chunkylechonk

[chunkylechonk]

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. 

[chunkylechonk]

A Bear’s Brew

Jeff stumbled through the doorway and onto the sidewalk, giggling to himself as his shoes hit the pavement. It may have been the alcohol, but the bouncer standing in front of the door looked angrier than when he had walked in an hour ago. People didn’t usually glare at him like that. And the guy was standing basically on top of his identical twin. Jeff squinted his eyes, the world realigning briefly. Yep, definitely the alcohol. Another faint laugh escaped his lips.

    It was a normal Friday night, and Jeff and his friends had decided, unsurprisingly, to go bar-hopping on Santa Monica Boulevard. The group of young guys and girls had blown into the first club on the street, already fairly tipsy on homemade margaritas. In their late twenties, and in the best shape of their lives, the guys entered the club reveling in the eyes that turned to stare at them with overt desire. Each one of them was tanned, toned, and tight; their muscles and round glutes wrapped in tiny shorts that only drew more attention to their asses. In fact, it seemed like the guys were competing to wear the least amount of clothes possible. One of Jeff’s friends, a shorter Mexican guy named Ty, was wearing a bright pink crop top that put his abs on full display. Then there were the twins, Hunter and Cam, whose jeans had so many rips in them they barely counted as pants anymore. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Jeff was often jealous of the attention the brothers got, or rather, that they drew away from him. He’d hooked up with both a few times, and they were fun for a while. However, he considered himself the full package. 

Jeff had come in one of his favorite tank tops, hoping to attract attention to all of his hard work in the gym. His arms had grown over the past couple months, and his shoulders had broadened noticeably. Because of that, his shirt pulled perfectly tight across his chest, showing his pumped muscles to all the men in the club. His shorts cut-off halfway down his thighs, each leg also pushing against the confines of his fabric. Everything fit perfectly. He’d styled his hair just so, appearing disheveled when in reality he had spent twenty minutes framing his face just right. So what if he wasn’t a blonde, toned, cardboard cut-out like the matching set over there. Jeff could have any guy on this whole street. 

It was at their third stop of the night that trouble occurred. Happily plastered, Jeff had caught the eye of a seemingly tipsy and similarly muscular guy sitting a few seats down the bar. He was alone, casually swirling a finger around the rim of his glass, and Jeff thought his whole casual outfit look was cute. He was just wearing a patterned white shirt and jeans, but Jeff was already imagining stripping all that off with lust. 

Standing unsteadily, he invited the guy out onto the dance floor with him. From there, it didn’t take long before the two men were grinding up against each other. A few more songs, and then they were fully making out in the corner of the club. Jeff had known this guy wasn’t so innocent, both his hands immediately grabbing Jeff’s ass and appreciating how muscular and round it was. Without removing his lips from the guy’s, Jeff reached between them and began unbuttoning the guy’s pants. The alcohol was definitely clouding his judgement. It didn’t matter that they were in public; he wanted him now. 

   Just as his hand was reaching down the guy’s underwear, a strong pair of hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards. Trying to twist around, Jeff could barely see the face of the security guard that had cock-blocked him. His face wouldn’t be described as angry, but he certainly looked annoyed. The vein on his temple stood out prominently. Lifting him up in the air, surprising Jeff with his strength, the security guard began to drag him towards the front door. As his feet brushed the floor, Jeff glanced back for his hookup. But the guy had already vanished, not even trying to help him out. 

Cursing the memory and his bad luck, Jeff kicked at the ground dejectedly as he slowly began to trudge down the boulevard. His sour mood had caused the fountain of faint chuckles escaping his lips to dry up, and his head was beginning to clear. The rest of his friends were nowhere to be found and Jeff would be damned if he had to beg the fucking security to go find one of them. Besides, they would all jeer at his situation, each of them probably already finding their catch for the night. Jeff didn’t want to see the self-righteous pity in their eyes; he was the hottest one out of all of them by a mile. He smiled glumly at his own reassurance, kicking at the pavement again. 

He must have been more intoxicated than he realized, his foot catching on the ground, causing him to buck forward, swinging his arms wildly to prevent a nosedive with the concrete. Looking around, it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed. Where he had paused, the glare of neon lights assaulted the side of his face, and Jeff turned to look at the bar he had coincidentally stopped in front of. 

The front of the building wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye; a few bar tables spread around like most of the other bars tended to do. The windows were tinted heavily to prevent casual pedestrians from seeing inside, and dark canopies made of black fabric jutted out above them. If he had been asked, Jeff wouldn’t even have guessed the drab, brick building was a bar. The only indication was the glowing sign that had grabbed his attention. In garish blue and green neon lights, a bear was depicted lying on what Jeff guessed was supposed to be some kind of bean bag chair. Little Z’s floated above the sleeping bear, who was dressed in a cliché pajama outfit and hat. Then, the lights changed and the bear was awake, sitting up from his chair. Then once again, the bear changed to having its hand raised, as if it was waving at patrons as they came in. Jeff watched, transfixed as the lights flickered on and off to create this illusion. Even when he finally looked away, the outline of the waving bear still felt branded across wherever he looked. Next to the picture was the name of the bar, in the same gaudy neon as before: The Hibernation Lounge.  

Jeff stood outside, weighing his options. For one, he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and people were beginning to bump into him as his stationary position acted like a dam against the flow of people. Also, the fact that there were no people lounging outside the bar somehow made Jeff feel uneasy. There was no music leaking out from inside either. But he was already bored, and still feeling horny from his run-in at the last bar. Hoping for a drink and possibly a new casual hookup, Jeff stepped forward and pushed open the door.  

