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pikablu410 · 3 months

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His Mayoral Duties

“Mayor Bradley! How do you feel now that you’ve just won a second term in office with a surprise landslide victory?!” A man with a microphone asked.

“I’m honored the people of Stocksville have chosen me to lead them again. I’m excited to get back in my office and make changes for the better.” The man confidently said, adjusting his casual yet sleek blue suit. He combed over his curls with his hand to make sure they weren’t frizzled.

“Mayor! To what do you contribute to such a meaningful success?” A blonde woman in a red suit nearly jumped out of the crowd. She, of course, was talking about how a black man, like himself, was the first to win a reelection as mayor in Stocksville.

“I think my policies speak for themselves. Our economy is doing better, crime is at an all time low and people are content with their lives in the city.” The mayor confidently responded.

“And mayor, what do you have to say to those who believe your victory was the result of fraud?” A man asked before being pushed back into the crowd.

If the people had known him personally, or had studied his body language, they would’ve known Scott staggered for a brief moment before responding. “I ask that they wait for the voting office to put out their data, and, for now, work with me in making progress towards a better Stocksville.” He smiled.

“How could they have known?! I was completely certain it would be a secret-” A man with shaggy brown hair walked back and forth before being interrupted by Scott.

“Just shut up! I know my office isn’t rigged with cameras or mics I’m not aware of. There’s no way it could’ve gotten out.” He said, leaning forward onto his desk.

“Then how would they have known we used dark ma-” Scott almost literally zipped the man’s lips this time.

“Roger. There is absolutely, assuredly, zero reason for people to believe we did anything suspicious other than their own conspiratorial beliefs. We have done nothing wrong, and there’s no proof otherwise.”

Roger wiped the sweat from his neck, “Well…”

Scott glared, “Roger.”

“I’m not saying I kept the book, but-”

“Roger!” Scott growled. A rarity for him.

“What if I need a demon for a hot chick or something? You never know.” Roger, now much more casually, admitted.

“If by ‘demon’ you mean ‘advice’ then sure, but you definitely don’t mean what you said literally, right?” Scott said, with a thick emphasis on the sarcasm.

“Relax Brandon, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure there’s no negative side effects.” Roger started, “You did do what the de- what the advice told you to do, right?”

Brandon sighed, pulling out the greasy takeout bag, “Yeah, I bought a burger after I won. I really don’t get how this was equivalent to whatever that…advice did.”

He took a large bite out of the burger, finding the taste divine. Scott quickly took another, and then a sip of his soda.

“Woah, slow down their champ. Just because you won doesn’t mean you can’t get sick from eating like that.” Roger advised, but it seemed Brandon wasn’t listening.

“Mmph, sorry,” Scott swallowed the last of his burger, “I don’t know why, but that was the best burger I’ve ever had from McTasties.” Finishing his soda and the fries, Scott went on, “I think I’m gonna get another. They must’ve changed their recipe or something!”

Roger noticed how Scott wiped the grease onto his blue suit, which, thanks to the dark color, didn’t detract much from it. However, he thought back to how Brandon got pissed off when he spilled water onto a similar suit.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home. Call me if you need anything not politics related.” Roger said, the drawstrings of his green and gray hoodie flipping through the air.

Despite his calm demeanor, Roger was still thinking about his friend’s behavior. Just what was it that they had summoned the night before?

“Destiny! Two more orders of McTasties double cheeseburgers. One with fries and one with onion rings. Of course I want two milkshakes!” Scott said over his newly installed desk microphone. He had gotten tired of constantly walking down to ask her to order him more food.

“Right away Mayor Bradley. Oh, city council wanted me to notify you that they’re meeting for ordinance 5507 in 10 minutes.” Destiny replied.

Scott smiled and thanked Destiny. He slowly sat up from his chair and walked over to his mirror. His stomach bulged against the white undershirt and blue suit he adorned. A ketchup stain marked the white and a grease one the blue suit. It had been a stressful…2 weeks in office. Scott hadn’t taken the time to think about how he had gained weight so quickly, or how fast time had gone by.

Regardless, Scott decided to head down to the council room and wait for his colleagues there.

Opening his doors, he found an unwanted surprise.

“Scott! I really need to talk to you ri-” Roger nearly shouted.

“Can it wait? I have McTasties and a council meeting waiting for me downstairs?” Scott replied, rolling his eyes.

“I really don’t think you should. I’m not sure how much longer you have?” Roger panicked, welcoming himself into Scott’s office.

Raising an eyebrow, Scott now fully entered the conversation, “What, do I have a disease or something?” “You might as well! You know that ‘advice’ we summoned the other night?” Roger asked, using his hands to sign quotation marks in the air, “Well, apparently that deal was just its way to get ahold of you.”

“Wait, you mean I’m possessed?” Scott scoffed at his own words.

“Basically! It’s like an infection,” Roger opened the book Scott had berated him for 2 weeks ago, “The longer you don’t treat it, the more it affects you. This weight you’ve gained isn’t natural.” Roger poked Scott’s belly to emphasize his point, Scott smacking his friend’s hand away.

“So what, I've gained a few pounds. I’ve been stressed and cooped up in this office, I’ll be fine.” Scott said, stifling a belch.

Roger looked at his friend with glazed eyes, “You’ve barely done anything but eat McTasties and watched how the media is praising your election.”

Scott didn’t want to admit it, but as he looked at the greasy takeout wrappers on the floor, Roger was right. He hadn’t done much other than eat and pass a few laws that were already in the works before he was elected. But then, a lightbulb.

Well, a buzz on his desk microphone.

“Mayor Bradley. City council is meeting in 5 minutes now. Also, your McTasties is here.” Destiny rang.

Now with a smug look, Scott smiled at Roger, “I’m actually in the process of passing a new city ordinance right now. And you’re making me late. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Scott then headed down the hall and towards the city council. Roger looked at the book and sighed. At least this wasn’t going to ruin his life. He hoped.

Entering the city council meeting room with his two bags of McTasties, Scott settled in before the last of the council members arrived. Immediately digging into one of the cheeseburgers and fries, the other city council members stared in shock.

“Uhm, Mayor Bradley. Mayor Bradley!” An older council member nearly shouted.

“Hmm? What is it?” Scott replied, licking ketchup off of his fingers.

“We’re starting our meeting…is it truly necessary for you to eat your lunch during our meeting?” The older man inquired.

“Oh, I’m almost done with it,” Scott casually replied, sucking down his milkshake, making a loud slurping sound in the process, “You all should try it sometime. Now, where were we?”

The following months saw historic change for Stocksville. Probably in the most insipid way possible. Ordinance 5507 gave more freedom to “inexpensive food companies” that was cited to help “impoverish citizens attain a more consummate meal.”

In reality, Scott just wanted more McTasties near city hall and his house, both of which now had 2 within a block.

Not that Scott walked to the fast food restaurant, but it certainly alleviated the weight on his employees. Though, it didn’t relieve weight in other areas. Within those months, the Bradley office staff had all put on at least 70 pounds of fat. Dozens upon dozens of McTasties orders came to the office each day, a majority of them coming from Scott himself.

Speaking of the mayor, he had gone up 3 suit sizes in the several months following ordinance 5507, which of course was followed by ordinance 5508, 5509 and 5512. All of which gave the McTasties company more power in Stocksville.

None of this caused the Bradley office any concern because, like Scott, they had all become addicted to the greasy junk. Seemingly overnight, the town had transformed into some Las Vegas for greasy restaurants. A competitor, Patty’s Burgers, was on the rise and produced even more restaurants for Scott- for the Stocksville citizens to order from.

Though, not all hope was lost for the town.

“Scooooooottttt!” A man with shaggy brown hair shouted down the hall. The guards were too fat and lazy to stop him from bursting into Scott’s office. “Scott, I’ve found out how to solve this- what the hell happened to you?!”

The mayor’s first response with a burp, followed by him trying to sit upright in his chair.

“Do you mind, URP, Roger? I’m trying to eat my pre-lunch snack?” Scott replied, taking a chomping bite out of a burger that looked much too large for human consumption. 3 more bags were filled with food next to him on the desk, Roger being able to tell they were filled because he couldn’t take a step in the office without his legs brushing up against an empty one.

“How fucking fat have you gotten? Do you realize what this is all from? That “advice?”” Roger, again, emphasized the word advice.

Scott slurped down a soda before literally dumping a carton of fries into his gaping maw. “What, the fucking demon? Yeah, whatever. Like anyone believes that shit.” He let out a very noticeable fart before going back to chowing down on a burger.

Roger noticed his friend’s new dialect. “Dude, since when did you swear? I thought you had to uphold an image or something.”

“Yeah, what-fucking-ever. People are so happy with all the McTasties, and now Patty’s! Who cares if I fucking swear!” Scott said with a little too much enthusiasm, finding himself wedged between his office chair, “Damn, this thing is getting old.” “Uhh, yeah. Anyways, I’ve figured out how to stop all this and get back to normal. All you have to do is eat some vegetables and fruit, lose a bit of weight and the possession should slowly go away. If that doesn’t work we’ll need a priest and-” “Bro, you’re actually still on this possession thing? I told you, I’m in complete control.” Scott said, taking a final bite out of his burger.

Then, a squeak was heard, followed by a snap and then Scott falling to the ground. Rips could be heard behind the desk as the mayor sat behind his desk.

“Fuck…that actually felt kinda good.” Scott mumbled to himself.

Roger, however, was much more worried, “Dude! Are you alright?!” He went behind Scott’s desk to help his friend up.

He immediately noticed that one of the buttons on his suit had burst off from the fall, leaving a portion of Scott’s belly wide open to the public. As he helped heft his friend up, Roger noticed that Scott’s pants were now torn at his thighs, exposing a significant amount of cellulite. After helping Scott up, the fat man waddled to the mirror in his office.

“Damn, I don’t look too bad.” Scott admired himself. Roger hadn’t taken the time to notice in his rush to save his friend, but as his friend looked on in the mirror, he really saw how far Scott’s appearance had fallen. The once well-shaved man now had a scruff that was forming a goatee, and the same furry situation could be said for his now-exposed belly. His suit was tattered with stains, and had torn in places Scott hadn’t even noticed.

“Scott I really think you should reconsider-”

“Roger, my time in office has been incredibly successful. Employment is at an all time low. People who were starving in the streets now have homes and food! Public transportation goes all over the city and our economy is thriving and healthy. All because I’ve invested in McTasties and fast food restaurants.” Scott went on, looking over the city, then back at Roger, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your extra weight too.” He poked Roger in his belly, to which the pale man sheepishly backed off.

“Just listen to me dude, I think something is really wrong. I mean, how did you even convince the city council to get all of this done? Aren’t they notorious for stopping all your ideas?” Roger asked.

Scott smiled devilishly, braggin, “They attributed it to my “charisma.” They’ve really fallen for me.” He walked over to Roger and put his arm around his friend, “Look me in the eyes when I tell you this, Roger.”

Listening to his friend, Roger looked into Scott's eyes, but they weren’t Scott’s. They glowed a deep red, and were almost…hypnotizing.

“Go get yourself some McTasties on your way home. Tell them it’s on me, they’ll cover it.” Scott ordered, very persuasively.

Roger couldn’t help but slowly nod his head and turn around to leave Scott’s office. He could really go for a McTasties burger.

The next month saw Mayor Bradley’s only roadblock in his reign of ordinances. A group called “Alternatives for Health” rose to political distinction as a, you guessed it, alternative to Scott’s campaign. Not that there would be an election any time soon, but they aimed to rally support against all of the fast food-centric regulations that had recently been put in place. Lobbying Scott’s office near daily, they would’ve annoyed the hell out of any other group in office.

But, by this point, Scott’s staff had grown too fat and tired to care.

“URRRRRP, Desti-URRRRRRP. Destiny, where’s m’ damn order of fries?” A sweaty, double-chinned, bearded face mumbled over the desk microphone. When there wasn’t a response in 5 seconds, he repeated himself. “Destiny! URRRRRP, I need m’ afta’noon snack!”

“It’s, URP, on its way now. Sorry, thought it was for me.” A voice that was distinctly deeper than it was 4 months ago replied.

Just then, several bags of greasy food then came elevated up through a small nightstand-like desk. Grumbling as he slowly stood up from a wider chair, the fat mayor waddled to the bags of food. Not bothering to waddle back to his desk, he plopped his fat ass down on the ground and started devouring the food.

“God…this ain’t gonna be enough…it’s sho good…gonna need more…” Scott trailed off, plowing through the food like he had the littered takeout bags in his office. Sweat poured down his barely clothed body, pooling into the rolls that were made from hours of eating. A white wifebeater and black basketball pants were what Scott adorned, since nothing else fit and he had to keep up “public decency,” whatever the hell that was.

A voice annoyingly came through his microphone desk.

“Mayor you, URRRRRP, have a visitor.” Destiny rang.

Grumbling again, the mayor heaved his beanbag-esq belly off the ground and waddled back to his oversized chair.

“Send ‘em up!” Scott said, farting as he settled back into his chair. Just moving across the room had gotten him drench in his own salty perspiration. He rubbed his hairy, sweaty belly to coax out more gas before his visitor arrived. Though, he figured he already knew who it was.

“URRRP, Scott, I got more sco-URRRRRP-op on that health group.” Roger barged in. The trip to McTasties a month ago had treated Roger well. Some might’ve said a little too well. But Scott said it hadn’t treated him well enough, and sent his friend back for more.

“Good man! Whadda they want? URRRRRRP” Scott belched out, not bothering to stop eating.

Pulling out a bunch of graphs and research papers, Roger messily placed them all over Scott’s desk.

“So basically, URRRRP, ‘scuse me. Basically they’re tryna’ prove that bein’ fat is bad. Apparently it raises your chance for “heart disease” and “cholesterol related illnesses” but I haven’t heard of anyone hospitalized for those things recently.” Roger explained.

Scott’s brain was still trying to process the papers in front of him. Months ago these would’ve made sense, but for some reason he could barely comprehend the words. Words like ‘arthritis,’ ‘artery,’ and ‘high fructose’ were hard to read. Almost like he was realizing his descent into slobdom, Scott almost put the pieces together.

That was, until Roger shoved the straw to a milkshake in his mouth.

“Ya looked starved. Thank god I brought more McTasties.” Roger said, with Scott eagerly reaching for the bags with his sausage arms.

Roger rubbed his own exposed, pale belly that pushed out underneath his green hoodie. Surprisingly, the same hoodie from 4 months ago still fit the growing lard boy, but he was too addicted to the junk most of Stocksville ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner to be bothered to notice.

“So,” Scott pause for a monumental fart, “Heh, that was a nice one. Anyways, what’re we talkin’ about?”

“This, uh, health group.” Roger explained.

“Oh yeah, how do we get rid of them? They’re gettin’ in the way of me buildin’ more McTasties.” Scott shoveled another handful of onion rings into his mouth. Roger couldn’t even tell what was grease and what was sweat on the man’s face.

“Jus’...lemme handle it.” Roger smiled, with Scott appreciating the simple reply. “How’s the move goin’?”

Processing the question, Scott remembered he had ordered the leanest of his staff to move his home necessities to his office.

“Awesome dude! I got a TV and internet, so I’m basically set. All I need is a personal McTasties and I’d never have to leave.” Scott replied, his rolls and moob jiggling as he went to wipe sweat from his forehead.

“Sounds like the next ordinance at city council.” Roger smirked.

Scott belched and threw an empty milkshake cup into the trash pile that littered the room. “Oh, I disbanded that. They all got too lazy to come. So now they put their trust in me to make the laws.”

Roger’s eyes perked up at those words. “You’re just telling me now?!” Scott let out more gas and continued to eat, “Sorry, forgot I guess.”

Roger went over to Scott and leaned against his a fat roll.

“My friend, it’s a good thing you’ve started moving; I don’t think you’ll be leaving your office for a while.”

“Whaddare they sayin’? M’ fuckin’ tits r’ blockin’ m’ vision.” A fat blob of a man whined.

“Hold on Scott I gotta turn up the volume.” A less fat, but still incredibly massive, man replied. The less fat man placed a milkshake in between the blobbish man’s moobs, with the latter eagerly sucking down the contents of the cup.

“Roge-URRRRRRRRRRRP. Whaddare they sayin’ damnit!” Scott whined again, finishing the milkshake in record time.

Roger smirked and smacked Scott’s immense belly, “You’ve got no opposition m’ friend. You’re running unopposed next election.”

The wide man forgot to mention how he had gotten a few of the skinnier interns to infiltrate Alternatives for Health’s own office and sneak McTasties into their diet. A combination of this and tactically cutting off their funding so fast food was all they could afford spiraled to a quick downfall of their opposing organization. Scott let out a fart from the pressure on his belly, smiling nonetheless. “Thas…URRRRRRPP…fuckin’ awesome.” He unabashedly stated.

“Still it’ll be Stocksville’s first mayor who’s a human blob. And I don’t think it’ll be the last.” Roger stated, planting a kiss on Scott’s greasy lips.

Scott let out more gas, drool and more greasy getting into his beard, “Huh? Did ‘m new order come yet?” Scott had gotten a one-track mind. Which might have been a good thing had he not been corrupted with greasy takeout. The naked blob of a man now never left his office. Not that he could, given his recent immobility in the past month. His thighs were as thick as a hog plumped for a Christmas dinner, leading to an ass that was as large as his belly just months ago. Whenever the man moved, either to let out gas, to try to see the TV, or, recently, to pleasure himself, his entire body jiggled as if shockwaves were sent through him.

Arms hung uselessly at his sides, sitting on rolls upon rolls of fat. His face was basically just his unkept goatee, his several chins, greasy, and sweat. Oh christ the sweat. It was as if Scott had constantly come back from a workout at the gym, but his workout was simply processing thoughts and eating his McTasties meals. It got tangled in his hairy body and made the entire office smell like a sports locker room.

“Scott, ‘m back with your pre-pre-brunch snack!” Roger reassured the massive man.

Roger hadn’t faired much better after being ‘convinced’ by Scott to try McTasties. He was also shirtless, but wore underwear that had definitely seen better days. Just their yellow coloring and greasy stains were enough to paint a detailed picture. His gut rested over these underwear, looking like a dad who had recently gotten divorced and hit the liquor store too much, though with a more jiggly belly. He looked like Scott did just months ago, which didn’t bode well for his future. “Anything I can get for ya while I’m up babe?” Roger asked, opening his phone to see the news about Alternatives for Health.” The two had started dating because of what Scott again contributed to his “charisma.” They were basically inseparable now, Roger serving at Scott’s beck and call.

“Actually, fuck, yeah.” Scott said through mouthfuls of food, “Call in ‘n intern an’ suck me off.” Giving a knowing smile, Roger leaned against his massive boyfriend’s belly. He slowly got on his belly and crawled under Scott’s massive belly. They had done this enough times that Roger knew where to go in the sweaty expanse.

As an intern walked in and started to feed Scott, the immense man started to let out some affirming swears. Roger knew he found his goal.

“URP, Mayor Bradley, what will you do to, uh, ya know, make sure our city stays great?” An interviewer asks over a video call.

“I’ll, uhm, URRRRRRRRP, uh, yeah.” Scott replied.

They were all too fat to do professional interviews in-person anymore. Not that it mattered. They only had one choice anyways. Thank god they weren’t doing this in-person anyways. Scott barely fit in frame on the Zoom call. He barely fit in his office anymore. An amalgamation of sweaty, hairy fat.

“Great response, babe.” Roger egged his boyfriend on. He was nearing immobility too, struggling to get up and feed Scott nowadays. The interns took care of that for them.

The interviewer, clearly struggling to paint Mayor Bradley in a good light, asked another question. “To what do you contribute your, URRRRRP, successes.”

Scott nearly went cross-eyed. He let out a far that was audible on camera before responding. “More, URRRRRRRRRP, McTasties. Thas what’ll do!” He slurred.

The interviewer smiled and said, “Excellent idea!”

“They should, PFFFFFFFFFTTTTT, vote fa’ me jus’ ‘cus ‘m hot.” Scott gobbled down multiple burgers after the interview. Grease splattered all over him, and the walls. And his rolls. And his tits.

“That’s a gr-URRRRRRRRRRP-great idea babe!” Roger continued to egg on the massive man.

It was a wonder nobody realized how their demon, oh sorry, ‘advice’, had caused all of this. Roger didn’t do a very good job at hiding the evidence once he got a bite of McTasties.

If anyone had the brains to realize what was going on, they’d know their mayor hadn’t any.

That was okay, though. A quick bite of McTasties would fix their worries. Thank god they were expanding to other cities nearby.

#weight gain #male weight gain #male weight gain story #gay weight gain

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colorfultheoristpeace · 1 month

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The contract

Young Jackson had always longed to be free, to get a fat belly and to stuff his face. When a handsome stranger offers him just that, he can't refuse. He relizes too late that he might be in over his head though...

Jackson stumbled through his front door, the sounds of the evening still bouncing around in his head like the upbeat college party music he had left behind. The smell of greasy pizza lingered in his clothes, remnants of the night’s indulgence. With each step he took, his thoughts danced between exhilaration and a sense of looming dread—a duality he often felt as he navigated through life as a handsome jock admired by many but secretly haunted by a desire he couldn’t share.

In his dorm, Jackson flicked on his laptop and stared at the glowing screen, his heart racing at the prospect of finally embracing the truth he had concealed for so long. He had always managed to charm his way through life, with his striking brown skin, wild curls, and athletic build. But underneath it all, he harbored a yearning—to be heavy, to let go of societal expectations and indulge in the pleasures of food and body.

After several moments of hesitation, he typed the name of the gainer and feeder website he had long researched but never had the courage to visit. With a few quick clicks, he created an account, and his soul stirred with excitement tinged with trepidation. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he crafted a profile, pouring out his hidden desires, sharing fantasies of luscious meals and the softness of a growing belly. He was almost too eager, waiting for connection, for someone who would understand.

And then, there it was—a message. It was from Malcolm, a user with a profile picture that radiated the essence of confidence and indulgence. He was a well-built man in his forties, clearly successful, and his profile showcased an array of decadent meals, each one glistening with promises of pleasure and satisfaction. Jackson’s pulse quickened as he read Malcolm’s first message, welcoming him to the community and expressing admiration for his boldness.

As they continued to chat, Jackson felt an electrifying thrill. Malcolm was everything he had envisioned—charismatic, knowledgeable, and utterly supportive. They exchanged stories, their exchanges traversing from light-hearted banter to deep discussions about desires, insecurities, and fantasy lifestyles. The allure of Malcolm's wealth and experience captivated Jackson; he could sense the man’s passion for helping others embrace their desires. There was a mutual recognition of kindred spirits.

Weeks passed, and Jackson found himself logging in daily, sharing intimate fantasies and slowly relinquishing his long-held fears. Malcolm encouraged him to explore food and self-love, suggesting meals and treats to indulge in. The thought of buttery pastries and creamy pasta ignited a hunger in Jackson that went beyond the physical. He visualized the warmth of a full belly, the comforting weight of a heavier body, and a freedom from expectations.

It wasn’t long before their conversations evolved from the virtual to the real. Malcolm proposed a weekend getaway to his luxurious estate, an invitation laced with promise and intrigue. Jackson hesitated at first, overwhelmed by both excitement and fear, but the thought of meeting Malcolm in person pushed him beyond his comfort zone. It felt like a leap into the unknown, where he could finally embrace the truth of who he was and shed the facade of the perfect jock.

On the weekend of the escape, Jackson packed a few essentials but left behind the invisible chains of conformity. He arrived at Malcolm’s estate, greeted not just by the richness of the surroundings but by Malcolm himself, who stood there with a warm smile and open arms. The moment felt electric.

As they spent the weekend together immersed in culinary delights—gourmet meals lovingly prepared, relishing every bite—Jackson found an unexpected sense of belonging. For so long, he’d been torn between his identity as a charming athlete and the man he secretly longed to be. In Malcolm’s presence, he felt safe, liberated to explore his desires without shame or judgment.

With each delicious meal they shared, Jackson felt the shift within himself; not just physically, but in his self-acceptance. Malcolm's laughter and gentle encouragement allowed him to slip into his fantasy without reservations. And as they indulged, each bite a celebration, Jackson could feel the weight of his desires taking shape, forging a new identity—a blend of all the selves he had ever been.

Jackson sat back in his chair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he patted his stuffed belly, feeling the gentle swell through his fitted shirt. The dining table was a testament to indulgence: empty plates scattered around him held traces of the decadent feast he just demolished, each bite savored and enjoyed. The air still echoed with the rich aromas of garlic butter and savory spices, remnants of the gourmet meal that had delighted him just hours before.

As he wiped his mouth with a napkin, he glanced over at Malcolm. The older man leaned back in his own chair, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mixture of mischief and admiration. There was a glimmer of satisfaction in Malcolm’s gaze as he watched Jackson—a young man transformed by desire, courage, and the promise of a new life.

“Jackson,” Malcolm began, his voice smooth and enticing, “I’ve been thinking about how much you’ve embraced this journey already. You've gained ten pounds in just one month, which is impressive for a start.”

Jackson beamed at the praise, a burst of pride swelling within him. “I can feel it. Everything is tighter, and honestly, I love it.”

Malcolm’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, suspense building around the table like an electric current. “What if I offered you something even better? How would you feel about moving in here indefinitely?”

For a moment, Jackson’s breath caught in his throat. The idea was seductive—waking up in a mansion catered to his newfound desires? A private wing, away from the distractions and expectations of his old life? He felt torn between disbelief and excitement, like a child being offered the most delightful gift.

