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chunkylechonk · 8 months

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Weight of the Cards

“Can I please check your ID, and be sure to have your entrance fee ready before entering the room,” the casino employee said.

Ethan stepped forward nervously, his shoes sinking into the plush carpet. As he handed over his driver’s license to the clerk, his ears caught the faintest click from somewhere nearby. He glanced behind him, but the cacophony of lights and sounds from the rest of the casino were like an ocean, swallowing a single drop of rain. When he turned back, the clerk was smiling at him widely. “And can I see your chips, sir?”

Only managing a grimace in return, Ethan held up two: a blue 10 written in the middle of the checkered disks. They were all that were left of a very bad night, a very bad couple nights if he was being honest, and he needed to change his luck quick. So when another guest, an older man with a graying beard and wearing a flashy, purple chrome-colored shirt, told him about this secret poker table in the backroom of the casino, Ethan had felt it may be his only chance.

The clerk took the two chips and glanced at them before dropping them into a slot by his side. He smiled again as he handed back Ethan’s ID. “Your chips will be waiting at your seat. I hope you enjoy your time with us and that you win big.”

He stepped aside, ushering Ethan past the desk and towards the velvet curtain draped across the doorway. Lifting his hand, Ethan took a deep breath before he pushed through the threshold, the old man’s words coming unbidden to his mind. You’ll definitely gain more than you ever imagined. Pulling the heavy curtain back, he hoped that the man was right.

The backroom was rather small, dominated by the poker table at its center. It was structured differently than Ethan would have expected: with the dealer in a hollow space in the middle; the players spaced around the origin at regular intervals. A large circle light hung overhead, illuminating the table while casting shadows across the rest of the room. Ethan squinted slightly, and saw a fully-stocked bar in the back corner. The bartender stood behind the counter, cleaning the inside of a glass with a rag. Upon spotting Ethan looking his way, he gave a slight bow, gesturing for him to approach the counter

Ethan walked over and perched nervously on the edge of one of the barstools there, glancing around at some of the other figures in the room. He turned back to the bartender’s welcoming smile, just as wide as the employee’s outside. The man flipped the glass he was cleaning into the air, simultaneously turning around and grabbing a crystal decanter from the shelf behind him. Before Ethan could even comprehend what was happening, the man turned back around, his hand out palm-down, and caught the glass perfectly on his knuckles. His smile could have lit up the entire back room.

“First time here, buddy?” the bartender queried as he poured a thin stream of amber liquid into the glass. A coaster materialized in his hand next; the glass placed on it and slid in front of Ethan before he could respond. He ruefully took the glass, feeling a mixture of awe and embarrassment.

“Is it that obvious?” Ethan said, chuckling softly into his glass as he took a sip. The whiskey set his mouth on fire and scorched a trail as it slithered down his throat. Trying to save face, he masked his cough by continuing. “I don’t know why I feel like I’m going to get murdered back here or something.”

The bartender laughed, inclining his head for Ethan to take another drink, which he did with marginally more success. “Nah, the regulars may seem intimidating, but they love new blood back here. Makes things exciting.” Grabbing the glass from Ethan’s hand right as he drained the last bit, he winked as he poured some more. “Besides, we only murder the guys who aren’t so cute.”

Ethan blushed, sure his cheeks were already aflame from the liquor in his stomach. “Thanks. I definitely feel a little out of my depth right now. Being the only newbie here doesn’t make me feel much better.”

The man chuckled and casually waved toward the poker table behind them. “Don’t worry, newbie, I’m sure you'll grow into it.”

Feeling a little encouraged meeting a friendly welcome, Ethan stood with his second drink and approached the poker table, assuming that the single empty chair that was available must be for him. As Ethan drew near, the other men around the table turned to look at him, and Ethan felt a cold sweat running down his back. There were five others already there, and it seemed that Ethan had been the last to arrive.