The interior of the bar was dimly lit by industrial steel chandeliers. Each lightbulb hung naked from various offshoots surrounding the center pillar. They illuminated the top level where Jeff had stepped onto, more bar tables and patrons spread around the bar to his left. To his right, a railing separated an open area a few steps lower than where he was now, which he assumed was intended as a dance floor. Faint music pumped through the floorboards, the upbeat tempo melding into the constant noise of various different conversations blending together. Jeff took in his new environment in slight bewilderment. The atmosphere felt like a 20th century speakeasy, the air carrying the scent of sweat, cedarwood, and a sweeter fragrance that he couldn’t quite place. As soon as he tried to place it, the musk of all the gathered men clustered around the small space wafted over him. His dick instantly grew a little hard as he surveyed his possible prey.

Unsure of where to go, Jeff heard the door open behind him and felt the accompanying rush of hot air from the street, and then something much more solid. It pressed against the small of his back, startling him and causing him to take a few quick steps forward. Spinning around quickly, Jeff found himself looking at the large guy who had just walked through the door. The guy was a few inches taller than Jeff, but the even greater difference between them was the guy’s gut that stuck out in front of him. It bulged out well in front of him; the underside of his belly hung down and covered part of the faded jeans he had on. But that wasn't all; a leather harness was wrapped around his chest, strapped comically across the pair of man boobs the guy was sporting. It made each mound of fat even larger, reminding Jeff of a trussed pig. The idea was only cemented by the fact that the newcomer appeared to be smooth and hairless. Jeff tried to stifle a laugh: he couldn’t decide rather to snicker or gag. 

“Hey fatso, watch where you shove that thing.” Jeff said, reaching forward and jiggling the underside of the dude’s belly a few times. The newcomer quickly stepped out of Jeff’s abrasive reach, skirting around him to safely make it deeper into the bar. He put his hand protectively on his belly, which was still wobbling slightly at the bottom. 

“What the hell man? It’s not my fault you were standing right in front of the door,” he responded defensively. 

Jeff made sure his face showed how disgusted he was with the guy’s flab. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you take up as much space as three people. Someone should put a bell on you, so people know when to run and take cover.” Before the guy could say anymore, Jeff began walking deeper into the room, throwing a final comment over his shoulder as he strutted away. “You should be embarrassed, you pig.”

He was still laughing as he sat down on a stool at the bar, the exchange with the fatty stroking his already bloated ego. If that was his competition tonight, he was guaranteed to get laid, no problem. Who would pick someone like him over a guy like me? Jeff thought about it with amusement as the bartender began walking over to him. He puffed up his chest a little, cockier than he had been before walking in a few minutes earlier. 

His eyes briefly brushed across the old-fashioned barrels set into the wall, dominating the faucets with their shining brand names ready to pour out their choice drink. Before he could read any of them, the bartender blocked his view, leaning casually against the bar. He cocked one eyebrow quizzically, meeting Jeff’s smirk with measured disinterest. 

“Not gonna ask what I want to drink, dude?” Jeff finally asked, his previous bravado quickly being replaced by irritation. It was just one problem after another with this place. 

The guy’s eyes flickered past him for a moment, seemingly looking at something or someone else. “The name’s Travis, not dude. Got a problem with bigger guys, huh?” he responded, completely ignoring Jeff’s question. It threw Jeff off, and it took him a second to realize the guy must have heard the little chat he’d had at the front door. 

“That pig over there? I’m surprised you let people in here looking like that. Not drunk enough to put up with those things.”

Now Travis’ eyes were completely trained on Jeff, unnerving with how dark they were, the rich brown almost blending into the iris due to the low lighting. “What, you think you’re better than him?”

Again, Jeff couldn’t help but laugh. “Dude, look at me!” he scooted his chair back slightly and lifted his shirt, putting his abs on full display. No doubt Travis was impressed, and Jeff threw in a wink at the guy. “It’s not even a competition.”

“So it’s all about looks, huh?” 

“C’mon bro, I’m the hottest guy in this place.”

“ The most arrogant, I’ll give you that.” 

“I‘ll prove it to you if you want.”

Another pause. “So what’ll it be tonight?” Travis asked, missing or ignoring Jeff’s not so subtle implications. It was still early in the night. 

Immediately, Jeff’s attention was drawn towards the large barrels that adorned the wall. Although he wasn’t usually much of a beer guy, there was something intriguing about them he couldn’t ignore. That sweet scent he had detected earlier wafted cloyingly past his nose. Coming to a decision, he gestured at the barrels. “Just get me the best beer you got here. Something to make up for that disgusting greeting I got at your door.”

Travis leveled another long stare at Jeff, but still moved to get the drink. The guy had a cute face, probably in his early thirties if Jeff had to take a guess. He really liked the style he had chosen for his beard, which was full-grown, accentuated by his moustache that curled at both tips. His hair was blonde, with streaks of a darker brown running through it like chocolate in a vein of caramel. He was totally Jeff’s type, both in age and appearance. Now that Travis has moved away from the bar, Jeff wanted to size up the rest of his body. He was lucky that it seemed this bar encouraged a “shirts off” uniform for its staff. The clear rebuff his casual flirting had received wouldn’t deter him yet, and he was sure by the end of the night he could win him over. 

However, Jeff hadn’t noticed before that his bartender was carrying some extra weight on him. While his upper body had mostly been spared, the same couldn’t be said for his lower half. Jeff’s eyes trailed down, noting the doughy pecs and substantial paunch. It was like the guy’s belly had been pumped full of pudding, jutting out a few inches over his waistband, but still soft, judging by the way his belt dug into the underside of it. He turned around with a big tankard of frothy beer, and Jeff could see that his ass stuck out even more than his belly. What the fuck, Jeff protested silently. This was the second fatty today. He was starting to figure out he had wandered into the wrong bar, and wished he had paid a little more attention to the other people here. Maybe then he could have saved himself this massive waste of time. 