“No expectations of sex or other demands,” Malcolm continued, seeing the glimmer of intrigue in Jackson’s eyes. “All I ask is that you eat everything I provide. Let me take care of you, and embrace this journey without reservations.”

Jackson felt something shift within him—a thrilling rush that sent shivers down his spine. He was captivated by the idea of total liberation and surrender. Each meal would be a celebration, every indulgence a testament to his evolving identity. Malcolm’s words hung in the air, pregnant with possibility.

“And,” Malcolm added, sliding a plate of sausage rolls toward Jackson, “there’s just one thing—you’ll need to sign a contract. It frees me from any consequences regarding your weight gain. I can encourage you, but ultimately, it’s your choice to indulge.”

Jackson’s eyes widened, not out of fear, but exhilaration. He picked up a sausage roll, its flaky pastry warm against his fingers, and, with eager enthusiasm, he stuffed it into his mouth. The flavors exploded in his mouth, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

As he chewed, Malcolm looked at him intently. “Think about it, Jackson. This can be your new reality.”

The thought of the contract felt liberating, like a personal manifesto declaring that he was finally allowed to pursue the life he secretly craved. The weight of societal expectations seemed to fade away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of freedom. He found himself nodding, mouth full, caught up in the ecstasy of the moment.

“Okay,” he murmured, the words muffled but resolute. “I’ll do it.”

Three days later, Jackson was more than ready to reshape his life. He had taken the leap, transforming his vision into reality. Leaving behind his phone and any reminder of his previous existence felt almost cathartic; it was an act of rebirth. Malcolm had provided him with everything he needed—the essentials and more, tailored to his every whim, from the finest clothes that hugged his expanding figure to gourmet meals that celebrated his insatiable appetite.

As he settled into the private wing of the estate, Jackson felt alive in a way he had never imagined. The lavish surroundings felt like an extension of his desires, a physical representation of the journey he had embraced. With each passing meal, he indulged further, exploring new heights of pleasure and expansion. He would wake up each morning filled not with anxiety, but with eager anticipation for the delicious day ahead.

The months passed in a blur of culinary bliss and personal transformation for Jackson. He had fully embraced the fantasies he once dared only to dream about, surrendering completely to the life Malcolm had encouraged him to adopt. Each day felt like a sumptuous feast, a celebration of abundance where indulgence was the norm and restraint was a distant memory.

His mornings began leisurely, the sun filtering through the luxurious drapes of his private wing, casting a warm glow over the plush bed where he would awaken. Before even opening his eyes fully, he could smell the rich, enticing aromas wafting through the air, a promise of the decadent breakfasts Malcolm prepared daily.

As he padded to the dining table, he found Malcolm already waiting with a spread that could make any gourmet chef jealous: waffles dripping with syrup, an array of freshly made pastries, and a mountain of crispy bacon. Malcolm’s eyes sparkled with delight as he watched Jackson devour his breakfast, the young man’s appetite driving Malcolm to create ever more sumptuous meals.

“Eat up, my handsome glutton,” Malcolm would tease, as he affectionately placed more food on Jackson’s plate. With every bite, Jackson could feel the rush of pleasure coursing through him. It was a euphoria he never wanted to end, and the weight gain that trailed behind it felt like a badge of honor, a tangible symbol of his newfound freedom.

Malcolm encouraged Jackson to take it easy, suggesting he should avoid unnecessary movement and conserve his energy for eating. “Why bother lifting weights in the gym when you can lift a fork at a luxury dining table?” he’d quirk, and Jackson couldn’t help but laugh, the comment reverberating in his mind like a siren song. It was so easy to lean into the life of relaxation and indulgence.

As he settled into this rhythm, Jackson’s body began to take on a new shape. The athletic frame that once defined him waned as layers of softness enveloped him. His clothes grew tighter; shirts that once hugged his muscles now clung to the plush girth forming around his belly. Each larger shirt size he had to purchase felt like a small victory, an acknowledgment of the journey he had embarked on, moving from ‘ex-jock’ to ‘chubby’ and then blissfully transforming into the realm of ‘glutton’—a term he had come to embrace with open arms.

When Jackson stepped on the scale one morning and saw the number flash back at him—250 pounds—his heart raced with joy. Just four months had passed since he signed that contract, and in that time, he had gained a full 60 pounds. The thought of becoming even bigger filled him with excitement and anticipation. He could already imagine the way his body would soon swell, the joy of feeling that familiar fullness radiate through him, and the softness in his physique that he had come to crave deeply.

Malcolm noticed the change in Jackson, not only in his appearance but also in his energy. There was a steady, joyful glow about him as his confidence grew. One evening, as Malcolm fed him piece after piece of decadent dessert, he turned to Jackson, a playful smile dancing across his lips. “You realize you’re becoming a true masterpiece, don’t you?”

Jackson blinked, taking a moment to shove a creamy chocolate eclair into his mouth before responding, “I can feel it, and I love it.” He felt weightless despite the heft of his body, more liberated than he had ever been.

Malcolm continued to spoil him, not just with food, but with affection and encouragement. He made Jackson feel seen and adored—a stark contrast to the pressures of being the perfect athlete, which had always hung heavily over him. Each satisfying meal was punctuated by laughter and stories, their bond growing deeper as Jackson transformed right before Malcolm’s eyes.

At night, they would curl up together on the sprawling sofa, Jackson reclining comfortably with his new belly resting in his lap. Malcolm would feed him still—this time snacks and late-night treats—as they watched movies. Each time a morsel passed Jackson's lips, it felt like a tiny celebration of his new life, a reminder of how far he had come.

And in those moments, Jackson realized that this was the life he had been yearning for, a radical departure from the jock persona he had long been trapped in. He was no longer just an image crafted by societal standards; he was becoming a version of himself he adored—decadent, unapologetic, and entirely free to embrace his deepest desires. The thought of growing even larger, of living in a body that was the very embodiment of his fantasies, fueled him with indescribable joy.

As Jackson settled into this new way of being, he found comfort in the knowledge that with each day that passed, he was growing—physically and emotionally—into a world where he could belong, love, and thrive. And the realization of his impending transformation into something even greater filled him with an effervescent delight that illuminated his spirit. The future was bright, and it was gloriously full.

It didn't take long before Jackson's life at Malcolm’s estate had evolved into a luxurious, indulgent dream—one that was deliciously intoxicating. Each day felt like a grand buffet, overflowing with delightful flavors and culinary creations, and he had become an expert in gluttony. The sheer pleasure of surrendering to his appetite overwhelmed him, but unbeknownst to him, Malcolm had plans that would elevate his indulgence to a level Jackson had never imagined.

One late afternoon, while Jackson lounged on the sprawling sofa, his belly spilling over his waistband, Malcolm approached with a devious smile. “I have an idea to help you reach new heights of indulgence,” he said, his tone laced with mischief.

Curiosity piqued, Jackson turned toward him, ready to entertain whatever delicious notion Malcolm had in mind. “What do you have in mind?”

Malcolm leaned in closer, his voice low and enticing. “What if I could ensure you consume thousands of extra calories overnight while you sleep? Imagine waking up even fuller, more satisfied, and ready for another day of feasting.”

Jackson blinked, the concept both thrilling and perplexing. “How would that work?”

With a glint in his eye, Malcolm explained the plan: he would mix highly caloric gainer shakes—created from a concoction of high-fat ingredients, sugars, and protein—then feed the shakes to Jackson through a tube during the night. The thought of gaining weight even in his sleep sent a rush of excitement through Jackson, and a grin spread across his face as he considered the possibilities.

“I’m in,” he declared, feeling a primal hunger swell within him.

The first few nights of the gainer shake regimen were an adjustment. Jackson struggled with the sensation of swallowing while unconscious, the process feeling foreign and uncomfortable at first. But each morning, he awoke to find himself fuller than ever, the scale creeping upward as he indulged in his meals during the day, fueling his insatiable appetite.

As the weeks rolled on, Jackson found that swallowing became second nature. His body adapted, the action becoming automatic. With each night of feeding, he welcomed the tide of calories, feeling both exhilarated and out of control. The concept of gaining weight while sleeping was intoxicating—he could indulge in sumptuous feasts throughout the day and layer on additional calories at night as he drifted into dreams of food.

However, the consequences of this new routine came swiftly. Jackson noticed that his clothes felt increasingly constrictive, fabric stretching in defiance of the massive gain. He began to see the telltale signs of his rapid transformation: red stretch marks appeared across his expanding body, stark lines etched into his skin that both frightened and thrilled him. They were visceral reminders of his journey, signals that his body was continuously adapting but struggling to keep pace with his relentless weight gain.

Within just a few months of incorporating the gainer shakes, Jackson found himself enamored with the excess and indulgence, yet unease crept into his thoughts. He was now tipping the scales at a staggering 310 pounds, a massive 120-pound increase since moving to Malcolm’s estate just seven months prior. His figure had transformed drastically, flattening muscles yielding to a sea of softness, his former athletic physique now a distant memory.

Jackson's days blurred together, a haze of food, fullness, and the comforting embrace of his growing size. He lounged around the estate in loose clothing, letting the pleasure of each meal wash over him, savoring flavors and textures as he stuffed himself with enormous plates of food. Malcolm seemed to thrive on his progress, showering him with love and encouragement, invigorated by Jackson embracing this new identity.

But as the months went by, Jackson began to feel a nagging sense of worry. Each ounce of weight gained felt like a loss of control over his body. He started noticing the decrease in his mobility; bending over to pick up a stray snack became a Herculean task, and simple actions like standing for too long left him breathless. The joy he once felt with every indulgent meal was now tinged with anxiety.

A moment of clarity dawned on him one evening as he stood in front of a full-length mirror, watching the way his body had transformed. He could hardly recognize himself; he was now a flabby, sweaty fat man, his once-defined features softened to the point of obscurity. The image reflected back was of a man who seemed resigned to a life he did not wholly understand, and the implications of his newfound size loomed heavy in the air.

“How far do you want to go with this?” he whispered to himself, feeling the weight of the question sink in. The question echoed with deeper implications of surrender and self-discovery, blurring the lines between desire and concern.

Jackson found himself deliberating as he sat at the dining room table, a plate piled high with pasta, bread, and an array of desserts in front of him while Malcolm cheered him on. Could he possibly abandon the remnants of the future he once envisioned? A vision of himself as a healthy, active man felt worlds away. In the haze of inviting flavors, he struggled with the awareness that the pace of his transformation was accelerating, and he had a decision to make about the path Malcolm presented.

Malcolm’s encouragement was compelling, but Jackson began to wonder how much of this indulgence was truly what he wanted and how much stemmed from a powerful influence guiding him alongside his own ambitions.

As he lifted a forkful of decadent food to his mouth, that cloud of doubt hovered, a stirring in the depths of his mind.

As the days blended into weeks, Jackson found himself grappling with the immense physical changes he had undergone. At over 400 pounds, every task had become a Herculean effort. Simple acts like getting off the couch, tying his shoes, or even walking across the room felt like daunting endeavors. All he seemed capable of was eating, a skill he had perfected to an art form.

One afternoon, after a particularly enormous lunch, Jackson sank into his familiar spot on the couch, a wave of frustration crashing over him. He looked at Malcolm, who was cleaning up the remnants of their meal, and hesitated before voicing the thought that had been haunting him for days. “Malcolm, maybe we should slow down for a bit. I mean… I’m struggling with everything now. I don’t want to get unmanageable.”

Malcolm paused, a sinister smile creeping onto his lips as he turned to face Jackson. “Slow down? Why would you want to do that, my dear Jackson?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the warmth he had exuded early on. “You’ve come so far. Besides, aren’t you enjoying this?”

Jackson felt a knot tighten in his stomach as dread settled over him. There was something in Malcolm’s tone that felt off, as if his words masked a deeper truth. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered, unsure of himself. “I just feel… stuck.”

Malcolm’s smile widened. “Stuck is exactly where I want you, my lovely glutton.” He walked over to a drawer in the adjacent cabinet, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Do you remember the contract you signed?”

Jackson’s heart raced, the sweet memories of his initial excitement fading as anxiety crept in. “Of course, but—”

“The contract,” Malcolm interrupted, holding it up triumphantly, “isn’t just what you think it is. It’s more than just a waiver; you signed your future away, Jackson.”

“What are you talking about?” Jackson’s voice trembled, panic rising within him as Malcolm unfolded the paper, revealing several pages.

“Did you bother to count them?” Malcolm’s voice held a mocking lilt, a sense of triumph that sent chills down Jackson’s spine. “You only looked at the first few, didn’t you? You were so caught up in the fantasy, so eager to sign away your former life, that you neglected to notice the final page.”

Malcolm turned the last page toward Jackson, revealing a set of terms he had not noticed before—crushing stipulations that laid out the irrevocable hold Malcolm had over him. Jackson’s eyes widened in horror as he read the text aloud, disbelief and anger flooding his veins.

“You… you can’t do this,” he stammered. “I didn’t understand. I didn’t know!”

“Oh, but you did. You signed it willingly.” Malcolm’s voice was smooth, yet the underlying pleasure he took in Jackson's discomfort was palpable. “You see, my dear Jackson, you are at my mercy now. I hold dominion over how, when, and why you get to eat.”

Jackson's heart raced as he processed the implications. “You’re saying I can’t leave? I can’t… I can’t contact anyone?” The reality of the situation sank in, and his anger sparked like a fire igniting dry wood. “You tricked me!”

“Tricked is such a harsh word,” Malcolm purred, leaning closer, his presence intimidating. “I merely presented an opportunity—a chance for you to embrace your desires. You wanted this, Jackson. You made the choice.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. The kindness Malcolm had shown, the warm, encouraging words—they had all been a facade, a carefully crafted illusion designed to lead him down this sinful path. “You just want to feed me until I’m a prisoner in my own body! You’re a monster!” Jackson shouted, fervor fueling his voice.

With a disarmingly calm demeanor, Malcolm replied, “Monster? Or perhaps a guide? I’m simply helping you achieve the life you’ve always dreamed of—one filled with delight and endless indulgence. You are lucky to have someone who understands your true potential.”

Jackson’s vision blurred as tears of anger threatened to spill. It felt surreal, like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. All the laughter, the affection—it had all been part of a cruel ruse. He had willingly signed his fate away to a villain masquerading as a benefactor.

“Forever,” he said in disbelief, the weight of the word pressing down like lead. “You expect me to live here forever?”

“Of course. You’ll be cared for, fed, and loved, Jackson. I’ll take care of you in ways you never imagined possible.” Malcolm’s voice dripped with insincerity, yet it rang with an eerie sense of authority.

Jackson’s world began to spin as reality sank deeper. All the dreams of a carefree life, of savoring food without guilt—what had seemed like liberation had twisted into shackles that bound him tighter than any physical restraint. His own desire to embrace gluttony had become a weapon against him, wielded by someone who relished his downfall.

“I want out,” he protested weakly, the resolve in him faltering under the weight of the truth.

Malcolm smirked, holding the contract between his fingers like a trophy. “There is no out, Jackson. You belong to me now. And together, we will explore the depths of your new reality until I am satisfied.”

Jackson felt a shiver run through him, anger mingling with defeat. He had gone from an empowered man to a puppet, strung along by someone who reveled in his submission. The thought stirred a rage and sadness deep within him, but it was overshadowed by the daunting reality of what lay ahead.

As he sat on the couch that evening, surrounded by opulence yet trapped by his own choices, Jackson felt the walls closing in. Each plate of food that Malcolm placed before him felt heavier as he considered the sinister implications tied to every bite. The once-exciting prospect of indulgence transformed into a deep pit of despair.

And as he took another mouthful, the betrayal of his own desires echoed in his mind: How could he have signed over his life so willingly, only to find himself caught in a web of gluttony crafted by a man who sought nothing but to see him immobile and utterly reliant? The bittersweet taste of food turned sour in his mouth as he faced the harsh truth of his new existence, forever tangled in the web of a devilishly clever feeder.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow around the estate. Jackson stirred from a restless sleep, the oppressive weight of his body a constant reminder of his new reality. He could feel the emptiness in his stomach, persistently grumbling for more of the gainer shake that Malcolm routinely fed him. As the fog of sleep cleared, the realization struck him—he had consumed the shake in his sleep without even being aware of it.

Panic surged within him, a wave of desperation pushing against the walls of his confinement. He needed to escape. The idea became a primal urge, the last flicker of autonomy in a life that had spiraled out of control. With newfound resolve, Jackson swung his legs over the side of the bed, huffing with the effort, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The once-spacious bed now felt like a cage, and every movement sent jolts of discomfort through his joints.

He steadied himself, gritting his teeth against the pain as he stood. The rush to act fueled his adrenaline, and he took a moment to gather his bearings. This was his only chance. With determination coursing through him, he waddled toward the door, each step an agonizing reminder of the bulk he now carried.

As he hesitated in front of the door, hope bloomed. He placed a sweaty palm against the cool handle and pushed it open, stepping into the cool night air. Jackson's heart raced; he was finally outside! Gulping down a breath of freedom, he set off as quickly as his cumbersome frame would allow, grunting with the effort to move.

But the distance proved deceptive. Each step was a laborious challenge. His body, laden with weight, protested ruthlessly. The hunger gnawed at him, a constant, insatiable companion. As he pressed forward, it felt like the ground below him was trying to swallow him whole, and soon enough, an uncomfortable burning began to flare in his legs.

With every foot he gained, the shadows around him seemed to close in, tightening the grip of fear around his heart. Fragments of his former life flashed in his mind—days spent running and swimming, feeling light and free, and now he was almost completely immobile. He could hear the faint rustle of leaves and the distant calls of night creatures, but his immediate surroundings felt suffocating.

Just when he thought he might actually escape, Jackson’s legs buckled beneath him, overwhelmed by the weight he carried. He collapsed onto the ground with a loud thud, his enormous backside smacking the earth with a resonance that sent shockwaves through his body. Fat quivered and jiggled violently around him, echoing the helplessness coursing through his veins.

A lump rose in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing against hope that he could somehow vanish, that the earth might engulf him in this moment of defeat. But the harsh reality brought him back; he had barely made it fifty feet from the huge estate that had become his prison.

And then he heard it—a familiar sound that sent a wave of dread shooting through him. The unmistakable rumble of an engine coming to life. Jackson’s heart raced as he turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of Malcolm’s car rolling out of the driveway, headlights piercing the darkness.

Malcolm appeared behind the wheel, a sinister smirk stretching across his face. The taunting grin was like salt in the wound, a direct mockery of Jackson's desperate attempt at freedom. With a heavy sigh of resignation, Jackson felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to cry out, to voice the frustration and anguish that welled up inside him, but all that escaped was a broken noise of defeat.

As the car rolled up next to him, Jackson surrendered, the reality of his situation crashing down hard. He was a sweaty, dirty mess, still in disbelief of how far he had fallen. All the fight he had mustered had crumbled into hopelessness, replaced by an incessant hunger that clawed at him.

Malcolm rolled down the window, his expression gloating as he surveyed Jackson’s unfortunate state. “You really thought you could get away that easily? Such ambition, Jackson,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

Unable to reply, Jackson just stared at the ground, feeling a mix of shame and bitterness consuming him. The weight of his body pressed down, both physically and mentally, and he felt utterly defeated.

Malcolm clicked open the door, an invitation that felt more like an accusation. “Come on, let’s get you back inside. We wouldn’t want you getting lost now, would we?”

With a heavy heart and an aching body, Jackson dragged himself back into the car, feeling the tightness of his clothes suffocate his spirit even more. He settled into the passenger seat, the leather hot against his sweaty skin. The shame of his failure engulfed him as Malcolm drove slowly back toward the house, the engine’s hum a cruel reminder of the freedom he could no longer access.

Desperation lingered as they rolled to a stop in front of the estate. Jackson couldn’t shake the sense of hopelessness that wrapped itself around him like a shroud. He felt trapped in a cycle he wished to break free from but didn’t know how.

“Don’t worry,” Malcolm said as he turned to Jackson with a disconcertingly kind tone that made Jackson’s skin crawl. “You’ll find your way back to fulfillment soon enough. All it takes is a little patience—the journey is part of the indulgence.”

But all Jackson could feel was the weight of submission bearing down on him, and the echo of his failed escape haunted him as he stepped back into the prison that was supposed to be his sanctuary.

Days turned into weeks, and as the cycles of feeding continued unabated, Jackson’s will to fight dwindled to nothing. Each morning, he woke up to the same oppressive reality, layered in layers of flesh that obscured the light around him. The world outside had become a distant memory—a place where movement was effortless and life was active. Now, he barely left the confines of the bed, which had transformed into a cradle for his expansive body.

His arms, once strong and capable, now hung limply at his sides, almost too heavy to lift. The gainer shakes had become his all-consuming focus, the only solace in a life that had narrowed down to the basics: eat and feel full. He would rest his round head on the heavy double chin that rested atop his now enormous chest, a shelf of flesh that jutted out dramatically. His belly surged outward, an immense sack of softness that rendered his legs nearly immobile and the thought of moving them utterly unnecessary.

Malcolm had succeeded completely; Jackson was now nothing more than a pile of flesh, molded into the living testament of his feeder's vision. He had surrendered, entirely consumed by the weight of his choices and the lust for the next shake that awaited him. The once vibrant goals and dreams had eroded into little more than a shallow craving for fullness, the exquisite moment when his stomach felt pleasantly stretched and heavy.

One afternoon, Jackson lay in a languid stupor, his vision hazy as he struggled to focus on the ceiling above, now a distant expanse overshadowed by the mountain of fat weighing down his face. It felt as if everything had closed in around him, and anything beyond the immediate comfort of the shake was foreign. That day, he was surprised to hear footsteps approaching, the soft click of a door drawing his sleepy eyes to the entrance of his room.

To his astonishment, Malcolm entered with a young man in tow—a chubby fellow who bore the vestiges of youth that Jackson once possessed. Instinctively, Jackson's heart sank; he saw in the newcomer a reflection of his former self, the same glimmer of life and hope shining in those wide eyes.

The young man scanned the room, his expression shifting from shock to intrigue as he took in the sight of Jackson, who had transformed from an ambitious man into a formless blob. Jackson could sense the hesitation in the air as the young man stood at that threshold, contemplating the reality that lay before him—one that could soon become his own.

Malcolm, ever the charmer, stepped forward, his voice smooth and enticing as he presented the lure of indulgence and acceptance. “This, my friend, is the life you could embrace. A true surrender to self, and the ultimate pleasure of giving in to your desires. Jackson was once like you, full of ambition and promise. Look at where he is now—a true bearer of fleshly freedom.”

With a widening grin, Malcolm drew a completed contract from his pocket, brightly displaying it as if it were a golden ticket. Jackson's heart raced as he watched the young man’s expression transform. Jackson's pulse quickened, desperate to speak, but all he could muster was a barely audible whimper. Words of warning lodged in his throat; he wanted to tell this young man to run, to reject this fate that had ensnared him. But the heat of hunger still burned within him, and all Jackson could think of was the next shake and the satisfying fullness it would bring.

After watching Malcolm’s calculated persuasion unfold, Jackson felt a single tear escape his eye as he conceded to the inevitable. The last flicker of hesitation evaporated from the young man's face, and with a graceful sign, he committed to the same dark path that had sealed Jackson's own fate.

The moment was haunting, a painful recognition that this young man was embarking on his own futile fight against desires that would only serve to entrap him. Jackson's tear fell onto the plush covers, a silent testament to the loss of potential, a life sacrificed at the altar of gluttony.

As Malcolm turned back to the young man, watching the excitement and anticipation flood his face, Jackson couldn’t help but feel that familiar weight pressing down harder, not merely from the flesh but from the crushing realization that he was trapped—now not just by his own choices but by the choices of another unwillingly ushered into the void.

In that moment, within the confines of his tiny, fat-laden world, Jackson understood the profound sorrow of surrender more than ever before. Every shake would fill him, every meal would expand him, but the price—the unfathomable price—was a life forever engulfed in the shadows of insatiable hunger and the haunting presence of Malcolm’s cruel, captivating embrace.

#bhm weight gain #male feedee #male weight gain story #weight gain #bhm #weight gain story #gay feedism #getting fat #male gainer #bhm belly

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naivemlnd · 9 months

Text

Always in Your Shadow Part 2

Read part 1 here!

Yuki was withdrawn on Friday morning. Before I left for work, I showed her the cot I set up in the basement for her. I even bought her her own iPad to play around on while my parents were here so she wouldn’t get too bored.

Still, she was clinging onto my side like she never wanted to let go. Her tiny arms dug into the chub on my waist.

When I started to leave for work, she burst into tears and I had to spend fifteen minutes calming her down before she let me get out the door. I felt so horrible and guilty that I picked up a dozen donuts on my way to the office and ate four in the car. I wasn’t even sure where that impulse had come from, just that I knew Yuki would’ve encouraged me to get the treats purely because I wanted them. I felt like I owed Yuki something for making her hide away in her own home and somehow that something was… eating donuts. Even though I’d already eaten breakfast.

Yep, that was solid logic.

After work, I had to drive through rush hour traffic to get to the airport, and the whole time I had Yuki on my mind. What was she doing? Was she okay? Was she crying? God, I hoped she wasn’t crying alone in that dark basement. It was too heartbreaking to consider.

When I saw my parents appear outside of ‘arrivals’ it broke me out of my melancholy mood. I was too pleased to see them to stay sad. I hopped out of the car and popped the trunk for their luggage.

