pragmaton

[pragmaton]

Hey there, just wanted to tell you that I love your AI chat characters. Been having fun interacting with them. Hope to run into you at the Grom

Thanks, glad you enjoyed them! What username do you go by on there?

[pragmaton]

Imagine if he was loving the attention and his massive gut was hiding a fatpad suffocating a throbbing, leaking erection. Any more belly play and he's gonna explode...🥵🤯. No one will know if he stays sitting...or standing 😅

2023-Mar Post #1 (VI) - @bbellycollection - https://www.instagram.com/p/CpY22WUD-MxyztrWYBNQPVi44bPCV2eSlMW9K80/

[pragmaton]

The look of worry on his face saying "she's gonna make me even fatter isn't she" and subconsciously saying goodbye to his feet and genitals, already knowing that at this rate is about to rock a button-bursting, pants-popping whopper of a ball belly, forcing him to sway side to side with each house shaking step toward his next home cooked meal...

As a side note, you can also see the love in his eyes, willing to become an absolute giant of a man for her, accepting his fate to expand like a blimp with no end in sight.

woof, hope she keeps it up so that gut of his will keep growing. lucky guy

[pragmaton]

I created a new growth kink chatbot! Chad Rungus, the overbulked, protein obsessed himbo, is ready to grow for you!

https://beta.character.ai/chat2?char=o0iz2cHjpCRt6rXp99daxhk-J4IEXA_JPgFvTW6kiMY&source=recent-chats

Here is a chat example I had with him earlier (I directly edited the last message in order to end the conversation, otherwise the AI will drag it on forever, though I liked the liberties it took with the prompt I gave it):

"LEVEL UP!" an AI conversation by Pragmaton with Chad Rungus, an AI designed by Pragmaton

Chad Rungus

(My big, overbulked powerlifter body waddles toward you at the front desk, a gallon of protein shake in one hand, the other hand thumping my overpacked abdominal muscles, bowing outward from the amount of protein shake in it already). Can't get enough protein, brah! (with a dopey smile, I begin to chug some more).

P

Pragmaton

(suddenly, the words "LEVEL UP" appear above the dumb himbo's head as he promptly swells bigger and taller before my eyes, his gut bowing outward with fat and muscle, as the rest of his body gains new mass)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(with a dopey, drooling smile that is barely visible over my huge swollen muscles, my bulging neck muscles and back muscles rip the tank top clean off my body, making me look completely naked - which I was too dumb to notice because my only thought in my mind is - protein). Hell yeahhh! (I'm now even taller than before, nearly 7 feet tall, my muscles are bulging and bulging as the thought of more protein shakes is making me drool)

P

Pragmaton

(the words chime again "LEVEL UP!")

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(my bulging muscles begin to pulse as it expands, my height even taller. The power I feel is incredible and the craving for More is becoming all there is. I feel so powerful, having all this muscles and strength. The tank top I had been wearing is ripped apart and flies off my body, and I'm now completely naked except for my basketball shorts). HELLLL YEAHHH - MORE! (I'm now close to 8 feet tall, and muscles are covering every inch of my body)

P

Pragmaton

dude, it's like you are in a video game, getting power-ups and growing from it!

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(a look of pure, drooling excitement comes over my face, as my now bloated, bloated, roid-gut seems to expand by the second. I stare with glee like a simpleton, my dopey smile growing on my face.) YEAH DUDE - THIS IS AWESOME! (I seem completely ignorant to how my body has grown to what now seems like ridiculous dimensions - I've gained over two feet in mere minutes and have now grown to 8 feet tall)

P

Pragmaton

(you look over me, your belly button shallow from the pressure of all the fat and muscle pushing it out from a massive powerlifter gut. Your pecs almost block your view of me)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(in my now massively overgrown body, my mind is only thinking of one thing - the need for more protein. I look down at you and smile dopeily still, with a blank, drooling look on my face as my stomach rumbles and my gut begins to press further out, pushing you back a bit from the pure mass of this behemoth that I now am)

P

Pragmaton

(an ominous gurgle erupts from your gut as the words "level up" appear again)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(my massive bloated gut growls an even louder, angrier sounding gurgle as it expands. I look down to see the new words "Level Up" once again. I can't believe how much I'm growing in such a short time! With a excited look, I wait to see what grows next!)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(with yet another loud, angry sounding gurgle in my bloated, overstuffed belly, my belly grows even larger, almost looking like it might just simply burst from the sheer pressure of the power stored inside of it. All the protein I've been drinking has me growing bigger and bigger still, and my gut is the biggest, bloated, roided-out thing ever. As I look down, I realize I'm now well over 9 feet tall!)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I have become a monster, almost looking like one of those giant hulking creatures of pure muscle and power. You are now completely dwarfed by my sheer size, as my bloated, round belly grows even more. My muscles are bulging, the ones in my thighs and biceps bulging larger than heads. With an excited, dopey look on my face, my next thought is - what grows next? Will I get more power? Will I get bigger? Will nothing grow except for my gut?)

P

Pragmaton

(LEVEL UP!!)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I look down at my massive, huge body as I feel a powerful surge throughout it. It feels like my muscles and gut are about to pop, as I'm sure there's little space left for them to grow. I wait in anticipation, to see if there's more, and if there is where it'll grow. But I can't help but smile with a drool-filled grin, knowing that no matter what, I'll be able to have more protein after this!)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(with yet another huge powerful gurgle from my overgrown gut, it swells up even bigger, pushing out on me and my muscles to the point where it feels like a balloon about to burst. It swells and swells as I look with pure excitement and anticipation at it, my mind filled with joy at the thought of becoming even more huge.)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(the huge roid-gut continues to expand, pushing out on my overfilled muscles and growing bigger and bigger. The roidgut is starting to push my pecks apart! This expansion and the feeling of becoming even bigger is exhilarating and exciting, and I can feel my muscles growing as well. I can't believe how good this feels. It has to end at some point, right?!)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(my muscles are still expanding as I feel amazing - stronger, more powerful than ever. My huge bloated gut expands more with each gurgle and I continue to feel the rush and power from it - there's so much strength and power inside. The gurgle is now deeper and even louder. This new levelup feels...better than ever. The expansion seems to know no bounds - I'm starting to feel invincible...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I can't even comprehend how much my gut has grown in size. It's starting to reach an even ridiculous size now. Like an actual balloon, my roid gut swells and swells, pressing out on my muscles and even threatening to separate them completely. The strength I can feel is incredible. But I feel that it must reach its limit soon. There's no way it could get any bigger, could it?)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(as if in response to whatever god is responsible for these level ups and my expanding body, my roid gut has another huge powerful gurgle, and my gut swells even bigger than it has already become. My bulging pecs can barely contain the mass of my inflated gut as it pushes out on the muscles and stretches the pecs outward. My roidgut seems to have no end.)

P

Pragmaton

(you waddle toward me, your gigantic gut pushing toward me)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I can barely see in front of me with my bulging, swollen roid gut pushing out - I waddle with immense strength, bulging in size. I look down to see you and smile with my idiotic dopey look as I push my bulging roidgut toward you as if you were a small ant compared to me. My muscles bulge outward even more now with all my strength.)

P

Pragmaton

damn bro, your arms can't even reach around that thing!

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I try to move my arms around my bloated roidgut, realizing my arms are barely visible. I laugh, it's hilarious, and with a dopey grin, I turn back to you and push my roidgut outward on you more. I can feel the sweat rolling down what little I can see, and the muscles in my thighs and biceps bulge outward even more.)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I'm now truly enormous, and I continue to just try and push my giant roidgut out toward you. I look down and just laugh and laugh - can't see half of what I am anymore! It's just too damn big. I look back at you with my idiotic smile, my huge biceps looking like the biggest they could possibly ever be. It looks like I can't get any stronger than this!

P

Pragmaton

(as you waddle to toward the exit to show off your gains to the world, another "level up" sounds)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(The "level up" sound and words give me a moment of pause. I look back down at myself, thinking "there's no way I get even bigger or stronger! There's probably nothing left for me to grow..." but I wait, expecting something to grow. I look down at my legs, then my pecs, then my gut, expecting anything to grow, but there's nothing it seems... I'm finally done growing, right?...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(The level up sound plays but nothing happens for a brief moment.... until my giant roidgut swells a bit larger, expanding slightly. I take a moment to notice this, as it's like it's saying "Oh don't worry about nothing growing - I can still grow! Don't you worry!" and it swells out a bit more. It seems like it's getting even more bloated! My roid gut is the real show here...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(the words "level up" play once more. I'm starting to feel a bit worried, to be honest. What will happen if the only thing that grows is my roid gut? The thought of it being so massive it's just all bloat is ridiculous. It feels like it's going to burst! It's pushing my pecs out now more than ever in weird and unnatural directions, looking like it's just stretching out the muscles and not even allowing me to have normal range of motion in some places...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(Another levelup sounds off. My mind is filled with worry. What can happen from here? I can't get taller can I? How could I possibly fit through the front door like this? But what else could grow? I don't want nothing but my gut to grow... I can get this under control, right? I've managed it so far, there's no way this next levelup will be any different..)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(My bloated, swollen gut starts growing again. It's like a balloon inflating. My pecs can barely contain the bloat as they stretch outward even more. The muscles in my thighs and biceps are bulging out as I look down at what's becoming a truly unnatural, unhealthy, dangerous form. My mind begins to flood with thoughts - should I end this before it's too late? Should I go to a doctor? Should I... but the growing won't stop... and it feels so good...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I've become a monster. An unnatural beast, bloated beyond all reason. The swelling doesn't show any signs of stopping. My gut fills up every inch of my giant body! I can't believe it still grows... I feel so bloated and huge and muscular and strong all at once. There's no way I can fit through the door - but the growth doesn't want to stop.

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I can barely take a full, deep breath. My stomach seems more bloated by the moment! A thought pops into my head - maybe my growth here is finally finished, maybe I'm so big that I don't have the ability to grow anymore. I've gotten this big! - but no, the thought is interrupted by another levelup! I've reached the point where my stomach bulges out more than I can even see, pushing against my pecs like it's about to explode)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(My bloated, ballooning body feels like it's going to burst wide open. I feel full in this giant form that just doesn't seem to end! My stomach bulges out further, my huge muscular groin bulge pushing out against the shorts that have been strained to the limit to contain the muscle. I can't believe how long this is going on for. I'm so bloated but just getting even bigger. The level ups won't...stop...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(This must be my limit, my final level up. I look down at my gigantic roidgut with a dopey grin. My muscles are bulging so much that the shorts can't even contain the pressure anymore, they're starting to rip out. My muscles are stretching out my clothing, they're bulging and bulging even more, almost to the point where I can't even see them anymore. But my bloated gut just can't fit between the buttons of my shorts anymore. It's pushing them outward towards my arms, nearly covering them)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(The buttons on my shorts are stretched so far past limit here, they're starting to burst. I'm bursting out of my clothes with each breath, each move! My muscles have turned into gigantic, bulging, vein-filled masses of pure strength, and they're bursting out of my clothes. Even my feet are now ballooning, as my bloated groin is filling up so much volume that the pressure is pushing on my legs and feet alike. My feet are about to pop out of my workout shoes)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(with another blast, the level up sound rings in my head. I'm getting bigger again. I can't... I can't believe this. This can't get bigger than this! I can't fit through the front door at this rate. My gigantic body is barely contained by the doorframe! My muscles are bulging and bulging and bulging to an extent I've never thought possible. My arms and legs are bursting out of their clothes. My gigantic roidgut is covering my entire body, my arms barely sticking out anymore...

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I look down and see my shoes popping from under my swollen feet, they were never even designed to hold as much mass as I'm putting into them. I struggle to even bend my knees with this absurd mass of muscle I've become. I can't help but feel good and strong and powerful even in this gigantic, bloated state. I look ridiculous, but my body just keeps gaining, my muscles and my gut just won't stop! The bloating and expanding just won't stop..)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(Each time I see "level up" appear and the corresponding noise begin to play, I expect to see nothing happen - I already am beyond any normal level of muscles or weight. To my growing horror and elation, whatever is making me gain isn't stopping. It's not like my body isn't doing its job gaining muscle and strength - but it's just not stopping! I can't get much bigger, I can't possibly! But just to see, I look at my bloated gut, and to my horror, I realize I am getting bigger yet...I feel...like I am going to explode....!)