The first person he noticed was the older gentleman that had invited him to this secret rendezvous. He lounged back casually in his seat, with his purple suit jacket unbuttoned and thrown open. The man to his left was dressed much more subdued: a simple black polo shirt that bunched up where it was tucked into his tan, pleated pants. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties, with a neat haircut and glasses that slipped down his nose slightly. The next participant was only slightly more remarkable, and he occupied the chair that was to the right of Ethan’s. He had twisted slightly to see who had come in, and Ethan took in the plain T-shirt, which was stained and hugged his protruding belly awkwardly. His neck was obscured by an extra padding of fat, and when he turned back around, his ill-fitting jeans and ample posterior gave Ethan a view of his ass crack. Honestly, the guy would have fit in much more plopped in front of a game console than at this supposedly exclusive meeting.

When Ethan sat down, his chubby neighbor gave him a nod before pensively looking back at his phone, both of his stout thumbs tapping furiously away at the keyboard. Ethan sipped his drink and glanced to his left at the other two players that sat with them.

The Asian man on his left was dressed impeccably, his suit tailored to show off the strong upper body and powerful legs that he had attained. On his wrist was a large gold watch, and several rings decorated his fingers. Ethan felt inferior sitting next to the guy, even though earlier today he had thought his outfit rather stylish, perhaps in a more understated kind of way. The man didn’t even glance his way, but Ethan suspected that the way he leaned forward, showing off his defined profile and sharp jawline, was a cunning way of showing off. But as he finally looked at the final player, he completely forgot about the stunning man to his left.

This guy had to be at least 400 lbs, and he dominated the space as if he relished every bit of his size. There was no sign of the man’s chair underneath him, as it was completely engulfed by the wide stance he had to take to accommodate his massive belly. It hung heavily to sit in his lap, further accentuated by his baby blue shirt, tucked in and tracing the curve of his body. Suspenders of a darker shade bowed out on either side, and the stranger had one hand resting gently on the top of his belly, the other holding a cigar up to his lips. He let out a dense cloud of smoke from his mouth, blurring his rounded face, his bushy eyebrows giving him expression of a gentle scowl. His eyes pierced through the flimsy veil as he regarded Ethan, taking a long drag of his cigar. When Ethan’s eyes made it up to meet his, the man had already looked away, as if he was not interested in his presence at all.

After a few more minutes, the dealer in the middle of the table deftly passed out two cards to the six players, his silence slightly unnerving Ethan. Unlike the other employees who were all smiles, the dealer’s wide-brimmed hat with the light directly overhead cast deep shadows across his face. Once their cards were in hand, the dealer uncovered the first two cards of the deck, beginning the first round. He was beginning to wonder if no one was allowed to speak, and if they were even playing with the same rules as regular poker, until the man that had invited him to this game suddenly spoke up.

“Since I have the honor of going first, figured I’d introduce myself to all you lovely bastards I’ve not seen before. Name’s Quentin, and you best remember it,” he gave a cheeky smile as he threw two red chips into the center, “cause I’m the one gonna rob all ya out of heart and home.” Leaning back, he put his hands behind his head and laughed heartily to himself as his neighbor gave him a sour look.

Ethan was surprised by the quiet voice of the next player, which carried a heavy Mexican accent. He simply told them his name, Angel, sniffing and pushing up his glasses as he threw his own chips into the pile. Next was Ethan’s chunky neighbor, whose name was Billy. As the guy leaned forward to place two chips in the center, Ethan noticed that his shirt clung to his sides, and when he sat back again his shirt had risen to reveal a thin strip of pale belly fat. It bulged over the waistband of his pants, looking soft and malleable. He had to look away quickly, since it was his turn and he hadn’t even looked at his cards yet. Scrambling, he quickly matched the bet and introduced himself to everyone, earning a mock salute from Quentin and a long look from Arthur. Great way to start getting back your winnings, he berated himself, downing the rest of his alcohol for liquid courage.