“Peter! You look wonderful honey,” my mom fussed, hugging me tightly. My dad patted my shoulder once my mom released me.

“Colorado seems to agree with you,” he said with an amused glance at my belly. I laughed and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Yeah, well. The new job keeps me too busy to exercise much,” I shrugged.

“You look great sweetie, don’t worry, your father is just grumpy from the flight,” my mom said, shooting daggers at my dad.

“I’m just joking, Pete. You look fine,” my dad said as we all got into the car.

“So, how’s everyone back home?” I asked to change the subject. That got my mom started, and on the ride home I got an in-depth update on all the hometown gossip I could possibly want.

I couldn’t help but feel relaxed and happy listening to my mom prattle on about her church friends and their drama. It was so familiar. I’d missed my parents more than I realized.

Once we pulled into my garage, my parents started an excited commentary about how nice my house was. They wanted a tour so I walked them around the place. Nerves hit when they went in my bedroom since I knew Yuki had a drawer and section of my closet filled with her things, but my parents thankfully didn’t go through anything. That would’ve been difficult to explain.

I got my parent’s bags all set up in the guest room and then we ordered in some Thai food. It was weird not having Yuki’s cooking for dinner. I’d gotten so used to being spoiled by her. I tried to keep the frown off of my face as we ate.

While we picked at our food, I talked about my job and how I was liking the new place. I ended up excusing myself at nine since that was when I usually started getting ready for bed. My parents weren’t used to the one hour time difference, so it only felt like eight to them and they decided to stay up for a bit longer.

I headed upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. Once again, I found myself missing Yuki’s presence. I wondered how she was doing. I felt like a parent who’d sent their kid to daycare for the first time. Which was ridiculous. She was a perfectly capable grown woman (demon). I shouldn’t have to worry.

But I was. I was worrying.

When I slipped under the covers of my bed, I stared at the ceiling until my eyes got heavy. I was dozing a bit when Yuki literally appeared out of thin air at the foot of my bed.

“What the,” I said, startled.

Yuki hushed me.

“Sorry, I just. I missed Peter,” Yuki said through a pathetic sniffle.

God, I was like putty in her hands when she did that.

“Yuki…” I glanced at the closed bedroom door. “Come here,” I said, opening my arms for her. She immediately scuttled onto the bed next to me and cuddled up to my side. She fussed, nuzzling me and hugging me all over. She chirped a few times, happy as a clam now that I was giving her attention.

“I know you said to stay downstairs but,” Yuki said apologetically, “I thought of something.” Yuki looked up at me. “You said no one could see me because I don’t look human.”

I nodded sadly.

“So what if I looked human, then I could be here with you and your parents wouldn’t know I’m a demon!” Yuki said excitedly.

I frowned. “How exactly would you do that?” I asked.

Yuki sat up out of my arms and got on her knees on the bed.

“Like this!” And then suddenly Yuki’s horns receded into nothing and her eyes turned dark brown and her tail literally vanished into nothing.

I was staring at a beautiful human woman.

“What? How?!” I stammered in a whisper-yell. She looked so different. It was almost wrong to see her without her distinct demon features, which was ironic since when I first saw her those things freaked me out. Now she looked naked without the horns framing her face like a crown. Her eyes looked so mundane.

“I tried it when you were working to see if I could do it and I can! It’s transformation magic. It’s all thanks to you for making me so strong, Peter,” she said, and then she launched herself back into my arms for a hug.

I laughed into her fluffy black hair.

“You’re brilliant, Yuki. Absolutely amazing,” I whispered.

Yuki shuddered and made a funny excited growl sort of noise.

“Thank you,” she whispered back.

In the morning, my mom made pancakes. She served me four, which I doused in syrup and inhaled in an embarrassingly short amount of time. I tried to pretend like I wasn’t still hungry, but my stomach rumbled audibly.

“Oh, someone’s hungry,” my mom commented, and put a single extra pancake on my plate. Like that was going to sate my hunger.

“Uh, yeah,” I said before stuffing the pancake in my mouth. My parents finished eating and I offered to clean up since it was my house, and also because my mom cooked. They reluctantly agreed and went upstairs to get dressed for the day. Instead of putting the leftover pancakes away, I shoved two in my mouth dry. Chewed. Swallowed. Shoved more in.

It was absolutely humiliating that I had to stuff my face in secret just as to not be embarrassed in front of my own parents. Yuki had been spoiling me too much, it seemed, if my belly couldn’t even go one morning without being jammed full of calories.

I ate all five leftover pancakes and then had a pop tart for good measure. Once I loaded everything in the dishwasher, I went up to get myself dressed.

Yuki and I had stayed up way too late last night planning, and so I had to stifle some yawns as I put on some stretchy athletic shorts and a t-shirt. The shirt clung to my stuffed belly a little too much for my liking, so I spent a minute pulling on the fabric with my fists from the inside of the shirt until it was stretched out enough to hang a little looser over my body.

My parents were already downstairs when I made my way down.

“Do you mind if I invite my friend with us on the hike today?” I asked.

My parents looked surprised for a second before my dad was smiling and my mom was gasping excitedly.

“Of course! Is this a friend from work?” she asked.

I smiled. “No, she’s just someone I met when I was at the grocery store but she also just moved here so we connected through that,” I said, rehashing the story Yuki and I had agreed on last night.

My mom unsubtly mouthed ‘she?’ at my dad. I rolled my eyes fondly. My mom couldn’t help herself.

“I’d love to meet her!” my mom said.

“The more the merrier,” my dad agreed.

Here came the more difficult part. I had to really sell this…

“But, uh I should warn you guys,” I said, furrowing my brow to make it more believable. It worked, as my parents both swiveled to give me their undivided attention. “She was raised in a cult apparently. I don’t know all the details, but you know… She doesn’t know a lot of things about like normal life. So be cool, okay. Don’t embarrass her. She might be shy and stuff too,” I said seriously.

My parents both had matching sympathetic looks on their faces.

“A cult?” my dad repeated, “How horrible.”

“That poor thing,” my mom said sadly. My dad nodded along.

Well, they bought it. So far so good.

Truthfully, the part of this plan I was most nervous about was how Yuki was going to act. I’d had to give her tons of rules and instructions last night on how to act human. Hopefully it would be alright and if she acted odd I could just say that she was eccentric because of her traumatic upbringing.

I pretended to text my ‘friend’ and then announced a few minutes later that she’d agreed to come along.

When eleven A.M. rolled around, Yuki materialized in the backyard in her human disguise and I watched her walk around the house to knock on the front door. Luckily the houses in my neighborhood were a bit spread out and separated further by trees, making it unlikely that anyone could see Yuki appearing out of thin air. My parents were too busy packing bug spray and sunscreen to be looking out the windows too, thankfully.

Yuki knocked on the door. I grinned, excited to see her even though we’d talked through half the night.

“My friend’s here,” I called as I walked to the door.

“Oh how wonderful!” my mom murmured.

I swung open the door and there Yuki was. Only she looked so weird as a human. It was even more disorienting in the daylight. Her fluffy black hair was the same, but her skin no longer looked ashen and grayish, but rather a realistic pale, milky-white. She smiled at me with normal straight teeth.

She looked incredibly nervous.

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “H-Hi Peter!”

My chest fluttered. She was just so…

“What are you doing, Pete? Invite her in,” my dad said from behind me. I rolled my eyes.

“Come on in Yuki,” I said. “This is my dad Ken, and my mom Wendy.”

Yuki hovered near my side but dutifully put her hand out to shake just like we practiced.

“Hello,” she mumbled. “I’m Yuki. Nice to meet you.”

Her voice wavered but my heart was bursting with pride anyway. She was amazing. My parents were easily charmed by her shyness as well.

“It’s great to meet you, honey. Look how sweet you are. Oh good lord, Peter, where did you find her?” my mother gushed.

Yuki looked slightly overwhelmed, so I put a hand on my mom’s shoulder.

“Mom, stop freaking her out. I told you, we met at the store,” I scolded.

My mother tsk-ed with her tongue but let it go.

“Ready to head out?” my dad asked.

So we all loaded into my car, my parents insisting that Yuki take the passenger seat, and we drove off to a nearby nature park.

I tried to focus on the road but Yuki was staring out the window in awe which was very distracting. She’d never been in a car before. My parents didn’t seem to notice, thankfully, keeping up a steady conversation about the weather amongst themselves in the backseat.

Eventually, I parked by the entrance to the hiking trails and we all got out and put on sunscreen and bug spray.

“Ticks are no joke!” as my dad pointed out.

We got started at a relatively slow pace. My parents were both in their 60s after all. I found myself feeling grateful for the easy pace because I hadn’t been doing much exercising lately. My job sort of demanded I be sedentary for at least eight hours a day and with Yuki doting on me all the time whenever I was home… Well it’s safe to say my fitness was pretty much neglected as of late.

Yuki on the other hand was absolutely thriving out here.

“The sun feels so good,” she said quietly to me as we wandered through the trail. It was a beautiful day. I hadn’t realized that she’d enjoy the feeling of sun on her skin. I felt retroactively bad for depriving her all this time even though neither of us had known she could look human until yesterday.

“Look Peter!” Yuki exclaimed loudly, grabbing onto my forearm. “You can see the mountains over there! And, oh my gosh, look at that bird! It’s so pretty!” she gushed.

I couldn’t keep a smile off my face as I watched her excitement. It was contagious.

“Very cool,” I agreed and Yuki looked so pleased that I’d validated her observations.

My parents also noticed and glanced at me with some very suggestive expressions on their faces, mainly my mother.

“Yuki,” my mom said, watching with interest as Yuki dropped her hand from my arm with uncharacteristic shyness. It was probably because Yuki was nervous about blowing her cover as a human.

“Y-Yes?” Yuki replied shyly.

“Where are you from? Peter mentioned that you just moved to Denver,” my mom said with a reassuring smile. It seemed to work since Yuki relaxed a bit.

“Um, Montana,” she said, just like I’d told her to.

My dad hummed. “You liking it here?”

Yuki nodded, an easy smile lighting up her face.

“I like it here too, in case anyone was wondering,” I chimed in, and my parents laughed.

“We didn’t forget about you, honey. But your new friend is just so sweet. What do you do for work, Yuki?” my mom asked.

I knew my mother would be like this. She was nosy by nature. But hopefully Yuki would be alright since we’d talked over her supposed backstory.

“I work for a cleaning agency,” Yuki said slowly.

“Oh, that’s nice! Cleaning can be very therapeutic,” my mom said sagely. I huffed at her attempts at prying.

Yuki didn’t seem to notice that my mom was hungrily digging for information, as she just said, “I love being useful!” with a cheery smile.

My dad raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I said with a tiny laugh. “Yuki is always helping anyone who needs it, aren’t you?”

Yuki started purring from my praise so I coughed loudly before anyone could catch on to what she was doing.

“You alright, Pete?” my dad asked, thumping me on the back.

“Fine,” I said, clearing my throat. “Just swallowed my spit wrong.”

“Don’t you hate when that happens?” my mom said with a shake of her head.

Crisis adverted.

When we got to the lookout over a deep canyon, we stayed and admired the view for a few minutes. My mom took about 100 pictures with all of us in various combinations and poses. Yuki seemed to be having a blast, grinning from ear to ear in every one.

By the time we hiked back to our car, everyone was starving.

My dad suggested we go out to lunch, and my mom readily agreed. Yuki didn’t say anything and I couldn’t think of a reason to decline the request, so we all started googling restaurants nearby.

The issue was that Yuki couldn’t eat. Or she could but she didn’t like to. For some reason, I’d failed to consider the possibility that my parents would want to take my new friend out to eat with us. I felt so dumb. I tried to come up with an excuse for why Yuki couldn’t eat but aside from disclosing some kind of anxiety or eating disorder, I had nothing.

“How about this one? It’s a local bistro, that sounds nice,” my dad suggested.

“Yuki? That sound good to you?” my mom asked.

Yuki looked at me and then back at my parents. “Whatever Peter wants, that’s what I want.”

I could feel my parents’ eyes on me but I just looked at Yuki. My cheeks were probably red but I could blame that on the sun.

“I’m good with that,” I said.

We piled into the car.

The bistro was very quaint. Yuki sat pressed against my side in the booth. While my parents had menus in their faces, she whispered, “My tail really itches but I can’t itch it because it’s gone,” with a sad little pout

I grimaced. “Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

Yuki nodded.

A middle aged lady walked up to our table to take our orders.

My parents got soup and salads, but I wasn’t a big fan of most soups and salads were probably my least favorite food type.

“I’ll have the cheeseburger with no lettuce or tomato and can I make the fries steak fries?” I asked.

“Sure thing, hon,” the waitress said. “And you?” she asked Yuki.

I braced, waiting to see what she’d say. I’m not hungry, I have severe allergies so I don’t eat out, I’m in the middle of a cleanse and I can’t have anything but juice for two weeks…

Yuki said none of those things.

“I’ll have the same as him,” Yuki told the waitress, looking at me.

Well, alright. We’d just have to make enough of her food disappear so that my parents didn’t notice that she didn’t eat. I brainstormed. Maybe we could hide it in napkins or something…

After the waitress disappeared with our menus, my parents got right back to their conversation.

“So Yuki,” my mom started. “Do you have any plans for the holidays? Thanksgiving is only a few months away,” she said.

Yuki shifted her gaze to look at me. “Uh, I-I don’t think so.”

“No?” My mom’s expression turned sightly pitiful. “You should come to Wisconsin with Pete! We always have extra room at our house. We’d love to have you.”

My dad nodded along.

I rolled my eyes. Real subtle, Wendy. My parents were absolutely shameless in trying to get me a girlfriend. It was kind of endearing but ultimately annoying.

“Um, can I?” Yuki asked me, looking up pleadingly. Even though her eyes were an average shade of brown, the puppy dog effect still worked its usual magic on me.

“Of course. If you want to,” I said with a reassuring smile.

“Okay!” Yuki’s face lit up into a breathtaking smile and I swear my heart grew three sizes like in The Grinch.

My mom threw me a knowing look that I ignored.

Luckily the waitress saved me by bringing our food out.

“That was fast!” my dad said.

“It looks great, thank you,” my mom told the waitress.

“Awesome, let me know if you need anything,” the waitress said and then walked off.

My burger looked amazing. I was hungry enough that I dug in without really thinking about anything else, even though Yuki had the same huge portion in front of her that I knew she’d rather not eat. It wasn’t until I’d taken a few bites of juicy burger that I realized Yuki’s ingenious plan.

I watched her just to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no. Yuki picked up her fork, stabbed her steak fries and brought them to her mouth. Only when they were about to breach her lips, they disappeared and she mimed chewing. In the same instant, my pile of fries grew on my plate. With each bite, she magicked her food onto my own plate. The same thing happened when she took a ‘bite’ of her burger. I stared at my own plate and saw the missing bites I’d already taken of my burger reappear whilst her own burger disappeared with each fake bite she took.

Yuki was an evil genius. Because now I had to eat two burgers and heaping portions of fries.

I figured I needed to eat fast in order to keep up the charade before anyone noticed my food was refilling. It was easy enough at first since I was hungry, but by the time I’d eaten my entire portion and still had a half of a burger on my plate, I was getting full. Not to mention a large pile of steak fries. I shouldn’t have stuffed myself full of extra pancakes this morning.

My parents didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, thankfully. They continued on talking about how nice of an area my new house was in and how pretty the scenery was. Yuki and I nodded along, not contributing much.

I shifted, spreading my legs to give my belly more room because yes somehow my gut started filling up into my lap and hanging a tiny bit between my legs recently whereas before it would only barely brush against my lap. I was getting fatter everyday it seemed. And eating two entire entrees wasn’t going to help. Yuki’s plate was pretty much empty, and mine was still half full. Ugh.

I felt a tiny hand brush over my thigh and give it a supportive squeeze. Yuki. It gave me a little encouragement to keep going.

While I probably had enough room to eat all of this, I knew I had to be able to get out of this booth and drive everyone home.

Again, ugh.

I burped into my fist and then picked up the burger. Ate a few forkfuls of fries. More burger. I was getting pretty full, but it felt sort of good in a weird way. Like a nice stretch from the inside. It made me squirm in my seat a bit. I pressed on the side of my belly to relieve some pressure. More burger, more fries. Everyone else was finished eating and that made me feel strangely embarrassed to be the only person still stuffing their face.

“The portion sizes are big here, huh?” My mom commented, watching me eat. My cheeks were surely on fire. “Just because Yuki ate it all doesn’t mean you have to dear,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t know where you put it, Yuki.”

Yuki smiled innocently. “Dunno either ma’am,” she replied.

“Oh sweetie, please call me Wendy!”

As they talked, I finally finished my final bite and leaned back into the booth with a groan.

The waitress dropped off the bill and I had to fight my parents to let me pay for everyone. Once I got my receipt, I sighed and started shuffling out of the booth, wincing as my tender stuffed belly was jostled.

I really needed to quit this habit of overeating.

The whole ride home, I was stifling burps, belly bouncing at any bump in the road. I could feel Yuki’s gaze on me but I focused on the road instead.

When we got back to my house, I offered to walk Yuki to her ‘car.’

My parents each gave her a hug goodbye, which again had my heart thumping way too hard in my chest. Yuki seemed to like the affection too, if her ear to ear grin was anything to go by.

I walked Yuki to the end of the block where the woods got a little thicker. We hovered near the tree line and hopefully out of sight from our neighbors.

“Alright, you can, um, disappear back to the basement from here, right?” I asked.

Yuki hummed and nodded. “Can I go back to our room to sleep again tonight?” she asked.

My stomach filled with butterflies when she said ‘our room’ instead of ‘your room.’

“Of course,” I said and then Yuki stepped up to give me a hug, careful of my bloated tummy, and then promptly disappeared.

My brain didn’t quite understand what I was seeing, Yuki there one second and gone the next, dissolving into thin air, but maybe that was a good thing. It’d probably break my mind if I attempted to comprehend it.

When I walked back to my house, my parents were giving me this annoying look that basically said I’ve known you your whole life, you can’t pull one over on me!

“What?” I asked tiredly.

My mom seemed to visibly contemplate her answer before saying, “Your girlfriend is adorable.”

I eye-rolled hard enough to give myself a headache. My dad burst out laughing at me.

“Mom, Yuki is just a friend,” I said in the patient tone of voice that I often used at work.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “Did you try telling her that? She looks like a lovestruck puppy every time you look at her.”

Yeah, that did sound like Yuki. I’d thought she’d toned it down today though… Did that mean her adoring looks were usually more intense than a lovestruck puppy?

“Well—,” I started, but then I didn’t know what to say. “I’m going to shower off all this gross bug spray and sunscreen,” I announced and then practically ran upstairs, which was particularly impressive on such a full stomach.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Pete!” my mother called.

“I’m going to put you in a nursing home if you don’t cut it out!” I called back.

That night, Yuki appeared in my bedroom after I’d gone to bed. I was so relieved to see her in her true form that I pretty much tackled her in a hug, which was usually the opposite of how it went with us.

“Oof,” Yuki huffed in surprise as I tugged her body into mine. She started purring immediately though.

“I missed seeing you like this,” I mumbled into her fluffy black hair.

Yuki chirped. “Did I do good today?”

I hummed, rocking us both from side to side while we embraced. “You did perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Yuki nuzzled me, careful of her horns. My heart felt so light I feared it would break through my chest and fly away.

“My eyes got kind of dry and itchy after a while, and not having a tail made me feel a little off balance, but I will work on it! I’ll just get better every time!” she announced optimistically.

“Of course you will. You’re incredible, Yuki.”

I pulled back just enough to look at her face. I wanted to see her eyes, her natural eyes.

She blinked owlishly at me, a watery smile on her face. I’d even missed seeing those shark teeth today.

“Your eyes are gorgeous, you know that?” I whispered. Looking at her now after seeing her in a human form all day, I finally noticed what it was about her eyes that enraptured me so. It wasn’t even the color, though that was the most noticeable thing. Nor was it the size, since her eyeball was fairly normal in size.

No, it was that the iris of her eye was far bigger than a normal person’s. The whites of her eyes were mere slivers on each side. That purple iris and huge black pupil were endearingly big, cartoonish even. It was just another thing that added to her beauty.

I yawned, still holding tight to Yuki’s waist.

“Bedtime?” Yuki whispered tiredly.

I loathed letting her go, but I knew we should both get some sleep. So I reluctantly opened my arms and watched her slither under my bed like she did every night.

“Night, Peter,” said the quiet demon under my bed.

“Goodnight, Yuki.”

Even though Yuki was right below me, I felt lonely.

My parents flew out Sunday morning, leaving Yuki and I the entire rest of the day to recover from the stress of the weekend. Yuki was cuddly as usual, but a bit more clingy. Almost like she’d been when she first manifested here. I was clinging right back, to be honest. I didn’t want to examine why that was.

Either way, I decided that since Yuki’s human disguise had worked so well this weekend, that I could start integrating her into the human world a little bit. After all, I wanted Yuki to have some independence.

So Yuki accompanied me to the grocery store that evening. She had on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, and by all means should have looked fairly average. But Yuki was still very beautiful without her demon features, and I became slightly worried as the humans in the grocery store seemed to notice this as well. It probably didn’t help that she was clinging onto me with no shame nor concept of PDA.

“Do humans always stare like this?” Yuki whispered once we’d gotten a cart.

“Sometimes,” I said, “when the person they’re looking at is very pretty.”

Yuki blushed adorably. She was basically glued to my side, hugging my arm and occasionally putting her face into my shoulder to hide from wandering eyes.

“Lots of impure thoughts going on here,” she said with a scrunched nose, glancing at fellow shoppers. I laughed.

“Humans are a bit rotten, aren’t we?”

Yuki’s arms migrated to my middle to give me a tight squeeze. “Not Peter! Peter is a nice person. Never felt anything vile coming from you, never,” she said with a smile.

Ah, well, I guessed I should take that as a compliment.

“You can sense what they’re thinking just by being near them?” I asked while I examined the meat section. Chicken thighs were on sale.

“Mhm! I can only tell when it’s a deviant thought. Pure thoughts are safe from me,” she said, than added, “I don’t really know how it works.”

I put my arm around her shoulder. “That’s alright. Thanks for telling me.”

Once we had all of the fresh ingredients from our list, I led Yuki to the bakery isle. I loved having bread with my meals.

“Get this one!” Yuki picked up the biggest baguette and held it up to me with a grin.

“Okay, fine,” I relented. We went through isle after isle and Yuki convinced me to add more food to my cart than I normally would. It was too hard to say no when she was just so excited over the most mundane things.

When we passed a little display that had glittery snow globes, Yuki basically lost her mind. She shook the thing and watched little reflective pieces float around with an awestruck look on her face.

“It’s soooo cool, can we get it? Please?”

Of course we got that snow globe. And then she smelled some candles that we just had to get!

I never said no to anything she held up to me. Purple oven mitts, a sparkly keychain, a birthday card that sang a stupid song when it was opened… All things that Yuki didn’t need, necessarily. But Yuki wanted them, so she was going to get them. It was possible that I was spoiling her a bit. I reasoned that Yuki spoiled me too, so it all evened out in the end.

By the time we were in the check out line, Yuki pretty much declared that she loved the supermarket.

After the success of that first trip, I was happy to have Yuki tag along with me on other errands. She seemed to love being outside. When I’d come home from work, Yuki would sometimes tell me about how she’d taken to sitting on the patio in the afternoons, basking in the sun. So long as she was in her human form, she was welcome to do that.

And so we settled into a new routine where Yuki had more freedom. She could go with me on errands and potentially in the future once she understood human customs a little better, she would be able to go places on her own.

Just the thought of it made me feel a lot less guilty. Yuki was actually able to exist in the world without being held prisoner in my house now. It was a weight off my chest.

Ironically, the extra weight on my body hadn’t gone anywhere. Instead, I was just getting even fatter. It was out of control, really. I’d only had Yuki back in my life for four months, but I’d gained about 35 lbs. Every dinner was elaborate and delicious, and I typically ate every last bit. And these recipes made enough food for four people!!

It didn’t help that Yuki had begun dabbling in baking too. Now there were pies or cakes or pastries made every few days, and I’d of course eat multiple helpings of those every night after I’d digested enough from my dinner feast.

As a result of all of this overindulgence, I started to be hungrier. In the mornings, a few pieces of toast or frozen waffles used to be enough to fill me up. Now after eating that, I was hungry by mid morning and would snack on vending machine food to tide me over until lunch.

My lunch order was growing along with my waist. It wasn’t intentional, but when I was hungry I had a propensity to over-order. And then when there was food in front of me well…

I couldn’t blame this on Yuki, per se. She wasn’t making me hungrier. But she was encouraging this side of me. Any time I mentioned that my clothes were getting tight or that I should cut back, she’d tell me that she wanted me to be happy. That she could sense that I wanted to eat more. It wasn’t necessarily untrue; I enjoyed letting myself go, eating whatever I wanted, but it was a headache to have to buy new work clothes for the second time in just a few months. It wasn’t like I couldn’t get my clothes on or anything, but I didn’t want to torture myself by having my my pants digging into me all day while I was working, nor did I want to risk looking unprofessional in button downs that were loose enough to fit around me, but were tight enough that my flesh puckered around each button.