The thud of his cup being placed in front of him roused him from his sulking. “Here ya go, big guy. This is our famous Bear’s Brew. Guaranteed to change your life and make this the best night you’ve ever had.”

Jeff scowled, trying to pick up his drink without all the excess foam drenching him in a sticky mess. “Thanks. Should look in the mirror before you go calling other people big though.”

Raising it to his lips, Jeff took a long draft of the rich, dark liquid. His nose was met with that sickly sweet scent he’d detected ever since he walked inside, compounded by the beer’s taste, which was even sweeter if that was possible. However, Jeff noted a slight, subtle smokey aftertaste that caused his throat to tingle. He quite liked the feeling and decided to take another long drink, quaffing the entire pint before he had even realized. Contrary to his earlier assertion of not being a beer guy, the beer had been one of the best drinks he’d ever had. Without thinking, he slammed the cup down in front of the bartender. “I’ll have another!”

Travis took it and began to fill Jeff’s drink without a fuss, perhaps impressed by his drinking prowess. Jeff grinned to himself, enjoying the tingling feeling that had continued to spread down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. But as it settled in his stomach, a sudden cramp seized Jeff out of nowhere and wrung his insides like a wet towel. Against his will, Jeff doubled over, a low moan escaping from between his lips. He clutched at his stomach, which felt different somehow. Before he could investigate, another wave of pain consumed him, and Travis walked around the bar to his side. 

“Hey baby, are you okay?” Jeff could hear the genuine concern in his voice, which partially surprised him considering how they had just been talking to each other. He couldn’t answer, his teeth clenched tight against the painful sounds threatening to burst from his mouth. He didn’t want the whole bar to see him and embarrass himself. 

Travis was standing slightly behind him; a comforting hand resting on his back. “Why don’t you come with me to the back room? Maybe you’ll feel better in a less crowded space.”

Jeff couldn’t argue with that, and he allowed himself to be led behind the bar to what he assumed was both the storage and break room for the workers. He spotted lockers against the far wall, and a shelf of extra bottles and other inventory in boxes adjacent to that. Shambling into the room, Jeff was led to a lawn chair in the corner. Easing down into it, Jeff tried his best to lean back and give his cramping stomach some more room. He rolled up the bottom of his shirt, gaining better access to ease his stomach pain. Looking down at himself however, he noticed again that something was definitely wrong. 

His stomach looked severely bloated, creating a round, bowed-out shape that he had never seen before. Jeff stared at his body incredulously. He lifted a finger to poke his stomach and was shocked when his finger sank in a few inches. Did that mean that this was fat? That wasn’t possible; he had abs just a few minutes ago. As he had that thought, a loud burp erupted from his throat, catching him completely off guard. To his horror, Jeff could’ve sworn that he saw his belly surge outward another inch.

This whole time, Travis had been standing in front of Jeff as he struggled in his chair. His gaze rested on the little paunch sticking out over his customer’s waistband, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Dang baby, that’s a nice beer gut you’ve got going there.”

Jeff glared up at Travis, the effect undercut as he let out another burp. “Cut the crap man. What the hell did you do to me?”

“Not sure what you mean, sweetie. You don’t get a nice gut and love handles like that overnight.”

At first Jeff was confused, but as his hands slipped down to his sides he discovered two handfuls of flab. The pain in his stomach had begun to subside as he pinched the fat in disbelief, and he sat up to gaze fully at his body. The curve of his new belly was even more apparent after he changed positions. What was worse, Jeff also noticed his pecs, which had taken on a more pointed and soft shape that was noticeable even under his tank top. Fully taking off his shirt, Jeff slowly raised his hand to touch one of his nipples. Touching the sensitive area, he almost let out an involuntary moan as a shiver ran through his body. This couldn't be real: Jeff had trained so hard to attain his perfect, muscular physique. It was getting harder to think back, and Jeff’s brain was having trouble focusing through a haze that had begun to envelop him. This wasn’t who he was, right?

Lost in his confused state, Jeff hadn’t noticed that Travis had left the room until he heard him walk back into the room. Glancing up, he saw the blonde bartender holding the second pint of beer he had asked for earlier. Moving deliberately, Jeff watched him walk behind the chair, kneeling down so that his lips were mere inches from Jeff’s ear. “You asked for another, remember? I didn’t take you as a guy who lets good beer go to waste.” Almost as if to respond to the whispered statement, Jeff let out another burp. Some part of his brain tried to reclaim control, screaming that this was all wrong. Travis simply held the beer in front of him, holding it slightly on top of Jeff’s new belly. 

The dark brew immediately grabbed his attention as the cloying aroma drifted lazily towards him, dominating all his senses. Jeff took the cup in both hands as his stomach rumbled, before lifting it up to his lips. Once again, that sweet scent and wonderful taste attacked him like a typhoon. The tingling he had noted earlier spread faster than before, but Jeff didn’t even try to track where it flowed. All he wanted was to drink more, oblivious as his body began to change even more. 

His stomach began to fill out with even more fat, and the bottom of his belly began to creep forward into his lap. Subconsciously, Jeff spread his legs wider, to accommodate the growing mass he was carrying on his middle. But there was no space between his thighs, which had also begun to be affected by his sudden transformation. His shorts had already been tight but now looked painted on due to their struggle containing his expanding body. However, his upper body was experiencing similar changes, his pecs now fully in the territory of being called boobs. They sagged down and sat heavily on the crest of his belly. Each of his nipples had grown in diameter, and the spreading fat, finding no more room on his chest, began to spread around his torso and under his arms. Jeff had raised his cup higher, leaning his head backward as if he couldn’t get the drink into his mouth fast enough. Both arms looked much less defined. The muscles he had worked so hard to cultivate had already been swallowed by thick layers of fat, adding even more mass to his frame. 