The remaining two men matched the bets, introducing themselves in order as Yu-jun and Arthur. The first game continued from there, and Ethan had a fairly bad hand once he glanced at his cards. He wasn’t even sure if this poker game had the same rules as he was used to. The chips he had started with seemed to have no basis, and the others around the table all had a varying amount. After all the cards were revealed, he only had a pair, while Quentin lauded his luck, having attained a full house that let him snag all the collected chips. Arthur reached over and clapped the victorious man on the back, seemingly unbothered by his loss. The second round went a little better for Ethan, but his hand still wasn’t enough against Arthur, who this time won with three of a kind.

The players took a short break, and Ethan counted his chips. He had started with one-hundred seventy-eight pieces collectively, for whatever reason, and now was down twenty. He was wondering how much he could lose before cutting his losses when the dealer began giving out extra chips to the players: a black chip for Quentin, a yellow for Arthur, and blue for Ethan. He hadn’t expected that, though looking around the others didn’t seem at all surprised. A light tap on his shoulder caught his attention; the friendly bartender from before was standing behind him, his soothing smile instantly setting Ethan at ease.

“Every couple rounds there’s a short intermission to allocate winnings and reward the players who have been playing well,” he explained, leaning past Ethan and filling his empty glass without asking for confirmation. “Each hand earns you points based on value, regardless of the outcome. At the end the top three players are awarded extra chips. Think of it like a bonus for playing well and maybe for luck as well. Even if you’re beaten by a better hand or simply a bluff, you still can earn something just because you had a good draw.”

Ethan graciously acknowledged the advice, awkwardly trying to twist around and meet the man’s eyes “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I would survive without you.” He instantly cursed his choice of words, blaming the two drinks he’d already had for his tongue slip.

But the guy chuckled and patted his shoulder, resting it there and slowly massaging his arm. Ethan hadn’t realized how tense he’d been, but didn’t pull away from the reassuring touch. We’re all just here to drink and have a good time. I have a feeling you’re going to win big before the night is over. ”

As the bartender drifted away to fill other drinks, Ethan turned back and his eyes fell on Quentin across the table. His jaw dropped. The man was still sitting languidly in his chair, his arms resting across the sides. But he’d suddenly acquired a substantial belly protruding from his center; a perfect sphere that stuck out several inches past his chest. The buttons of his shirt were still holding on, but large diamonds of exposed flesh were appearing between the ones at the crest of his midsection, revealing the peppering of white hair that also covered his stomach. Although mostly covered by his shirt, his chest was pressed against its confines as well, both nipples showing through the straining fabric.

Ethan had no idea what had happened. He was positive that the guy who had invited him had not been this overweight, either before or during the game. But Quentin seemed unbothered, talking to Arthur at his side and laughing at something he was saying. Arthur also looked slightly bigger, although it was hard to tell with his already substantial size. Ethan felt that his belly had bowed out a little further; his underbelly encroaching just a little bit more into his lap. His jowls looked larger as well, rounding out his face and adding to his chubby appearance. Looking at the pair, acting as if nothing was amiss, Ethan felt like he was losing his mind.

The games continued shortly thereafter, and Ethan was definitely beginning to feel the effects of the strong drink. The entire room seemed to take on a hazy appearance, as if Ethan was looking at things through the sweltering mirage of the desert. He felt laser focused on the cards in his hand, but the edges of his vision warped and blurred. He was still watching the two men across from him however, noticing that everytime Quentin leaned forward to reach for his chips his belly looked even bigger. He glanced at the others, but no one else was exhibiting drastic physical changes at the moment. But the atmosphere had indeed changed, with all the participants bantering and joking more than before as they played through a couple games, chips exchanging hands repeated after each one.

Again, they took a brief intermission, and Ethan took a moment to look at his total chips. He had earned the second place reward this time, which had bumped his total up to one-hundred ninety-eight. He was excited that he had finally made progress from where he had started, and the excitement made him shift in his chair. Then he shifted again, wiggling back and forth a few times, struggling to find a comfortable position. His slacks were hugging his waist awkwardly, which he hadn’t noticed before. Ignoring the sensation, Ethan figured he just hadn’t noticed before due to how nervous he had been. The third glass of whiskey he had over the last few games was helping him relax a lot more and enjoy the game.

