out a deep hardy laugh that quickly devolves into huffing and wheezing to catch his breath.

“You don’t… have to agree… right away. You… can take some… time,” Bruce reassures Trent.

“Thanks. Just…a lot to take in,” Trent sighs out.

“Ha… tell me… about it,” Bruce huffs.

For about the next week leading up to Christmas Trent spent most of his time exploring the workshop. He’d occasionally go outside with one of the elves acting as his guide. Though he’d spend most of his time with Bruce, getting to know him on a deeper level. They even had a few much more intimate moments together. With Trent getting to explore and feel every mound, roll, and crevice on Bruce’s ever-expanding body. By this time Bruce surpassed weighing a ton, though it's difficult to tell by this point with how amorphous he looks.

Come the day of Christmas Eve, Trent had agreed to marry Bruce. The immobile man was so happy he quickly called for Damian and Markus to come officiate everything. After getting paperwork all in order and things organized it came down to the end of their little ceremony.

“Trent, do you take Bruce to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Markus asked.

“I do,” he responded with a smile. Standing next to Bruce, holding onto one of his chubby hands.

“And do you, Bruce, take Trent to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the elf asks.

“I… do,” he heavily breathes out.

“Then by the power vested in me by the North Pole and all of Christmas, I now pronounce you husbands,” Markus announces. “You may now kiss,” he finishes.

Trent proceeds to prop himself up against Bruce’s bed to get close enough and lean in for a kiss. Closing their eyes the two men enjoy their moment together. When next they opened them they waited with bated breath for something to happen.

“Oh…” Trent softly lets out, feeling something turning in his stomach. When he looks down at himself he sees his round belly slowly growing outward. Everyone can only watch on in silent surprise as progressively gets fatter at an accelerated rate.

The hem of Trent’s shirt quickly rises further and further up, exposing more of his stomach as it grows outward. Its seams split along his sides as his muffin-top surges out over his hips. The fat around his biceps rapidly inflates and pops his sleeves off, causing the remains of his shirt to fall off. His pants fared no better as its button was immediately launched off from the sudden expansion of his waist. The zipper was forced all the way down before the seat of his pants started to tear itself down the middle. The rest of the seams along the sides of his legs popped apart sporadically till they connected through and fell apart. It revealed a jockstrap underneath that was beginning to strain to its very limits. The noticeable pouch up front quickly swelled with his fatpad. Filling it and spilling out the sides before his gigantic belly grew over it all. The three straps around his waist and thighs that framed his oversized ass were the last things to snap.

Now in the nude there was nothing holding back Trent's uncontrollable growth. All the while his hair changed too. Becoming snow-white and sprouting across his body, though not becoming longer like Bruce’s. Trent had to widen his stance several times before collapsing under his own weight onto his ass. From there he grew to mirror Bruce in size. An overflowing belly that forced his lard-laden legs apart. His chest now sported moobs that were the size his belly once was. Weighing heavy on him and reaching into his piles of back-fat that now rested on top the expansive cheeks of his ass. Near-useless arms frame his overly chubby face that's surrounded by rings of fat and multiple chins. His breathing is fast and heavy from being rendered into an immobile blob of flesh.

“Wha…What… just… happened?” Bruce wheezes out in astonishment. “Trent… are you… alright?” he asks.

“I’m… okay… just… out… of breath,” Trent slowly manages to get out.

“I think I know what went wrong here,” Markus interjects, bringing the focus onto him.

“What?” Bruce huffs out confused.

“The clause if fulfilled, and not at the same time,” Markus tries explaining, when he’s met with silence he continues. “You’re married, so that's solved and the growth will probably stop. But now there's another ‘Mr. Claus’ that’s making magic too. What's already done is probably in an endless loop back and forth between the two of you,” the elf concludes.

The two blubber-bound blobs can only stare off into space as they come to terms with this sudden outcome. Wanting to give them some alone-time the elves vacate the room. Through slurred speech and heavy breaths Bruce and Trent discuss their future. Trent is fine with the amount of weight that's suddenly piled onto him. He’s always dreamed of putting on a lot of weight and while it's all sudden and he’s rendered immobile he likes it. Bruce had already lived life bedbound for a while now so he’s gotten used to it and doesn’t mind the weight he’s at.

As for Bruce’s job as Santa, Markus and Damian agreed that they’d handle delivering presents. As well as get other elves to fill in the roles Bruce took in managing the workshop. They suggested he could see this as his retirement to enjoy with his new husband. For Trent they had the elves build an extra wide bed for the two of them to rest on together.

Now Bruce comfortably sits reclined back against dozens of pillows with Trent right beside him. The rolls and folds of their bodies melding into one another, creating a hot sweaty mess of flesh between them. Currently they’re digging away at a pile of snacks laid out on their chests. Grabbing what they can in their meaty hands and shoving it in their greedy mouths before their next meal is brought in for them.

Happy Holidays.

---

Wow, thank goodness I got this all done and out on time. I literally cranked out the last 2k words last night. So yeah, I’m probably gonna be dead today. Regardless, I am so glad that this is finished.

If y’all made it this far then thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Have a happy holidays everyone. :)

[hog-farmer]

Update Time

So, I've pretty much done jack-all for writing this month. I wanted to get the second half of Hocus Porkus out sometime in November, but obviously that's come and passed. This time of the year is just busy, between work and holiday junk. Plus in all honesty I've been caught up in the new Pokemon games for most of my free time since those released.

My current progress on Hocus Porkus pt.2 is 1.5k words in and I'd say it's close to being halfway done. I've cut some extra parts from the what I initially outlined to make it simpler and more direct. One thing I would ask is; Would y'all prefer if I post it as soon as it's finished or wait till October/Halloween rolls around again? Cause it's gonna be closer to Christmas by this point and I wanna try and crank out my Christmas idea story for that holiday.

Well, thanks for reading. Hopefully I’ll get something out soon.