Finishing the last gulp of the beer, Jeff dropped the cup to his lap and sat gasping for air. He was in a daze: beer dripping off his face and trickling down the curve of his gut after his drinking frenzy. He felt Travis put his hands on his large belly from behind, beginning to slowly rub and poke the blubber he had suddenly amassed. A warm feeling radiated from where Travis’ hands traced gently circles across his body, but that could have just been the alcohol doing its work. 

Forgetting what had happened last time, a sudden pain sprouted from his belly. Jeff dropped his cup to clutch his stomach, coming back to reality a little when his hands met with the new beer belly he had. His hands had coincidentally landed right on top of Travis’, showing the contrast between the size of their hands. Even his fingers had gained a little extra size, completely covering the bartender’s more slender hands. 

Travis moved both their hands in unison, slowly massaging Jeff’s aching belly. He leaned closer into Jeff’s back, whispering in his ear again. “Did you like that, baby? Did you like that feeling as you let go? The feeling of becoming a big, greedy pig.” 

Jeff moaned, he told himself, because of the pain still radiating from his insides. What this guy was saying didn’t seem right. Jeff knew that something was wrong with this, but when he tried to grab at the thought, that sweet smell washed it away. Already, the thought of more beer sounded so good. Maybe Travis was right; maybe he was a little greedy. After all, he had the plump body to prove it. 

Grabbing the underside of his belly, Travis continued. “Look at the jiggle of this gut. Aren’t you embarrassed, walking around like this?” He dropped it heavily into Jeff’s lap, delighting at the meaty smack the fat called as it hit his legs. “Of course not, I know you like being this big. That you want to get even bigger. That bigger men turn you on more than anything else.” His hands led up to Jeff’s chest, gripping the two lumps of dough tightly. “You have bigger tits than most guys in here baby. And I know you want to show it off for me, don’t you?” Jeff nodded his head, the movement releasing another burp from his mouth. Travis smiled, standing up and walking around to stand in front of Jeff. 

“Get up, piggy.” Jeff’s mind rebelled against that name for a moment, but it was fleeting. He leaned forward, struggling to get up out of the chair. Finally hoisting his hefty frame up, Jeff straightened out, only to hear a small ping on the ground near his feet. Before he could look, Travis laughed, bending down and coming back up with a small, brass button in his palm. Jeff was mortified, realizing that he had popped the button off his shorts. 

“Not that surprising. I’m more surprised you squeezed your fat ass in those to begin with.” Travis chuckled. He grabbed Jeff by his lower belly and guided him a few steps into the center of the storage room. “Take off your shorts and wait there while I go get something for you,” he ordered.

Jeff watched him walk out of the room, noticing for the first time how Travis’ whole body bounced a little as he walked. Shimmying out of the skin-tight shorts, Jeff pondered the image. Glancing down at his own body, he gave a little bounce and watched his own body shake; an exaggerated version of Travis. Instantly, Jeff felt a hard-on forming in his underwear, which he realized he couldn’t actually see past the vast expanse of his belly. 

Travis walked in as Jeff was still playing with his body, holding yet another foaming glass of that addicting beer. He stopped in the doorway and just grinned, soaking in the sight before him. Jeff had to be at least 250 lbs of pure horny bear, getting himself off on his own beefy body, wearing nothing but a light blue jockstrap. A much needed improvement from the guy who had walked in here an hour ago. 

“Hey pig, I could tell you wanted some more beer.” Travis walked towards Jeff and patted his belly affectionately. “I think this tank still has some room for growing, don’t you?”

Taking the cup, Jeff blushed as he realized Travis had seen him jiggling his new fat body. But again the smell of the beer wafted towards his nose, tempting him to just let go of all his worries. He let a sly smile creep across his face, one hand resting on his belly. “I might have a bit more room.” He glanced at Travis’ sexy form in front of him. “Since I have such a hot guy here to motivate me.”

Again, Jeff drained the dark beer, and each time it tasted better than the last. Setting the glass down, Jeff melted into Travis who had been watching him with obvious lust. Both men felt the other’s belly, and Jeff marveled at how plush Travis’ little muffin top was. He was so turned on, and pressed closer to the man, which allowed Travis to feel as Jeff’s body changed, as well as watch it. 

Jeff’s belly had largely maintained a rounded shape, but with his third pint was now beginning to sag over his jockstrap. Travis let his hands roam freely across the behemoth, feeling coarse brown hair growing in quickly. Within moments, a light carpet of fur had covered Jeff’s belly, growing in thicker across his chest. As he wiped the traces of foam from around his mouth, a thick handlebar mustache appeared, connecting with the beard that had grown to hide Jeff’s double chin. The mess of curls on his head had receded, leaving behind only a short buzz cut. 

His stance had become much wider, and yet his thighs still touched halfway to his knees. Travis pulled the big man closer and hugged him, feeling two things at the same time: the fat roll that had begun to develop even on Jeff’s back, and the tiny dick that was rubbing desperately against his own. Travis explored Jeff’s enormous ass, each buttcheek made even rounder because of the straps molding them into perfect shape. By this point, he must have been about 300 lbs, and Travis couldn’t contain himself any longer. 

Grabbing his ass so tightly that Jeff gasped, Travis leaned back to look at his cherubic face. “You’ve been a good piggy tonight, haven’t you?” He took one hand and stuck his finger into Jeff’s deep belly button, twisting it around as he jiggled the man’s giant belly. “Grown so big and sexy for me. Drank everything I gave you, just like you should. But now I want you to do something more for me.” Travis leaned up against Jeff, their bellies right on top of the other, faces inches apart. He could see Jeff shaking, he was so aroused. “I want you to tell me how much of a fat slob you are, baby.” He took Jeff’s hands from where they rested on his stomach and placed them on his own. “Tell me that you’re a pig.”