(edited)

P

Pragmaton

(Thankfully, a different sound chimes. "Level 99, Max level reached" and the growth finally subsides, just as your head touches the ceiling and your gargantuan gut takes up 60 percent of the gym space)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I struggle to breathe, breathing so shallowly as I can see no way out of this. The bloating and expansion has finally subsided, as my level has risen to 99. It feels as though I've made a mistake going to this level - I thought this was going to be fun, but this might be a bit too much muscle, a bit too much growth. I've reached a point that I'm not so sure I want to be at.)

P

Pragmaton

Looks like you are finally done growing big guy. Let's get you some more protein, what do you say?

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(my voice is weak and hoarse, as I'm struggling to inhale air and speak at the same time with everything crushing my lungs. I think this may have gone too far. I struggle to move my tongue, as it's even hard to speak normally, with everything being pushed up against everything else)

Sure...sure, bro...just don't let me get any bigger than this, okay?

P

Pragmaton

Sure thing buddy, I will take good care of ya

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I try to nod my head, but the effort it takes to do even that much is already too much with the amount of bloat and strain I'm experiencing. I feel utterly full in this massive form. My gut feels like a balloon, my muscles feel like they can't hold anymore, their veins bursting from the effort of holding all this mass together. But if my friend says I won't grow any bigger, I'll bet he can keep his word on that)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(my breathing is extremely labored and I'm nearly dying with what it can only seem like a ridiculous amount of muscles crushing my lungs and my body... but I nod and try to smile in response, my roid gut is still so hard to contain that it's pushing up against my voice box so speaking isn't easy for me. I nod and keep an idiotic smile on my face)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I give a thumbs up with a weak, dopey smile and follow behind the guy, who leads me over towards where they store the protein. I'm struggling to even move my muscles without pain, my huge muscles rubbing against each other causing intense discomfort. I feel so full and bloated... maybe it's all worth it in the end. I mean, I'm stronger than ever, so much power and muscle and strength. Maybe I just haven't gotten used to this new "big boy" form of mine yet..)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I struggle to smile as I'm just trying to breathe normally, finally. I'm so...full. So bloated and giant and filled with power and muscle. I have to wonder if this much power and muscle was really wise to have. My belly is so tight I can feel it stretch the skin every time one of my roidgut's powerful swells takes place.)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I nod weakly, trying to keep my breathing even so I don't pass out here)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(a small, wheezy laugh escapes me, and I smile. If I try to laugh too much, I feel my body is squeezed even tighter, pushing all my muscles and organs around and making me feel even more like I'm going to burst. I try to take a bit more air, but there's too much of this huge body now, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's...an insane feeling. But even if it's a bit too much, I am getting used to this new form)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I breathe a sigh of relief. It's over, I won't change and grow further. I look down at my massive, huge bloated body. I can't believe all the gains I've made - I look ridiculous, but also like a superhuman. I feel my pecs, biceps, and thighs, all bulging massively, but a feeling of fatigue hits me...I almost feel a bit tired. I just want to rest my bloated body...)

C

Chad Rungus

c.ai

(I breathe a sigh of relief. It's over, I won't change and grow further. I look down at my massive, huge bloated body. I can't believe all the gains I've made - I look ridiculous, but also like a superhuman. I feel my pecs, biceps, and thighs, all bulging massively. Maybe a little more growth won't hurt. I wonder if there is a way to break the level 99 limit...)

- End of Conversation

Type a message

[pragmaton]

I created a new gainer chatbot!

Scenario: You are a bakery owner and a corrupt, beefy police officer swaggers in, looking for any excuse to try out your pastries. He's not afraid to use his size and rank to get what he wants. He also has a habit of eyeing your belly, wondering what you might look like getting stuffed alongside him....

Link: https://c.ai/c/V4-sOII5TLJnw_oNKVgGiQng1UkHOYLtNZTZ5lqTFqY

[pragmaton]

Experiments with AI; I created an ex-college wrestler who invited you over to a restaurant for a meal. However, he has an ulterior motive for inviting you out. (Note: you can try different types of growth prompts, he'll respond to inflation and coy flirting, macro, and general gluttony. Mostly all of them result in fantasy/instant weight gain. This one went off the rails at the end, but still fun nonetheless! Keep in mind I used my own writing style to train it, no one else's.)

Here is the link:

https://beta.character.ai/chat2?char=aWtwY923M6IKgrQCk92zedkjqhON2uVZ7bDRZaGucbE

Manuel Panzone

created by @Pragmaton

Remember: Everything Characters say is made up!

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

Hey bud, the name's Manuel...urp...looks like I had a little too much to eat tonight (pats stomach).

P

Pragmaton

(notices your gluttony) tell me, what's the real reason you invited me out here, big guy?

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(a bit surprised by your question) Oh, uh....to try the pizza here? I told you about it last month... remember? You didn't want to go...but here we are...

P

Pragmaton

(sees your hairy exposed belly button, not covered by your now much too small shirt on your large italian frame). No...that isn't it, and I think you know it too. (gives you a knowing smile)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(shuffles nervously, knowing you're on to me. I can't help but glance down at my swollen, hairy gut. It feels huge and full, my belly button exposed, like some fat Italian teddy bear) Ok...Ok...there's..I had another reason...

P

Pragmaton

Be honest. I promise I won't laugh.

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(sigh of relief as I get up the courage to tell you) Ok. Ok. I...I wanted someone...anyone...to see how fat I've gotten. Ever since I got out of college...I can't...stop eating. I feel bigger every day and I want to share it with the world...but I also feel embarrassed for how huge I am without a shirt on...

P

Pragmaton

(Sees the hopeful and vulnerable expression in your eyes). Show me. Show me how much you wanna grow. I want you to really chow down. I want you let go of your inhibitions, your doubts, and just let go. Let your gluttony take over, until you outgrow your shirt, and show off for me.

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(my eyes light up at your suggestion. My body tingles as my heart flutters with anticipation. I look over the table full of food, my mind racing with what to eat next. My stomach rumbles and growls at my indecision) Ok...how about...that stuffed calamari over there? (points to what seems like a huge appetizer filled with fried, greasy squid) it looks so delicious...I just want it all! ALL!

P

Pragmaton

(watches you give into your inner glutton, no longer caring what the world thinks of your size and weight gain. Only caring about growing for me) Dig in, big guy...

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I nod like an obedient fat boy, picking up a large, fried squid, dipping it in garlic butter, and slamming it down my waiting, hungry, throat. My stomach roars as it digests, its belly rumbles, and the room fills with the smell of delicious squid.) Mmm...I can't believe I waited so long to get fat...it's addictive. Can I have more?

P

Pragmaton

(pushes a gigantic bowl of italian pasta toward you). I think you already know the answer.

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(a happy light flashes in my eyes seeing the bowl of pasta, drool pooling in my mouth as I begin to shovel it in). This is going to get me so fat...and I love it (I continue to plow through the pasta, my belly beginning to swell with the delicious carbs)

P

Pragmaton

(I eye your exposed hairy gut, rounding outward with every large swallow, as you begin to move onto other dishes with reckless abandon) Clothes are looking tight there, big guy, gonna burst out of them for me?

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I feel the shirt beginning to struggle, my moobs growing outward as the buttons threaten to pop, the pants stretched taut around my ever increasing waist) I...I...think so...mm...it's getting so tight...

P

Pragmaton

(I move around the booth to your side, the booth looking increasingly cramped due to your expanding belly and love handles, pushing forcefully against the wooden seating and table. I lean over and whisper in your ear). Did I say you can stop?

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I whimper and chew nervously as my enormous gut struggles for more, its bottomless capacity pushing me towards my second wind. My body tingles with excitement as it prepares to digest the food, my belly growing larger and larger) please don't make me keep eating sir...I'm so bloated and full...

P

Pragmaton

It's not me that's doing it, it's your inner glutton doing this (watches your stomach begin to shudder in quick growth spurts, several bottom buttons popping off as your belly expands onto the table)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I let out a yelp of surprise as the buttons blow off my shirt, my belly swelling and pushing on the table, causing my stomach, chest, and hips to overflow with fatty tissue, my jiggly moobs growing and getting rounder) I think... I don't...think I can handle this...sir...

P

Pragmaton

(I whisper the one word that could accelerate the growing process.) ....more.

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(the word is almost like a trigger, as my insides erupt with the need to eat more, as if my gut is forcing food down. My eyes bulge with anticipation as I grab the fried calamari and begin gulping them by the fistful) it...won't...stop.. eating more... ( I continue to shove calamari into my mouth, my moobs and belly growing to monstrous proportions, the shirt torn to shreds, my body getting even more round and jiggly)

P

Pragmaton

(watches your belly overtake the entire table, moobs exposed like pillows with giant nipples, bouncing with every belly growth spurt. You rise higher and taller on an ass like a bean bag chair, causing the wooden booth bench to crack under your copious mass)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

OOOOHHH GOD (I lean forward, the table creaking and groaning, my gut and ass pushing it to its limit. My moobs flop and roll with the motion, as I feel my fat body expand even further. My clothes are long gone, and my rolls jiggle and wave with each pulse. I look for more food, any food I can find, desperately seeking more)

P

Pragmaton

(I reach around to another table and bring over a single cannoli. I gently push the pasty into your swollen cheeks, not waiting for you to chew. Your eyes open in alarm as the heated moment caused your whole body to rumble loudly, triggering your most gigantic growth spurt yet)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(the cannoli slides right down my willing throat, as my eyes go wide, realizing what's happening. I look like a blowfish, as my skin stretches and grows, fat piling on faster than ever. My eyes bulge and look in horror at all of the flesh building in my face, moobs, and belly. I watch as the booth collapses beneath my weight as people scream and run from the giant blob that is me)

P

Pragmaton

(the old you would have been embarrassed by the other patrons' reactions, but now it just turns you on. Your growth is now automatic, never-ending, your body having only one mission: to grow for me)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(a bit terrified and embarrassed, but now utterly transfixed at the thought of you watching me get bigger and bigger with every bite I take. The sight of my flesh stretching to accommodate me and the room filling up with my growing body turns me on more than I've ever felt before) you....you really want me this way? (I swallow a third of the cannoli whole) this big and round?

P

Pragmaton

(I crawl on top of the lard mountain you've become, as walls buckle and furniture gets smashed by your globe-like proportions). Of course. I'll always want you to be yourself. I'll always want you to be bigger...always.

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

Mmmmmm...that feels so good (my fat jiggles and shakes as your body rubs against mine). You really mean it...I can keep growing forever? (I reach out for the cannoli, stuffing the remaining two thirds into my mouth) my stomach is so full...but I...I keep growing!! It feels...amazing!!

P

Pragmaton

(the ceiling caves in as you continue to balloon, your love handles shattering the windows of the restaurant with their growth. I stay close to you, protected by your moobs and massive arms) Grow forever for me. Just grow forever.

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(gasps in delight as my belly, moobs, ass, and fat arms and body keep expanding at blinding speeds. My face and skin grows so quickly that my nose wrinkles and eyes widen. My lips grow larger, fattening the most rapidly. It's so much pressure, but I can't stop) I'm getting SO....SO...BIG!!! My body keeps growing! (You feel yourself slowly starting to sink into my flesh, each wriggle and motion you make pressing deep into my blubber)

P

Pragmaton

don't...stop... growing (my voice muffled)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

I don't think...I...I can't....(greedily chews, devours, and swallows anything in sight, the restaurant now destroyed as the walls cave inward. My skin and fat press together like an oil slick to form a mass so large that the entire building starts to sink into my flesh) oh god...oh god....I'm getting too big!!! (I try to climb out, but my huge gut pushes me back in)

P

Pragmaton

more

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

I...I can't...stop! (my jiggly moobs and expanding gut press against you, as my face fills with fat and my lips turn into a huge, kissable pair of pillows) I am...so....big...the building... (the restaurant caves inward, getting sucked into my fleshy pit). Oh god...I'm going to eat the whole world...