My gains were pretty obvious with or without new clothes. My belly, which before looked like a ball belly, or a beer gut, was now drooping a little over my waistband and forming rolls on my sides. My chest had puffed up too, forming two mounds of fat where before had been just hints of softness. Even my fingers looked puffy lately. My face wasn’t showing much, maybe some softness around my chin but, my belly was definitely taking the brunt of the gain, for sure.

I wasn’t particularly bothered by it, which was probably weird. Most people would freak out if they gained so much weight so fast. But for some reason, I only felt like I should be upset, rather than actually feeling that way. It was embarrassing, sure, but not in a bad way. I shrugged it off pretty easily.

As time went on, I began to consider that Yuki had been right about me and my so-called desires.

Eating whatever I wanted was fun. I grew used to being constantly full, and I found that having a full stomach was soothing in a way. Whereas before I would push these feelings away, shame and guilt eating at me, I now tried to embrace them. Yuki wanted me happy. Seeing me happy made her happy. Ergo… I should eat as much as my heart desires. For me. For her.

The mental gymnastics necessary for me to reach this conclusion were irrelevant.

What was relevant was that in a matter of weeks, I was up another 10 lbs. It wasn’t super noticeable, at least to me. Yeah so what if my gut was sitting more in my lap everyday? Or if my upper arms were getting puffier, and that my face and neck were getting thicker? That was normal for a man entering his 30’s!

Anytime I mentioned these changes to Yuki she would coo at me, saying how handsome I looked with a little softness added on. And she said everything so earnestly! I was pretty sure she wasn’t even capable of lying, so I believed her.

Anyway.

As one would suspect, I’d gotten a few lighthearted comments from other execs. My secretary at work, Denise, was too polite to make a comment, but she had been taking lingering looks at my belly, particularly if she’d just seen me eat a huge spread for lunch.

Overall, it wasn’t too bad. Most of the other men I worked with were overweight. The CEO was pretty portly himself, so most of the teasing was self-deprecating, and it never bothered me.

There was one issue, however, that needed to be resolved.

I needed to get Yuki an identity. A real one. One that would let her get on a plane to Wisconsin come November because I’d promised Yuki that she could have Thanksgiving with my family.

And yes, I was willing to commit a crime to make that happen.

In order to get Yuki an enhanced ID good enough to go through airport security, I had to delve back into my old habits as a young teenager with way too much unsupervised internet access.

I reintroduced myself to the dark web.

It was a testament to how close I’d grown to Yuki that I was even willing to go to such lengths for her.

Going on the dark web was my last resort. I had tried asking Yuki if she could make an ID for herself using demon magic, but she said that she had no power like that. She couldn’t conjure things from nothing, nor could she transform anything but herself, and even that only lasted a short period of time. Her ability to dissolve into shadows was also exclusive to only herself. Yuki explained that she couldn’t take anyone or anything with her when she did so.

So I got my VPN going and searched my way through darknets I hadn’t visited since I was in college. It took the better part of an afternoon before I found what I was looking for: someone who made and sold birth certificate and state ID forgeries. The person’s services supposedly included forging military ID’s and security badges good enough to get into the pentagon, so I hoped it was as legit as it seemed. It was insanely expensive (I only gave partial payment upfront, I’m not an idiot) and I had to send in several photos of Yuki’s human face so that the person could complete my order. It was supposedly going to arrive in my P.O. Box next month.

Several thousands of dollars poorer, I would finally have a genuine identity for my strange, little lurking demon. I hoped she wouldn’t mind that I’d put my last name as hers as well. I just figured it would be easier that way.

Soon, it was Halloween. We passed out candy all night, which Yuki found fascinating.

She probably made every kid’s night by sharing enthusiastic praise about every child’s costumes as they came up our walkway. I couldn’t help but grin at seeing her interact with humans. She was a bit childlike herself, especially when she got excited. She would gush over every cool mask or pretty dress. She squealed in delight at the one boy dressed as a superhero.

And then at the end of the night, Yuki hand-fed me all of the leftover candies, looking all sweet and doting.

No matter what she did, Yuki was always gentle, and kind, and caring, and beautiful, and…

Stop, I mentally slapped myself.

Yuki’s (forged) ID came in in the mail with only a week to spare before our Thanksgiving trip to Milwaukee. I was a mess of nerves all week, worried about whether or not Yuki would be able to get through TSA with her forged license. I ate my stress a bit, munching on snacks all throughout my workday and eating my now-typical dinner feast.

The day of the flight, Yuki was a bundle of nerves, so I pushed my own worries down deep. I had to be strong for her.

As we stood in line, I ran a hand over Yuki’s back. She was biting her lip and I knew that if she hadn’t been in her human form, her tail would have been nervously flicking from side to side. This had to work. We’d taken an Uber to the airport since it was cheaper than paying for parking, so if this forgery caused even the slightest of problems, we’d be stranded here with no real escape plan.

Think positively, I admonished myself.

Eventually, it was our turn to approach. I showed them our tickets on my phone, and then the man scanned my ID. The scanner light was all green.

Yuki’s hand shook as she handed him her ID.

I tried not to look suspicious but I was sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat.

It turned green.

“Here you go, have a nice flight,” the man said in a monotone voice. I nodded and we hurried into the next line.

“See, it’s fine,” I told Yuki.

Yuki purred quietly.

“Peter’s amazing,” she said softly.

The rest of the security check was uneventful, if you didn’t mind the casual verbal harassment from airport security as we loaded up our belongings to get x-rayed. That always seemed to happen whenever I traveled. I wondered why airport security was so grouchy.

They did pat down Yuki’s back because apparently, her hair was too fluffy for the body scanner or something, but Yuki was her usual good sport about it as a woman ran her hand over Yuki’s shoulders and upper back.

We made it through. I smiled to myself as we put our shoes back on.

“AH! It’s so good to see you! How was the flight?!” My mom gushed. Yuki smiled sweetly, but she looked tired. Keeping her human form up for so many hours was draining, though I knew she wouldn’t complain.

“Not bad,” I said, hugging my mom and dad before putting mine and Yuki’s bags in the SUV.

“Didn’t like it,” Yuki said quietly. My mom cooed and pulled Yuki in for a motherly hug.

“Oh, was this your first time flying?”

Yuki nodded into my mom’s shoulder.

“I don’t like flying either,” my dad said. “Human’s aren’t supposed to be so high in the air.” He said it with a ‘tsk’ and a shake of his head.

Yuki met my eye and smiled like we had some kind of private joke. Because Yuki wasn’t human. And yet, she wasn’t meant to be up in the air either. She was meant to be very much below.

It was true that Yuki wasn’t a fan of flying. She hugged my arm and hid her face into it for the whole flight, shaking and whining whenever there was turbulence. I wished I could’ve given her something to relax but I honestly wasn’t sure if human medicine would even have an effect on her.

My parents, predictably, talked Yuki’s ear off for the whole drive. My childhood home wasn’t too far from the airport, so it only took about 20 minutes.

When we arrived, Yuki leaned very close to me.

“I remember being here,” she said in a quiet voice. “Here is where I met Peter.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “Yeah,” I said, throat tight with… something.

But then my dad was getting bags from the trunk so I went over to help him. He had a bad back, so really he shouldn’t be lifting all that, but he never listens.

“I’ve set up Peter’s old room for you two,” my mom was telling Yuki.

“O-Oh,” Yuki said. She had to be exhausted. I needed to get her alone so she could transform back. She was pushing her limits.

“Wait, what?” I asked once my mom’s words registered.

My mother sent me an absolutely devious smile. “We made the guest room dad’s office so she’ll have to share with you. Don’t worry,” she said to Yuki, “the bed’s big enough for two.”

Yuki smiled and nodded. I looked at my dad pleadingly, but he just shrugged. He knew better than to interfere with Wendy when she was playing match-maker.

“Happy wife happy life,” he mumbled to me.

My father probably deserved to be sainted for being married to my mom for all these years.

Once we got the bags put away, Yuki and I had a second alone when my parents were downstairs ordering a pizza.

“Did I do… good?” Yuki asked, nuzzling my chest with her forehead. Her human form melted away, revealing the gray-tinted skin, horns, and tail, which was currently poking its way out of the waistband of her pants.

“You did amazing, Yuki,” I said, holding her close. She was pressed right against my belly, and she seemed to like how it felt, squeezing the rolls on my sides with her tiny hands.

“Mmm, so tired,” she mumbled into my plush chest.

“Go to sleep,” I whispered. “I’ll tell them you aren’t feeling well from the flight, okay?”

Yuki groaned lightly which I took as an affirmative.

“Get some rest,” I said, leaning back to look at her face. I cupped her chin in my hand. She blinked her owlish purple eyes at me sleepily. “I’ll be back up later.”

Yuki grinned and her predatory teeth dazzled. “Peter’s the best,” she said as she slithered under the sheets. We hadn’t discussed her sleeping on the bed rather than under like she did at home, but Yuki was so exhausted that I didn’t correct it. “Peter always takes such good care of me,” she mumbled into the pillow. She dissolved into a fit of boneless, relaxed purring.

Oh no.

Yuki’s words hit like bullets to the chest.

Peter always takes such good care of me.

I’m not supposed to feel this way. I had promised myself.

Yuki was docile. Worshipful. That was just how Yuki was. It wasn’t a reflection of how she truly felt about me, was it? She’d say this to anyone in my position.

It didn’t mean she… wanted me.

I went downstairs.

“Where’s Yuki?” My mom immediately asked.

“She wasn’t feeling great from the flight still,” I said. “Decided to turn in early.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Well, we ordered extra pizza since we thought she’d be eating but…” my dad looked me up and down. “Maybe that was a blessing in disguise.”

“Ken!” My mom smacked him with a kitchen towel.

“No, he’s right. I guess I’ve let myself go recently. Job stress,” I said with a shrug.

“That’s perfectly normal,” my mom chimed in. “Eat as much as you want.”

I did. Probably a whole pizza and a few slices extra. I ate until I felt vaguely sick, which was turning into my default setting as of late.

I crawled into bed next to Yuki with a sore stomach, bloated from all the carbonated pop and cheesy-meaty pizza. I burped into my fist a few times as I got settled. Yuki didn’t stir, but she shifted closer to me once I got settled.

“Hick, ugh,” I groaned quietly. My poor stomach was gurgling, struggling to digest.

Yuki turned, and her hand landed on the crest of my gut. I stared at her to see if she was awake. She looked asleep. Steady breathing, eyes closed.

Her fingers slid under the hem of my t-shirt.

I felt myself slipping to sleep as well. The last thing I remember was feeling her hand softly rubbing my belly in soothing circles.

Thanksgiving was a parade of gluttony. It was one of my favorite holidays.

Even as a kid, I loved watching football with my dad, eating until I was groaning, and then getting multiple helpings of dessert after.

Waking up in the middle of the night to have leftovers.

It was comforting in a way.

Yuki seemed to have recovered well overnight. She took her time getting ready before she left the bedroom, only donning her human form at the last second.

“Sure you’ll be okay all day today?” I asked, slightly worried. Yes, she’d done well at the airport in her disguise, but today would be more hours. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

“Mhm!” Yuki said cheerily. She latched onto me like a leech, wrapping me in her arms. I knew if her tail was out, it would’ve been wound around my leg. “Today will be different! Can feed off of Peter today, yes, your aura should be so very filling for me today,” she said. I yelped when her little teeth bit my upper arm where it was most flabby.

“Yuki,” I scolded.

The little demon knew she had me wrapped around her finger, as she just giggled and kissed the sore spot. I was grateful she didn’t do that with her normal teeth.

Although, under a certain circumstance, those teeth could feel…

Danger. Stop. This train of thought is prohibited.

We made our way downstairs where my dad had already gotten the turkey in the oven and my mom was making eggs and bacon to tide us over until dinner.

We took seats at the kitchen barstools.

I watched my mom plate Yuki up some breakfast and licked my own lips in anticipation.

This time, I was excited at the prospect of secretly eating double. I don’t know what exactly changed since the last time she’d done this, but now I wanted it. I wanted to eat as much as I could. I knew it would feel good. I felt warmth spreading through me, pooling in my gut, just thinking about it.

So when Yuki took a big heaping bite of bacon, I stuffed some of my own bacon in my mouth. Sure enough, Yuki magicked her food into my mouth and I smiled as I chewed through a doubled mouthful.

I felt immense satisfaction as I scarfed down two giant platefuls. I also felt very full.

Yuki blinked at me with her typical adoring gaze. I put a hand on her leg under the bar, thinking she was feeling as satisfied as I felt.

“More please!” Yuki said innocently.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“You’re feeling very devious today, aren’t you?” I murmured quietly to Yuki as my mom eagerly refilled her dish.

Yuki giggled. “I can sense it.”

I frowned at her. “Sense what?”

“Can sense the impure thoughts you’re having about being a glutton. It’s making me feel oh so floaty!” she whispered with a slightly crazed smile.

Impure thoughts. About being a what?

But I didn’t get to ask because my mom was walking up to the kitchen island and handing Yuki a plate.

Now to awkwardly chew without being noticed since I was supposed to be done eating… I hid my mouth behind my napkin as Yuki scarfed down ‘her’ second helping.

I sat down on the couch to watch the game. Yuki had offered to help my mom, unsurprisingly. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Yuki dutifully sliced potatoes.

I had hoped to digest more of my breakfast, but it seemed like no time at all had passed before it the turkey was done and I was setting the dining room table.

I didn’t’ know what was wrong with me, but I was feeling that same perverted sort of excitement I’d felt earlier. Even though I wasn’t at all hungry, I just. Wanted food anyway.

“Let’s say grace,” my mom said once all of her side dishes had been plated around the big golden-brown bird in the center of the table.

“Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts….” We recited.

Yuki went ridged before she started to squirm uncomfortably in her chair next to me.

“Amen!”

Yuki melted back into her seat.

“Who wants white meat, who wants dark?” My dad asked, getting up to start carving.

The next hour or so was a blur of flavors. Every bite I took, I was getting a surprise second bite from Yuki. Sometimes the combinations were better than others. Mashed potatoes and turkey? Great.

Green bean casserole and cranberry sauce? Not so great.

But. I kept eating beyond all common sense, because that was what Thanksgiving was about as far as I was concerned.

Everyone was groaning appreciatively at the flavors, paying compliments to my dad (for the turkey) and to my mom (for everything else). Long after everyone else claimed themselves to be stuffed, leaned back in their chairs and wishing they had worn stretchy pants, I kept eating. My stomach was aching by then, but I didn’t care. I’d unbuttoned my pants in preparation before we’d even started eating so I wasn’t phased. And it all tasted so good. Yuki seemed to know it too, as she kept eating as well, secretly feeding me every bit.

I lost count of how many rolls, how many helpings of turkey, potatoes, casseroles, corn I’d eaten. It was an excess, that was all I knew. And when I truly felt like I couldn’t eat even one more bite, absolutely stuffed, painful stretching and shooting pains from my absolute tank of a gut filling my lap, Yuki pushed one more bite of buttery bread down.

I couldn’t help but moan around it.

“We really did a number on that bird, didn’t we?” My mom was boxing up leftovers and yes, there was only about a quarter of the turkey left. The rest of the dishes were either gone or nearly.

It was easily enough food for six people, but three had almost wiped the table clear.

I felt a sick sense of pride, even though my gut ached something fierce and all I wanted to do was lay down.

“Ate too much?” My dad asked. I was in a major food coma, watching Yuki’s fluffy black hair fall over one shoulder as she helped pick up plates.

“You could say that,” I wheezed.

After our trip to Wisconsin, something between Yuki and I changed. It was like some kind of wall had crumbled. Neither of us were acting differently per se, but there was an energy there that hadn’t been there before. Knowing glances replaced innocent ones. I replaced my favorite belt with a larger one.

Whatever was going on with us, this feeding thing, it was no longer ignorable. Before, I could write it off. Yuki was simply engrossed in her new hobby, cooking, and of course my waistband was suffering because of it. That made sense. And Yuki used to have to push me to overeat, back when I was still in denial about how much I liked it.

Then, over time, it became more natural to let myself indulge. I didn’t need prompting to eat enough food for four people at meals anymore. But lately… It was more than indulgence. I was falling into a cycle of gluttony. And I knew that Yuki was pleased at herself for thoroughly corrupting my self-control.

I wished I didn’t find it incredibly attractive.

I did.

Soon the first snowfall of the season was upon us. Denver didn’t get as cold as the midwest winters I was used to, but the storm that came in early December was substantial. We stayed inside, bundled up in blankets cuddling on the couch as we watched it fall. Yuki made me a hot chocolate.

“The snow looks so fluffy,” Yuki commented, and a contented chirp rumbled from her chest.

“We can go out there if you want. But it’s cold,” I warned her.

Yuki’s cheeks flushed with her excitement. “Really?!”

Just that look on her face made me inhale shakily. This was so dangerous. I had been ignoring this feeling for months.

I couldn’t ignore it right then. Not with Yuki’s purple eyes glittering, staring at me like I was her entire universe.

I was falling in love with my demon.

We went outside. Yuki didn’t like being cold as a general rule. She much preferred the heat, as evidenced by her scalding hot baths. But still, she excitedly tromped all around our backyard, even sticking her tongue out to catch some snow flakes.

“Let’s make snow angels,” I said.

“Okay!” Yuki nodded, happy to go along with any suggestion of mine. Then, “What are those?”

After a short explanation, I lowered myself onto the wet, snowy ground. This was a lot more fun when I was a kid, I realized. Yuki followed along until we were both settled in the white snow.

“Now you just move your arms and legs like this,” I said, demonstrating.

“Oh my!”

Yuki giggled happily as we made snow angels.

“Now, here’s the most important part,” I said. “You have to try to get up without messing up your angel.”

Yuki’s brow furrowed. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking I’d never seen such a look of serious concentration on her face.

I tried getting up, noting that it was more difficult since I’d last done this. I didn’t generally get on the floor often, and I definitely hadn’t done it since about 30 lbs ago.

I felt my belly awkwardly pushing into my leg as I got myself into a kneel. I had to take a second to catch my breath.

“Okay, let’s see how we did.” I pushed myself up and then jumped out of my angel. I didn’t do a great job; there was a big boot print in my angel’s wing.

Yuki did much better. Hers was pristine.

“SO COOL!” she gushed. I quickly had an armful of a squirming Yuki. She nuzzled me, even licked my neck, which I thought was a rather strange thing to do, but well. That was Yuki for you.

Yuki purred against me. We risked her coming outside in her true form since her horns were covered by a hat and her tail was tucked somewhere in her snow pants. Her ashen cheeks were pink from the cold and her eyes reflected the white that was falling around us. I found myself looking at her lips.

They were turning a bit blue.

I wondered if she was really purring that hard or if she was trembling from the cold.

“We should go inside and warm up,” I said.

“O-O-ka-ka-ka-y,” she said through a frozen tremble. Her smile didn’t dim at all even as we shuffled inside.

We shed our wet outer garments and thawed on the couch covered in blankets. It was perfect. I couldn’t ever remember a day when I’d been more at peace.

Especially when Yuki decided to warm up the house by baking cookies. I may have eaten 10 in one sitting.

I got up to go to the bathroom later that day and was shocked at how fat I looked in my reflection. Sure, I had decided to just embrace my climbing weight since it seemed to make Yuki and Iboth happy. But seeing myself was still jarring sometimes.

I had a proper double chin these days. My arms, which used to be toned and muscled, now looked swollen with fat. Even my wrists and hands were pudgy. My legs weren’t really that big; I was decidedly top-heavy, but even so, my thighs had started to rub together. My gut was surely the biggest thing about me, but my love handles had swelled to the point where I had an exaggerated muffin top at all times now. I could see that my belly was drooping too. I could barely see my pants-button. And of course when I turned to the side to look at my profile, it was even more obvious how fat I was. My stomach stuck out far enough that it was a little hard to hold my belly button with both hands. I lifted my belly up and watched it jiggle as I let it go.

“Peter! Dinner!” Yuki called.

I sighed and patted my stomach.

“Be right there!”

December was flying by. In what seemed like no time at all, I woke up one morning realizing it was nearly Christmas. I shuffled out of bed rubbing my tired eyes. I could hear Yuki’s heavy sighs and occasional purrs from under my bed and I couldn’t help but smile fondly.

Yuki was not a morning person. She only got up when I was about tot leave to say goodbye to me before I went to work, and even then she always looked sleepy and soft. With swollen eyes and a wrinkles from her pillowcase on her cheeks.

God. Ever since I admitted to myself that I had feelings for Yuki it was like I couldn’t help but thinking of her all the time anymore. My love for her was spilling over into my every waking thought. I was turning into such a sap.

I didn’t act on my feelings. For one, I wasn’t sure if Yuki could even feel romantic love. She wasn’t human. It was easy to forget because she was so kind, compassionate, caring, all attributes that I associated with humanity. But she was a demon and I wasn’t sure if she was capable of human love. I knew Yuki cared about me in her way, but caring about someone and loving them were different. I didn’t know if I could handle it if I confessed only to have her say she couldn’t reciprocate.

For two, I recalled all of the workplace harassment training I’d taken for my job. Hours of my life sitting through modules where relationships with power imbalances were discussed, along with the potential legal ramifications for engaging in such a relationship. Of course, these were geared toward workplace relationships. It’d be unethical for me to date someone in my company, particularly someone who I was a direct supervisor to.

But after everything that happened when Yuki reappeared in my life, I was certain that Yuki and I were in a similar situation. After all, she was beholden to me. She was my demon. That was an uneven power dynamic if I’d ever heard one. And I’d repressed my own growing feelings for her because, on some level, I thought that I would be taking advantage of her if I ever acted on my feelings. And Yuki’s docile nature didn’t dispel that illusion for me. It felt wrong to force my affections on her, even though it was usually Yuki who initiated physical affection. Cuddling could be platonic, after all, so I still felt weird about aiming for more than that.

But I wasn’t so sure anymore. Yuki had the ability to have her own life outside of me now. She’d met my parents, gone out in public with me several times, and we were working on her becoming even more independent. So maybe it could work. Maybe it wouldn’t be wrong to love her.

Assuming Yuki returned my feelings, of course.

I splashed cold water on my face to wake me up before I went downstairs to eat some breakfast. I’d always started my day with a hearty breakfast, but lately I’d been waking up ravenous. My stomach would rumble like I hadn’t eaten in weeks like I hadn’t in fact eaten a meal for four only ten hours earlier.

I threw four frozen waffles into the toaster and started the coffee machine. I picked at some cookies while I waited. It seemed like only a short while ago, two waffles would be more than enough to hold me over until lunch. But of course, I now needed at least five. I could probably eat eight if I really put my mind to it.

I loaded up my coffee with flavored creamer and sat down with my syrup and waffles. As I stuffed my face, I thought about the upcoming holiday. I had my last week of work and then my parents would be flying in for Christmas.

I also had the annual Christmas party for work to attend. It wasn’t mandatory, but it would look bad if I didn’t show up, seeing as it was my first year working as an exec.

It was black tie, and so I’d had to order a new tux for the occasion. I was debating asking Yuki to accompany me. My secretary, Denise, said that most people bring a date. A spouse, a fiancé, a fling…

I had none of the above, but I did have a Yuki.

Would that be weird? Would Yuki even want to go? Moreover, Yuki didn’t have any formal clothes. I’d have to take her shopping. It sounded like a chore, but then the more I thought about it, I realized seeing Yuki try on clothes might be sort of fun. She’d surely look stunning in anything she wore…

I put away my dishes and got dressed. Yuki slithered out from under my bed while I was tying my tie.

“Leaving?” She asked. I nodded. “I’ll miss you!” Yuki clung to my middle and nuzzled my chest. I could feel myself blushing.

“I’ll miss you too. Be good,” I said, petting her hair. She purred lethargically.

“Always good,” she mumbled.

“I know you are.”

I didn’t bring up the Christmas party until I got home that night. Yuki was finishing off a big pan of shrimp Alfredo that smelled absolutely delicious. She put the fettuccine into a pot of boiling water, tail swaying from side to side as she did. She always cooked barefoot, tiny gray-ish feet padding around the kitchen tiles as she stirred and chopped.

“Hey Yuki,” I said.

“Mmm?”

“How would you feel about going somewhere with me? For my work.”

Yuki tilted her head, considering. “Go somewhere?” she echoed. “I’ve never been to Peter’s work.”

I smiled. “I know. Ah, well, it’s a work party. So it isn’t actually the place I really work at. But most of the people there will bring someone. I thought, maybe, if you wanted to, I could bring…you,” I said lamely. I felt like a goddamn middle schooler, stuttering trying to ask out some girl.

But Yuki just lit right up. Her face brightened into a pleased and slightly surprised smile, and she hopped a little in place, clapping her hands together.

“Peter wants me to go with him! Of course I’ll go! Any place with Peter there will be the best place for Yuki to be,” she said with a feverish smile. She even ran over to where I was sitting at the kitchen bar to hug my arm to her chest.

“I’m glad,” I said, putting my arm around her instead and pulling her into a proper hug. “We’ll have to get you a nice dress to wear. It’s kind of fancy,” I said.

Yuki lifted her head super fast at that, and I dodged blindness by horn-point.

“I get to wear a dress?!” she whisper-yelled.

“You sure do,” I said.

“EEEE!”

It turned out that getting Yuki a dress wasn’t actually too hard. I recalled how Yuki used to be scared at when we went out in public at first, as she was naturally a bit flighty and nervous, but over time, she began to love being around other people.