After the last word, Travis moved those last few inches and kissed Jeff. The big man reacted in kind, the lingering taste of beer present in his mouth. Their kiss became more passionate as Travis felt Jeff's stomach begin to churn, and he pressed heavily against the furthest point of his giant belly. He pulled back just enough to whisper, “Let it out baby.”

It was all too much for Jeff. Feeling the build up of tension, he fought to take in air and let out a burp as sweet and thick as molasses. “I’m a pig!” He burped again, excited as he heard his voice say the words out loud. “I’m your hungry, fat pig!” he exclaimed. 

The two men renewed their kiss as the last dredges of who Jeff used to be slipped away with that final confession. Memories of him and his boyfriend filled his brain; he had grown up chunky, but had ballooned after meeting Travis. Those late nights stuffing him full of pizza and other delicious treats, images of torn fabric and busted seams, and every kinky moment they shared as his weight continued to climb, all flooded his mind and engrained themselves in him. He loved the taste of beer, and he loved the looks he got after he had packed away ten or twelve bottles. But he loved most was that warm feeling that came afterward, and the sensation on Travis’ hands caressing his beer gut, like he was doing now. Nothing remained of the Jeff who had walked into The Hibernation Lounge earlier that night. This was who he had always been. 

———

“Babe, can you bring me another beer? Oh, and maybe another plate of the Buffalo wings.” 

Jeff stuck out his bottom lip, which lost its intended, innocent effect due to his choice of attire. He was wearing a pair of pink beach shorts, which were a size too small, and a tight black tank top with the silhouette of a pig’s head stitched onto the pocket. The shorts made his substantial belly stick out considerably, and it shook back and forth as Jeff danced in the bar his boyfriend worked at. It made him hard knowing that people were looking at him, and a few of their friends that were with him tonight loved dancing and getting close to Jeff. Not that he had eyes for anyone other than Travis, but sometimes a hand to help him eat his wings was nice. 

As if manifesting them, Travis appeared behind him and placed his drink and food on their side table. He kissed Jeff quickly, patting his ample bottom butt coyly. But before Jeff could respond or eat his food, movement from the entrance of the bar caught his attention. 

A bear he had never seen before walked into the bar, but his belly entered a good two seconds before he did. Jeff was enraptured as this beautiful belly, which was as big as a beach ball and tight as a drum, was carried in by the frame of the guy following it. His back was arched to carry his prize, and yet it was palpable the amount of swagger the guy had. Jeff took in the dark jeans and leather vest, which hung uselessly on either side of that giant gut, as the guy made his way through the crowd of men already there. As he crossed the dance floor, he turned and made eye contact with Jeff. The quick look he gave Jeff made him quiver, and the wink he sent his way instantly gave him a semi. Unable to move, he watched as the mystery man walked up to a door in the back that Jeff had never noticed before. It was hidden slightly behind a curtain and a booth in the corner, with a burly security guard standing there. The guard opened the door for the man, who strutted right in without slowing for a moment. Just like that, the power the man’s presence had over him was broken, and Jeff turned to look at Travis. 

“Who was that? Where is he going back there?” He felt breathless as he glanced back to the door. 

Travis laughed as he grabbed his lover’s belly, which suddenly seemed tiny after what Jeff had just seen. He turned him away from the door and smiled. He was holding his bottle of beer in hand. “That back there is called The Den, and it's only for our biggest guests. If you want to get back there,” he raised the bottle to Jeff’s lips, “then you gotta keep growing, pig.”

[chunkylechonk]

My Big Roommates (Part 2)

Antonio let out a heavy sigh, climbing up the stairs to his second floor apartment. It had been a long day. Working at one of the best French restaurants in town sounded like a dream to most, but behind those swinging kitchen doors was more like a nightmare. The head chef had been on everyone more than recently, demanding perfection, having set out to earn another star for their restaurant. Several of the chefs secretly joked that the boss had his wooden spoon up his ass. The longer he worked there, the more Antonio’s stress grew, although it paid extremely well. Also, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, it had also caused his waistline to grow pretty substantially too. When he was stressed, he ate. Tonight alone, he had eaten an entire bowl of their famous capellini, some calamari a customer hadn’t liked, a tiramisu and a slice of cheesecake, along with however many of the complementary breadsticks he’d snacked on almost subconsciously. They were free for the customers, why not him? His stomach hurt as he reached the landing of the apartment, either from the dairy or the volume of the food, he wasn't sure. 

He had taken off his chef’s jacket in the car, but Antonio was conscious of the tightness beginning to develop in his pants. He thought it wasn't that noticeable under his uniform, until his boss had made a snide comment. The smirk on his face when he had remarked about “smuggling food in his jacket” had left Antonio mortified, as well as the smack his growing belly had received. His overeating was supposed to be a secret; right now Antonio wasn’t confident eating copious amounts in public like his roommate Peter. 

Pulling his key out of his pocket, Antonio expected the living room to be empty, or at the very least Peter passed out on the couch. What he hadn’t expected, at all, was finding Sam and Peter half naked on the couch and making out. They both noticed him as their mouths parted, Sam at least having the decency to look embarrassed as he shifted off of Peter’s lap. He looked extremely out of breath and winced as he moved. 

“Hey pal, how was work?” Peter asked, still smiling and looking completely at ease. Even though he was sitting there in his underwear.

Where was he even supposed to start here? “Um…it was fine?” Finding Peter in his underwear and still fairly drunk wouldn’t have been that strange, it actually would have been fairly common. But the addition of Sam, who usually was asleep by now, was really throwing Antonio off. Their newest roommate looked like he was struggling, and Antonio finally noticed how enlarged his belly was, like someone had filled it with air. It stuck out into his lap as he subtly rubbed slow circles across the stretched expanse. Noting the giant fast-food bag and wrappers left on the floor began to give him a good idea of what was going on. “What are you guys up to?”