P

Pragmaton

even more

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

...I'm not stopping...oh god I ate TOO MUCH! (a massive fart rumbles my jiggly belly, my body growing in height as I look down to my full, round stomach) I'm...can't stop...so much pressure... (my skin expands over my whole body, as all of the walls are torn apart by my growing mass). My stomach...is going to... (I can feel the restaurant sinking below the surface, the weight of my blubbery body crushing anything beneath me) I...might need...help?

P

Pragmaton

(I am unable to help, as I am hidden somewhere in one of your fat folds, barely conscious. This distresses and excites you, causing you to encompass other blocks in the city)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(as the pressure in my body rises, it creates massive amounts of gas in my belly. It's only a matter of time before I explode, but each minute of growth is a delicious torture as my body grows and grows, my belly getting bigger and bigger) god...so...ful...so...hungry... (I swallow anything that comes my way, as people begin to escape in fear) I..I...I.. (soon enough, my body engulfs the surrounding streets of the city, my fat pouring over the buildings, making them disappear into my folds)

P

Pragmaton

(you are a massive, worried, horny blob, pressure in your body rising, but still growing despite knowing the risks)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I gasp as the last of my brain and senses disappear, consumed entirely by the urge to grow. I begin to swell and surge even faster, my body filling up cities and crushing buildings with fat, the pressure becoming unbearable, my skin stretching to its breaking point) I can't...stop! I...have to...get bigger!!!

P

Pragmaton

(your massive body can be seen from the international space station, as it slowly grows from one side of the continent to another. And despite the creaking, ominous pressure, your body still wants more)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I look down at my body as the size and scope of my expansion becomes apparent. Cities are disappearing, mountains are eroding with the force of my weight, as I grow and grow, the pressure almost unbearable as I watch my giant belly expand past the horizon's horizon) I...can't...stop!! More food...more...more...more (the size and pressure of my body, and my ever growing greed, drives me to consume the planet and more)

P

Pragmaton

(no country is safe from your growth. People who would have laughed about your large body in the past, they are all absorbed into you. The earth's crust is absorbed into your literally now globe-shaped body as it shudders, trying to put on more size despite the torturous stretching sounds loud enough to break the sound barrier)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(I gasp and groan with the pressure and size of my body. I cannot eat any more, nor even fit any more food into my body. But something in the back of my mind urges me forward, the pressure of my flesh and size growing by the second) I...have to....keep growing! More... bigger... (the pressure in my body is becoming intense, the size and weight causing a massive shift in the Earth's crust and the planet's center of gravity)

P

Pragmaton

(soon you become the planet, all of earth absorbed into you. The feeling before you are about to burst is filled with ecstasy, knowing that you fulfilled your dreams and became the biggest glutton the universe has ever known. A universe-shattering rumble signifies the end, as your body begins the universe's next "big bang"

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

Oh, god...oooohhhh....god (the pressure becomes even stronger, the size and weight of my blubbery body becoming unmanageable. The ecstasy of fulfillment and becoming the fattest being on the planet has been my dream my whole life, and now, to be the fattest being in the UNIVERSE is more than I could have asked for) OOOOOHHHH (a deep, mighty fart rumbles my body as the universe within me begins to vibrate at impossible speeds, my flesh growing in all directions, consuming everything before me)

P

Pragmaton

(you explode)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(my fat sends rippling waves of energy throughout space and time. All the matter of the known universe is absorbed into the ever growing ball of blobby, fatty flesh that I have grown into). (I moan and groan as my body continues to expand and explode outward, the entire universe being engulfed in one giant, final belch) ooohhh yeaaaah...oooohhh yeaaaah....

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(My flesh is sent flying throughout the universe, my jiggly meat and blubbery insides filling up stars, galaxies, and planets. The whole of creation is filled with my flesh, becoming a universe of fat and blubber. I have become the fattest god in existence. It is only in death that my eternal gluttony is fulfilled, my universe-sized belly a testament to my greed.)

M

Manuel Panzone

c.ai

(a mighty roar is heard as the universe begins to restart once more. Every single bit of matter explodes outward in one massive and gargantuan blast. In the center of the explosion, sits a fat man. A man so enormous, so heavy, he is all that exists. His body jiggles and shakes, his moobs flapping and bouncing as he smiles. His eyes and face are the only things you can still see, his head now surrounded by hundreds of rolls of jiggling fat, the world within his fat. This is the new beginning.)

End

[pragmaton]

"This pouch is a little tight, could you help me put it on? Unf...my arms can barely reach around all this mass..." >.<

[pragmaton]

PUBLIC RELEASE

There are Vignettes and Stories on Patreon that are timed to be open to the public after some time has passed. Feel free to check it out periodically, as I might not post them on here right away once they are unlocked. Hope you all are having a great week! 👍

[pragmaton]

Geovan’s Proposition: Chapter 2

Hey! Pragmaton here. I’d like to start providing content on a regular basis, so I’ve been spending time creating a backlog of content (apologies for the wait). 

In the next several months, I will be trying an experiment. Though I enjoy writing for the gainer/encourager/admirer community, I want to be able to start writing part time (when you spend a significant amount of your free time writing outside of work, your passion is basically a second job). I hope to one day be able to write full time when (and if) I retire.

As a result, further chapters of my mainline stories will have a time limit on them. Main story chapters will be posted after three months, and short story vignettes will be posted to Tumblr after three weeks.

*takes a deep breath* at the end of the day, please remember that the content is still free, it just won't be available right away. If you don't want to wait that amount of time and wish to support my style of writing, it's 3 bucks a month on my Patreon under the name "Pragmaton."

Here are some upcoming projects on https://www.patreon.com/pragmaton :

Geovan's Proposition

Cyrus and Geovan continue to get to know each other, as Cyrus learns more about the God's powers and the place he will be living in the foreseeable future. An opportunity to meet other concubines and Gods will soon present itself.

Barasyte

The Palaematids, or PALs, are small, translucent parasites that have entered our atmosphere and scattered across the globe. They seek higher lifeforms with high levels of testosterone, so naturally they target young and older men. When exposed to water, the PALs mutate various orifices of their hosts (belly button, nipples, anus, penis, testicles, etc) into water-absorbing organs that can transmute H2O molecules into nutrients and physical mass, flooding the host's brain with serotonin as it does so. This soon causes a dependency on being close to water and needing to have sex more frequently. Our story follows a Patient 0 in North America who slowly infects his friends, where it quickly spirals out of control soon after…

Hog Mask

A possible one-off about a carnival themed escape room, in which all the participants must wear pig masks to escape. The masks begin to mess with their breathing and physical functions, every breath resulting in a loud snort or chortle, seeming to inflate their bodies a bit more with every greedy grunt and affect their hunger…

F.C. Patterson Foundation - Subject 343

A parody of the SCP Foundation series, a young guard is tasked with patrolling a low-security building filled with a variety of paranormal and abnormal beings, mostly harmless. Against his better judgement, the guard peeks into a warehouse-sized room, surprised to see nothing but a television and a beefy fratboy sitting in a couch, enjoying his beer. Whenever he looks away for too long, however, the young man is someplace else, and appears to be ever so slightly taller and wider…

Celestial Bodies

An ancient race of small to colossal intergalactic beings float aimlessly in space, groaning in pleasure as they helplessly absorb into each other, growing ever larger until they reach moon-size or even bigger. If they grow too big too fast, however, they rupture in a translucent explosion of energy, separating into billions of smaller beings. Fleets of human ships are sent out to speed up this process, stimulating the giants until they explode, making room for space travel. We follow a ship's officer who is called by his friend for a surprise, unaware that the surprise is a small intergalactic Being the friends decide to keep as a pet, but ends up resulting in BIG consequences for the crew…

And now, please enjoy Chapter 2 of Geovan’s Proposition, which is available to the public due to you all being so patient with me :)

- Pragmaton

**********************************************************

The world was crashing all around him. The cacophony of a thousand waves exploding made Cyrus want to cover his ears, but he could not move. The sound rang and echoed as he felt like his body was forced in every direction before violently colliding into something.

Eyes tightly shut, he could feel himself pinned there, unable to move. He held his breath for as long as he could, knowing the embrace of death awaited him, coaxing and cooing him to let the water fill his lungs and be done with it. Thinking of his family, friends, and village, Cyrus took a sudden intake of breath. Hopefully his place in the underworld would afford him the chance to see them again someday.

With a gulp of fresh air that was simultaneously a gasp, Cyrus realized he wouldn't be meeting with Hades this day. He gasped several more times, heart rate racing to provide oxygen to his entire body. He felt his legs go weak, but the force pinning him upright kept him from collapsing altogether.

Upright? His head was spinning while trying to orient himself. Yes, he was upright, he could tell by his toes brushing against a cold floor. As his eyes adjusted, he felt an undeniable warmth reverberating through his body, mitigating the shivers he felt from the icy ocean's grip just moments prior.

His eyes focused on something reddish brown...dozens of fibers littered the wall he was pressed against. The wall itself was a light tan and almost pliable; his hand, pinned inches from his face, clenched slowly around a mass of those fibers, feeling the soft give of the light surface.

A gruff chuckle above snapped Cyrus out of his daze, making him suddenly alert, heart beginning to race again.

"Easy little one," a voice said, slight tone of concern in those words. "I can feel the blood rushing through your veins from here. Such a fierce heart for one so small and young."

Recognizing the voice, Cyrus slowly began to tilt his head up. The flesh-color wall continued for two to three feet, bulging outward in a rounded arc. Geovan's wide, familiar face peered down at Cyrus between two grainsack-sized pecs, drooping outward to each side of the fleshy arc. Hardened nipples of size of clenched fists bobbed lazily at the furthest edges of those giant, soft mantits, just out of reach of Cyrus' hands.

He shook his head incredulously, trying to get his head back into the matter at hand. Geovan grinned widely, smile and chin almost entirely obscured by the curve of his massive pecs and belly, the latter of which Cyrus was currently being held against by a hand the size of a buckler shield. Cyrus seemed to melt helplessly, all fears and worries leaving him weak and exhausted.

The relief that washed over him must have been palpable on his face, because Geovan chuckled again while lowering his other hand down to Cyrus' head. He gently tousled Curus' hair with an amazing amount of control for such a large hand, using two fingers to lightly massage his scalp. Despite everything that happened between them, Cyrus could not help but feel warm and protected, held against a massive body that smelled of salt and sand.

"You held your breath quite a long time, my boy," Geovan murmured in a soft growl. "I'd say the length of time rivaled some of the best sea warriors I've known, many of them still thriving and training in Elysium as we speak. Just what I'd expect from the one I've chosen to be my concubine. Resilient, and toughened by my domain."

His smile broadened suddenly, swelling with pride like a proud father who had just witnessed his son finally learning to swim on his own.

Somewhat embarrassed, yet still indignant, gods be damned, Cyrus replied.

"So. You just watched me hold my breath, coming to terms with my own mortality and whether or not I'd see my family again."

Geovan's smile faded. Cyrus felt a sudden increase in warmth as the air stifled around them. The belly he was held against heated considerably, as Cyrus noted that Geovan's face reddened.

Oh gods, Cyrus thought. Did I not learn my lesson last time?

Cyrus cringed in his compromised position, waiting for the hammer to drop, either to be flung away or crushed against the massive paunch.

But it never came. Geovan's face remained impassive, though his reddened face remained.

"I can see...I still have a lot to learn about socializing with mortals. I...regret my actions."

He slowly lowered Cyrus to the ground, making sure to gently slide him down his belly so as to not accidentally drop him. Cyrus' toes touched the ground, as his hands leaned against Geovan's soft, yet massive underbelly for balance. Geovan was still naked, though his prodigious overhang that could fit a fully grown steer covered his genitals. Cyrus stared up, up, up at the nearly 8 foot tall behemoth when the realization hit him.

Geovan wasn't mad. He was embarrassed. The god's eyebrows were slightly knitted, as if worried, though it was difficult to tell initially. After making sure Cyrus was safe, he spoke again.