Billy, silent for most of the games and slowly losing more and more, grabbed his attention. With a sense of deja vu, Ethan was again left flabbergasted by the sudden change of the guy sitting next to him who was definitely not Billy. Gone was the chunky, awkward guy, whose clothes, once ill-fitting, had gone in the opposite direction and had turned baggy on his lean frame. His body had lost the layer of fat that had buried it, revealing skinny arms and a slim face. He no longer looked like that greasy nerd from a few moments ago; now Ethan would say Billy looked leaner than he was. He snapped out of his musing when Billy held a blue chip in front of his eyes.

“I’m backing out dude. I thought I'd give you a little gift on my way.” The stranger, who must have been Billy, handed a chip to Ethan, standing up as he did so. “You’re doing pretty well, but I heard that you’re new here, so I’ll give you a heads up. ” He gestured to the other men remaining, the movement illustrating how different his body was from mere moments ago. “It doesn't seem like anyone has explained to you what they’re betting with here. I would ask before it’s too late.” Holding up his pants slightly so they didn’t fall down, Billy waved and walked toward the exit.

Hearing the sounds of another goodbye behind him, he turned and saw Yu-Jun standing to leave. The suave businessman had also changed drastically. His tailored suit hugged his body as at least twenty extra pounds of pure muscle had attached to his frame. His biceps were as big as grapefruits, and his shoulders were so broad that everyone could see the muscle definition through the material. Arthur shook the guy’s hand before Yu-Jun left, and as he turned he noticed Billy standing to leave as well. Ethan saw his eyes scan the guy’s body, like a wolf discovering a new source of prey. He strode toward the smaller guy and draped his muscular arm around Billy’s diminutive frame; his cocky smirk on full display as he basically corralled Billy toward the exit. As they walked out of the back room, Yu-jun leaned down to whisper something in Billy’s ear as his hand ghosted down to rest possessively on the guy's ass.

Ethan stared at the blue chip he’d been given. He rolled it across his knuckles to collect his chaotic thoughts before placing it in the pile with the rest of his earnings. As he did though, Ethan began to feel a strange sensation in his stomach. At first he thought he had imagined it, but a growing pressure was building up behind his belly button. Looking down, he watched as his shirt began to creep up his stomach that was growing before his eyes. His waistband began digging uncomfortably into the underside of the new roll of flab. The way it bulged over his waistband reminded him ominously of Billy earlier that night. Ethan couldn’t believe his eyes, but when he reached down and grabbed the accumulated fat in each hand, he knew it was real. At a complete loss, he gave it a shake, watching the way his softer body bounced.

What the fuck just happened to me? Ethan’s mind was reeling, trying to comprehend what he had just seen. Nothing strange had preceded the change, the only thing he had done was add the extra chip to—.

It suddenly all clicked into place. The number of chips Ethan had started with, the number feeling vaguely familiar for some reason; the discrepancy between each player's initial totals; the sudden changes he had witnessed the others incur, and the smaller one he had just experienced. Before he’d left, Billy had said he didn’t seem to know what they were betting with, as if it would be anything else besides money. But it was, and suddenly the bartender’s words from earlier took on a completely different meaning: I have a feeling you’re going to win big before the night is over. It wasn’t money they were playing for; it was actual weight.

A deep voice intruded upon his sudden revelation, and Ethan looked up to see Arthur considering him. He inhaled deeply from his cigar, allowing the smoke to trickle from the corners of his lips before he spoke again. “So, did you figure it out, boy?”

The authority of his voice and stature left Ethan no alternative but to nod mutely and accept the bizarre situation he found himself in. Maybe it was the drink that was making him more malleable to the possibility. Maybe it was the way Arthur still had not broken eye contact, making him feel like a mouse being assessed by a lion. The larger man at last looked away and motioned to someone behind Ethan. He rapped his fingers on the tabletop, and the dealer began passing out cards as the bartender slid smoothly next to Ethan’s side. Arthur’s eyes were back on him as the server deftly poured more of that amber whiskey into his glass. “Let me elaborate while we play the next few rounds.”