He looked at Sam, who was still focusing on breathing. There was a trace of ketchup at the corner of his mouth. 

Peter began to hoist himself up, his belly hanging as he leaned forward. He also looked stuffed full, but was moving easier after his break while feeding Sam. He stood up and stretched his arms wide, yawning before a burp escaped close behind the former. The giant still had a smile on his face as he scratched his belly contentedly. Walking around the table, Peter came up beside Antonio and threw his arm over his shoulder, weighing him down with his massive size. “Sammy and I were just having a late-night snack.” Peter said, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. The alcohol on his breath was strong, causing Antonio to wrinkle his nose. The big man’s girth so close to him made him squirm a little.

“Looks like more than a snack.” Antonio stated, surveying the empty bag of food and the condition of his roommates. His face must have shown his utter bafflement.

Sam finally mustered the strength to speak. “We’re sorry Antonio. They, they uh, accidentally gave us so much food, and then things got, huff, a little out of hand—.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Peter interjected. “I’m sure Tony understands. I bet he was just caught off guard. After all, this is more of a hobby that the two of us do together.”

Both Antonio and Sam gave shouts of surprise, surprised by what Peter had said. Sam’s head turned from one of his roommate’s to the other, thinking he had misheard. The two of them did stuff like this? Hobby as in overeating, or was it even more than that? Judging by the heat rising to Antonio’s cheeks, he surmised that it had to be true. So the two of them had also stuffed each other, but had that been happening since he’d arrived, and he just had never heard?

Antonio whirled away from Peter, throwing his arm off him angrily. “Why did you tell him that?” he said, gesturing towards Sam. 

“Haha sorry.” Peter was so unfazed by everything Antonio wanted to punch him in the face. But wasn’t that also what had drawn him to Peter in the first place? His calm and easy confidence, and the way he had worshipped his body while they—. “Maybe I’m still drunk.” Peter said. “I thought all three of us could have some fun together now. Since this,” waving at the litter on the floor, “is all out in the open.”

He moved back towards Antonio, who involuntarily took a half step back. Patting him on the shoulder to calm him down, Peter circled him until he was standing right behind him. Try as he might, Antonio couldn’t see what Peter was up to. Slowly, he leaned against Antonio’s back, his large belly swelling forward to fit into the curve of the other’s back. His hands slithered lightly around Antonio’s waist and caressed his stomach gently. That sent a shiver down his spine; a small breath he hadn’t realised he was holding escaping his lips. When Peter grabbed his stomach even more firmly, the shiver he’d felt before became a shock of lighting shooting through him. His objections at what was happening slowly began to melt away under the strong touch of his roommate.  

Sam’s eyes were riveted to the hot men standing in front of him. His dick had gone soft when Antonio had walked through the door and discovered them. But once again, the sight his big roommates in front of him was giving him a boner. Peter made eye contact with him from behind Antonio’s shoulder, grinning at his obvious lust. 

“Sammy likes watching a big man eat.” Peter whispered in Antonio’s ear. As he said that, he untucked the bottom of Antonio’s shirt to release his belly. Freed from the tight white shirt, his belly flopped out and over his waistband. Peter pinched the flab sweetly. “And you’re a big man, aren’t you Tony?”

 With his clothes on, most people wouldn’t realize that Antonio had been putting on weight. It had only been recently that some, such as his boss, had began to notice his clothes beginning to fit his frame differently. But once Peter pulled off his shirt completely, it became severely obvious how much weight he’d been putting on. Antonio had definitely tipped into the “doughy” body type. He had the beginning of a very soft paunch hanging to his stomach, not firm like Peter’s. The excess fat clung to him and wrapped around his midsection, his growing love handles bulging slightly because of his tight pants. With an extra ten pounds or so, his belly would probably start to sag more as more chub was packed on. His pecs hadn’t yet transitioned to man boobs, but had lost all semblence of definition as they were covered in fat. They had begun to puff up already, becoming more pointed as sensitive as he continued to grow. 

With one hand, Peter beckoned Sam to join them from the couch. Sam grimaced a little. He was still extremely full from the stuffing Peter had subjected him to just a little while ago. He looked down at his stomach again. From his viewpoint, he looked absolutely huge. The curve of his belly was exaggerated by his comparison to what it usually looked like. Although, he knew he was nowhere near as huge as his roommates were. 

Standing up with a groan, Sam walked around the coffee table and came to stand next the pair. He was unsure of what to do until Peter grabbed his hands and put them directly on Antonio’s belly. It was so soft, Sam’s eyes widened slightly. He laughed a little and shot a look at Antonio as if to apologize, but he didn’t remove his hands. Not getting a signal to stop, Sam moved even closer, pressing his body against the man’s middle. 

Now that they were so close, Sam noticed more differences between his two roommates. Whereas Peter had a carpeting of dark body hair across his entire belly, Antonio was mostly smooth. He did have a thick happy trail that connected to his belly button, as well as a fair amount around his nipples. His nipples were also quite large, a dark brown color that stood out against his cocoa skin. Sam couldn’t help but tease one gently. Then, catching all three men by surprise, he leaned forward and licked it. Antonio, already overwhelmed, could only gasp from the feeling. 

Peter had been watching his roommates become acquainted with each other, like a proud mentor introducing his students to new things. Now, he wanted more from them. 

“Tony, how long has it been since our last little fool-around?” he asked. He shook Antonio’s belly from behind. “I feel like this thing is even bigger than when I last saw it. Bout a month or so ago, right?” 

Antonio squirmed, Sam had moved to sucking on his other nipple. “Uh…I mighta been a little stressed at work. Eating some of the stuff the customers didn’t like an stuff. Some of the, the um, things chef makes.”