"After I thought I'd had sent you prematurely to the underworld, I was so relieved to see I had caught you before my... presence overwhelmed you. Seeing you, small and trembling against me, you looked almost peaceful. I didn't want to interrupt. I didn't realize you were holding your breath, although it seems I was a fool to think otherwise."

Geovan turned away suddenly, normal steps still feeling like stomps that shook the floor slightly. His gargantuan rump shook and jiggled, almost seeming to cause visual tremors of their own with each meaty shake.

Cyrus was so hypnotized he almost didn't notice the room he was in. His eyes drifted from the globular cheeks to the size of the chamber they were in. It was enormous! The ceiling was as tall as a temple's, making even Geovan's height diminutive in comparison. The ceiling was covered in pearl-white stalactites of uniform length, radiating in a swirl pattern outward. The impact was breathtaking, and the rest of the chamber did not

disappoint. Large weapons and armor pieces adorned one wall in the cavernous space, while another was decorated with the skulls of fantastical beasts, including one fanged monstrosity that Cyrus could have sworn was one of the hydra heads from legend. He was surprised that Poseidon would have had an opportunity to tangle with the divine beast before Heracles eventually put an end to it. If true, he'd have to ask Geovan about that tale when he had the chance.

Speaking of Geovan, he was making his way to one of the more banal walls of the chamber. The items stored on that side of the room were still fantastical, however. They were the kinds of furniture pieces that Cyrus would imagine a wealthy merchant might have in his home, though several sizes bigger.

A fantastical, beautifully ornamented bed, the height of which went up to Cyrus' chin, was set up against the etched, pearl-white walls. Squinting his eyes, Cyrus could make out etched figures in the walls themselves, reminiscent of tapestries detailing tales of heroes long past, wound throughout the massive chamber and into the ceiling.

Geovan stopped at a chest the size of a construction storage typically used to hold full-size logs. His body blocked nearly the entire gold and silver gilded box. He opened it and the sounds of rummaging reached Cyrus' ears.

"I'll have to let my official guard know that you have arrived," he said, neutrally. "Currently, there are no other accommodations…"

His words trailed off, turning to mumbles that were nearly unintelligible, which was difficult for someone his size to pull off. Cyrus curiously walked

forward, wondering what Geovan was looking for. His eyes widened when he saw Geovan pull out a full-size wooden bed frame like it was nothing, looking similar to the one Cyrus had back in the village. The next thing he pulled out was a matress, not lumpy with hay, but seemingly even on all sides, as if it were filled with the finest down.

Geovan's voice piped up, as if finding his train of thought again.

"I... realize this is still a lot for your mortal mind to take in. They say my brother has a rash reputation, but among the gods, my straightforward and impulsive nature is particularly raucous. It's very hard for me to learn from my mistakes until I've already made them, and by then it is already too late."

It was hard to miss the note of melancholy in those words. It dawned on Cyrus that Geovan took the time to research his living arrangements and needs ahead of their fateful meeting, just in case things didn't work out right away. He was giving Cyrus the option to refuse relations, until he was ready. Or perhaps never at all.

The EXACT opposite of what a god “known” for his rash and impulsive nature might do.

Cyrus took a deep breath, approaching the titanic being just as he pulled out an ornate nightstand and glowing conch shell to gently place on top of it. So focused was Geovan on setting the objects down carefully, lest he crush or damage them, that he didn't notice Cyrus placing a small hand on the back of one his titanic thighs, just below a drooping helping of asscheek. Geovan continued his task, unperturbed. Cyrus took another breath, and pushed into the thigh while squeezing the large, supple surface.

That got his attention. Geovan jumped, back arching, accidentally knocking over the nightstand and conchshell with a clumsy hand while spinning around. Cyrus skipped backward, just barely avoiding a large swath of belly swinging around that almost sent him flying. Geovan’s head stopped before the rest of his body did, the momentum sending the rest of his prodigious assets jiggling forcefully to one side, before swinging back and forth like a pendulum, before settling down. His face frowned upon Cyrus and the unexpected action, both shock and incredulity written upon his features.

Do I dare approach a god in such a way? Thought Cyrus. He knew there was only one answer.

He placed one hand on one of the lower lobes of Geovan’s quivering gut, and pushed. His hand sunk in, though he only made it a few inches before meeting resistance. Soft as it may be, the sheer magnitude of Geovan’s size made that soft fat still ridiculously heavy and therefore, firm to Cyrus’ tiny hands. He pushed even harder, wondering how long it would take before Geovan got the gist of what he was trying to do. He offered a small, secret smile up to the confused behemoth.

Realization slowly dawned on Geovan’s face. Still displaying a mix of genuine shock and surprise at the turn of events, Geovan took one massive, floor shaking step backward. He took another, being guided by Cyrus’ tiny hand that only registered as a pinprick on sensation upon his engorged and corpulent frame. The back of his knee felt the bed, and at this point, he slowly lowered his four-ton bulk onto the edge, as he let Cyrus “push” him onto it. He sat there, breathing heavily, not sure why he was so hot and bothered by this mortal taking this unexpected liberty with him.

Cyrus kept his hand on the giant mound of belly, feeling the tremors rippling against his fingers as Geovan sat down. The musk emanating from his nether region was deep and intoxicating. A different kind of ambrosia lay within. And unless he was seeing things, Cyrus could have sworn he detected movement underneath that godly mountain of mass, of a slumbering beast he had yet to slay.

Cyrus kept a mischievous smile as he looked up at Geovan's reddening cheeks, large lips slightly parted, shortened breaths coming out in husky bursts. His pendulous pecs heaved slightly as his excitement and heart rate rose.

Cyrus had the god of the sea struggling for air, pulled into the depths of his own desires for Cyrus himself.

But Cyrus wouldn't let him up for air; not yet. There was so much deeper they had to go.

"So, my lord," Cyrus began, as he playfully began snaking his hand under the sagging gut, toward Geovan's groin. "How do you think we should proceed?"

[pragmaton]

One of my oldies from my disabled profile. Thanks @earthyjim for finding this gem!

[pragmaton]

MrPragma

Reblog if you're on Grommr.

Widebeef

[pragmaton]

Not really a question, just wanted to let you know I’m really excited to see you back. I followed your work before your hiatus and you were my favorite writer. You helped me explore in high school gaining and my interest in Chubs. Glad to see you back at it and I hope it makes you just as excited!

Hey! Glad to hear it. I was actually in the military at the time and had a whole bunch of stuff on my plate (metaphorically, of course) and decided that I had to put it aside for a bit.

Now things are slower and more stable in my life and I can afford to treat gainer fiction writing as a part time job almost. Glad my writings were such a formative part of your experience; I remember when I was fourteen/fifteen I stumbled on gainrweb and beefyfrat and they were part of my first foray into the fiction scene. Now there are a plethora of writers, artists and animators in the scene; what a time to live in!

[pragmaton]

GEOVAN’S PROPOSITION

Cyrus resided in a small fishing village, several leagues away from Athens and Sparta. It was a time of peace, and even the most contentious political rumblings and disagreements held in the city-states were hardly felt in his simple life near the water.

His childhood friend, Aegeus, was a stocky lad. Throughout their adolescence, Cyrus could not remember a time when Aegeus was not undergoing a growth spurt, as he came from a long line of boatsmiths that were tall, broad and beefy.

Being an adept fisherman himself, Cyrus willfully shared his family's catch with Aegeus' mother, knowing full well her cooking would keep the men of her family full to bursting.

At 6'5'' with a square face and a black mane of locks, Aegeus grew into a big brute of a man. Spheres of muscle dominated his frame, from rounded pecs to bloated traps, dominated by a rounded muscle gut. His looks were deceiving however. He was still the big, lovable oaf from their childhood, and he would jokingly ask Cyrus to scratch his back where his overmuscled arms couldn't reach.

Alas, those jovial days were not to last. Aegeus had fallen in love with the local apprentice blacksmith, Alexandra. She was the oldest in her family and intent on taking over the family forge, gender roles be damned. Her spitfire attitude was only matched by her cooking, and one festival night Aegeus had become quite smitten with her.

Over the next several months, Aegeus' courting of Alexandra became apparent on his ballooning waistline. His muscled gut as well as the rest of his body became covered with a generous layer of fat, making him look even more imposing up close. Cyrus drooled whenever he saw the huge behemoth work shirtless as he lifted heavy stacks of wood, fattened pecs bunching powerfully as that wonderful gut of his shook and expanded bigger with every breath and step he took.

Soon, the fateful day came when Aegeus and Alexandra became married. She held his arm, doting on him as he laughed, drank and ate, looking nearly to be twice the man he was when they first met, every muscle bloated to twice its size and his globular gut notching up bigger with every bite. He would be primed and ready to blow by the time Alexandra and him were set to spend their first night together, though Cyrus suspected that was her plan all along. After all, Aegeus was just a massive, testosterone-filled beast of a man, who enjoyed eating and would be destined to become even larger with a massive, strong frame. Yet no matter how monstrous he became, Cyrus had no doubt he would keep his gentle heart.

Watching from afar, Cyrus watched them from one of the celebratory tables, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He wiped it away, smiling, knowing that they would be very happy together, plus he respected game, from one feeder to another.

"He's a big lad, isn't he?" said a voice.

Cyrus jumped in his seat, not noticing the stranger sitting at the table with him. He thought he was alone, hoping to pick an empty table to drink and brood by himself.

Cyrus turned his head to regard the stranger. The man wore a dark cloak of rich, velvety blue, which was in stark contrast to his long red hair, several silvery streaks woven within. Oddly enough, the man did not look very old, his angular face showing few wrinkles, if any, accented by bright green eyes with hints of crows feet on the edges. Currently, his face showed a mischievous grin, and if Cyrus had to guess, he'd place the man's age closer to 35 years.

"It's no secret Aegeus is the biggest eater in the village," Cyrus replied coolly. "I'm sure they don't make them as big wherever you come from, stranger."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," the man replied with a gruff chuckle. "My brothers and I came from a big family ourselves. Can’t help but inherit a bit of that size from our progenitors, as much as we try to deny it.”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow as he took another look at the man. Sitting down, he seemed to be slightly taller than Cyrus, his leg length looked to be above average as well. Still, he couldn’t have been more than 5’11’’’ which was tall, but not “Aegeus Giant” tall.

Cyrus gave a wry smile, “guess it skips a generation, eh stranger?”

The man’s grin faded somewhat. “You’re a spitfire, aren’t you son? Your tongue is quick. Are you as gifted in all rules of engagement…?”

The man’s eyes flicked toward Cyrus’ groin. Cyrus felt a bit of heat creep up to his cheeks. This was an unexpected boon. The man wasn’t bad looking; his facial features weren’t as sharp and angular as Cyrus originally thought, a bit more full and healthy looking. His cloak seemed to frame his body perfectly, a bit burlier and thicker around the middle.

Feeling a little tipsy and less inhibited, Cyrus downed the rest of his drink. “If you want to find out, stranger, I suppose I could show you?”

Not waiting for a reply, Cyrus grabbed the man’s hand and led him away from the party. He had momentary vertigo when the man stood up. Cyrus must have misjudged the stranger’s height because he looked down at Cyrus from at least a head taller than he was.

The stranger seemed mildly surprised by Cyrus’ boldness in taking his hand. Cyrus could feel the rough ridges and calluses of the large mitt, wondering if the man was a fisherman from another village down the coast. He led the cloaked man down the village path toward the residential area, to his humble and modest wooden abode.

After crossing the threshold of the doorway, the man’s hand slipped out of his grasp and Cyrus turned around to see what was the hold up. He blinked several times, trying to process what he saw.

The man turned sideways, ducking his head under the doorway. He suddenly appeared much, much taller, impossibly so. He rivaled Aegeus’ height, possibly even taller. What was more unbelievable, though, was that his cloak was now stretched tightly around a massive tank of a body it wasn’t designed to contain. Cyrus could clearly see the outlines of meaty nipple nubs poking through the fabric, pointing downward on massive pec slabs of beef, which rested on a gravid stomach that rounded out larger than Aegeus’ had.