The sales attendant that helped Yuki pick out her dress (she ended up choosing a gorgeous midnight blue number, floor-length with silver accents) chatted Yuki up and I could tell, Yuki liked the attention. It helped that everything she tried on looked gorgeous on her. Even without her demon features, she was a knockout.

Apparently Yuki was a winter undertone so cool colors will compliment best… I didn’t know what any of that meant, so I just nodded along and swiped my card to pay for it and carried the garment bag to the car.

The day of the party, I decided to step on the scale for the first time in a while. It wasn’t like I was avoiding it, but I had been sort of enjoying the mystery of not having my weight gain confirmed. It was nice to think I might still be somewhere around 280.

When the scale said 303, I bit my lip. Well, I supposed I’d maybe been underestimating just how many extra calories I’d been eating every day. How could I have put on another 20 pounds without hardly noticing? Sure it was the holiday season so everyone was gaining a bit of winter fluff, but this was putting my gain at over 50 lbs in just 6 months. That seemed… substantial.

I decided not to think too hard about it, and just started getting dressed instead. My new was loose actually, which was good. With the way I was going, it probably wouldn’t be loose on me for long.

Meanwhile, Yuki was nearly bouncing off the walls with excitement as she got ready.

She looked stunning. She’d even curled her hair with the new curling iron we’d picked up, so her black hair fell in silky spirals on her back.

The saleswoman at the dress shop must’ve been onto something because Yuki’s pale skin looked fantastic against the deep blue tones of her dress. And even though I missed her purple eyes, she was still a sight to behold in her human guise.

“What do you think?” Yuki asked, giving me a little twirl. And was I imagining it, or were her cheeks looking a little pink?

“You look absolutely beautiful, Yuki,” I said.

Yuki’s face lit up and she swayed on her feet a little from the compliment. It was so cute how flustered she got sometimes.

“I think Peter looks the most beautiful,” Yuki muttered. She was definitely blushing now, but so was I.

So I just held out my arm. “Let’s go.”

Everyone at the party thought Yuki was my girlfriend. Maybe I should’ve foreseen this and prepared for it, but for some reason it hadn’t even occurred to me. Stupid.

“Oh my, I didn’t realize Peter had a partner, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“And who might you be? Peter never mentioned having such a beautiful girlfriend.”

It just went on and on like that with every acquaintance I came across. I didn’t correct anyone, because me having Yuki as a girlfriend was much more believable than the truth.

Yuki, for her part, did extremely well. She didn’t talk much, but that was mostly because she was still pretty shy around big groups. She only replied to direct questions, or said “Nice to meet you as well,” and she didn’t let go of my hand the whole time.

Meanwhile, everyone we passed couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off of her. I didn’t blame them, she was radiant. If only they knew how much more beautiful she was in her true form… Still, the attention was a bit much. Men’s eyes followed her around the room. I imagined them wondering to themselves how I was able to find someone as gorgeous as Yuki looking how I did. For some reason, their jealousy was turning me on. I felt sort of like an asshole for thinking it, but I was oddly pleased at the amount of attention Yuki was receiving. There was something so hot about having the most attractive person in a room, when they only have eyes for you.

If only Yuki really felt that way about me.

“How are you feeling? So far so good?” I whispered to Yuki as we finally made our way to our table for dinner.

“Mhm!” Yuki nodded her head enthusiastically. “Everybody is so nice. I feel so energized from all of the envy and greed here. Very lush,” she said with a tiny giggle.

“Envy and greed huh… I suppose that is the world of business,” I acknowledged with a laugh.

We found our table pretty easily; we were sitting with a few executives I liked and their spouses. I was relieved that Carl wasn’t sitting near me. That man was insufferable.

We got our champagne and listened to our CEO give a brief speak before we cheers-ed. Yuki had never tried alcohol before, so I told her to just take a tiny sip or not drink it at all.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as she sniffed the glass, made a face, and then pushed it into my hand.

One of my colleague’s wives noticed and said, “Don’t like it?” When Yuki shook her head, she said, “I never used to either. It’s an acquired taste.”

“I don’t think that is a taste I will be acquiring, ma’am,” Yuki said with a worried expression. The woman laughed.

“Oh my, you’re such a sweetie!”

I was inclined to agree.

After a few minutes, they started bringing food out, and I was relieved. Even though I’d hit the appetizer tables a little hard, that fancy finger food hadn’t done much to stave off my hunger. I was starving.

As had become our routine, I ate my food while Yuki covertly magicked her own food on my plate. Over the course of the dinner, I ate two helpings of salad, soup, porterhouse steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, and finished off with two big slices of cake. I was feeling pretty stuffed and drowsy after so much rich food. Yuki seemed worn out as well, since I knew that keeping up her human appearance was tiring, and socializing with so many people was out of her comfort zone. We decided we would have a photo taken of us in front of the gorgeous holiday display and then leave early. The photographer had a short line, so we made our way over there to get that done before we planned to slip out of the party.

Yuki slipped her small arm around my middle and squeezed at the flesh there.

“Thank you for bringing me,” she purred, tucking herself into my side.

“Of course, Yuki. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

Her hands rubbed my swollen sides.

“I love Peter. Peter’s the best. Always… always so nice to me,” Yuki murmured sleepily. I instantly froze. Yuki… Yuki said what? She… loved me?

“Next!” the photographer called, and oh my god that was us. Of course it would be. Of course I wouldn’t be able to talk to her about what she’d just said.

Yuki pulled away and we positioned ourselves where we were directed.

“Now smile on three. One, two, three!”

Flash.

I started walking in a daze. It felt like time had stopped the minute I’d heard Yuki say she loved me. Did she actually say that? Was I projecting? Memory is fallible so it was hard to say…

“And then, when the picture comes in, can we put it on the fireplace? In a nice frame. Because we have so many nice pictures on there already, but none of them have me in them, so I was thinking, maybe you would like it if there was one of us on there. Do you think we can do that? Please?” Yuki rambled as we walked towards the doors.

I tried to focus back on what she was saying. “Sure, I’d like that,” I said quickly.

“Yay! I’m so excited to see it,” she chirped.

We were almost to the exit of the venue when I heard someone call my name.

“Peter, leaving so soon?”

Carl Wellington, the man I’d successfully avoided all night (until now, that is) was walking towards us.

I was instantly irritated. Yuki stiffened next to me. I glanced over at her, and the look on her face… it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Even without the horns or anything, she looked… menacing.

A low, rumbly growl started emanating from her chest as Carl walked closer.

“What..?” I began to say, but then Carl started speaking.

“Oh my.” He genuinely looked surprised as he glanced between Yuki and myself. After a moment, a look of realization dawned on his face. “Ol’ Saint Pete has himself a demon? Now that is unexpected,” Carl said, and I could see something far more evil showing in his face than I ever had before. His eyes looked… void of any humanity altogether. His pupils were dilated and cruel.

“A d-demon?” I echoed dumbly.

Yuki growled louder, even going so far as to put her arm in front of me and taking a step forward. The shadows in the room suddenly seemed darker. I swear I saw Yuki’s human guise flickering in and out, but any time I noticed purple eyes or horns or shark teeth, they were gone in the next moment.

“Stay away from him,” Yuki snarled, and her voice sounded horrible. Her growl had turned into more of a hiss. The sound made me feel a chill down my spine. I felt goosebumps rising on my arms. I glanced around, all the sudden nervous about someone witnessing this altercation, but luckily the hall was empty aside from us.

“I didn’t realized another of us had already claimed you, Peter.”

Wait, had he said another one of us?

Carl’s eyes lingered on Yuki. “She is lovely. And very attached, I see.” His gaze bounced between Yuki and I with an intelligent glint that I absolutely hated. “Well, that does explain your good fortune. But my, how interesting. I’m oh so glad I was able to run into you both. This has been very informative. Have a pleasant night you two,” Carl said with thick condescension, and then he turned on his heel and walked away.

I watched, shocked and bewildered by the entire conversation, as Carl disappeared back into the main banquet room.

Beside me, Yuki was no longer growling. In fact, she was shaking. I watched as her eyes welled with tears.

“Yuki, it’s okay. Come on, he’s gone. We need to get out of here, let’s go,” I said.

Yuki slumped like a deflated ballon and let herself be led outside and to the parking lot.

My mind was reeling as I buckled her into the front seat of my car. I’d never seen Yuki so hostile before. And what in the world was my colleague? Was he a demon too?

Yuki made a pitiful, whining sort of sound, like a wounded dog, as I put the car into gear and started driving.

I reached over and put my free hand on her thigh, rubbing soothing circles into her skin with my thumb.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” I said gently. I had to keep it together, since clearly whatever Carl was, Yuki was afraid of it.

“S-Sorry,” Yuki mumbled after a few minutes of silence. I looked at her before quickly shifting my gaze back to the road.

“For what?”

“Was s’posed to protect Peter, but I got scared,” she sniffled. “Bad Yuki.”

“Huh?!” My face twisted in confusion. “Yuki, you did protect me. You were marvelous. A bit scary, honestly, but amazing nonetheless. I was the one who was helpless back there.”

Yuki pursed her lips like she didn’t agree.

“What was that anyway? Is Carl… a demon too?” I asked hesitantly. I mean, it wouldn’t be so hard to believe. Carl certainly acted devilish at times.

Yuki shook her head before leaning over the console to put her forehead against my bicep.

“Not a demon. But he’s being possessed by one,” she mumbled.

My eyebrows shot up. That sounded worse for some reason.

“He’s… possessed?”

“Mhm,” Yuki mumbled. “Not by a very strong demon, though. Just a demon of greed. It’s clinging to the man’s soul, using his body,” Yuki said quietly.

I tried to pretend that this wasn’t the most horrifying thing I’d ever heard.

Jesus. How many people in the world had demons attached to them right now? How many do I see everyday without ever knowing? How many were as good as Yuki? Probably not many.

That wasn’t terrifying or anything.

“If he’s possessed,” I considered for a second, “is there something we can do to get the real Carl back?” I asked.

Yuki hummed, thinking. “Demons like that can’t possess just anyone. The person has to let them in,” Yuki said. “It’s not like in the movies. It was probably able to take over because Carl wanted whatever it is that the demon was offering.”

“A deal,” I said, remembering a very young Yuki in my basement, desperate for one hair off of my head in exchange for her protection. I wondered what Carl had wanted badly enough to make a deal like that, but then I didn’t really want to think about Carl’s possession anymore.

When Yuki changed the subject, I was grateful.

“Those kinds of us aren’t usually very strong. I guess I froze up back there because…” Yuki sighed heavily. “I was still scared like how I used to be b-before. Before I met Peter. I forgot that I’m stronger now.”

I pondered that for a second before speaking. “You thought it’d be like it was when you were with your siblings?” I guessed.

Yuki whined in confirmation.

“It won’t ever be like that again, do you hear me?” I told her. “Because I have the best demon, don’t I?” Warmth bled into my tone as I spoke. “I have the smartest, sweetest, most incredible demon in the world. And no one is better than you, Yuki. No one.”

Yuki sniffled before smiling a little. “You mean it?” she asked.

“Of course I do.”

Yuki didn’t say anything for a while, so I risked a glance over at her and oh god, she was giving me that look. The one that melted my heart like candle wax. The devoted, worshiping, loving, look. Damnit.

The car felt too stuffy all off the sudden, but we were nearly home already, so I only had to bear it for a few more minutes before we were pulling into the garage.

Except that tight feeling in my chest didn’t ease once we got inside the house. No, it was getting strong and stronger every second.

It was like my body could’t contain all of the emotions I felt for Yuki. They were spilling out, bubbling over like a pot left unattended.

I made myself act normal despite the storm brewing in my head.

Yuki and I were both tired from the party, and worn out from the confrontation with another demon (I had yet to fully process that to be honest) and our conversation in the car.

We headed up to our bedroom to get ready for bed. I started to untie my tie, but I kept messing it up with my shaky hands.

“Here, let me,” Yuki said quietly. Her hands gently pushed mine aside and she started to slowly undo the knot. Then she started unbuttoning my shirt. She was looking at me demurely, shyly, peeking up at me from beneath her lashes, slowly undoing each button one at a time.

We were standing very close to each other. I looked down at her since she was shorter.

Then, and all at once I blurted out what I’d been wanting to ask all night, “Let me see your real face.”

Yuki looked up at me in surprise. But whatever expression she saw in my face seemed to reassure her, and after a second, her human disguise melted away.

I was looking down at my beautiful demon, my scary gorgeous, sweet demon. Her purple eyes glittered in the soft light from the bedside lamp. Her razor-sharp teeth shone as she smiled up at me. Her glossy black horns framed her face, and her tail poked its way out of her dress to caress my ankle.

I loved her so much it ached.

I was about to do something I might later regret. But, in that moment, there was nothing I could do about it. It felt like if I let that moment pass, I was sure that I would miss my chance forever.

So I leaned down.

Yuki caught on to what I was doing and met me halfway. Our lips met in the middle, and it was everything I had wanted for so long. I was instantly groaning and grabbing at her shoulders to mesh our lips together more deeply.

Yuki purred, and I could feel it in my own chest, since she was pressed against me. Her hands wound around my waist, fondling and squeezing at the rolls on my sides. It felt so good, so incredibly good.

I opened my mouth for more, and Yuki did the same, our tongues swirling together. I felt the edge of one of her teeth brush lightly against my tongue, and I swear something about the threat of getting nicked by one of those sharp things was just making me burn even hotter.

Eventually, I moved to kissing Yuki’s neck. She was moaning softly and chanting my name as I kissed every part of her I could reach.

“Peter Peter Peter Peter…”

Yuki’s tail was moving up my right leg, squeezing and un-squeezing around my calf. It should have been weird, but it was just another sensation adding to my arousal.

I pulled back, loving how wrecked Yuki looked. Eyes glassy, cheeks flushed even through her natural ashen skin.

“Yuki, about earlier,” I started to say, but then I felt nervous. She was still clinging to me, looking up at me like I was her world. “You said something. Back when we were about to have our photo taken….Uhm, you said you loved me,” I said, voice a little uneven. “What-what did you mean by that?”

Yuki blinked slowly. Her purr came back in full force and she leaned her head into my chubby chest to nuzzle at me.

“I said I love Peter! And I do, I love you Peter. Peter finally kissed Yuki!” she muttered excitedly, the words still clear though slightly muffled by my chest. “I’m so happy,” she sighed.

I felt like I was on cloud nine.

“You really do?” I asked, slightly amazed.

“Mmmm, yes!” She sprang her head back up with a slightly feral grin on her face. “Does this mean Peter wants to be with me?”

I swear my heart nearly burst with how much I loved her just then. She was so freaking cute I could just squeeze her to death.

But my logical head chimed in to dim my high before I got too carried away.

“Only if you wantthat Yuki. Remember, you get to choose now. You always have a choice with me. If you don’t want to be with me like that, that’s fine. I’ll still be your Peter. You don’t have to be mine in that way if you don’t want to.”

I tried to make myself sound objective, like Yuki wouldn’t be crushing my hopes and dreams by saying no. If that was what she wanted, that would be what she’d get. I would just have to bear it. She needed to choose me.

No matter my own feelings, I didn’t want her that way if it wasn’t by her own choice.

Yuki pouted adorably. “But that’s all I want! Yuki wants to be Peter’s in every way,” she said, sounding petulant.

God, she really was precious, wasn’t she?

“You do? You want to be my partner? Romantically?” I needed clarification like I needed oxygen. Yuki looked a little fed up, rolling her eyes like I was just being stupid on purpose.

“Yes! Yuki already belongs to Peter. I want Peter to belong to me too!” she said, and her voice shaky with excitement. Her eyes were a little teary, but her smile could light up the darkest of rooms.

Overcome with emotion, I kissed her again, softly this time.

“I’m yours,” I whispered against her mouth.

Yuki and I slept together (literally—we just slept, nothing else! Get your head out of the gutter) that night and I woke up to her sleeping half on top of me. Her tail had wrapped its way around my ankle and her hair was in my mouth and her chest was rumbling with a contented purr that made my own heart pitter patter.

Typically, I didn’t linger in bed. I liked to get up, take a nice long morning shower, and then eat breakfast, since I usually woke up ravenous these days. But today, I let myself laze around in bed, enjoying the feeling of holding Yuki close.

When Yuki woke up, she lifted her head and blinked dazedly for a few seconds before hugging me in a crushing grip.

“Ah,” I gasped, “good… morning,” I huffed, getting the words out as best I could with a demon clinging onto my midsection. Her little arms dug into the ample flesh around my waist, and after a second, she relented her grip in order to kneed my softness. It felt so nice.

“Mmmm, waking up next to Peter… It is a good morning,” Yuki said cheekily.

I blushed, flustered at Yuki’s flirty tone.

Before I could reply, my stomach growled audibly.

Yuki popped up immediately at that, and I admired her morning face, puffy from sleep with lines from her pillowcase on her cheek.

“Peter’s hungry!” she exclaimed, wide-eyed. “I’ll go make something!” Yuki hopped off the bed, tail wagging behind her as she hurried out of the room and down the stairs. I blinked at the empty space in the bed.

Well, I supposed I should get into the shower. Yuki would probably have something cooked up by the time I got out. I shuffled to the bathroom with more of a kick in my step than usual.

When I got in and soaped up my body, I found myself whistling to myself.

I wasn’t put off by how jiggly I felt as I washed my belly, still riding high from my confession last night and Yuki’s eager reciprocation.

After I got dressed, I followed the tantalizing smell of vanilla and cinnamon and went downstairs. Yuki was frying up some French toast and god did it smell amazing.

“Here!” She shoved a plate stacked high with about for pieces of thick, brioche bread, which I then smothered in syrup and powdered sugar.

I groaned at the taste. It was perfect, not overly sweet, gooey but not soggy. I inhaled my first plate and Yuki quickly served me up another. I sipped coffee with lots of creamer in between bites. Per usual, I overate. After possibly 12 slices, I felt full. My stomach was bloated up, and I rested a hand on the top where it jutted out from under my chest. But I kept going past common sense. It was getting easier and easier to eat past my limits every day, and Yuki was only making it easier by cooking up so much tempting food.

I sighed heavily past my fullness and tucked into another helping. It was getting harder to swallow, each bite weighing heavily, like a cement block in my stomach.

Yuki took her usual place on my lap and started rubbing on my swollen, aching stomach. Only today, she started kissing and licking on my neck as I ate. If it was meant as a distraction, it surely worked, since I absentmindedly shoved more food into my mouth, focusing only on the hot lips and tongue loving on my neck.

By the time I cleared that plate I felt sweaty and vaguely sick. Even Yuki’s hands weren’t soothing the stretched out skin on my belly. Even my loose cotton t-shirt felt too constricting, so I pulled it up over my belly, letting the cool air hit my poor skin.

“Poor Peter, you ate too much,” Yuki cooed, and I watched, breathing harder than an athlete, and she slid down to her knees in front of me. I spread my legs and she glanced up at me from beneath her lashes. Her purple eyes were shining with a different sort of look than I was used to. It was a devious look, surely, but also tender.

She watched me and kissed my poor abused belly before reaching underneath it to fiddle with the waistband of my sweatpants.

“Yuki,” I tried to say, not wanting her to feel obligated to go any further than kissing, but she didn’t listen.

She kissed my belly again, open mouthed. “Need you,” she breathed.

I swear, my eyes probably rolled back at that comment, with how needy and sweet and sexy she was being. So I let her shimmy my waistband down and tuck me into her mouth.

Oh god.

Yuki… Her mouth was so hot, and her hands kept rubbing on the sides of my belly, and her tail was rubbing up against my shin, up and down.

I reached down over my swollen gut, carefully as to not jostle it too much, and ran my hands through her hair. It was so soft.

Jesus. Somehow my hands found themselves using her horns like handlebars, and holy god was that doing something to me.

Yuki hummed her encouragement as I started tugging her mouth to and fro.

I came with a grunt, and Yuki just swallowed me down. I swear I saw white. I’d never come that hard in my life.

“Yuki…” I muttered once my breathing returned to normal.

“Love Peter,” she said, nuzzling her face into my belly. She was purring again, loudly.

“I love Yuki,” I said, giving her head another loving pat.

As it turns out, dating your own personal demon was very different than just living with your demon. It was so much better.

Yuki didn’t sleep under my bed anymore. I got to cuddle her all night. Or actually, Yuki usually cuddled me. She would wrap herself around me from behind, clinging from head to tail, all night long. It was a little strange at first to shift in the night and feel a tail groping you, but as most things about Yuki were strange, I loved it anyway.

I’d had girlfriends before, but I’d never had a serious relationship. Most of my experience with dating were superficial college flings. Being with Yuki was drastically different. It made me feel like a novice to relationships. Yuki brought out feelings in me I didn’t even know I could have. Yuki was it for me.

There was a part of me that wondered if this was wrong. Yuki wasn’t human, so was this some kind of cross-species relationship?

But Yuki reassured me that humans and demons have had relationships for as long as humans have been around, and it wasn’t and odd as it maybe seemed.

The timing of this new relationship development was… unfortunate.

We had only a few days of bliss exploring this new romantic side to our relationship, until it was Christmas Eve’s Eve.

My parents decided to come to me for Christmas this year, so they came in early that morning and I picked them up from the airport.

But the upside was that I could finally tell my parents that me and Yuki were together. Officially.

“Oh thank GOD!” my mom said with a dramatic sigh when I broke the news. “What took so long?”

Yuki giggled and put her arms around me.

“Peter didn’t wanna take advantage of me,” Yuki said, giving me a soft look. I felt myself blush.

“Oh, I really did raise such a sweet boy, didn’t I?” My mom pinched my cheeks like I was five.

“Get off,” I demanded half-heartedly, "and dad don’t laugh, you’re egging her on!” I said, affronted.

Everyone laughed.

It was safe to say my parents were supportive. They loved Yuki. Who wouldn’t? She was perfect.

My mom had even surprised Yuki with her very own stocking. It was family tradition that everyone has handmade stocking with their name on it. We’d even made them for our pets growing up. My mom had written Yuki’s name out with a silver glitter pen on a red stocking. My mom even went all out and drew some cute little snowflakes on it.

Yuki started tearing up when she saw it hanging on the mantle along side everyone else’s.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, even though I knew they were happy tears.

“I f-feel so happy!” she said tentatively.

I hugged her close. “I’m happy too,” I said, and I kissed the top of her head.

Opening presents on Christmas morning didn’t take long since my parents and I had a rule of only one gift per person. This meant that gifts were typically more sentimental or based on experiences rather than purely materialistic.

I liked this better anyway, since I really didn’t need more junk around my house.

But a part of me felt bad since it was Yuki’s first human Christmas. I knew she would be happy opening a few small gifts, but it was difficult not to go all out and spoil her rotten. I justified it by promising myself that. I would just spoil her the rest of the year to make up for it.

My parents got Yuki and I tickets to go on an Alaskan cruise next summer, which was very generous of them. Yuki looked curious, but when I explained what a cruise was, she got excited.

I got my dad a voucher for golfing lessons and I enrolled my mom in an advanced French cooking class.

I was surprised when Yuki handed me a poorly wrapped lump. For some reason I hadn’t been expecting her to get me anything. I’d signed both of our names of my gifts for my parents, knowing that she wouldn’t know what to buy someone as a present. But the fact that she’d somehow gotten me something without my even knowing was so… sweet.

I loved her so much, it was ridiculous.

I opened the wrapping paper and instantly let out a pleased laugh.

It was the picture of us from my work party, placed in an elegant wooden picture frame. How had she even gotten this printed so fast? I wondered briefly if she’d used her magic on it, but then decided it didn’t even matter. The photo had turned out beautifully. It was us standing in front of a gorgeous staircase, decorated with garland and lights. Yuki looked so stunning, with a big beaming smile on her face. I stood slightly behind her with one arm around her waist. You could tell how happy I looked in the picture. I didn’t even look particularly handsome, not when standing next to someone like Yuki anyway, but there was something radiant about my expression that made the photo so special.

“Okay, this is going on the fireplace right now,” I said, throat thick with emotion, and Yuki squealed with excitement. When I had it set where I wanted it, the picture looked like it belonged there.

“Last one,” my mom said, reaching for one last tiny box from under the tree.

She handed it to Yuki.

“To Yuki from Peter,” Yuki said aloud. She looked up at me and smiled.

I hoped she liked it.

“Oh my!” she said when she opened the box. The amethyst necklace was very pretty, a big sparkly gem on a silver chain. It was almost the exact color of her eyes, her real ones.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

Yuki’s eyes teared up, and I wished they were her eyes right now, but they were just mundane brown ones. “I love it!” And she tackled me in a huge hug.

With the holiday came a lot more eating. Well, more eating than normal, I should say. I had gotten used to Yuki over feeding me, but of course, she went above and beyond for Christmas. She and my mom cooked up a storm in my kitchen (which was for all intents and purposes, Yuki’s kitchen). I had to eat double meals of course, and Yuki didn’t go easy on me. She loaded up her plate with massive amounts of food and got seconds.

“Where does she put it?” my dad asked as he watched Yuki refill her dinner plate. She knew what I liked, so her dish mostly consisted of potatoes and meat, as I didn’t really like veggies or casserole as much.

I looked at my own swollen stomach, which was brushing up against the table even though I was leaning back and stifled a groan. I knew exactly where she was putting it.

I was relieved my parents decided not to mention my eating habits or climbing weight. I overheard my mom mention to Yuki that she must have been ‘treating me well.’ If only she knew the half of it.