The four remaining players each grabbed their cards as Arthur continued to speak. “I’m sure Quentin didn’t explain sufficiently when he invited you here tonight. However, I assure you his phrasing wasn’t meant to mislead you. I can tell you’ve realized we’re betting the weight on our bodies during this game, but just like any other game, you can cash it out when the betting is finished. Every ten pounds is ten thousand dollars.” Ethan almost dropped his glass as he had been about to take a drink, eliciting a laugh from Quentin. Arthur simply smiled, “Not a bad deal, is it?”

As he had been listening, the bartender had eased his way to stand directly behind Ethan, resting both hands on his shoulders. Like before, he began to apply pressure and massage Ethan’s wound up muscles, sending waves of electricity through him. The sensation made him relax physically, and he could barely focus on the game as Arthur spoke again. “Of course the money is nice, but some of us here don’t play simply for that. It’s the weight that we’re really after.” He placed his hands on the large expanse of his belly as he said that. “This feeling of being one of the biggest men in the room is simply intoxicating, and then coming here and feeling your clothes shrink before your eyes as you grow even larger. Feeling the fat start to bury you as it envelops your arms and legs, causes your ass to expand, and your gut to swell out in front of you.” Ethan could feel Arthur building up to something important as he lifted his heavy belly and let it thump heavily into his lap. His dress shirt looked basically painted on to the giant orb of lard it contained—it was basically see-through—which Ethan could not help but be enraptured by.

“Then again, getting big isn’t the only thing that we enjoy. Watching other guys come in here and leave twice as large can be pretty arousing too.” As he said that, he reached for the top button of his shirt and undid it. “Let me get a little more comfortable so I can show you what I mean.”

One by one, Arthur undid the buttons on his dress shirt to reveal his monstrous belly. It seemed even bigger now that it had been set free. While the bottom appeared soft and hung agonizingly over the waistband of his pants, the top of his gut was firm and shone in the low lighting. The shelf his belly formed met with his pecs, although they were so soft that his nipples sagged down and formed a deep crease underneath. With his suspenders now framing his chest, Arthur’s pecs were squished together, highlighting his already significant man tits.

He discarded his shirt and gestured to Quentin, who had been watching the entire scene with a devilish grin. Taking the queue, Quentin stood and quickly stripped off his own straining shirt, showing off his new spare tire, though it felt dwarfed by Arthur’s giant mass. Then he began to unbutton and shuffle out of his pants, allowing everyone to see how much his body shook as he worked himself out of the tight material. The jockstrap he wore matched the purple jacket he’d worn earlier, making it seem like he knew this would happen tonight. It was also tight, causing his love handles to flood over the straps. He seemed to have accumulated most of his weight in his lower body: his thighs looked positively doughy with the excess pounds, and the two giant spheres of his ass added to the width of his frame. Obviously reveling in everyone’s stares, he sauntered over to Arthur, draping his arms around the bigger man’s shoulders and playfully squeezing his pillowy tits.

Ethan had not been able to tear his eyes away the entire time, completely enthralled by the men and the constant stimulation of the bartender. Arthur turned his attention to Ethan once again. “So boy, do you like what you see as well? Does it turn you on seeing these fat bodies we’ve earned and grown tonight?” He reached behind him and almost lovingly caressed Quentin’s belly where it hung by his side. In a daze, Ethan could only nod silently again.

A smirk grew on Arthur’s face, as if his confession were some sort of prize to him. He pointed to Angel, whom Ethan had completely forgotten was still present. “That’s exactly how our little Angel used to feel as well.” Little was said in a mocking tone, as Angel had swelled to at least 250 lbs without Ethan even noticing. The quiet man was breathing laboriously as he leaned back in his seat. His body seemed made for taking on weight, spreading across his whole body and making him look absolutely rotund. His neck had been swallowed by a double chin, and his previously baggy polo barely reached down to his belly button. By watching Angel’s gentle ministrations to his belly, he could tell it was extremely soft.