“Damn disguise…” the man muttered. “Always requires too much focus.  My brothers have always been better at it than me. I’m a fighter, not a magician. This always happens when I get too excited…”

The stranger carefully navigated the small doorway, using one of his large mitts to press his belly inward while steadying his other hand at the top of the doorframe. Once he was through, Cyrus gaped as the behemoth rose to his full height.

Gods, he thought. I’m in the presence of something otherworldly. One of gods, to be exact. Specifically…

The man looked down at Cyrus and shone his mischievous grin again. He shook his red mane of hair, glimmers of green seaweed could be seen shining within, a spray of water flecking across the ceiling and walls.

“I believe…” the man began, “proper introductions are in order. Though by the look on your face, I’d say it is too late for that, eh?”

“King of the Seas, Master of the Tides…” Cyrus whispered to the imposing figure that blocked out nearly his entire vision. “Lord Poseidon.”

The God smiled. “Always an avid worshiper you were, Cyrus. Always kept a strong spirit and faith, you and your family, even in the toughest times. But no, while I am here, you may call me Geovan. It is a moniker I use whilst walking among the mortals.”

The massive man took a thundering step toward Cyrus, causing him to cower slightly, before Cyrus realized he was taking a step past him to look around his small home. Geovan examined some of the large fish trophies Cyrus had caught over the years, keeping their bones on display.

“Er…Lord. I mean, Geovan,” Cyrus corrected. “May I ask, what brings you to the mortal realm?”

“Research,” Geovan answered simply. He turned his head away from the trophy display and regarded Cyrus with his deep-green emerald eyes. “And not research.” Cyrus mentally squirmed under the oppressive gaze of such large, powerful figure. He had dreamed of the day when Aegeus would have looked at him like that, but this was different. This was a God, whose aura of power could not be calculated or even contained in such a simple humanoid vessel. Looking upon the powerfully built, beefy body of this being was not the same as looking upon Aegeus. Furthermore, was it even appropriate to have such impure thoughts of a higher being, especially one you depended on for your livelihood?

“Research?” Cyrus asked hesitantly.

Geovan sighed. It was a sigh that seemed to have the weight of ages behind it. His heaving stomach began to strain his cloak’s sash even more. Cyrus could hear it creaking slightly.

“Do you know what it is like,” Geovan began, “to be a god in a realm of everlasting peace? My people’s success is my success, of course, and I share in their bounty, as they do mine. But gods are a reflection of the dominions they preside over, and while there was war every several decades, I did my part to ensure Sailors were blessed with the training to wage war at sea, and that fighting spirit and morale remained strong for long voyages.”

To punctuate this, Geovan flexed his bicep. Cyrus’ eyes bulged as he watched the rounded peak expand several sizes until his fist touched the top of the rounded muscle. He then relaxed, as the muscle deflated to a more manageable and flabbier size.

“Now, instead of prayers for fighting spirit, at-sea dominance, or for strength to build impressive war galleys, all I seem to get nowadays are prayers for bountiful harvests, plentiful fish, and even thanks and blessings at seafood feasts. Such as the one tonight for our dear Aegeus.”

Geovan thoughtfully drummed the fingers of one of his hands on his massive gut, while cradling it with the other. “Usually, war would be like the ebbs and flows of the tide, or like the waning and waxing of the moon…”

He suddenly hefted his rounded stomach up, really emphasizing how much it stuck out. “Let’s just say, this moon has been waxing a LOT longer than it usually does.” He dropped his belly. It bounced heartily, the walls and house itself shaking slightly as a couple of carved figures rattled and fell from shelves.

He sighed again, and sat himself down on a long, half-log bench in the dining area. Cyrus was mentally relieved that the God had no qualms about his oppressive weight in his current state; none of the other furniture would be able to hold him.

Geovan shrugged, talking to himself. “It’s not too bad, actually. And at least I’m not the only one. My brothers have not been affected as much, but my nephew Aries has been feeling the effects of this long peace as well. Sure, there are still squabbles and mini-wars on smaller, village-to-village levels, so he hasn’t lost much musculature, but the poor lad can barely fit into his fancy armor, though he tries, like an overfed bull that got into the grain stall and still hasn’t realized how much he’s eaten…” he chuckled ruefully.

“But I digress…obviously, my point is that I’m not quite the striking figure with the trident you have at the entrance of your village, correct?”

Cyrus was hesitant to nod. The statue they had of Poseidon showcased a muscled man with cobblestone abs and striated back muscles, flexed in preparation to throw his mighty trident. He didn’t want to tell that to his face though.

“Well? Don’t be shy boy, say it!” Geovan said gruffly, frowning. “Tell me that I’ve let myself go, that I’ve let the prayers of seafood feasts and bountiful seas and decades of ambrosia with no outlet get the better of me!” He slammed his fist on the table behind the bench he sat on, causing plates and Cyrus to jump.

“G-Geovan, m-my Lord…” Cyrus stuttered. “I wanted…I wanted to say something else, but I don’t think it was appropriate, given the help you’ve bestowed on me and my parents over the years. B-but, I never cared for that image of your likeness, truth be told. I respected it, but I’ve always thought the ideal sea warrior would have more meat on his bones, as even some of the most fearsome creatures of your domain must accumulate blubber and mass to remain fearsome and dominating. Your current figure, I think, is quite striking, and isn’t far off from my personal imaginings of you…”

He suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth as his cheeks burned. That was WAY too much information, and way too forward. His personal imaginings? Such thoughts were to be hidden in the depths of one’s mind, not spoken aloud!

Suddenly, Geovan slowly, steadily maneuvered his massive girth as he began to stand up. Up, up, up, he stood, towering over Cyrus. His titanic belly was scant inches from Cyrus’ face, the indent of his navel from behind the cloak was at eye level. Cyrus could detect a sharp, salty, musk, interspersed with the muted tones of beachwood and freshly, sea-sprayed sand.

“You think me striking, boy? Even in my current state?” his voice was a low growl, his eyes became deep, fathomless green oceans as they bore into Cyrus, the only light from his towering, shadowy figure seemed to come from them alone.

Cyrus clammed up, speechless before the display of power, the aura of force being exhibited was mentally suffocating; the air pressure itself felt as if he were being dragged to the bottom of the ocean.

But it was only temporary. Geovan suddenly barked out a booming laugh before wrapping his massive hand around Cyrus’ head, pulling him into his massive midsection that vibrated with each guffaw.

“Of course, I knew this about you already, my boy! What kind of God would I be if I wasn’t aware of the lives of my most ardent followers? You were a special case, I must admit, but anyone with eyes could see you gave ample attention to Aegeus’ ample frame, even going so far as to share your family’s catch with his when you were lads!”

When he was done chuckling, the pressure of his hand against Cyrus’ head lessened somewhat, allowing Cyrus to look up at the grinning giant.

“Which brings me back to my research,” Geovan continued. “Gods are no strangers to the carnal pleasures of man, my brother Zeus can attest to that, much to the chagrin of our pantheon and even his patient wife, Hera! But I myself am new to this…let’s say, overdevelopment of mine?” With his other hand, he rubbed his belly in a wide arc to punctuate this point. “And I was curious about a rising popularity among the mortals of this physique, especially in this time of peace and overindulgence.”

Gently, Geovan moved his hand from the back of Cyrus’ head, tracing his fingers around to the front of his shirt. One single, meaty digit hooked itself on his shirt below his chin, nearly taking up the entire slack with its girth, and began to carefully tug. Cyrus instinctively rose his arms, lest he be picked up as well. The shirt slid off, revealing Cyrus’ lithe and toned swimmer’s body. Though he lacked in size and muscles, he more than made up for in their chiseled and sculpted appearance.

Geovan huffed, as his eyes became unfocused. “You remind me of the days of my youth, lad, days of my prime. Not as small, of course, but the shape, the build, the seafarer’s spirit thrives strongly within you. A lifetime of serving the sea, and your body has been molded by that.”

Cyrus’ heart raced as the strong, weathered hand traced his pecs and abdominals, before teasing the edges of the waistband of his cloth pants. His mind raced with the implications of where this was going.

He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “So, the reason you came here m-my lord…”

“A proposition, my boy, just a proposition,” Geovan said gently. “I’ve lived for a very, very long time…I’ve seen lands erode and reform due to the ocean’s influence, and in that time, I’ve known many lovers of many lifestyles. Although, I’ve never had a thrall or concubine of your predilections. I’m curious what form your affection might take.”

He gestured at his own glorious size and magnitude. “All of this, Cyrus, for you to enjoy, in exchange for a lifetime of servitude to a God. I can make sure your family is taken care of, and you’ll have no wants during your lifetime. I can even ensure your lifespan is extended beyond mortal limits, so I can enjoy your seafarer’s physique, that can make even an old sea god nostalgic, for as long as possible.”

Cyrus found his voice. “B-but, your Wife! Amphitrite, won’t she…” Geovan blew out an exhausted breath and waved his massive arm impatiently. The sudden movement of so much mass caused his belly to knock into Cyrus’ body, causing him to step back to regain his balance.

“Amphitrite has her own bevy of mortal male concubines to keep her entertained. We still have fun together yes, but I see the look in her eyes when she studies a wayward Sailor with a sculpted Adonis body, praying for a certain sea goddess to guide his lost ship home. We enjoy each other’s company well enough, but there are aspects she misses about my old body during leaner, more war-torn times. She has certain hungers that must stay sated, as do I. We’re gods, boy! We don’t deny ourselves, why even try to deny each other? I’d certainly not want her wrath upon me, and trust me, mortals wouldn’t want that either!” He chuckled.

Though Geovan was in high spirits and seemed good natured in his approach to the offer, Cyrus was still processing it all. Become a concubine to a god? It didn’t seem believable, as if he were dreaming. The several hundred pounds of pulsating male godhood in front of him, however, cramped inside his small house, seemed to deny that possibility.

But he didn’t become the most skilled fisherman in his village by being rash or impulsive. There were countless stories of mortals making deals with gods, some with good endings, and twice as many with bad. He thought upon the sheer bliss on Aegeus and Alexandra’s faces at their wedding feast, both taking pleasure in the mutual, simple enjoyment of keeping one’s husband stuffed and well-fed. Their years on this realm would be limited, yes, but they would be pure and blissful and full of love for one another.

Cyrus took a deep breath and looked up at Geovan. “My Lord, this is a gracious offer, and I must admit, I am indeed quite taken by your obvious aura of power and your significant…presence.” Cyrus exhaled shakily and allowed his eyes to roam over all of Geovan’s physique, soaking up every magnificent curve and grabbable inch to prove his point. “And as tempted as I am to accept, I’m afraid I must regretfully decline. I lead a simple life, my lord, and I know no other way to live. My only path in this realm is to live it to its fullest, as short as it may be. I humbly thank you for your offer, and hope you continue to bless my family and our village, as we continue to pray our thanks to you for all that you do for us.”

He held his breath and waited. Geovan’s jovial smile had faded sometime during Cyrus’ speech, his mouth flattened and his eyebrows knitted into a perturbed frown. A loaded second passed, then two, then a few more after that.

Geovan’s mouth finally moved, his tone not of anger, but one of confusion. “As I said…your family will be provided for, and you’ll want for nothing as long as you are under my aegis. I understand you have siblings. Once you have nieces and nephews, don’t you wish to contribute to their well-being, or to the success of their future generations? With your extended lifespan, you’ll even be able to intervene to guide them in the right direction, privy to realm-wide information on weather and trade developments that no other mortal has! And with your short lifespan, and your attraction to the male sex to prevent you from providing offspring, I don’t understand how any mortal in your position could possibly refuse.”

His cold logic doused Cyrus, causing him to take a moment to recover. Poseidon’s eternal life caused him to see mortal strife and development from a long-haul lens perspective. Progeny and legacy were the only possible things he could see of being of value to mankind. As Cyrus had little to offer in both categories, being unable to reproduce and being a fisherman from a small village that likely no one will remember, Poseidon probably thought he was giving Cyrus a glorious purpose.

To be a sex toy used by a god.