My parents had to fly home a few days after the holiday, so I had the rest of my break from work to relax alone with Yuki.

I swear during the days between Christmas and New Year’s, I don’t think there was a moment where I didn’t have some kind of food in front of me that Yuki expected me to eat. Except maybe when I was asleep. I felt hugely swollen and lazy, barely getting up from the couch the whole time. I could tell I had put on weight just by the way my back started to hurt when I stood up, and by how many new stretch marks appeared on my belly.

And with this time off, Yuki and I took advantage of our empty house.

I hadn’t exactly known what to expect when it came to our sexual relationship. I mean, my girlfriend had a tail for god’s sake.

But it was mostly sweet and romantic, if a little weird. That was just Yuki’s personality though. She’d kiss me and tell me she loved me and chant my name, but also she’d bite me with her shark teeth and tie my hands together with her tail.

I don’t know if all demons were insatiable when it comes to sex, or if that was just Yuki, but she seemed to be able to go on and on with no refractory period whatsoever. I’d have to tap out from pure exhaustion and she would still be rearing to go.

And Yuki’s general submissive personality manifested in a very interesting way in the bedroom. I got used to Yuki on her knees begging for me, catering to my every whim, sometimes before I could even think to ask. She’d always be offering whatever I wanted. At first I was hesitant, thinking maybe she just wanted to please me for some demon/master-related reason or something. But as it turned out, Yuki just loved giving pleasure.

Part of the pleasure was food. Yuki kept me even more well fed after we got together than she had been before. I quickly got used to eating a big meal, getting absolutely stuffed full until my belly ached, only for Yuki to slide down onto the floor to suck me off while I digested. I loved it so much.

I would sometimes grab her horns in my hands and she’d just open her mouth for me and I could just buck right into her mouth— And when she started purring when I was inside… oh good god.

Ahem. Anyway.

I was so so spoiled. Yuki ruined me for anyone else.

I had to go back to work eventually, but even then our relationship continued to strengthen. I avoided Carl at work, which seemed to suit him fine. I’d noticed that he looked rather sickly lately, which hit me with a strange pang of pity. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it anyhow.

I’d been spending more time with our CEO Seth, which made it easier to avoid Carl anyhow. Seth seemed to have taken a liking to me, which was flattering. I hoped that meant good things for my future in the company.

Time passed. Winter turned to spring and Yuki and I fell deeper and deeper in love.

In May, Yuki was getting bored around the house, and I suggested she should try out a hobby since she’d gotten very good at blending in with humans. After a few days of researching (Googling), we ended up signing her up for adult-only beginners dance class.

The first day, Yuki was visibly nervous. She was holding the little dance bag which contained her leather dance shoes close to her chest the whole drive over, bouncing her knees, all jitters. I found a place to park and decided she probably needed a pep talk. This would be her first time around other people without me.

“Yuki,” I said, pivoting in my seat to look at her. My gut was pushing up into the steering wheel from that angle, but I ignored it.

Yuki looked at me with puppy eyes.

“This is for fun, remember? If you decide you don’t like it, you can always pick something else,” I said. Yuki nodded. She’d been deciding between dance and pottery, but she thought dancing would be more fun since she wanted to get better at balance when she was in her human form. (The missing tail did tend to make her little wobbly).

“Okay,” Yuki said, giving a brave smile though her anxiety was still showing in her face.

“And you know,” I said, reaching over to grab Yuki’s hand in mine, “they’re going to absolutely love you. And if they don’t then they must be idiots.” I relished in how Yuki’s pale face blushed furiously at my praise. “Knock ‘em dead, baby.”

“Mhm!”

I walked her inside, where Yuki was greeted with several women of varying ages. They all seemed pleasant and welcoming, so I left feeling pretty good about the whole thing.

I had an hour to kill before her class finished up, so I decided to take a walk. I probably could use some exercise, I thought to myself. I still wasn’t really used to my recent weight gain, and I was sure that the amount I weighed now was surely higher than it had been even just a few months ago. I started down the block, but I only got about 12 feet away when I saw what was next to the dance studio.

A casual restaurant that sold street tacos. Well, I had to check that out, obviously.

After Yuki’s first day at dance class, I was was always full of tacos by the time Yuki got out. As it turned out, Yuki really liked to dance, and she loved the friends she made from the class. She’d barrel out of the studio every week with a big grin on her face, looking sweaty and flustered from all of the dancing. But even on those nights, Yuki still insisted on making dinner for me when we got home. So apparently I was eating two dinners these days, if you counted the six or so tacos I ate while Yuki twirled around…

This trend also continued at work. I’d stay late working on some project or another and realize that lunch was a pretty long time ago and really, I’d be much more productive if my stomach wasn’t growling, and I’d end up ordering more takeout to eat. Only then to come home to Yuki’s homemade spread. It was like my body had gotten accustomed to eating between 4:30 and 5:00 PM from all of the dance-class-taco-eating, so when I didn’t have something to snack on, my stomach would start rumbling like mad.

And yes this was probably gluttonous or greedy of me, but I sort of enjoyed the excess of it all. I wasn’t eating because I was hungry at that point. Oftentimes, I’d eat myself into a stomach ache.

But it was addicting to eat so much. For the past year and a half I’d been overeating past fullness, but having four large meals a day felt like a different level. And my body was showing it.

By the time summer rolled around, I was up a few more clothes sizes, and my gains weren’t slowing at all. I had gotten used to the two dinners now, and it was becoming easier to eat more all the time. I supposed the stomach was a muscle, wasn’t it? By that logic, I must have been some kind of athlete, stretching it out so I could eat even more.

One day, I decided to figure out how much ‘relationship weight’ I’d put on since the new year. I got out of the shower, feeling fatter than usual. I’d spent a good while scrubbing my body, feeling it jiggle in places it never used to, since there seemed to be more and more flesh to clean these days.

I glanced at the bathroom scale when I stepped out and started toweling off.

Didn’t people say to weigh yourself in the morning, before you eat, to get a more accurate result? It was only 7 am, and I hadn’t yet had breakfast. I shrugged and stepped on the scale.

Except, I couldn’t actually see the number over my belly. I leaned forward.

Still nothing.

“Yuki!” I called from the bathroom. She was probably still in bed, but I knew she was awake.

“Hmm?” Yuki shuffled into the bathroom, eyes still puffy from sleep. Her hair was all tangled up around her horns and her tail was making her pajama shorts slide down awkwardly on her hip.

She looked perfect.

“Can you see what the number says?” I asked, looking down. “I’m too fat,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh.

Yuki’s purple eyes lit up.

“Oh my!” She ran over and glanced down at the scale. “It says…” she bit her lips, holding in a grin, “377!”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

Yuki giggled gleefully and then pulled my flabby body into a crushing hug.

“Peter’s so handsome! So big and soft! Perfect,” she purred, tail caressing my legs.

I sighed and petted her head a little.

“You like this, you little perv? You like me being all big and fat?” I accused her mockingly. But Yuki just nodded her head emphatically.

“Peter’s giving into his desires, it makes me so pleased,” she said with a crazed smile, and then she started nibbling at my double chin with her teeth.

“Ow, Yuki…” But I couldn’t really scold her when she looked so sweet, could I?

“God, I’m almost 400 pounds,” I realized aloud.

“Almost,” Yuki said, but the way she said it, it sounded like she was looking forward to that number…

We went on our cruise in June. Yuki had never seen the ocean before, so I was pretty excited to see her reaction once we got on the ship. Yuki was like a kid at Disney Land when she saw the darn thing. Once we boarded, we made our way to one of the high decks to see the view.

“It’s… amazing!” Yuki squealed. When she turned her head to look at me, her eyes were wet with happy tears.

I put my arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head.

The best part about cruises is that drinks and food are included. And well. Yuki and I took advantage of that.

For five days, I pretty much ate at a never ending buffet of junk. I was tipsy pretty much all day, only alternating beers and cocktails with soda or water when I was feeling a little too close to drunk. Yuki fed me insane amounts of food with her magic, and I did pretty well stuffing my face on my own too. I felt huge at the end of every day, waddling back to our room, groaning and stumbling from excess.

“Peter’s looks so pretty,” Yuki would mumble at night as she helped me get undressed. I was usually too full to help much by that point.

“Pretty, huh?” That wasn’t an adjective that I’d say really fit how I looked just then. ‘Swollen like a tick’ seemed more apt.

But Yuki insisted that I looked good stuffed to the gills, and who was I to disagree?

Nighttime was my favorite part of the cruise because in the privacy of our room, Yuki could drop her human guise. I got to look at the real Yuki as she rode me or cuddled me or kissed me.

I really was one lucky bastard.

I gained 10 pounds on the cruise.

It seemed impossible to put on two pounds a day. Part of it had to be water weight, right? But the pounds stuck. When I looked back at the amount of food I’d been consuming, it seemed very possible that I really had stuffed my face enough to accomplish that.

But it wasn’t until September that I actually hit 400. It was a small accumulation of events, eating breakfast at home followed by ‘mid-morning snacks’ at the office, huge spreads of takeout for lunch, quick dinner before I went home for the day, followed by what I was now referring to as ‘big dinner’ when I got home, followed by Yuki’s baked goods and ice cream for dessert. I was eating like a fiend.

And I really enjoyed it.

Being so hugely fat was kind of hot, if I was honest. I liked feeling so big, always having a big ol’ gut in my lap, always feeling comforted by all the weight. And Yuki clearly enjoyed it. She was constantly pushing me to eat even more, and always gave my body such loving attention and affection.

There were downsides as well. It was getting really hard to fit into my office chair at work. My sides sort of swallowed up the arms of the chair, and my stomach pushed into the desk, which wasn’t really very comfortable. I knew other people in the office were close to my size, but these days, I was one of the biggest, if not the biggest. It felt embarrassing to ask my secretary to put in an order for a new chair, but I figured this one might actually break under my weight one of these days, which would be infinitely more embarrassing. Plus, it was really hard to un-stick myself from the chair after a long day’s work.

I was putting off mentioning it, hoping magically that the chair would expand or something. The CEO, Seth, was always a bit of a portly man himself, so I didn’t feel overly ashamed when he suggested we all get newer chairs after one awkward incident when he’d stopped by my office and it had taken me several seconds of vigorous wiggling and shimmying to stand up from the stupid chair. And I was out of breath from all that moving, too.

Seth phrased the newer chairs as being ‘decorative, a new modern design to fit the culture of the office’, but when I saw the design (retractable armrests and extra-wide seats) I knew I was probably the cause for the change.

But boy did I love how the new chair didn’t groan when I sat, that I could push the armrests out of the way so my love handles could spread out in peace, and that my butt wasn’t squished so much. It didn’t change the fact that my gut pushed up against my desk when I typed at my computer but maybe I’d had my expectations too high on that front.

Yuki and I flew to Wisconsin again for Thanksgiving with my folks, and I realized with dismay that the seats on the plane were becoming a tight fit as well… I’d had to ask for a seatbelt extender. Luckily the flight attendant had been very nice about the whole thing, so I wasn’t too embarrassed. I wondered if I’d have to buy two tickets next year. Right as I thought that, Yuki started smiling and nuzzling up at my fat neck.

I knew she couldn’t actually read my mind, but at times like these, I wondered if her ability to feel my ‘desires’ almost worked just as good.

My parents didn’t bring up my weight anymore, though I was sure they noticed it. Maybe because I was with Yuki they stopped caring about how fat I was getting. I’d already found a nice girl and settled down, so who cared if I was obese, right? As long as I was happy.

And I was. Obese, that is.

Yeah, sometimes it sucked getting out of breath just walking to and from the bathroom. And going up and down the stairs at home was getting to be a pain, but I only did that twice a day. But it was worth it to be able to eat as much as I wanted. To be able to live with no abandon, without restriction.

While Yuki and I were in my hometown for the holiday, I decided to meet up with some of my old high school friends at a local bar. Yuki was a little nervous, but she perked up once the waitress dropped off the food menu.

Honestly, I was probably more nervous than her. My friends hadn’t seen me since I’d been around 150 pounds slimmer.

“Oh my god, is that you Pete?”

I lifted my head to see my old buddy Taylor absolutely gaping at me. I scooted my chair back and then hefted myself up to give him a hug. Taylor hugged me back, pressing his flat stomach against my beach ball sized one.

“Yeah, I know I’ve put on a few,” I said, blushing a little.

Taylor scoffed. “A few?”

“Ahem.” That would be Yuki, who had gotten up and was standing beside me.

Taylor glanced at her and then back at me.

“Taylor, this is my girlfriend, Yuki.”

Yuki pushed herself into my side and I wrapped my big arm over her shoulders. She put one hand on my gut, almost daring Taylor to say something about it.

“Ah, oh. Hello. Nice to meet you,” Taylor muttered.

I relished in his surprise. I almost wanted to say See? Fat guys deserve love too. And from beautiful women, no less. But seeing as Taylor just went through a nasty divorce, that might be in poor taste.

It wasn’t long before our other friend Allen showed up. The three of us caught up on current events in our lives, while Yuki kept ordering appetizers. Boneless wings, onion rings, jalapeño poppers…

Yuki and I ate most of them, which is to say, I ate most of them.

“I’m glad you’re doing so well in Colorado, man,” Allen said as I licked buffalo sauce off my fingers.

“Yeah, we were sad that you were moving, but I’m happy it all worked out for you,” Taylor added, sparing Yuki a lingering glance.

“Me too,” I said. “How’s it going with your partner, Allen?” I asked.

“Oh, he’s terrible,” Allen said with a conspiring smile. “Never marry your yoga instructor!”

After a while, I had to go to the bathroom, so I excused myself, leaving Yuki at the table with Taylor and Allen.

Bar bathrooms were never the cleanest, but I did my business as quickly as I could and then started to wash my hands. I looked up as someone entered the bathroom behind me. I could see them in the mirror. A person I hadn’t seen in at least 12 years.

Mike.

He locked eyes with my reflection but didn’t seem to recognize me at all. He walked passed the sinks like I was a stranger.

I looked at myself in the dirty mirror. Sure I had a big double chin, and maybe I was getting some wrinkles around my eyes. But I looked mostly the same, didn’t I? I glanced down and saw my huge stomach, which was not very well disguised in my almost-toot-tight black t-shirt and flannel.

I didn’t look chubby or big. I looked fat, but not even just normal fat. I looked fat fat. 400+ lbs fat.

Damn. I dried my hands and then stood to the side in the mirror, taking in just how far my belly jutted out. I reached to touch the front of my belly where it hung the lowest and found myself struggling to even reach it all. I knew logically that this wasn’t new. I wasn’t even particularly shocked or upset by the discovery of how shockingly fat I’d gotten, how I’d totally let myself go. But for some reason becoming fat enough that my old friend from middle school didn’t even recognize me? That was … surprising.

I must’ve lingered there staring at myself for a while because Mike was leaving when I turned to go. He did a double take then, staring at my eyes for a second too long before I saw him put two and two together.

“Hi Mike,” I sighed. This wouldn’t have been as embarrassing if he would’ve just recognized me from the get go. But now we both had to acknowledge awkwardly why he didn’t.

“Oh, wow Pete! It’s been… so long,” Mike said delicately, glancing at my belly. Mike looked a little out of shape himself, but it was a modest beer gut. I was in another league of fatness.

I didn’t really want to deal with awkward small talk where we avoided how much we’d changed after graduation, so I said “Yeah, I’m here with Taylor and Allen, come say hi.” I quickly ushered us both out of the men’s room and towards the table.

Mike followed me and I wondered if he was staring at my gait as I walked. I had to take wide steps since my thighs rubbed together.

“Look who I found in the bathroom!” I said as we approached the table. Yuki looked pleased to see me back, and I felt a little guilty to have left her sitting with people she hardly knew for longer than I’d intended.

“Mike! What’s up buddy, how’ve you been?” Taylor said, pulling him into a side hug. I sat back in my seat with a thud. Yuki quickly clung to me, hugging my arm like a teddy bear. I glanced up to see Mike eyeing Yuki sharply.

There was no way he’d… would he?

“You met Pete’s girlfriend yet?” Allen asked, noticing Mike staring.

“N-No,” Mike stuttered.

I swallowed a lump. “Ah, this is Yuki, Yuki this is Mike,” I said calmly. Mike wouldn’t recognize Yuki from that night. That was so long ago. And she looked so different now! Plus she was in her human form, anyhow.

But then why was I so nervous?

“Hello,” Yuki said shyly, hiding into my side a little bit.

Mike’s eyes widened a fraction. “Hi,” he said stiffly. He shook his head and then backed up. “I’d better,” he gestured to where his friends were gathered by the pool table.

“Nice seeing you,” Taylor said. Mike nodded, looked at Yuki once more, and then wandered back.

We didn’t stay long after that.

In the car, I asked Yuki what she thought of the encounter.

“I couldn’t tell much about him since he wasn’t having impure thoughts,” she mused, tapping her chin with one finger. “I remembered him though,” she said with a little grin. “His energy wasn’t as good or strong as Peter’s, even now!” And then she leaned over to place a big juicy kiss on my cheek.

I stopped worrying. Maybe Mike’s reaction could be chalked up to some deja vu from seeing her? If so, that was relatively harmless. And even if he did make the leap that she was the demon from the basement, who would believe him?

No one.

I put the whole thing out of my mind. I should probably be thankful for Mike, actually, because if I hadn’t been trying to impress him all those years ago, I would’ve never met my Yuki.

And Yuki was my everything.

Now it’s been about 5 years since Yuki reappeared in my life and I couldn’t be happier.

Eventually, as I gained more and more weight, I had to make some adjustments to my life. I moved our bedroom downstairs where the office used to be. It just wasn’t safe for me to be climbing those things anymore. I’m almost 500 lbs nowadays.

Yuki likes how big I am, and how much space I take up. She even likes it when I lay on her and squish her under my blubber. She says it feels better than soaking in a hot bathtub even! It isn’t even dangerous since Yuki doesn’t need to breathe.

Sometimes I think we should slow down on my gaining, but I’m pretty much addicted to food. If I go a few hours without a meal I get serious hunger pains. It probably sounds very spoiled, but it’s true!

I ended up asking if I could work from home sometime last year, which was approved. As I said, I think my CEO Seth has a soft spot for me. He even ended up promoting me again, as the his right hand man. He says I can work from home whenever I want so long as I still get work done.

So for the past year, my lifestyle has started to become more and more sedentary. I’m either sitting on the couch (which is feeling a little small these days. Or maybe that’s because I’m wearing a crater-sized dent in the middle of it…) or I’m working at my desk, doing meetings and reports. Yuki makes sure I have everything I need.

At night, she still purrs in happy rumbles, holding any part of me she can latch on to.

“Peter is happy,” Yuki sighed into my chest. She was leaning over my belly, fitting into whatever amount of lap I still had. I scooped another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. I was still pretty full from dinner, but I had room. And it tasted good.

“I am. Very happy,” I sighed, taking another bite. Yuki’s tail caressed my sides, slipping between rolls.

“Hey Yuki,” I said.

“Hmm?”

“Your power… you’ve made me fortunate, right?” I asked.

Yuki licked my double chin sensuously. “Mhmm.”

I sucked on my cold spoon. “But me being so, erm, wanting excess…” I mumbled through another scoop of rocky road. I didn’t really want to say a gluttonous, fat greedy pig out loud. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

Yuki sat up, her purple eyes gleaming in the low light from the TV. I loved how her black horns reflected light, like obsidian.

“Nope,” she popped the P. “That’s all Peter. Yuki only wanted Peter to get what he wants,” Yuki said, running a hand through my swollen chest (I loathed admitting I had moobs).

“Does it matter either way?” Yuki asked after a second.

I thought about it. Took another bite.

“No, I guess it doesn’t.”

I used to wonder if I would’ve ended up this way without someone like Yuki to encourage me to live authentically, but I supposed that wasn’t important. I had my perfect demon Yuki to love and care for, so it only made sense for Yuki to want to love and care for me too.

I scraped the bottom of the carton.

“More?” I asked. Yuki sprang up to fetch another ice cream. I smiled to myself as she raced back over to the couch.

“Here! I got you your favorite, cookie dough!” Yuki smiled at me, her big eyes warm and loving and doting. The kind of look that made my heart melt like candle wax. The look that I loved more than anything else in the world.

“You’re the best, baby,” I said, and Yuki settled back on my lap and started purring. Her tail swished back and forth in a lazy rhythm. I really did have the best demon, didn’t I?

THE END

Epilogue

Mike gathered all of his supplies. Oil, wine, water, a candle… Mike couldn’t remember the exact ritual he’d done with Pete. That was like 20 years ago, after all. But he found one online that seemed legit enough. He recited the latin words as best he could.

Mike knew that whatever had happened way back when was real. He’d had nightmares for weeks following that horrible sleep over. It ended up driving a wedge between them, since Mike unconsciously associated Pete with that terrible night.

But somehow the thing they’d done… it’d worked. The summoning or whatever. Mike saw her, that girl, the girl from the basement, she was at the bar with Pete just a few years ago. She was real. And they were… together.

Mike wanted that. He’d never felt such envy. After all, Mike had been there that night too. Should’t he get an equal cut of whatever benefits Pete got from the demon?

Wy was Mike working as a science teacher struggling to pay bills while Pete was living the corporate American dream? It just wasn’t fair.

So he’d started researching. It took a while for him to build up the nerve, and even longer to recall the exact things they’d done way back when. But now he’d finally done it. He would finally get his own demon. Maybe his would be a hot girl too, and he could date her like Pete was doing with his. That’d be nice. But Mike supposed he could settle for something a little less attractive.

For a few minutes after Mike finished the ritual, nothing happened. The silence went on and on. How annoying. He hadn’t really thought it’d work, but it still sucked that his hard work was wasted. Mike sighed, getting up from the floor and beginning to clean up.

Then, there was a rustle behind him

“Did you call for me?”

#weight gain story #male weight gain #weight gain fiction #bhm/ffa story #male weight gain story #my writing #my stories #always in your shadow

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heavyheavycream · 15 days

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PART 1 of @pokefan-fa 's huuge feederism commission!

#thank you so much for commissioning meeeee!#this was so much fun to do #i love a male weight gain story ^/////^#also thanks for being the coolest commissioner #i tried to plan it as a little book #i hope yall still like the format even though it's not webtoon like #also IT'S NOT FINISHED!#i dunno when part 2 will be finished but it's coming #bigger and better!#heavyheavycream #comic #commission #male gaining #male wg #male feedism

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bigwishes · 4 months

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Was It Something You Ate?

Devon had always had it easy, born the son of a billionaire to one of the best pharmaceutical companies in the world he never truly had to work for anything. His dad had paid his way through all of his schooling turning Fs into As with nothing but a pen and a check book. University was even easier, Devon spent a majority of his time in other countries whilst or partying, it was only when he failed every class and was barred from graduation did his dad offer to build a new research facility for the school and suddenly Devon was graduating with honours. Devon never even experienced what it was to deal with shame, as an only child both his parents showered him with praise. Even when he got drunk and crashed the family boat his parents commended his bravery in such a frightening event. Life was easy as a gay man too, his family never cared and once his dad bought Devon his own house and allowed him to hire his own help he was constantly surrounded by masculine buff men who he paid extra to walk around shirtless.

Once Devon even went as far as to give his gardener a $4000 dollar tip just to let Devon film him drinking from the hose on his hands and knees. Of course Devon leaves out the part where he threatened to fire his gardener unless he allowed himself to be filmed.

A few months ago, Devon got the worst news of his life. His dad had told him he had to work for his weekly allowance of 1 million. If he didn't then his allowance would be slashed to a pitiful $400k. He couldn't bare to live like a peasant on such a pathetic amount of money so he agreed to his dad's outrageous terms. Devon had to work 1 hour a day for 4 days each week. Like some disgusting labour mule.

Devon had been working at the head office for 3 weeks and every day he called his dad begging to quit. A man like him wasn't meant for such things.

Devon stood on the stairs in front of the massive corporate building adjusting his suit readying for another day of hard labour. He checked his watch. 11:30am. Devon let out a tired sigh as he jogged up the stairs towards the door.

His dad had told him he had to come in any time before 12pm, Monday - Thursday. Devon had been given the role of "Team Motivator" and his job was to come in and hype up the employees.

Devon's elevator arrived at his office floor, already he needed his 15 minute break for the day, looking around seeing all these unattractive people. He never understood why the poor never took their looks more seriously or why there was always a terrible odour around people like them.

Devon stood in the elevator and raised his hand above his head. He swiped his hand down slowly and inch away from his face, he narrowed his tired eyes, cocked a toothy fuck boy smile and began to walk in-between the cubicles with the swagger only a rich fuck boy could have.

"hey hey hey team, how are those numbers looking? we got the advertisements out this morning? if not make sure you get it done by lunch, hey carol what's goin on with the boys in the lab? we got that new drug ready to roll out by friday"

A few people looked up from their desks at his peacocking and parading.

Devon clapped his hands together as he got closer to his office door. "Come on Come on people!! we got work to do, lets have a great day."

Devon slipped into his office and slammed the door shut. Inside he leant his back against it and let out an exhausted heavy sigh. He had no idea how he was going to go clubbing tonight after working so hard, but a wave of pride hit him as he heard the sounds of muttering out amongst the workers, he had done his job, inspired them.

Of course in reality Devon had done nothing at all. Most of the people on his floor had been working in the office since 7am and everyone ignored his morning speech as it was the exact same rehearsed scripted speech he had been saying each morning since his first day.