That made Peter smile. His influence was still working, even when Antonio wasn’t in the apartment with him. When they had first begun living together, Antonio had been a pretty skinny guy, who didn’t know how to relax. Peter was the one who had showed him that food was a great way to let go and have a good time. Pretty soon, some of the men’s clothes had had to be let go too. It seemed like his growing love for food had been getting even stronger.

“Just couldn’t stop huh?” Peter stepped to stand next to Antonio, pulling his chin to look at him. “Want to show Big Pete how much you can eat?” He accentuated the question by kissing him hungrily on the lips. 

 He plopped both Sam and Antonio on the couch, heading to the fridge in their small kitchenette area. Opening the door, Peter leaned into the chilling air, emerging with a large cake in his hands. The two layer confection was covered with a generous layer of chocolate frosting. Along the edges were swirls of more frosting, a strawberry placed in between each one. Since there was fruit on it, Peter had rationalized that made it healthy. He had been planning on having it for breakfast the next morning. 

Coming back into the living area, the two smaller men were busy rubbing each other’s bellies. Sam was still full from earlier, and Peter had a sneaking suspicion their in-house chef was also suitably stuffed. He sat down, careful not to spill the cake all over the rug they’d bought for the living space. His whole body bounced; it made him feel strong. Antonio had gotten more relaxed with the situation, turning at the movement and patting Peter’s gut a few times. 

“I think you forgot the forks. You still drunk or something?” Antonio asked. 

Wasn’t he in for a surprise, Peter thought gleefully. He leaned in close against his companion, and placed the cake on top of his belly like a table. Then, he took a large handful of the dessert, holding the mess of cake and frosting out to Antonio. 

“Taste check, chef?” Peter asked innocently. Before he could reply, Peter shoved it into Antonio’s mouth, forcing the man to let the food past his lips. Even so, the cake still smeared around his mouth. Peter had grabbed such a giant portion, crumbs cascading onto the couch and Antonio, covering his belly and burrowing themselves into his belly button. Just like with Sam, Peter already had more ready before he was even done chewing. But where Sam had been caught off-guard, it became increasingly apparent that Antonio had done this before. He chewed and swallowed in a steady rhythm, letting out tiny moans of pleasure and giving small nods when he was ready for more. Even with his obvious experience, Antonio was gradually becoming frosted in cake. 

Looking down, Peter smeared the cake in his hand all over Antonio. Sam had been continuing his admiration of the man’s body this entire time, but stopped to give Peter room. Now however, Peter directed Sam. “Don’t think I forgot about your dessert Sammy.” He rubbed even more cake onto Antonio, some even reaching his nipples. “I’m sure you’re hungry again. Tony shouldn’t eat alone.”

Quickly, Sam got on his knees in front of Antonio. He looked up, a question in his eyes as his fingers grazed the somewhat tight button on Antonio’s pants. 

“Go for it, big guy.” Antonio said, laughing at the irony while sitting next to Peter. His pants had been digging into his belly since they’d sat down, and it was a relief to have them stripped off and tossed aside. He sat there in his underwear, getting harder by the minute as Sam began to eat the cake off of his body. From Antonio’s point of view, Sam appeared to actually be eating his body. He sucked the cake from his skin, working methodically to ensure there wasn’t a trace left. In addition, he also used his tongue to trace long furrows through the sweet mess, sending waves of pleasure across his belly. Once he got to his belly button, his tongue dove into the cavern, excavating for any hidden treasure that had fled inside. 

At the same time, Peter was continuing to hand-feed Antonio the cake, which was already more than half gone. The added dessert was becoming increasingly apparent on top of all the food he’d eaten at the restaurant, his belly getting more and more rounded as they continued. What was usually more flab was now bloated and almost as tight as Peter’s belly. Antonio was so caught up with all the sensations he was experiencing that he didn’t notice there was no cake left, his mouth waiting patiently for his next bite. 

“Such a good boy Tony.” Peter said, kissing the side of his neck as he reached across his gut to grab Antonio’s. Sam had finished his cake as well, leaving Antonio feeling sticky and clean from his roommate’s thorough exploration. He’d inched in between his two roommates, one hand on each of their bellies. All three of them had eaten enough tonight to feed ten or more people. 

“You guys are so hot.” Sam said, his voice taking on a husky tone. “I can’t imagine being as big as either of you.”

Antonio looked down at his belly. “I probably thought the same thing a few months ago when I moved in with this guy.” Peter responded by nipping lightly at his neck. “He’s a great teacher.”

Peter chuckled and cupped underneath Antonio’s belly. “You were a quick study. Don’t think you can surpass me though.” He looked down at Sam, kneeling between them. His stomach was still bloated, giving him that ex-jock look that Peter always loved. What would he look like with an extra ten pounds? Thirty? Would his ass start to grow first, along with some nice love handles, or would his belly be the first to succumb to the fat? How long would that pretty face last until it began to blow up? It was all too much to think about all at once, Peter could barely contain himself anymore. 

“You want to be as big as us, huh Sammy?” Peter shook his giant belly for emphasis. “Want Tony and Big Pete help you become a big Texas man? Help you grow that gut of yours. I’ll warn ya,” he looked at Antonio, “loving a big man tends to have some…side effects.”

Sam instantly nodded his head, that same look of desire on his face that had initiated this entire night for the three of them. “I’ll eat anything you tell me to. We’ll stuff each other until we pop.”

Peter nodded once, looking forward to the weeks ahead of them. He leaned back on the couch, his belly spreading across his lap for both men to admire. Throwing one arm around Antonio, who nestled further into his side, Peter used his other hand to massage his dick through his underwear. There was a obvious dark spot where the tip pressed desperately against the fabric. “You’ll eat anything huh? I hope you’re still hungry, come and show Big Pete how much you love his teachings.”