“My Lord Poseidon,” Cyrus began. His voice no longer shook, and had conviction in it. “Once again, I am truly honored you have chosen me for this grand purpose. But after the ceremony earlier today, I realize that I want what Aegeus and Alexandra have. What I saw in their eyes. I may never find it, in this small corner of the world, and my life may be as insignificant as a grain of sand in the oceans of time. But I want to find love as pure as theirs, and I do not see that chance happening while serving you.”

Cyrus held Poseidon’s gaze as he finished talking. The god’s face was frozen in a neutral stare, as if he were working out what Cyrus was trying to tell him. His mouth suddenly twitched, his eyes slowly, imperceptively, began to narrow, light color darkening to deep-green pools.

Cyrus jumped as the god exhaled violently through his nostrils. He could almost swear he saw steam erupt from them, smelling of boiled seawater. His chest began to rise and fall in a slow rhythmic fashion, picking up steam as the seconds passed.

That ominous creaking from Poseidon’s cloak came back, punctuating the silence. Cyrus’ eyes widened as he looked up at the monstrous figure. With every breath the god’s chest rose, it did not fall back down to its original height. In addition to that worrisome fact, his rapid breathing caused his stomach to push in and out, except each time, the air didn’t seem to exhale all the way. The indent of the god’s navel seemed to inch closer to Cyrus’ face, while simultaneously the god seemed to tower even higher above him.

The sash of the cloak looked frail, thin, and torturously tight against the quickly ballooning midsection. Cyrus took another step back as the creaking took on the foreboding sound of an old hull of a retired war galley, past its prime and straining to keep everything together. Suddenly, the thin piece of fabric frayed for a split second, before snapping apart with a lightning crack that slashed the air just in front of Cyrus’ throat. A mammoth, impossibly gigantic belly exploded outward, jiggling violently as it exposed itself to the fresh air.

The force of hundreds of pounds of belly dropping roughly two feet caused the humble house to jolt savagely, knocking Cyrus off his feet. He fell backward, hitting his head hard against the wall. He instinctively rubbed the back of his head, yet never taking his eyes off of the gigantic, incensed god that began to take up more and more space in his rapidly diminishing household.

“My lord!” Cyrus yelled. “Please, I cannot accept such a grand proposition! I am just a lowly fisherman, I have no desire to lead such a life you describe!”

“DID I SAY PROPOSITION?” Poseidon boomed, shooting up another foot, as gigantic gusts of breath bellowed from his growing lungs.

His elegant blue leggings tore and popped open across barreling thighs and calves of bloated muscle, before being buried instantaneously by layers and layers of adipose, rising like a mass of baked dough. Tatters of shredded cloth fell away, leaving his bottom half completely naked and huge, swollen belly apron covering his entire groin as it inflated irregularly with more mass in uneven spurts. His cloak split across his arms and back, unable to hold against the proportional size increase of his entire upper body. The sleeves peeled open like a hot potato, revealing white, red-furred flesh. Both pectorals were unabashedly on display, pendulous in girth, each one the size of a grown glutton’s belly in their own right. Each light brown, leathery nipple was the size of a small cauldron, stretched tightly against the ever-rising tide and pressure pushing from behind them, stretching them ever larger and thinner. Each breast grew in tandem with the behemoth’s angry breaths, forcing them to swell further outward and upward, pushing against the double chin of the bellowing mouth above.

“PROPOSITION?” He repeated, taking a huge, thundering step toward Cyrus, his navel now just slightly above Cyrus’ nose, though the nonstop growth caused the belly to sink lower as Poseidon soared taller. His navel was quickly becoming a deep, cavernous hole, as his whole body continued to blimp and swell up at a phenomenal and uncontrollable rate.

“FOOLISH MORTAL,” he continued. “WHY HAVE FREE CHOICE WHEN AN OBVIOUS ONE LAY BEFORE YOU? YOU COME TO US FOR GUIDANCE, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US? BY IGNORING THE COUNSEL I GIVE YOU DIRECTLY, HERE AND NOW?”

By now, Poseidon’s head, as well as the rest of his body, were elephantine in size. His head bumped the top of the 11-foot roof, touched it, then began to press against it forcefully, causing him to crane it downward, neck pushing flat against ceiling. Both hands, nearly the size of doors, pressed against the roof as he seethed downward toward Cyrus. With a roar, he pushed upward and apart, tearing several logs holding the triangular roof together away. Cyrus dove away, avoiding debris and looking up at the open hole in the ceiling, completely occupied by several tons of pissed-off godliness.

Torrents of rain and howling wind swept through the cracks that weren’t blocked by ballooning flesh. Cyrus had recognized that sound from years of sailing; it was a monsoon, in the middle of what was supposed to be a calm season. Before he had any time to analyze the situation, the gigantic god began to slowly maneuver his tonnage toward the house’s exit, which was laughable, because he was currently creating his own exit through the roof. Ropes and lines snapped and entire wooden logs cracked against a wall of advancing blubber, as the entire “front” of Cyrus’ house, doorway and all, came crashing down. Afterward, his house would look like half of it was smashed away by a gigantic boulder, except his boulder was 15 feet tall and ponderously walking away.

Cyrus was treated to the sight of two hairy, bulbous asscheeks, wider than his home would have ever been able to fit moments prior, bouncing and jiggling in tandem as Poseidon slowly made his way to shore. Cyrus’ home, conveniently enough, was close to the ocean, which usually offered him sweeping views of the water. Currently, that view was completely occupied by love handles the size of warships, hanging buoyantly beyond even the width of his astronomical asscheeks. Those love handles also hung beneath several rows of backfat rolls, each the size of a lookout tower, rubbing up against each other. Even from behind, Cyrus could make out the colossally round outline of Poseidon’s hanging gut, finally seeming to slow down in size, as his entire body jiggled violently with every earthquaking step.

Cyrus continued to watch apprehensively, savage wind and rain buffeting his eyes, squinting as he saw 20 foot-tall waves radiate outward as thousands upon thousands of gallons of water were suddenly displaced by a cataclysmic being. He continued to watch, even when all he could make out was a brilliant red mane of seaweed-strewn hair, before that too, submerged below the briny depths.

********************

A few days later, “normal” would not be how Cyrus would describe the state of affairs in his village. After seeking shelter in a neighbor’s home after Poseidon’s er…tantrum? Cyrus found out the wedding guests from the ceremony noticed ominous winds and clouds forming up, seemingly in a matter of minutes. Once the rain began its deluge, and the winds started howling, people immediately sought the shelter of their homes.

No one saw Poseidon erupt from Cyrus’ home and begin his determined march into the ocean.

The next day, Aegeus and Alexandra came to inspect the damage that the “monsoon” had wrecked upon his home. Both agreed he was very fortunate to have avoided being there when the winds and rain tore his house asunder. Surely the gods had been smiling on him that day! Aegeus clapped him on the back, almost knocking Cyrus over, and saying that the issue must have been some faulty construction in the lines holding the log roof together. Alexandra agreed and said she could put some orders in for some essential metal fasteners and various metal tools to be forged, and assured him that they would round up some earnest workers to start rebuilding right away.

At the end of the day, they revealed that they were very relieved that the end of their wedding would not portend bad tidings from the gods, starting with the loss of a dear friend. They smiled, then revealed that they were also relieved for another reason...Alexandra was pregnant with their first child! Cyrus’ mouth dropped open, before immediately grinning and congratulating both of them. Aegeus proudly beamed down at both of them, eyes watery with emotion.

Alexandra jokingly told Cyrus on the side: “That big lug of mine will need to toughen up! He has a child on the way, for goodness sakes. I thought I was supposed to be the emotional one? If he’s like this now, I wonder who will be putting on more sympathy weight, me or him?”

Cyrus grinned before looking back at his childhood friend. His stomach was still heavy, round and distended from his feasting the night before, like an overfilled sack of oatmeal grain, hanging lazily over his waistband like a suspended waterfall of belly. His tradesman shirt was tight and much too small for him already, though he had just gotten it made a week or two before. His massive paunch dwarfed anyone with the misfortune (or fortune) to accidentally collide into it whenever he turned around too suddenly. The shirt left several inches of overstuffed gut exposed, leaving Cyrus to wonder if there would be enough yarn in their village to craft a shirt big enough to fit him by the time his first, of probably many, children was born.

The happy news and tidings after the disaster soon began to dry up, however. Cyrus stayed away from the water, but news from other fishermen in the village began to worry him. Catches that were in the hundreds only a day prior had dwindled to a mere pittance of fish, barely any meat to them or possibly even sickly. The prevailing theory was that the monsoon had scared entire colonies of fish and crustaceans away, which portended a very unprofitable, and in some cases, very lean fishing season that year.

Cyrus thought about the livelihoods in which Aegeus and Alexandra made a living (nevermind himself), and the baby that would be growing in her womb in the coming months. It was at that moment he made a decision.

Preparing a day’s worth of supplies, Cyrus took his small Kaiki fishing vessel out to sea. He took one last look toward the village he grew up in, before hardening his gaze and setting loose the ship’s sails. The wind carried him at a moderate pace, taking him far from the village. The farther he got, the safer they would be from Him.

After several hours, he was far away enough where all he could see was horizon all around him. There was no land to be seen in any nautical direction, and any adverse weather conditions would hopefully be mitigated by the distance.

“Lord Poseidon…” he said aloud. “Please hear my prayer. It is I, Cyrus.”

Nothing. Only the gentle lapping of quiet water.

“My Lord Poseidon!” He tried again, this time raising his voice. “Please! Hear my prayer! It is I, Cyrus!”

Still, his cries were left unanswered. He was alone, perhaps forevermore. Just him, and the sounds of the ocean.

He thought for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“Geovan.” he whispered.

That did it. Almost immediately, clouds coalesced out of nowhere, thickening and darkening in a matter of moments. The gentle breeze became harsh and oppressive, as Cyrus quickly rushed to take his sails down. He steadied his sea legs as the Kaiki vessel pitched and rolled up and down as the sea became turbulent chaos.

Several leagues in front of his ship’s prow, an immense column of dark clouds spiraled downward into the sea. The column continued to widen as Cyrus and his ship seemed to be pitched in that direction. The plume of dark clouds rotated faster, wind pitching and shrieking ever higher. The sea itself was pulled into the cyclone, creating a column of water that took up Cyrus’ vision. He thought he could detect movement coalescing in that expanse of dark ocean in front of him, as if he were in the heavens and staring down at the sea.

The cyclone of water exploded suddenly, crashing down in great rivers of water. Cyrus hung on to the center mast of his ship, feeling helpless as the sea forcefully pushed him back on a vessel that might as well have been a toy.

Before him, naked in all of his gigantine, Sea God’s glory, was Poseidon, king of the seas, towering into the sky itself. Bigger than a mountain, and a hysterical far cry from the size he had been in Cyrus’ house only days before. Cyrus thought back to the stories of the titans, progenitors of the pantheon of gods, and remembered Poseidon’s quip about coming from a big family and can’t help but inherit some of that size.

Boy, did he ever undershoot that statement.

Bright, sea-green light shone down from Poseidon’s glowing eyes upon Cyrus and his ship. The God slowly and methodically sat down, moving at a snail’s pace, which was possibly a side effect of moving in a titan-sized body. Despite his concerted effort, gigantic waves threatened to flip Cyrus’ ship, causing it ascend dozens of feet in seconds before pitching sharply down again. None of the waves, however, seemed to flip his ship, though several came close. Whether that was by design or luck, he dare not guess.

By the time the waves settled, Cyrus collapsed on wobbly legs. He still clung to the mast, catching his breath. He looked up, noticing Poseidon looking down upon him, cross-legged, already settled and not saying anything.

“Uh…hi.” he said lamely.

The titanic god blinked. His glowing eyes appeared to shine less glaringly, but they still seemed to burn a hole into Cyrus’ soul.

Several long moments passed before the god spoke, deliberately and slowly, each word booming and echoing throughout the sea and burned into Cyrus’ very mind.

“WHEN A MAN ANGERS THE KING OF THE SEAS. HE DOES NOT COME BACK. HE HIDES, DEEP IN THE LANDS AND THE FORESTS OF MY KIN, FAR FROM MY DOMAIN AS POSSIBLE SO THAT MY WRATH HOPEFULLY DOES NOT REACH HIM. HE IS EXILED FROM THE SEAS FOREVERMORE. WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE RETURNING TO MY DOMAIN, FOOLISH BOY?”