Numbers weren't part of their department,

There were no advertisements due this morning,

The boys in the lab didn't have any upcoming deadline,

There was no Carol.

Devon waltzed over to his break area at the back of his office. Originally meant for small intimate meetings, Devon had decked it out with a plasma screen TV and all his streaming services. Not that he got to use it much, he only got to be in his office for 45 minutes of his working day and that really only meant he got to watch an episode of something if he was lucky. Currently he was watching a new fitness challenge show where 20 jacked dudes were pitted against each other in different fitness challenges.

Devon threw himself back on the couch in a cocky man spread and rested his hand on his crotch. Whilst he respected the fact that he couldn't jerk off in the office, it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy how his dick felt hard whilst he watched a handful of jacked men compete for money.

30 minutes into his show and Devon saw a guy in a lab coat walking past his office window. The guy was wearing a blue button down shirt that was slightly loose in the front. He let out a loud sigh and got up from his couch walking over to his office door. Devon swung the door open and called out to the man in the lab coat before gesturing him to come into his officer by curling his index finger repeatedly.

The guy in the lab coat walked into Devon's office

"shut the door behind you bro,"

The man in the lab coat shut the door and turned to Devon all confused

"What is your name man?"

"John"

"Do you know what my job here is John?"

"Ill be honest with you Devon, nobody really knows what you do here" John replied with a cheeky smirk

Devon laughed loudly whilst slapping his desk with one hand,

"Ya know man, my dad had given me the important mantis of motivating our team"

"M-mantis? do you mean mantle?" John lowered his eyebrows confused at how this guy had somehow convinced his dad to give him the biggest office in the building.

"not important. my job is to make sure the people who work at our company are the best they can be"

The thought that maybe Devon did know what he was talking about entered John's mind, he thought maybe he was trained in motivation speaking and would talk to people one on one to help them better manage their work life balance

"look buddy, I can tell, with the way that shirt of yours is sagging in the front, your shoulders not filling out giving you that hot V shape, no pec cleavage on display and that ugly as fuck white coat, you are not living your best life" Devon gestured his hands either side with a big smirk on his face like he had seen his dad do when he was talking to other business men.

The benefit of the doubt dropped out of John's mind. "Nope, this guys a fucking moron" he thought to himself.

"Devon, I appreciate the concern, but I think I'm fine"

"I'll let you in on a little secret man, if a gay stud like me doesn't want to see you on your back, you're fat.."

"WOAH, DEVON THAT IS INSANELY NOT OKAY"

"bro, I'm just trying to be the nice guy and tell you what other people won't" Devon cockily dropped down into his nice leather chair behind his desk. "ya know, my pool guy had a kid and 2 weeks after his abs started to fade and do you know what I did?"

John wanted to say something clever but it would probably go over Devon's head, or worse, if he understood it he might lose his job.

"I fired him John, I don't want some fatty in a speedo working on my pool, and I don't want fat guys working here either"

John was too caught off guard by the first part of Devon's statement

"You make your staff work in speedo's? I think that might be illegal?"

"Look, dude, don't you wanna look like me I mean, check me out. biceps hugging my shirt, shoulders pulling it apart, my chest popping out catching everyone's attention, my abs so fucking tight you can see them through my shirt. I look HOT, you look FAT Johnny"

"Okay, I'm not even chubby though? I'm 6.2 and 85kg. I'm not exactly overweight"

"Buddy you still don't get it so let me spell it out for you, a fit body is hot, a 2 pack means you are fat, no abs showing at all? you're overweight!"

John fluttered his eyes, stunned by Devon's view of the world.

"I thank you for, whatever the hell this was Devon but I have a job to actually get back to"

John began to walk out of the office before Devon called out to him, a tone of desperation in his voice.

"WAIT....can you get me a coffee, almond milk, iced, NO WHIPPED CREAM, I want a drop that weighs exactly one quarter of a gram of caramel mixed in counter clock wise with a bamboo spoon. AND NO PLASTIC OR PAPER CUPS make sure you get it put in one of those little metal ones, no lid.

"No, Devon that isn't my job"

"You work for my dad, so if you want to keep working for my dad you'll do it"

John gritted his teeth. He unfortunately couldn't call out the rich boy on any of his bullshit without risking his entire career, But maybe there was something else he could do.

A few minutes past and John returned to Devon walking out of his office.

"Ah, great timing John, I'm just leaving"

Devon snatched the coffee out of John's hand and noticed something strange. A purple swirl drifting and dispersing into the coffee.

"What's this?" Devon said raising the corner of his lip in disgust.

"oh, its purple caramel, less calories" John quickly blurted out.

All concern dropped from Devon's mind as he took a sip of his drink.

"great call man, its that kind of intimidation we want to encourage here"

John had to stop himself from slamming the palm of his hand into his forehead, clearly Devon meant initiative.

"Ya know, man you might wanna switch to this low calorie caramel I told you about, because when I take over from my dad, first thing I'll do, anyone without a six pack is being let go"

John just gritted his teeth and smiled, "great idea, I'll have to give it a try"

Devon had already left before John could finish his sentence, but John didn't care, in fact he was hoping that coffee would keep Devon away for at least a few months.

--------------

Devon stepped out of his car throwing the metal coffee cup on the back seat behind him. He didn't even bother to say goodbye to his driver and he began jogging up the stone stairs to the front door of his mansion.

As Devon jogged up the stairs he felt something strange. His ass felt heavier, tighter against his carefully tailored pants. He felt it bounce and jiggle on his way up and once he got to his front door he had to stop and massage it briefly. It hurt worse than that time he was grounded and had to fly to take a 12 hour flight in business class.

He entered his house and instantly unbuttoned his pants, after a long hard day at the office he just wanted to get his work clothes off and wash the smell of poor people out of his hair. Devon undressed himself as he walked down the hallway, throwing his clothes on the ground behind him. Someone would be by to pick them up later, he was never sure of exactly who picked up his clothes but it was someone on his staff. He walked into his elegant bathroom covered in tiles and stone work imported all the way from Italy, his bathroom alone cost more than some peoples houses, of course when he moved out and had his house built his dad forked out for all the costs so he wasn't even sure how much everything really cost.

Devon pulled his hair out from his short pony tail and let it hang down. He flexed his broad shoulders in the mirror, his perfectly defined muscles. He wasn't a bodybuilder by any means but he still had a much better body than most people he came across.

His pecs were the main attraction and he often experienced men he brought home squeezing them as he bounced them. His flowing locks drove men wild, being a billionaire helped to prevent any thinning so often the men he slept with were not only turned on by his angelic looks but there was also a hint of jealousy when they ran their hands through his hair, which did nothing but turn Devon on more.

But something was different about him today, his abs were wrong. Normally a beautiful and cut six pack but now he was only seeing 4, and barely 4.

He felt his stomach, the bottom towards his pelvis felt like it was sticking out, ever so slightly.

"oh well, probably bloated from the caramel" he thought to himself

Devon pressed a button on the wall and instantly the water began to flow at the perfect temperature, no need to wait or pathetically dangle his hand in the water like a peasant, he just pressed a button and stepped in. As he went to step in the shower something else caught his eye, something behind him.

"Was my ass always this big?" he asked himself allowed.

Reaching down he grabbed handful of his own ass, it was still firm but it wasn't as hard as stone like he was used to, there was a new squeeze to it, like trying to work with cold clay. Devon took his finger and placed it under his ass cheek, flicking upwards he watched as his whole ass rippled and bounced more than he was used to.

*sigh* "maybe I'll only train legs once a week for a bit, don't want anyone thinking I'm a bottom"

Devon stepped into the water, instantly he felt relaxed as the warm water washed over his face and ran down his body. He squeezed out a decent amount of his tropical scented soap into the palm of his hand and began to work it over his entire body. Washing himself but also taking the time to feel himself. He got hard as he pictured his own perfection, his own brilliance.

Using the lotion he worked his way down to his pelvis, and then to his dick. Devon closed his eyes and bit his lip as he faced into the water, using both hands to rub and pleasure his 12 inches. He couldn't help it, he loved himself so much, he loved his body. He often fantasied about cloning himself just so he could have the experience so many others had been graced with, sleeping with the perfect man.

Devon moaned feeling the water on his lips and the pleasure he brought to himself. He was so close but something started to bother him. He felt hungry, which was unusual because he had such a strict diet routine and always ate at the perfect time every day. He tried to supress the feeling instead focusing on the building pleasure, but it became harder to do so the longer he lasted. The only downside to lasting an hour was it was easy for him to accidentally edge himself if he got too distracted. Unfortunately this was one of those time.

Devon's stomach let out a loud audible groan and he started to feel not just a little peckish, but he felt starved, like he had forgotten breakfast and all his morning snacks.

"uuugggh" He moaned as he let go of himself and turned his attention to finishing his shower routine.

He started pulling out small bottles from a small alcove build into the marble walls of his shower. Starting his multi-step face routine, ignoring the pain in his stomach. It was only when he started his hair routine that he all became a bit much and his stomach tenses letting out an audible grumble.

Devon's hands dropped from his hair to his stomach as he grabbed it from the hunger pains. It felt, almost plump as he rubbed it trying to soothe it. He quickly washed the conditioner out of his hair and got out of the shower.

Pressing a button on the wall an intense heat kicked in as the light above started radiating heat into the room instantly helping the water dry up on his skin. Devon closed his eyes and looked up at the roof letting the water droplets dry up, but the noises from his stomach didn't stop, it got worse. Every few seconds his stomach would let out a loud grumble.

"fuuuuckk, who knew one coffee would get me so bloated..."

Reaching into a small draw Devon pulled out a paid of white underwear which he slipped on. As he did he felt the back struggle to fit. Everything was perfectly tailored to his body to make him look his best but this pair felt weird on him. He felt his ass jiggle as the fabric slide over. He felt the meat of his ass cheeks spilling out of the sides and he could feel the fabric tightly stretch across his behind. As he took his first steps the underwear only felt more uncomfortable, like it was three sizes too small. He walked around the small corner in the bathroom back to the mirror so he could get a better look.

"WHAT THE FUCK" Devon screamed in shock as he stared at the reflection before him.

Devon stood there in shock as he looked at the chubby man before himself.

"I-I- OH GOD, I-I'M FAT"

His stomach loudly grumbled, almost like it was responding too him

"uuuuggghhh, oh god" Devon moaned as he grabbed his new chubby belly with both hands desperately hoping he could push it back in.

His body felt like it wasn't his. He could still feel all the muscle tone it was just buried under a layer of blubber. Taking a step forward he watched as his stomach jiggled. He grabbed his phone off the counter top as he started to panic. He sent out a mass message to everyone on his staff.

"EVERYONE GO HOME AND TAKE THE WEEK OFF, GOING ON MY TRIP EARLY"

Instantly Devon's stomach grumbled. He tossed his phone down on the bench, closed his eyes and grabbed his stomach as a reaction to the pain. The pain got worse as his stomach's grumbling turned to gurgling.

Devon began taking in deep breaths, with each breath his stomach expanded, and with each exhale it deflated, but not all the way. Devon began to itch all over. With on hand already on his stomach he took his one free and desperately began to itch his chest and arms.

He watched as his thin layer of hair darkened and grew longer, slowly making him look like he had never waxed in his life. After a few minutes the itchiness began to die down and Devon's second hand moved down to help massage his complaining gut.

"wh-what's happening to me" Devon cried out, tears starting to well in his eyes.

Suddenly his stomach let out an insatiably loud groan, followed by a noise he had never heard before.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGG"

Devon yelled out in pain and watched in the mirror as his chubby belly rapidly expanded into a big round gut within an instant. It took him a minute to recover and adjust to the pain. He thought his skin had surely just split open, but it hadn't, what he saw in the mirror was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.

Devon was greeted by a large hairy bouncing gut.

"OH MY GOD, W-WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, I LOOK LIKE SOME FUCKING PIG"

Devon bounced his gut with his hands and watched it shake like jelly.

Within a matter of minutes, Devon had gone from sexy billionaire who was on magazines around the world, to a fat greasy pig.

He couldn't help but bounce his gelatinous belly in shock, he almost burst into tears at what a fat freak he had become. He was disgusted by himself, he couldn't go to work like this, he couldn't let his staff see him like this, but the worst part about becoming a fat pig.

He was starving.

-------------

Two weeks went by and Devon's mansion had started to become a mess after he sent all his staff away telling them he was off on his trip. His towels and clothes scattered all over the floor. Take out bags and food containers were all around his house. Without someone to pick up after him, Devon was disgusting.

He sat on his couch taking a multiple food containers out of two paper bags that had just been delivered to his door. His stomach loudly groaned. Devon picked up his phone off the coffee table and opened Instagram. The first post was that of a friend who had actually gone on the trip he had planned to take.

It was a photo of his friend Todd standing next to a tall black bodybuilder on a tropical island, with the caption 'I think I found love out here in the sun'

Devon's stomped his feet causing his meaty thighs to tremble.

"ITS NOT FAIIIRRRR, I SHOULD BE OUT THERE, THAT BIG HUNK OF MEAT SHOULD BE DATING ME, M E, NOT TODD"

tears started welling up in his eyes Devon flicked open a white food box on his coffee table revealing a beautifully decorated white chocolate mud cake which he instantly destroyed by digging his hands into it and stuffing it in his face.

between in monstrous and obnoxious chewing he stuff grabbing his belly and jiggling it with one hand.

"WHEN WILL YOU GO AWAY" Devon cried as he shovelled more expensive food in his mouth and washed it down with a bottle of lemonade like a spoilt pig.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

sooner or later he'd realise if he wanted it gone, he was going to have to work for it...

---------

NOTE: hope you all enjoyed this, my inbox has a bunch of requests begging for a weight gain story and whilst I don't tend to write this sort of thing too often I thought I'd feed the hunger so to speak and write one for those wishing for one.

#male transformation #male tf #tf story #gay transformation #transformation #reality change #musk #weight gain

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mortiskiller · 5 months

Text

Pignapped

Content warning: Contains violent language, physical harm, non-consensual feedism and other acts. This is just a story, don't be weird.

A commission for @collegefatty10

He was on the way back to the car after grabbing a pizza. It was routine at this point in his life. Eating all day without regard to his ever-increasing weight had led to some interesting eating habits. A breakfast sandwich in the morning had become three sandwiches with hash browns and two doughnuts. Lunch steadily grew into a multi-hour affair with trips to multiple drive-thru visits, door dash orders, desk drawers filled with snacks, and not to mention a new habit of pre-gaming before dinner. Driving to get his pizza led to stopping for fries, or nuggets, or a combo meal, or all of that, before he picked up his next greasy calorie bomb. This routine made his day predictable, pigs are simple after all. The same places and employees watched him fatten from the low 300s to his heaving 430 pounds. Day after day, pound after pound he kept ordering more. As his waddle slowed, his gut hung lower and lower, his face getting red and sweaty from the 20-foot walk from the car to the pizzeria, he was an easy target.

I had seen him months before on a lunch break. My eyes shot open as saw a hanging lard pile of a man puff his way into McDonald’s. It was a passing horny thought that I would see him again, maybe add it to my mental bank of images and memories to jerk off to later. Yet, he kept coming to the same places again, and again, and again till it was too much to resist. I mapped out his route, timed him as ordered, and ate his feasts. Noted how he favored his right leg as he waddled, his arms struggling to carry the ever-increasing amount of food he ordered. As I watched him, I couldn't help but notice the way his right leg bore the brunt of his weight, the limp a constant reminder of his indulgent lifestyle. I wondered how long he had been living like this, how many times he had ordered a pizza and not once thought about the consequences. I knew he would be easy to take. Easy to keep docile, dumb, and growing.

I waited till the moon was just a sliver in the night sky outside his favorite pizzeria. Checking my watch, as it ticked over to 8:40 pm, his sedan pulled into the parking lot, the front driver’s side sitting low as my soon-to-be pet pig drove. I watched from my hiding spot as he struggled to haul his massive frame out of the driver's seat, grunting and wheezing with the effort. The scent of greasy pizza wafted through the air as he waddled towards the entrance, his heavy footfalls reverberating on the pavement.

Once he was safely inside i made my move, slipping silently into the shadows and following him at a distance. Inside, he placed his usual order - a large meat lover's pizza with extra cheese and a side of garlic knots. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he paid for his meal, oblivious to the predator lurking in the darkness behind him.

As he turned to leave, I struck swiftly and silently, wrapping a thick cloth bag over his head. He struggled weakly for a moment before I pushed him back to the car. With ease, I kicked his right knee from the back and watched as he tumbled into the truck. His muffled moans of confusion and fear barely registering over the hum of the engine. He was mine now, another victim added to my collection.

I paused for a moment, considering my next move. He was a strange yet fascinating addition to my collection, and I relished the thought of having him under my control. I could see him squirming in the back, his heavy breathing and muffled cries a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

I parked the car in a secluded spot, away from any prying eyes. The moon now a hazy glow, bathing everything in a sickly light. I approached the car, opened the rear door, and lifted my newest prize out of the vehicle.

He was heavier than he looked, his bulk making it difficult for me to handle him. But I had experience, and I was patient. I carried him to a nearby abandoned warehouse, the cold metal of the hinges echoing as I pushed open the door.

Once inside, I placed him on a table, still wearing the cloth bag over his head.

"Hey, buddy," I cooed to the pig, my voice low and sinister. "You know, you're not going to like what's going to happen to you. I've got some pretty wicked plans for you. I'm going to fatten you up, relentlessly, until there's barely anything left of your dignity or self-esteem. You see, we're going to use you, and we're going to pleasure you in ways you can't even imagine."

The pig let out a soft grunt, the sounds muffled by the cloth bag still securing his head. I chuckle, a dark and twisted sound that reverberates through the cold, empty warehouse. Taking a step closer, my shoes scraped against the rough concrete floor.

"I've been collecting things like you for years," I whispered, running his hands over his captive's plump body. "I've come across so many of your kind, just like you, loving your comfort and your food. And I've had my way with them all. Oh, I've had so much fun, and you're next on my list."

As I approach the pig, who is still covered in the bag, he lets out a soft whimper and shakes his head, trying to free himself. His body wobbles with each attempt as he struggles against his bonds. Belly aching with his last meal the movement causes an unintended blech from beneath the bag. Swiftly, I remove the bag from the pig's head, revealing a face red, sweating, and fearful. The pig's eyes are wide and terrified as he stares up at me, taking in his new surroundings - cold concrete walls bare of any decoration, a king-sized bed next to a small bathroom, and a large full-body mirror.

"Look at you," I say with a hint of disgust mixed with fascination, "just look at what you've become."

"You know what you are now?" I ask quietly, “You are my plaything, a toy, a fat weak blubbery toy!” my digs deep into his belly hang, bringing a painful whine from the pig’s mouth.

"You are mine, completely and entirely," I continue, my voice growing menacing, "and I'm going to do whatever I want with you at my command." The pig tries to struggle again, but his movements are weak and pathetic. "Oh, but first things first," I say, walking over to the bed where I had left a set of handcuffs.

I restrained the pig on the bed, at once reluctant and terrified to yield to such volition.

"You'll get used to it, trust me," I say, my fingers tracing curious paths over his bulging form. "Maybe then you'll even enjoy it."

With the pig cuffed to the headboard and footboard, I began to study him, taking in every last curve and fold of his form. He looked so helpless and vulnerable like a lost child in desperate need of a firm hand to guide him.

Noticing the glaze that had settled over his eyes, I thought, 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

Methodically, I began to examine him as if he were an exotic creature, taking note of each flaw that had been revealed by my rough handling.

He would be my plaything, my plump and innocent pig. And I would use him, treat him, and abuse him in ways that would break him completely. I would fatten him up and weaken him until his body could no longer bear the weight of his own flesh. I would use every inch of this vulnerable creature, making him my own personal toy.

As I stood over him, watching him squirm pathetically on the bed, my mind raced with all the ways in which I could degrade him. My hands moved over his flesh, feeling him shake beneath my touch. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the softness of his fur, the weight of the fat that filled his body. It was all so delicious, so intoxicating, that I found myself growing hard at the thought of what I could do with him.

My fingers brushing feather-light against his skin, teasing him with every passing second. It was then that I decided upon the next part of his degradation. With a smirk playing on my lips, I retrieved a bucket from the floor, its contents sloshing against the sides with every move I made. It was filled to the brim with a half-gallon of lard-filled slop, designed to both fuel his growing hunger and make him feel even more vulnerable in his restraints.

As I drew closer, the pig let out a small whine, his eyes widening in fear and anticipation. He knew what was coming. I brought the bucket towards his mouth, and with a practiced hand, I tilted it so that the contents would flow easily. A funnel was inserted into his mouth, and with a cruel smirk, I watched as the slop began to pour down his throat, filling him to the brim.

End of Part 1.

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fattystoriez · 1 month

Text

The Roomate

Content Warning: Weight Gain

Tyus was for and athletic throughout his life, being on the football, wrestling and track teams in high school. Tyus was at college on a varsity football scholarship, he was just getting to campus for his first day when he met his roomate. He was surprised to find that his roommate was a 36 year old slobbish man to be his roommate. The man was wearing a tight blue polo, his fat guy and soft chest clung to the fabric. The shirt was stained with different stains.

“Nice to meet you” *BURAAAPP* The man belched loudly. “I’m Brayden.” Brayden pulls down his shirt as it rides up his belly.

Tyus was disgusted by his roomate, he was hairy, bald, fat… a total cock block. “I’m Tyus… you’re not what I expected for a roommate.” Tyus puts some bags down, he noticed that Brayden was very musky and the room was filled with it.

Brayden scratched his soft double chin “You’re exactly what I expected, a young fit jock.” Brayden got closer, his musk started to fill Tyus’ nostrils fogging up his brain. “Can get anyone with a flex from his toned arms, always showing them off with an athletic tank top.” Brayden put a hand on Tyus’ abs, rubbing them from under the shirt. Tyus wanted to push the fat perv away but he was sluggish. “Come sit down with me” Tyus noticed that there was a disgusting stained couch in the dorms living area, Brayden pushed Tyus right down onto the cum stained cushions.

The musk was making Tyus more submissive and agreeable to Brayden’s lifestyle. “ Oh uh wow… you smell… dis-“ Tyus had a hard time saying it, his cock beginning to twitch in his workout shorts.

“I know I’m smell great don’t I?” Brayden wafted his musk over to Tyus. “What do you like to eat, Tyus?”

“Oh I usually just eat lean meat and vegetables…” Tyus felt odd about what he was saying, he started to feel like that wasn’t true.

“Oh but you look like a man who really loves doughnuts, right” Brayden took out a dozen doughnuts and started shoving them into Tyus’ mouth.

“No I don-mphhhhh” Brayden moved Tyus’ hands to his fat belly.

“You feel that? You love that soft fat pig belly.” Brayden shoved another doughnut into Tyus’s mouth.

Tyus’s body began to swell with fat, bite after bite, covering his once toned abs. His flabby belly pressed against his tank top, his chest softening and become plump moobs. This looks down at his blubbery body, a mix of arousal and fear caused his cock to stiffen in his shorts. “Oh my god…” Brayden forces another doughnut into Tyus’s moth “I’m getting so…” Tyus felt his belly gurgle as he let out a loud belch. “UUUUrrraaaaPPP”

“You’re becoming a fat piggy” Brayden squeezes Tyus’s left moob while forcing new junk food into his mouth, Tyus began to sweat from under his moobs. “oh damn you plumped up nicely, let’s keep going” Brayden pulled out unlabeled jars of a chocolaty thick fluid, he shoves a funnel into Tyus’s mouth and pours the mixture into his mouth. It tasted so sweet and decadent, and it was causing Tyus to swell quickly.

“S-stop… I’m getting so f-fat!” Tyus’s alarm went away as he put his hands on his fat belly, he couldn’t help but play with the soft mass of blubber that had replaced his abs. Tyus didn’t know it but he had grown a double chin, softening and removing his once sharp jawline. Tyus tried fighting, but Brayden’s musk was too much for him to handle. Tyus’s body swelled, growing a light dusting of body hair. Brayden started to remove his tank top and shorts to show off the whale that had replaced the jock.

“Oh how do you feel piggy? Feel like being my submissive slob??” Brayden shook Tyus’s belly, causing it to jiggle, a sensation that was foreign to Tyus.

“I- I-“ Brayden gave Tyus’s nipple a tug, causing a surge of pleasure that made Tyus’s cock shoot a load. “I am your submissive piggy” Tyus moaned as he left a wet spot on the couch. Tyus’s mind went completely submissive and dumb, the muscled jock that was there minutes ago no longer existed, only a dumb obese pig.

#male weight gain story #weight gain story #weight gain tf #fat gain tf #male weight gain stories #male tf

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pikablu410 · 1 year

Text

Double Date

Haha...it’s been a bit. But I’m back, hopefully. And hopefully more consistently!

“You almost ready, dear?” Their partner’s voice called from downstairs.

“Yeah just let me wash up and I’ll be down in a second.” They replied before heading into the bathroom. Nick looked at himself in the mirror. The gray suit and dark blue tie complimented his brown skin well. The dark slacks showed off his recent hours at the gym, something he was most proud of. To top off his appearance, a freshly shaven face along with dark curls gave Nick quite the handsome appearance.

“Nick! Derek and Amir aren’t going to wait all night!” The voice called once more.

“I’m coming Tyler; hold on!” Nick shouted before briskly hurrying down the stairs. Once downstairs, he saw his partner in a black suit that brought out his blue eyes and accentuated his dark hair.