“You and Angel should be at about the same size after that last game,” Arthur said, motioning to Angel to shift seats and sit beside Ethan. The fat boy heaved himself upright, and he pushed his glasses up subconsciously as he waddled to Ethan’s side. He had completely forgotten about their games, but now he saw the dealer holding a yellow chip out for him to reward his playing the past few rounds. Feeling numb, he placed it in his pile, raising his total to two hundred forty-eight. He distantly registered Quentin and Angel getting the other two chips, though only he seemed to have reached a new maximum. At first he was confused why Arthur had said they were the same size. His next words clarified, “Just sit back and look at our little Angel over there, so you can get a sense of what you're in for.”

His chair was turned to face the other man, and similar to before, Ethan began to feel a growing discomfort in his stomach. He gripped his flabby midsection, and felt as new fat began to fill him from the inside. In a matter of seconds he had grown a proper beer belly, the additional weight straining his shirt. Unlike last time, however, fat also began forming across other areas as well. He stared at the mirror image of Angel as his chest puffed up and fat crept under his armpits, forcing his arms to rise and somewhat hug his frame. Ethan could see the chubby face he now felt on his own, and Ethan caught the glint of delight in Angel’s eyes as he watched. The discomfort of his pants digging into his belly was becoming unbearable, and as his thighs were barraged by the onslaught of fat as well, he feared his pants might fray and burst apart. Especially his rear, which had completely filled his seat, was threatening to break out.

The other men watched Ethan’s body grow with rapt attention. The bartender had stepped back as the changes had wracked through his body, but now leaned close to his ear. “Let’s give these heavyweights what they want, shall we?”

At first, Ethan didn’t understand. But as he was turned back towards the others, hands reached down to the hem of his tight shirt, and he allowed his arms to rise and his shirt to be pulled off. The fabric brushing against his enlarged nipples stole a slight moan from his lips. Now shirtless, he gazed down at his belly as the bartender set to work kneading the excess fat. Bright red marks zigzagged down his sides, and Ethan had the sudden image of being like a dumpling stuffed to the brim in its packaging.

In his drunken state, Ethan simply sat there for a while and took in the events as they unfolded in front of him. As his belly was fondled from behind, Angel also began squeezing his own fat, causing his shirt to ride up even higher. Two more chairs were brought over to them, and Arthur sat heavily in one of them. The other seemed to be for Quentin, but the eccentric man instead perched on the other man’s leg. Their bellies squished together deliciously as Quentin leaned into Arthur, kissing him deeply and feeling up his body. Arthur responded by grabbing the man’s bulbous rear and pulling him in closer; the movement showcasing Quentin to the other two.

When they parted, Arthur grinned before clicking his fingers at the bartender, who had still been groping Ethan. Like a conductor directing his band, the employee instantly ceased, rushing around the group and giving each of them a glass of clear liquid. Once all four men had a drink in his hand, Arthur raised his glass for a toast, “To new friends, well-played games, and all we gained tonight!” Everyone cheered and downed the strong drink, before succumbing to the debauchery around them.

It was clear that Arthur was in complete control of the night. After all, that was why Ethan had been instantly intrigued by him when he’d laid eyes on his massive figure. With an outstretched hand, he was able to convey his desires, receiving a new cigar without a single word. A glance at Angel saw him remove his shirt completely, finally allowing the others to appreciate his girth. Quentin decided to take his seat and sidled up to the Mexican man’s side. He whispered something Ethan couldn’t hear, but the message was clear as he wrapped an arm around Angel’s waist, grabbing handfuls of fat as the guy groaned in pleasure.

Turning back to Arthur, the man seemed to decide Ethan had been a spectator long enough. Those puppeteer hands beckoned him silently, bringing him into his sphere of power. Arthur placed a hand on the front of Ethan’s gut, his meaty hands exuding warmth as he traced slow circles around its circumference.