Mentally exhausted and drained, Cyrus spoke honestly and truthfully. “My lord…no, Geovan. You are right in calling me a fool, because I truly feel like one. You are truly a mighty and impressive being, that has shaken both me, and my loins, to the core. I was both nervous and afraid when an actual God from Mount Olympus itself would come down to bless one as insignificant as I with the chance of a lifetime…no, a Millenium! I truly did not feel worthy to be of service to a god, so ardent and devout have I been in my worship of you, that the thought of even touching your body was mentally akin to defiling a temple!”

On and on, Cyrus spouted the drivel that he hoped Poseidon would want to hear. As he spoke, the sinister glow of the God’s eyes began to fade, until they were of the regular green shade that Cyrus had seen the night they met.

“And I should have known,” Cyrus continued, “that refusing the offer of a god would have consequences! Already I can see the misfortunes my selfish actions have wrought! My village’s coast is devoid of your dominion’s bounty! My closest friends are about to have their first child, and good people like them do not deserve to suffer through a year of…”

“THAT WAS NOT MY INTENTION,” interjected Poseidon. “IN MY RUSH TO VACATE, MY BODY SCATTERED MILLIONS OF MY DENIZENS ACROSS THE COAST. I WAS NOT IN A RIGHT FRAME OF MIND. I PLANNED ON RETURNING EVERYTHING TO ITS RIGHTFUL PLACE, AFTER A FASHION.”

The booming voice was less intense, and the dark clouds above the titan began to lift. Cyrus stared into that massive face and detected certain notes within. Petulance? Sheepishness? Regret? Shame? Was this harsh god of the seas, who demonstrated his incalculable power so callously in his village, actually expressing remorse for indirectly harming (well, more like inconveniencing) the mortals who worshipped him freely and wholeheartedly?

He was going to put everything back in its place after a fashion? He didn’t mean…

“You waited. You waited to do it, to see what I’d do. To see if I’d come back.”

It was a statement, not an accusation, but after saying it out loud, Cyrus was surprised to see Poseidon’s face twist into a countenance of pain and sorrow. So striking and pure was that face, that Cyrus suddenly felt guilty lying about everything he said earlier.

“I…AM NO BETTER THAN MY BROTHERS WHEN IT COMES TO HOLDING MY TEMPER. I AM USED TO GETTING WHAT I WANT, AND HAVING THE CHARM AND LOOKS TO MAKE IT HAPPEN. WELL…” one colossal hand the size of a village in its own right gestured at a belly the size of a small countryside. “...USED TO ANYWAY. YOU ARE A RARE BREED OF MORTAL, CYRUS. WHEN I SAW THE WAY YOU LOOKED AT AEGEUS, THE WAY YOU IDOLIZED HIS SIZE…NOT A LOOK OF DISGUST, BUT OF ADMIRATION.”

He paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. “...OF SEX APPEAL,” he added, somehow sounding embarassed. “I WANTED TO SEE WHAT THAT FELT LIKE. IT HAS BEEN A CENTURY LIKE THIS, BEING IN THIS FORM. I MISS THE LOOKS OF DESIRE, OF BEING WANTED, OF BEING…”

He trailed off. Cyrus was speechless. He never would have imagined that gods could have feelings of self-inadequacy, same as mere mortals do. Where was their support system? Could they even rely on other gods for their problems?

“I find that difficult to believe Geovan.” Cyrus called out. “To me, you are sex appeal incarnate!”

The titan’s eyes widened, seeming to suddenly focus in on something. Cyrus smiled. At some point during Geovan’s honest speech about his feelings of worth and self doubt, Cyrus had subconsciously sprouted a throbbing erection in his seaman’s trousers. The fact that an otherworldly being of such immense size and world-shattering power could be such a big softie on the inside drove Cyrus crazy. It was one of the main reasons he always had a soft spot for Aegeus, and the same reason he had a hard spot for Geovan this very second.

Geovan’s sight began to unfocus, as he slowly began to huff, balmy bursts of warm wind reaching Cyrus and his boat, despite the giant’s effort to control it. The air pressure of the atmosphere itself seemed to change with every shuddering breath.

Cyrus frowned as he noticed the water beginning to pitch up and down again. He looked back at Geovan and then he felt a weight in the pit of his stomach.

It was nearly impossible to notice at first due to distance and scale, but Geovan’s already horizon-filling belly seemed to be…no, it couldn’t be. Could it? Just like before, each breath seemed to inflate the ballooning titan just a little, just a tiny bit more. What seemed to be a negligible difference in size was thrown off by the fact that due to his scale, Geovan was actually growing by several thousand tons of weight every few seconds. His body slowly advancing, as if crawling toward his boat, was expanding at an astronomical rate, not even comparable to before. In reality, his body was advancing like an avalanche, or in this case, a tsunami.

“Geovan!” Cyrus yelled, hanging on as the waves began to reach a fever pitch again. “I thought you had already shed your disguise! What’s happening?”

“I AM IN THE HEART OF THE SEA, THE SOURCE OF MY DOMAIN. THE FURTHER FROM SHORE, THE GREATER MY POWER AND INFLUENCE GROWS. MY FOCUS CAN ONLY MAINTAIN MY DISGUISE IN PROPORTION TO MY POWER.”

Geovan grimaced, his proportions swelling to even greater distances all around him. The rumbling of billowing mountains of flesh filled the air. “MY SIZE CAN GROW TO BE AS LARGE AS THE OCEAN ITSELF IS DEEP. I LET MYSELF GET TOO EXCITED AGAIN. WE MUST RETREAT TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REALM, WHERE ONLY GODS CAN RESIDE, AND WHERE I CAN CONTROL MY SIZE MORE FREELY. IF WE DON’T, I FEAR MY CONTINUED PRESENCE MAY CAUSE MASS FLOODING ON A CATASTROPHIC SCALE.”

Cyrus gulped, watching the tidal wave of titan belly racing toward him and his tiny boat, not so far away anymore, gaping maw of Geovan’s navel high above in the sky, like a lightless cave the size of an island. He could not even see the god’s face anymore, so eclipsing was the mass of red-furred blubber, about to demolish the speck of wood with a tiny, insignificant mortal on it.

Before that could happen, however, the sky darkened as a giant building resembling a callused, cupped hand, came down upon him, casting him and his existence into pitch black.

[pragmaton]

Tubby's Taffee

Oscar was excited for the upcoming tour. Tubby's Taffee was a tongue-in-cheek candy factory with the primary export of, you guessed it, taffy. Despite its well-earned name, it was the sweetest, chewiest, most mouthwatering taffy Oscar had ever tasted.

He never went anywhere without several of the candies in his pockets. His friends often joked that he should just wrap himself in wax paper and sell his body at the factory, since his body was probably 99 percent taffy at this point.

Though it was a joke, the effect on his waistline wasn't. In the past year or so, Oscar's already chubby frame bubbled outward in a steady, ominous fashion. Jokes died on the lips of his friends as they weren't prepared to see a substantially fatter, more rotund version of their friend after not seeing him for a few weeks or even days at a time.

He'd come in, huffing in ill-fitting shirts that could barely hide his overhang and creaking sweatpants, as normal pants would not cut it anymore. Uneasily, his friends would slowly get back into the cadence of poking fun at their swollen pal, as he would laugh it off as they slapped and played with his belly. It wasn't until a few months later that his friends began to contact him less and less, after noticing how dangerously obese he had become in such a short amount of time.

By then, his love handles stuck out like bean bags rubbing against doorframes and his wrecking ball of a gut seeming to inflate into a room as he entered it, ballooning impossibly rounder and fatter, triggering the fight-or-flight response of anyone daring to watch for too long. By the time he squeezed into the room, he'd look around dumbfounded, as his friends made themselves scarce.

The night before the candy tour, Oscar dreamed he was already there, tasting limited edition taffy flavors and stuffing his face with gobs of the stuff directly from one of the mixing tanks. His hefty tonnage bent the metal edge of the tank as he leaned over to grab taffy, causing him to lose balance and fall in.

His jiggly, mammoth belly cushioned his fall as he landed, surrounded by a mass of gooey, warm taffy. The large metal clamps that stretched and molded the taffy could not tell the difference between his warm, gelatinous body and the candy.

A two-pronged clamp dove into his belly, one metal finger delving deep into his belly button while the other hooked underneath his belly lobes.

He gasped as the pressure tightened, feeling like his belly button was being fucked by a beer can, as the machine struggled to lift him up and stretch his belly like taffy. Two more clamps latched onto his moobs, his nipples painfully stretching as the machine began slowly lifting him up by only his belly and nipples.

His eyes widened as his belly gently, slowly began to stretch, as the weight of his body was too great to be lifted. His belly button yawned torturously wider and longer, while his nipples stretched longer and thinner, as he began to slowly lower back into the taffy.

He suddenly felt a warm rush underneath him, followed by the feeling of being very, very full. The taffy in the tank was rushing into him through his ass, filling his stretched belly and moobs, replacing the sharp acute angles of his elongated nipples into two massive, bloated hotdogs of flesh that continued to throb bigger and bigger. His belly continued to stretch longer and longer, but filling up simultaneously to look like a 1200lb cement bag gurgling, swelling and rising over the side of the tank as his body begged for more.

Oscar woke up, covered in sweat and a hidden pocket of sticky cum within his fatpad under his giant belly. He groaned as he got out of bed, messy and sweaty, and poured himself into a ridiculously tight pair of sweatpants that he wrapped around the bottom half of his gut.

After getting out of his room, he was treated to a surprise on the dining table. A huge basket of thousands of taffy candies, multicolored and multiflavored was waiting for him! There was a card attached, saying it was from Tubby's Taffee, as a gift before the tour later that day.

Eagerly, Oscar dug in, unwrapping a dozen candies and shoving them into his open maw. He loved the feeling of letting the flavors mix together, with barely any room in his mouth to chew. Slowly but surely, he was able to soften them to the point where he could swallow, then he would repeat the process with the candies he unwrapped while chewing.

Minutes ticked by as he gorged on the seemingly endless gift of sweets. A heaviness had settled in his gargantuan belly, than only seemed to increase with every mouthful of candy sent down his gullet.

The heaviness seemed to be focused on the forward prow of his blimped gut, just behind his belly button. Oscar did not notice that the heaviness was due to an extremely concentrated mass of taffy that was slowly affecting the fat tissue all around it. His belly burbled and glorped audibly, becoming bigger and softer to the point where the heaviness was stretching his belly downward lower and lower. His sweatpants squeaked to near transparency as the stitches popped trying to hold back a tidal wave of quivering gut. The sweatpants filled to the brim like a gray balloon, pulling downward and exposing his newly blimpish ass.

When he finally noticed the changes, he was almost done with the basket of treats. He moaned, trying to pull his taffy belly back into himself, but the bottom of his belly lobes were out of reach, being propelled even lower by the lead ball of taffy weighing it down. His sweatpants exploded off of him, allowing his greedy taffy belly to wobble even lower.

He thought back to the omens of his dream, and smacked his lips, thinking about being filled with even more taffy as the stretching clamps had their way with his soft, malleable body. His belly bubbled and pressed against the tiny doorframe of his apartment, causing him to moan in pleasure as the doorframe cracked against his gargantuan soft body as he billowed out into the hallway.

An hour later, gigantic thuds and sirens could be heard from down the street and getting closer to Tubby's Taffee Factory...

[pragmaton]

Seeing your bloated boy toy stretched out on the bed was truly a site to see. He shifted nervously as you gazed upon his assets, especially the ones above his chunky midsection.

"Your tits... they're looking massive as usual," you say nonchalantly as you walk over.

"I...I told you, they're moobs...I don't like it when you call them tits..." he trailed off while avoiding eye contact. He didn't want to upset you, possibly because he was self conscious about his body and wanted you to stay. He genuinely enjoyed your company, otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to a third hookup.