“You look great.” Was all he could think of.

Tyler blushed and said, “Thanks.” Their moment didn’t last long as Tyler quickly remembered they were running late. Rushing to the car, Tyler and Nick hopped in and buckled in.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Nick asked, but Tyler just shrugged. “Too late now.” And with that, the two hurried off as the sun started to set.

“I still think it’s weird that Derek suggested a buffet for a place to have a double date. That one fancy restaurant isn’t too far out of the way.” Nick stated as they waited at a red light.

“Well, it’s a new place so I guess he just wants to check it out. Plus, Derek did suggest this whole thing and offered to pay for it all, so I’m not complaining.” Tyler rebutted, just as the light turned green.

A moment of silence struck the two before Nick finally asked, “Derek’s the one who’s apart of that…group?”

“A group? Like a band?” Tyler asked, teasing Nick.

“You know what I mean. It’s that…thing you’re into.” Nick elaborated, and Tyler’s smile slowly faded.

“...yeah, he’s a feeder.” Tyler nearly mumbled.

Nick’s partner had expressed his interest in bigger men early on in their relationship. Tyler was particular, in that they weren’t content with just dating a bigger guy. They had to grow the man themselves, letting their partner graze and feast like a lazy farm animal. Derek was one of Tyler’s friends that they had made online through a site that connected people with similar thoughts. While Nick had never met Derek, he saw pictures that Tyler took and let him read the messages the two sent back and forth to each other. Though, Nick was never really keen on reading them after seeing the kinds of things they talked about.

When Tyler had brought this up to Nick, with the prospect of Nick going along with Tyler’s “strange dream,” as he put it, Nick declined almost immediately. His goal in college was to work out more and lose what little excess weight he had lingering from high school, and so the two’s goals seemed to be direct opposites of each other. Luckily, Tyler seemed to take the rejection well and basically dropped the subject altogether around Nick. The only time it ever got brought up was when Tyler talked about…

“Derek wanted me to warn you before we go in.” Tyler said, parking the car. Nick had zoned out for so long he hadn’t realized they had already arrived.

Raising his eyebrow, Nick hesitantly asked, “What should I be worried about?”

“Amir is also into the whole…feeder thing. Except he likes to be the one growing.” Tyler said, as if confessing to a sin.

“Okay? Why would that be an issue?” Nick asked, to which Tyler sighed.

“It’s just that. Derek knows you’re not into it, and he and his partner are. He just didn’t want you to be grossed out.” Tyler further explained.

Nick just shrugged and said, “It shouldn’t be a problem for me.”

“Alright then.” Tyler mumbled through a sigh as the two stepped out of the car and headed inside.

The place looked more like a bar than a buffet. The lighting was very dim and all of the seats were covered with leather. The tables were a rustic oak, or some other kind of wood. Each table had antique salt and pepper shakers, adding to the classic look. Despite everything, Nick felt like the place had an eerie quality to it, one that Tyler didn’t seem to feel or notice.

Another strange thing was that none of the customers seemed to be women. They also seemed to be all kinds of overweight. There were a few skinny men, which the couple could quickly identify as twinks, but the majority of the people eating with either chubby or downright fat.

“C’mon, Derek and Amir text me that they’re already here.” Tyler said, going over to a waiter to find their seats. The stick thin man guided the couple over to a booth, where Nick was able to finally lay eyes on his partner’s friend in person, as well as their partner.

Derek’s appearance wasn’t a surprise, as Tyler had shown Nick a photo of him not just two days ago. He had straight, black hair that was neatly combed and was wearing a plaid button-up shirt. Cyan shorts and ankle socks completed the nerdy look, but if Nick had seen Derek walking around the city, or even in the gym, he wouldn’t have batted an eye.

The same couldn’t be said for Amir.

“You must be Nick! I’ve heard a bit about you from Derek already!” Amir introduced himself.

Amir had glasses and short, brown hair. That was about where the typical traits ended. Amir had on a similar plaid button-up, like his partner, but the buttons were strained tightly against his bulbous belly. It must’ve stuck out at least a foot in front of him - maybe more. Nick could see a tank top underneath the shirt, as if Amir or Derek knew it was in danger of snapping off. Continuing to match Derek, Amir had on a pair of orange shorts that clung to his rear and thighs. When Amir had gotten up to greet Nick and Tyler, the man struggled to waddle over to the two without damaging the pants. Thunder thighs, a thick double chin and love handles poking out from under his shirt, Amir was an embodiment of the reason why he really wasn’t keen on going along with Tyler’s…thing. Whatever he may call it.

After introductions, the two sat their possessions down at the table.

“Well, why don’t we grab something to eat?” Derek suggested. Nick and Tyler agreed and headed off to the buffet line, but Amir barely moved and said, “You know what I like to eat, right babe?” “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He teased, giving Amir a kiss on the cheek before walking with Nick and Tyler.

Tyler and Derek talked for a bit before Derek said, “Amir’s favorite dishes are over this way; I’ll meet you guys back at the table!” As Derek headed off to another section of the buffet, Nick pulled his partner over as they grabbed plates for the two of them.

“Dude!” Nick whispered to Tyler, who looked confused. “What? Did I miss something?” They asked, looking around their surroundings.

“You didn’t tell me he’d be, y’know, huge!” Nick whispered again, to which Tyler turned around and rolled their eyes.

“Can you just get through this one dinner, please? For me?” Tyler pleaded, handing Nick a ceramic plate.

Looking into his partner’s eyes and sighing, Nick reluctantly took the plate and headed over to the buffet line, Tyler following quickly after. Nick quickly noticed that there weren’t a ton of healthy options to choose from. There was a salad bar, but it looked like it hadn’t been restocked recently. It made sense, since the lines were at the buffet trays with burgers, french fries and pizza. Even the options that seemed healthier, like steak and mashed potatoes, were dripping in either grease or butter. Nick hesitantly put a burger, some fries and a steak on his plate, trying to keep it light. However, he was still hungry and the food definitely smelled good, so he decided on eating something. Plus, he was sure Amir would eat whatever he didn’t.

The thought reminded him that Derek had gone to a different part of the restaurant for Amir’s food. “If this isn’t the stuff Amir likes, I’m not sure I wanna see what he does like.” Nick thought to himself as he walked back to their table with Tyler.

Unfortunately for Nick, his question was answered as he saw Derek had already gotten back to the table and was feeding Amir some food. At least, that’s what Nick thought it was. Derek had brought back an entire pizza tray, and the pizza had hamburgers as toppings. It only got worse the more Nick saw; deep fried burgers, bacon wrapped ribs, cheese-stuffed wings and dessert lasagna were just a few of the items lined in front of Amir. The pig himself was being stuffed to the brim by Derek, moaning and groaning with each mouthful for greasy, disgusting slop.

Derek noticed the two sitting down and blushed a bit, “Oh! Did you guys enjoy yourselves?”

“I could ask you two the same thing!” Tyler teased, setting their plate of salad and chicken fries down on the table.

Nick followed in his partner’s example and gave a disingenuous chuckle. Looking down at his plate, he realized he also went a little overboard. Whereas Tyler had only gotten a salad and some chicken, he had enough to feed a few people.

“Ty, I’m not sure I can-”

“Oh, I got you two sodas to drink. Sorry Nick, they were out of tea and water.” Derek mentioned before going back to feeding Amir. Sauces surrounded his mouth and spilled to his chest, which was barely hidden from public view.

Shaking his head, Nick just decided to eat something and get this double date over with. Grabbing his burger, Nick noted how grease dropped from the bottom bun. Taking a breath, Nick closed his eyes and took a light bite of the sandwich.. It tasted amazing! Somehow, the grease didn’t bother Nick at all, so he took another bite. Again, it was delicious! He barely noticed how quickly he finished his burger and moved onto his steak. It was at this point that he casually started grabbing some fries intermittently, not wanting to stop himself from eating. Nick hastily cut up his steak, finding it surprisingly easy to cut through the meat. He figured with all the grease, the steak would be cooked poorly, but his knife and fork went through like butter. It was almost as if the steak was butter itself with how greasy it was and how good it tasted!

After a mere ten or so minutes, Nick found his fork hitting a bare plate. Smiling, Nick sat back and started to talk.

“Man, that was surprisingly-URRP!” Nick surprised himself with a belch.

“Sorry, he’s a bit of a pig.” Tyler apologized to Derek and Amir.

Raising his eyebrow, Nick turned to his partner and said, “What do you mean pig? I’m not the one who’s-” “Oh, don’t worry. I know a thing or two about guys who act like pigs.” Derek joked, smiling at Amir, who smiled back before opening his mouth for another piece of chocolate lasagna. It was as if Nick hadn’t even tried to say anything to them.

“Yeah, I mean, babe, getting two plates full of greasy food isn’t exactly healthy.” Tyler commented, motioning to a plate filled with mashed potatoes, pizza and wings.

Taking a bite of pizza as if it had always been there, Nick rolled his eyes at the hypocrisy. “Can a man not be hungry? It’s a buffet after all.” Nick thought to himself, devouring a few wings before going back to the pizza. He licked his lips and the surrounding areas of his mouth of grease, letting out another small belch after drinking some soda. As Nick started on the mashed potatoes, he felt something start to rub his stomach. Looking down to see Tyler’s hand going in a circular motion, Nick continued to eat without questioning what they were doing. Why should he? He knew they were just trying to help him eat more, since Tyler knew how much he loved to eat.

“Babe, do you want my chicken wings? I’m kinda full already.” Tyler said, pushing his plate towards Nick as if they already knew the answer.

The boy dipped the wings in his mashed potatoes, moaning at the combined taste of grease and butter. It was astounding! Once again finishing his plate within minutes, Nick leaned back as Tyler continued to massage his gut.

“We should go out for new clothes soon; I think you’re starting to enjoy eating a bit too much.” Tyler half-joked.

Nick looked down to see his bloated gut. It was just bloated, right? With the way Tyler squeezed it and the feeling Nick got from it, he wasn’t sure.

“Tyler, can you stop rubbing-UURRRRP.” Nick let out a slightly larger belch.

“What’s wrong babe?” They asked, still continuing to massage their boyfriend’s stomach. They started to push and prod more, feeling their hands sink into the squishy chub.

“I’m serious, I don’t feel-” Just as Nick was mid-sentence, he let out a fart. It was only loud enough for the table to hear, but Nick felt just as embarrassed all the same. Well, embarrassed at first.

“Ooohhhh.” Nick moaned, as if he had just lifted a huge weight off of his shoulders.

“Nice one dude!” Amir complimented, letting out his own belch and fart before continuing to be fed.

At that moment, Nick remembered that this was a double date. He looked over at Amir and saw that the bottom button on his shirt had snapped off at some point, leaving just enough olive-colored belly exposed so you could see his bellybutton. Amir and Derek were obviously not perturbed by Nick’s display of gluttony. In fact, nobody seemed to think Nick’s behavior was strange at all, including the man himself.

“I’m gonna go get more food.” Nick said, going to stand up and finding that he had to readjust his center of balance. Though it surprised him at first, a grumbling stomach and the scent of food distracted him long enough to not think much of it.

“I’ll come with. Just in case you grab more than you can carry.” Tyler teased, but no one seemed to take it as a joke.

Quickly heading back to the buffet line, Nick grabbed a few burgers this time, doing the same with multiple pizza slices. He barely noticed how they dripped with more cheese and grease than the ones he had eaten minutes ago. Nick quickly filled up his second plate with wings and fries. Noticing the dessert bar, which he had purposefully ignored his first time around, Nick decided to put a cupcake and donut onto his second plate.

“Is there anything you want more of babe?” Tyler asked, poking his head over Nick’s shoulder to see what he was getting.

Realizing he had been in a sort of trance, Nick snapped back to reality and looked over at his partner. “Uh, whatever you think I’d like. Those wings and burgers were pretty good.” Nick responded, and Tyler smiled before heading over to the buffet line.

Coming back to the table to see that Amir was nowhere near done with his first course, Nick and Tyler placed their plates down once again. This time, however, they had to be much more careful not to spill anything.

Almost immediately, Nick got to eating. The burgers tasted even better than they had earlier, despite how he left even less time to savor their tastes. Cheese and sauce spilled onto Nick’s shirt and splattered around his mouth. It was like some urge had taken over his normally pragmatic attitude. This continued with the pizza, tomato sauce and bits of other toppings making a mess of Nick’s face and outfit.

“Mmpf, sho good.” He couldn’t help but moan out. He could hear Tyler and Derek talking about something, but didn’t pay it enough attention to actually listen. Instead, Nick continued to stuff himself, letting out moans and groans as he ate. Finishing his first plate, he let out a burp and thought “I could eat this stuff all day.”

Nick reached for his second plate, but noticed a plate holding a rack of ribs in front of him. That wasn’t always there, was it? Maybe it was one of the plates Tyler had gotten him. Either way, the barbecue smell was tantalizing and Nick started to chow down on the ribs. The meat fell right off the bone, leaving his face covered with bits of ribs and barbecue sauce. More moans were elicited from the man, followed by a fart that went unnoticed by everyone at the table, including Nick. “Man, why am I so hungry?” Nick thought as he tore apart more of the ribs.

Finishing the last of the ribs, Nick let out a belch just as Derek spoke up.

“So Nick,” He started, shoving a donut into Amir’s mouth, “Tyler told me that you were actually the one who proposed the idea of gaining.”

Nick’s eyes went wide. “Hu-URRRP” He barely got out before belching. Absentmindedly, he shoved some fries in his mouth as he tried to process the conversation.

“What’s wrong honey? Don’t you remember asking me to cook more for you?” Tyler asked.

“No, I explicitly remember saying-URRRRRRRP. God damn why am I so gassy?” Nick complained, losing his train of thought.

“Here, you’re just bloated. Keep eating and let me help.” Tyler said, holding another pizza slice in front of Nick’s mouth. They then started to rub Nick’s stomach, causing him to realize a few things.

First, Nick let out a moan, discovering how good it felt when his partner massaged his stomach. It caressed some gas out, but it was worth it for more room and just the feeling in general.

Second, Nick felt Tyler’s hand right on his stomach. Not the button up shirt he was wearing, but his bare skin. Looking down, Nick realized the bottom button of the shirt had popped open, leaving a bit of his stomach on for show.

“Whoa, what the he-mmpf, mmmh.” Nick could barely get out before being fed more.

“Shh, just relax baby.” Tyler cooed. Nick wasn’t used to Tyler being so dominant.

“Babe I’m…getting fat…fast…” Nick said between mouthfuls of food.

“I know right! It’s so sexy how your body’s basically just…giving up!” Tyler nearly panted out.

Nick felt like he should be disgusted by what Tyler said, but, against all instinct, he could feel blood rushing towards his dick. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tyler shoved a wing in instead. Nick habitually chewed the wing, opening his mouth once again to say something, but was just fed more by his partner.

Tyler continued to feed Nick more and more, with Nick realizing that they should’ve run out of food awhile ago. He felt more air on his stomach, and, when he went to reach for it, felt that it wasn’t bloated at all. Instead, Nick could jiggle his stomach and grab at the rolls that made it up. His partner took advantage of this, squeezing the stomach to coax more belches and farts out as Nick ate. Nick could barely resist, the feeling of Tyler’s hands on his stomach still igniting an electric feeling in him.

“You’re becoming such a pig.” Tyler whispered as he held a cupcake in front of Nick’s mouth.

“I’m not a-URRRRRP-ooohhh.” Nick barely got out. The more he ate, the harder it was to believe what Tyler was saying was false.

“Babe. I look-URRRP-a mess.” Nick breathed out before he was fed more. Sauces now dripped onto his belly, with red and yellow stains bleeding into his top. Though, it wasn’t like the top was hiding much, just acting as a cover for Nick’s inflated chest. Faint outlines of enlarged nipples could be seen through the fabric. His pants didn’t fare much better, as his rear had pushed them down so far just his boxers were keeping it from being exposed to the public. If he ate much more, his ass crack would probably be visible to the people at the table behind them.

“Aww, don’t worry Nick-y. Amir’s bursted his shirt open too.” Tyler said, as if being compared to that fat pig of a man offered any recompense.

Though, it did remind Nick to actually check his surroundings and look across the table. Amir looked absolutely stuffed, but was still eating more. His ginormous stomach was out and exposed, his moobs the only hidden part of his upper body. Sweaty, dirty rolls were exposed, and if Nick could look under the table he would see that there were tears in Amir’s pants as well. Despite this, all he could hear from Amir was moans of “More,” or satisfied groans of pleasure.

“Man, Amir looks pretty filthy Derek.” Tyler commented as they fed Nick more. At this point, Nick could barely resist eating whatever was held up in front of his face, thanks to his paranormal hunger.

“Yeah, he tends to get pretty worked up when we’re out eating.” Derek commented. He fed Amir another burger, mustard dripping from his double chin and onto what was left of his shirt. “Your pig seems to be pretty messy too.” Derek said, pointing at Nick.

“C’mon man, I’m not that dir-URRRRRP,” Nick belched out. It was getting harder and harder to fight back against the comments Derek and Tyler made about him.

Nick farted before Tyler fed him and spoke up, “Yeah, I tried to keep cleaning him for the longest time, but he’s gotten so fat and lazy that getting him to fit into the shower is too much of a struggle.” Sweat dampened Nick’s underarms and in between his moobs. His exposed rolls of fat felt cool with the sweat dripping off of them in the air conditioned room. Even more food stains appeared on Nick’s shirt and skin. Gas flowed out of him even more easily now.

“URRRRP-urgh, fuck.” Nick panted before farting and being fed more.

“Y’know, he’s gotten so lazy he stopped bothering with shaving. I was a little concerned at first, since he was so obsessed with it before, but I think it’s super hot now.” Tyler went on, rubbing Nick’s stomach.

Hair started to sprout on Nick’s exposed skin, his belly going from shiny and clear to sweaty and hairy. The same could be said about his chest and arms. Peach fuzz appeared on his cheeks at first, but the hair on his chin and upper lip thickened to look like a darker shade of fur. Bits of food appeared in the fur on his face, which Nick instinctively tried to lick out.

Finally, the third button burst on Nick’s top, leaving only one button to keep his shirt together. Not like it was holding anything back, as essentially all of Nick’s sweaty, bloated, hairy body was exposed. He looked more like a bear than the pig Tyler and Derek had teased him of being.

“Damn! I didn’t think Amir would be the last one to burst out of his shirt!” Derek admitted, sounding genuine for the first time that night.

“Urgh, babe, URRP, I want more.” Nick gasped out, lust on his breath.

Smiling, Tyler gave him a peck on the cheek and said, “Of course baby! Wanna come with Derek?”

And with that, the two, bulbous men were left with the scraps of food they hadn’t been fed.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Amir asked after Derek and Tyler were out of earshot.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess.” Nick replied, shoveling bits of fries and nachos into his mouth.

“Why’d you wanna start gaining? From what I’ve heard you used to be super fit.” Amir spoke, picking at bits of fried food on the plates in front of him.

Thinking back, Nick got a headache. It was hard to think about his past. He didn’t really have a reason for doing this, or anything really. Tyler made all of his decisions.

“I dunno. To make Tyler happy I guess.” Nick slurped down the leftover nacho cheese.

“Nah, I think it’s more than that.” Amir smirked, causing Nick to look up in curiosity. “From one fatty to another, I know it’s more than that. I love that I get to be a lazy pig and do nothing. Derek just takes care of me and feeds me whenever I ask. He gets to decide how big I am and if I’ll ever lose any of this.” Amir went on, motioning to his jiggling body

The words resonated with Nick, causing him to let out a quiet moan as he ate.

“And from the sound of it, you feel similarly.” Amir smiled before continuing to tease, “I bet you love how you’re losing control of your body. Not only is your body growing out of control, but you can’t help but spew gas and make a mess when you eat. It’s like your partner is making you a human pig.” Nick let out a more audible moan as he shoved a half-eaten piece of lasagna in his mouth. Cheese dripped onto his chest, getting entangled in the fur there. He slobbered over some leftover fries before shoving them down his throat.

“Fuck…” was all Nick could pant before devouring more leftovers. Sauces splattered around his mouth and what was left of his button up.

“So Nick, I’ll ask again,” Amir said, eating a whole slice of cake in seconds, “Why do you do it?”

Nick belched and shoved a handful of buttery mashed potatoes into his mouth, “I wanna get bigger. Being fat is so…URRRRRP…so sexy.” Nick moaned out, “I love being treated like a pig.”

Amir smirked, letting out his own belch. The conversation was starting to turn him on even more than he already was with Derek feeding him. Unfortunately, before Amir could take it any further Derek and Tyler arrived back at the table, each with a cart full of food.

“The line’s are getting shorter and shorter. We must’ve come at a good time!” Derek innocently said as he sat next to Amir.

“Everything alright babe?” Tyler asked, sitting next to Nick.

“Urp- more…want more…” Nick belched out. Tyler smiled as his partner and shoved a cupcake into his mouth, smearing the icing all around his lips. Nick just licked up the icing like a pig, not bothering to care how Tyler made a mess of him.

“We’ve got such good piggies, don’t we Tyler?” Derek asked aloud, feeding Amir several brownies.

“They’re so nice and fat, and love to eat so much.” Tyler cooed, relentlessly stuffing food into Nick’s mouth. The boy begged for more while his mouth was full of food, unable to resist wanting more.

About halfway through their carts of food, Amir and Nick just started to mindlessly eat whatever was held in front of their mouths. Grunts and moans of pleasure sounded from their table, though it wasn’t much different from the rest of the buffet.

Nick moaned as the final button holding his shirt together burst, causing his moobs to flop out and the rest of his upper body to jiggle. The force caused him to belch, of which Tyler cheered him on for.

“So big…need more…” Nick panted out, barely able to say something before he attacked more food Tyler handed him.

Amir’s shirt didn’t last much longer after that, though Derek did comment about how impressed he was Nick lost his shirt before Amir.

“Such a fat piggy.” Derek teased, grabbing one of Amir’s moobs and jiggling. Amir just moaned, unable to form a coherent thought through the pleasure of gluttony and his growing body.

Though their shirts were basically gone, their pants weren’t fairing much better. Tears could be seen on Nick and Amir’s thighs, with Nick’s ass forcing the back of his pants down so much his rear was really only covered because of his underwear. Plus, his ass had gotten so big and wide that his crack was showing through the gap in his chair. The two cheeks jiggled from the immense force of his farts, Nick enjoying the slight sensation.

As the two neared the end of their carts, Derek and Tyler stuffing them like build-a-bear plushes, the two piggish men could barely contain themselves. Their eyes were glazed over, rolls of fat spilling out due to their lack of clothing. Both were stuck in their underwear, fat bodies completely on display.

Faint creaking could be heard from each man’s chair, but they were so invested in consuming that they didn’t pay attention.

“Last donut babe. Eat up.” Tyler ordered, Nick opening his mouth wide to devour the morsel. Chewing at a languid pace, Nick eventually ate the last of his meal, celebrating his accomplishment with a weak burp. Just then, his chair came crashing down the ground, Nick’s immense body jiggling from the impact. He let out more gas from the force of the crash, though his moans of joy were louder than his gas.

“Nick! Are you alright?!” Tyler asked, with genuine concern.

“URRRP! So big…so fat…” Nick moaned out, slowly rubbing his expansive belly as he let out more gas.

Amir fell shortly after, making a similar comment about his size.

“Such a…fat pig…more…” Amir gasped. It wasn’t that he wanted more to eat, but he was so used to asking more more it became habitual.

“I think it’s time to head home. Our piggies need to get to their dessert feast at home!” Derek commented, which elicited pleasant, eager groans from both blobs.

Helping their partners up, Tyler and Derek led their fat pigs to a wide truck in the parking lot. Nick was about to say something about driving separately, but he remembered that no car would be able to hold him comfortably. Plus, this made it easier to get to his feast at Derek’s house.

Their arms under their pigs’, Tyler and Derek slowly helped the two fatties into the back seat of the truck. The seatbelts didn’t fit over their bodies, but their weights were so massive that the belts probably wouldn’t have done much anyways.

Starting on their way home, Nick let out a belch as he watched the buffet slowly travel out of sight.

“You’ve been a pretty good piggy tonight. I love how big you are.” Nick heard Amir say as he leaned over towards Nick. As his body grew closer to Nick’s, so did Amir’s face. It wasn’t long before their lips collided, the two pigs groping each other’s bodies as they made out.

“That was a pretty successful trip considering Nick was even skinnier than you when we got there.” Derek said, noticing the two in the back were preoccupied.

“Well, he had less body fat than me. The muscle was the difficult part. For me, at least.” Tyler said, “Is your shake really that strong? I gave it to Nick like an hour or two before we even left for the buffet.”

“When the food is as fattening as Patty’s it is! I swear, every feeder and their mother has been to that place at least once! I was surprised you’d never been.” Derek commented, causing Tyler to rub the back of his neck.

“I never had the chance to go.” He awkwardly stated, but Derek gave a beaming smile.

“Well now you do!” He said, pointing to the two fat men continue to make out in the back.

Amir and Nick were feeling every crevasse, every roll, every cell of cellulite on each other’s bodies.

“You know what good piggies get, right?” Amir asked with a devious smirk. Nick just moaned, too bothered thinking about fat and food to coherently respond.

Amir lowered himself, lifting Nick’s heavy belly. Going under, Nick’s moans just got louder and more piggish. When Amir found his target, he nearly let out a squeal. He loved being a fat pig.

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