“Did you gain everything that you imagined, boy?” Before Ethan could even answer, Arthur took a long drag on his cigar. He firmly grabbed Ethan’s chin and drew him in, locking lips with him and letting the accumulated smoke overwhelm his senses. Ethan instantly grew lightheaded, both from the kiss and the high of the smoke. Arthur repeated the exchange, only pulling back at the last second to let the last remnants of the smoke wash over Ethan’s face. When it was clear, Ethan looked to see Arthur’s eyes on him. “You may have acknowledged that you liked all of this,” he said, gesturing at his exposed body, “now it’s time you showed us how much.”

Fully under his spell, Ethan allowed himself to finally let go, diving down towards Arthur’s enormous belly. He realized as his face met the warm expanse of flesh that this was what he’d wanted from the beginning. From afar, it was simply impossible to fully appreciate how large Arthur was. Ethan kissed the furthest part of his belly, realizing that it surged out so far Arthur physically could not reach this part of his body anymore. That idea turned him on even more, and he pressed himself further into the obese man, sinking into his body. Short hair tickled his nose as he roamed across Arthur’s gut, planting kisses wherever he went.

His movements also made it clear how much his own body had changed. Leaning forward so much, Ethan could feel his belly straining painfully against his pants. Refusing to pull away, he reached desperately to unbutton his pants, but the mass of his own fat obscured the buttons.

Arthur must have noticed the movement, because when he separated from the man, the bartender had appeared again by their side. He coyly pushed Ethan to lean back and suck in his gut, allowing him to kneel down and reach between his legs to undo his suffering pants. Ethan felt instant relief as the button was freed and he breathed out heavily, not realizing that his belly had been held back so much. It flooded forward several inches to push against the bartender’s head, whose eyes rose to stare with obvious lust at his doughy middle. But he seemed to retain his composure and simply took Ethan’s pants off fully, stepping aside for Arthur to access him again.

The two fat men kissed passionately, and Arthur grabbed Ethan by the budding love handles he’d acquired. “I knew we’d found a keeper as soon as you walked in.” He took a deep breath and jiggled Ethan’s belly, watching the new fat bounce and ripple across his whole body. “I got a way of sensing these types of things. You can try to fight it if you want, but you’re nothing but a fat boy now.” He reached up and caressed both of Ethan’s nipples. They had become larger and more pointed, and just like before the stimulation to them elicited a deep moan from the smaller guy. “Cash all this weight out, but you’ll be back. Just like the rest of us, it’s not about the money anymore.” He pushed Ethan down to suck on his nipple, sighing as his tongue darted hungrily around it. “All we want is to be fat.”

As Arthur said it out loud, he knew in his heart that he did want to be this fat—no, even bigger—for the rest of his life. He imagined himself getting to be as big as Arthur: expanding out in all directions, having to widen his stance whenever he stood or even sat to accommodate his gigantic belly, losing definition all over his body as his arms, legs, and even his face got swallowed with lard. Maybe he would cash out fifty pounds or so tonight, but he would always keep a little paunch for him to play with. Over time, he might even start these games as large as Arthur did. The thought instantly got him hard, and he grabbed a chunk of his own blubber in excitement. Arthur was right, it wasn’t just about getting fatter; he looked at the three gorgeous butterballs around him and felt like he might swoon. Who else might eventually wander through that velvet curtain?

“I think you might have found yourself a regular,” Ethan agreed, tickling Arthur’s chubby cheek playfully. He glanced over at Quentin and Angel, the former of whom was behind the other and devilishly bouncing his belly while kissing his neck. They both looked up at his words and nodded in acquiescence, obviously turned on by everything as well. “Although, I might give you a run for your money one day, big guy.” He compared his belly next to Arthur’s: smaller for now, but it was only his first night. “I have a good feeling that I’ll grow into this.”

The four men lost themselves to pleasure the rest of the night. The jumbled dings and sounds of slot machines and rolled dice filled the air outside the room, masking their moans of pleasure and indulgence. When they finally exited that room, no one but the grinning employee at the partition knew what had just happened that night. Ethan cradled two blue checkered disks in his hand as he left: the number 10 etched into the center of both. Though they were small, he knew they were by no means insignificant. They were an investment into his future.

#wg fiction #gay gainer #sudden weight gain #gay bears #male transformation #male weight gain

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