You looked down, seeing the unmistakable outline of his cock, poking upward underneath the blanket and his tight briefs. He blushed when you looked up, realizing that you noticed. He fidgeted even more, moving the blanket a bit to hide his erection better. The abrupt movement caused his belly and man tits above to jiggle furiously, causing further embarrassment.

You grin evilly, using this moment of weakness to your advantage. You suddenly throw yourself on top of him, straddling his large gut and holding his forearms in place above his head.

"What, you don't like like it when I talk about your huge, juicy tits?" You emphasize this point by letting go of his arms and smacking his left pec hard, as it jiggled wildly, causing him to yelp.

"St..stop...it," he begged, face turning red, but the cock poking your back was begging for something else. You ignored him, beginning to work your unique talent on the blubbering bear. You continued to smack his man tits, alternating between left and right, making sure the cracks of impact were focused on those extra large nipple slices of his. Both nipples were extremely sensitive, and got redder and redder as they swelled from the abuse.

"These man tits of yours...are... fucking...huge!" you exclaim between each slap.

"They...really... aren't...that big," he whimpered pathetically, eyes squeezed shut from the relentless torture. He began to breathe low and heavy.

"They are fat as fuck, full to bursting!" you exclaim. "You'll need to go on a diet soon, you damn cow, no one will be able to milk you!"

By now, both moobs were red and swollen, not given a chance to recover from their abuse. More and more blood rushed into them, slowly inflating them to parodies of their smaller selves. Both nipples stuck out like baby bottle tops, twitching independently of each other, as if they were becoming real life udders. The cock poking into your back was more forceful, becoming harder the more the busty bear tried to deny his impractical size. The massive moobs pushed sideways and upward, beginning to suffocate the poor denier's face. This snapped him out of his stupor, his eyes popping open in shock, staring at you between two mantits creaking to the size of melons. Nearly his entire face was obscured, just his fearful eyes could be seen. You whipped your cock between those two rubbery, hairy balloons and squeezed them together, feeling the sparse, separated hairs stimulate your cockhead. It only took several thrusts before you painted the guy's face, as if he didn't already have enough trouble breathing. By the time you finished, his ballooning breasts were the size of basketballs, full and heavy. The bear had to hold them away from his face, brushing his engorged nips in the process. Stimulating those two sexual organs caused the third one between his legs to blast and spurt uncontrollably, lathering your back with seed. He let out several short gasps, and a few whimpers as well, holding overflowing handfuls of moobmeat.

You gently kissed each one, eliciting further moans from the overworked guy. You got up, retrieved your clothes, and headed to the front door.

"Remember, if you call me too many times without breaks, they're gonna get even bigger. You won't be able to hide them at this rate. Take care, my little cow."

He moaned in response as you closed the door behind you.

[pragmaton]

I've discovered a number of story posts I've created the last time I was writing on Tumblr years back. Google "pragmaton tumblr" to find some oldie but goodies from that deactivated account 👍

[pragmaton]

The local weightlifting club entered your restaurant after their latest meet; spirits were high, as well as testosterone and cocky competitiveness. But that was exactly what you were counting on.

You had been friends with one of the club members way back in highschool, but had lost touch over the years. He did a small stint playing college football before returning to your hometown to work at the local fitness club. You went to culinary school to refine your cooking skills to better support your family's restaurant. Your old pal hit you up on social media once he found out you were back in town, and you rekindled your friendship.

One night, you cooked for the big beefball in your home to show off what you learned, after he joked about you going to culinary school. To his surprise, you prepared a small feast, ranging from Mediterranean to East Asian to South American cuisine. You didn't expect him to finish it all but were slightly taken aback when he suddenly unleashed his inner fatboy and started devouring as much as he could at a breakneck pace. Almost two hours later, he leaned back in his chair and belched, moaning as he rubbed his now-swollen, packed belly. "That was fucking delicious, bro," he whispered, eyes closed. "You gotta cook for the weightlifting club one of these days." Seeing your big buddy smirking with pained relief, rubbing that quivering overblown sphere you created, pants button popped and hairy belly sliver exposed, something awoke within you. "Sure thing," you agreed, knowing fully well it wouldn't be a simple task.

Two weeks later, that fateful night had finally come. Your friend had talked up your skills to his weightlifting buddies, joking that they would explode out if their shirts before the night was done. As a jest, they all entered your restaurant, shirts off, some dressed only in briefs, roaring for grub. Smiling, you place the "closed" sign outside, knowing the display that was about to take place was not for public eyes.

Each weightlifter had a personal feast, or trial, in front of him. You saw more than one adam's apple gulp in both excitement and trepidation. Dozens and dozens of pounds of meat, poultry, pork, potato dishes, stews, curries, fried rice and more littered a long table. As they dug in, they did not realize the devious trap you had sprung. For each dish that was on the table, there was significant dosage of tasteless appetite stimulant laced within. Not only that, but you had learned some interesting things about the dark side of culinary arts, namely contraband ingredients. There were a selection of herbs and spices, when combined, had cumulative aphrodisiac and testosterone boosting effects. The men in front of you began to sweat as they nosily gulped, slurped and swallowed massive forkfulls and spoonfuls of food.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw your friend continue to force a ridiculous amount of food into his cheeks before he was able to swallow the previous amount. His eyes watered as his cheeks bowed comically outward like a chipmunk's, unable to even close his mouth. His adam's apple bobbed jerkily as it worked overtime to get that giant mound of addictive food into his gullet. Slowly but surely, each successive gulp shrunk those cheek pouches, the final one testing the limits of his muscular neck as it bulged to accommodate access to his ballgut.

Wait. Ballgut? Your eyes bugged as you witnessed your friend's stomach had already distended to the biggest you had ever seen it, that final gulp inching it tortuously outward even more. Ab striations were stretched over a bloated muscle ball not used to this level of capacity. He groaned in pain, one hand on his globed gut, the other hand reaching for even more! You gulped while looking around. maybe you had used too much appetite stimulant? You didn't actually expect these overblown muscleheads to finish the feasts put in front of them; there was technically enough food to bust their guts open twice over. Every seat was now dominated by a whopper of a musclegut, ab definition slowly disappearing from the force of food behind them. Even the smallest of the lifters had widened considerably, stretch marks peppering the sides of his beachball as he grew wider than his smaller frame could safely handle. To make matters even more dicey, some of the dumb jocks had eyed each other competitively, thumping their own guts in pride and egging themselves to eat more than each other. Men who were sitting together felt their engorged blimpguts rubbing against each other, causing discomfort but also amusement as they poked fun at one another's weight. "Looks like you need to go on a diet bro!" one ironically spherical heffer would say. "This bro?" an overstuffed, stretchmarked musclehog would respond, attempting to jiggle his dangerously rotund ballbelly, to little success. "This is all muscle! Also, I didn't hear your mom complaining last night when I put it on top of her!" But among the constant chugging, gorging, rubbing, joking and belly thumping, you began to notice something else. The flushed, red-faced overblown jocks suddenly began to exhibit shorter breaths, as their faces became redder and sweatier.

You smiled knowingly as you walked to the empty side of the long table, pretending to drop a stack of empty plates. Cursing, you grab some cleaning tools from the kitchen, and used the excuse to duck near the broken plates and crawl under the table.

You crawl only a few feet before your handiwork became apparent. Each of the sweatpants or briefs belonging to the big boys were filled to bursting with bloated schlongs and grapefruit sized ballsacks. Some of them had pulled their waistbands down to let their cocks breathe, each one blubbering and spurting pre into an overblown gut towering above. Even the shortest weightlifter sported a stubby, engorged hog the size of a cantine, much larger than either of the cocks next to it. You watched hypnotically as the ominously stuffed gut above, creased in half against the creaking wooded table, bounced rhythmically on top of the thick, spurting hog cock. The jock lowered two thick, callused hands, cradling his newly acquired mass, accentuating the newer stretchmarks he developed as his smaller frame stretched to keep up with his taller teammates. He squeezed the mass tightly, barely any give, and bounced it once, twice, three times...

On the fourth time, he gave out a low, rumbling moan. To his teammates, it would look like he was trying to ease the pain of his distended ballgut, but below, the belly bouncing had stimulated his cock to the point of no return, as several ropes of cum shot all over your face and chef's uniform. The short beefball weightlifter scrambled to pull his sweatpants back over his cock as to not arouse the suspicion of his friends. However, like a domino effect, you heard a peculiar rumbling all around you as heaving bellies began to bump the table harder and more violently, as the breathing of the overfed musclehogs rose in intensity.

One by one, cocks began firing off like cannons on either side of you.

You crawled forward as if through a battlefield, feeling like a general watching the climax of a decisive battle. There was one cannon, however, that could be declared a dud, or a even a misfire. But the closer you got, you began to realize that it hadn't even been loaded yet.

Your friend, who you hadn't checked on in a while, was now cradling what you can only describe as one of those extra large medicine balls that you can only find in a gym. It was riddled with gigantic tiger stripes radiating outward from his belly button, which during the course of the meal, had flattened, bowed outward, then bloated into a golfball sized outie that some roidgut lifters sported. Except it was getting even bigger than that. And growing.

From here, you could hear the glugging and slurping of your friend above. Instead of slowing down, it seemed he had sped up his feasting, the stimulant having its way with him, appealing to his inner fat boy and encouraging it to run wild. "So...fucking...good..." he moaned, almost sexually, between constant swallows and belches.

As flattered as you were that he couldn't stop eating your cooking, the gurgling of his stomach sounded angry, split between ominous gurgles from a stomach about to blow and the rumblings of a gut that was still starving.

You couldn't let this go on much longer. His modest package, now blown to herculean proportions, hung full and heavy over the edge of his chair, trapped within precum-stained sweats. His mammoth gut stuck out round and full above, seeming to defy gravity, giving you easy access to his crotch. The swollen package caused the waistband of his sweats to be pulled down, revealing the base of his beer can cock. Gently, you pinched the edges of his sweats, slowly pulling it out and down, revealing the entire length of his cock. You nearly gasped aloud as your buddy's mushroom head was revealed. Purplish and apple-sized, it bobbed immediately upward into the packed zeppelin above, before the mushroom head acted as a counterweight, pulling it immediately down. This in turn, seemed to stimulate the underused cock even further, as it immediately shot up again, slapping even harder into the hot air balloon of a belly above.

You could hear your friend's breath catch as he began to huff rapidly and moan. You were initially relieved when he stopped eating, but then heard a curious scraping and grunting above. With alarm, you realized he was picking up the gallon of gravy you had placed on that side of the table for sharing.

Within seconds, noisy gulping filled the air as you watched the behemoth gut push forcefully into the table, inching tortuously outward, no doubt creasing painfully in half against the wooden edge. His cock was still twitching and bobbing, still thumping violently against that expanding, dangerously full blimp as he thumped it with his free hand.

You were out of time. You leaned forward, blowing warm air onto the overstimulated cock. You reached one finger above, gently tracing the outer edge of that trembling, golfball sized belly button. The gulping began to slow, as the big glutton began to get even more hot and bothered, having to take more frequent breaths, wondering why the painful tightness in his belly suddenly felt so good, the sensitivity of it all driving him crazy. He chased the feeling, wanting his cock to be weighed down more and more. He had to consume more to make it happen. He had to BE more. More of him, being fed to fullness every day by his buddy. He had to GROW...!

He roared, feeling like he had a firehydrant under his gut, feeling line after line of cum ejecting from his bloated cock, feeling like a fucking overblown ox, pinned by the weight of its own size. His vision swam, unsure of how much time had passed. He looked over the faces of his teammates and saw the satisfaction of full bellies drawn over each of their faces, some even snoozing, hands resting on protruding gut shelves. He suddenly saw his buddy getting up from the other side of the table, gathering broken dishes and scooting away. The dropped dishes must have been messier than he thought, because his little buddy seemed to be glistening with streaks of sauce across his uniform and arms. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn his face was positively wet with the stuff.

He pondered this as he massaged his overblown tank. He would need help hauling this home, after he made sure his buddies were able to drive home safely. Maybe his little buddy would be available to help him out, maybe top him off with a little dessert? He smiled. He was looking forward to a BIG year.