Sam grinned, moving forward and stripping off his underwear. 

_ _ _ _ _

Sameer pushed the door to his apartment open, a gust of chilly, winter air following in his wake. Trying to handle the two heavy bags he was carrying, he managed to kick the door closed and huffed a sigh of relief. It was still a little more than a month until Spring began, and it was one of the few weeks that the Texas weather actually felt like winter. Sameer’s ears were frozen, and the tip of his nose felt numb. But even with the blustery weather, his roommates had still asked him if he could go on a fast-food run for them. Not for the first time. 

It was eight months after that first fateful night in the apartment. Peter, who now went solely by “Big Pete” was in his usual spot on the couch, enjoying a lazy Saturday and watching the playoffs on the TV. He had a bottle of beer sitting atop his exposed belly, as he rarely wore a shirt around the house now. Having almost reached 350 lbs, Peter’s belly was absolutely huge, covering his entire lap and spreading to either side of him. Stretch marks graffiti the skin of his underbelly, most faded with age, but it seemed there was always a new one that was a harsh red. He absently scratched at one now, subconsciously feeling at how big he was. 

Peter’s arm was draped around Sam, who had been transformed into a smaller version of Peter. Under his roommate’s guidance, Sam had ballooned rapidly to an impressive 230 lbs. The toned stud he used to be was now gone, buried under layers of fat. Although he hadn’t yet taken to lounging around shirtless like his roommate, the shirt he had on drew attention to the growing paunch he was growing, getting closer to a full beer guy by the day. The shirt was probably a size too small, riding up almost to his belly button where he was sitting. There also was not a crease along the front, the poor fabric working desperately to contain its large owner. 

In addition, Sam had taken to letting his beard grow out, buzzing his hair short on top to “complete his look.” Curly blond hair could also be spotted blossoming from his collar and covering his belly. 

Sam was how Sameer had come to start living with the other guys. He had started working at the same company Sam was at, getting hired to help in the IT department. Sam had been delegated now to mostly desk work for some reason, no longer sent to handle potential clients like he had been trusted to do before. Because of that, the two had begun to strike up an unlikely friendship at work, what with Sam outweighing the other man by at least 60 lbs. When Sameer, fresh out of grad school, had complained about still living at home, Sam had proposed the idea of adding him as their fourth roommate. After all, most nights at least one of their beds wasn’t being used. So before Sameer had moved in, Sam had moved all of his stuff into Peter’s, much to the bigger man’s delight. 

Plopping the bags of food down, Sameer cleared his throat, drawing Sam’s attention. “I’m back.”

“Aye! Long line at Taco Bell?” he asked, standing up to come grab the bags while Sameer took off his heavy coat. Sam slapped him on the back heartily as way of thanks, making him blush. Truth be told, Sameer harbored a slight crush on his coworker, though when he discovered that he was dating Peter he quickly tried to squash it. Sam walked back to the couch, yelling down the hall to their last roommate. “Food’s here, Antonio!” 

While the two on the couch began digging through one of the bags, Antonio shuffled out from down the hallway, stifling a yawn with his hand. It looked like he had just woken up, his hair disheveled and his white tank top crooked, his belly peeking out. 

Antonio hadn’t put on as much as his roommates, perhaps 30 lbs, keeping him ahead of Sam at around 260 lbs. His belly had expanded, as well as his ass, which filled out all of the pants he owned. He usually just opted for sweatpants, unless he had to go to work. An interesting development at the restaurant however was that it appeared the head chef liked to keep his star pupil well-fed. Antonio had continued to exhibit his proficient cooking skills and had been invited by his boss to stay after shifts sometimes to test recipes and perfect his technique. This led to a lot of extra food, which the budding chef had been coaxed into eating. He wasn’t exactly sure what it all meant, but the snarky banter and teasing slaps to his gut encouraged him to eat it all. 

Flopping down on the armchair, a necessity the guys had bought so everyone had a place to sit, Antonio accepted a burrito from Sam, unwrapping it and digging in greedily. With all three men satiated, Sameer turned towards his room, planning to waste time online. Besides, whenever the guys ate he always felt a little strange. As if the thought of food had conjured it, Sameer’s stomach let out a giant growl, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. 

Sameer turned around, his roommates staring at him with food lifted halfway to their mouths. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little hungry.”

Peter grinned, setting his tacos down on his belly and patting the space next to him. “Hey, you can always join us, we have plenty of food.” 

He hesitated for just a moment, but decided to sit for a while. Even after a few months, he still wasn’t close with the other guys besides Sam, and he didn’t want to alienate himself. As he walked around to sit in the small space Peter’s body left on the couch, Sameer didn’t notice the big man’s gaze. Peter took in the his frame: the polo hanging off his torso, the thin legs draped by his jeans, the glasses giving the kid an awkward and nerdy appearance. An idea began to form in Peter’s head, as his hand slowly massaged Sam’s belly. The belly he had helped create. 

Peter’s grin got even wider, putting Sameer at ease. “Like I always say, I feel bad eating alone.”   

[chunkylechonk]

My Big Roommates (Part 1)

     “Hey Sam, you hungry?” came a muffled shout from down the hall. Lying on his bed, Sam looked up from the book he was reading. He glanced over at the clock near his window, seeing that it was a quarter past eleven, and he could tell the sky was pitch black through the shutters. He knew Peter’s inquiry about his hunger was merely because he himself was hungry. He also knew who would be tasked with getting the food, since Peter found the effort required to get his own food not worth it if someone else was there to do it for him. Groaning, Sam rolled onto his back and stretched his arms wide, stiff from lying on his bed so long. Letting out an exasperated sigh and setting his book aside, Sam slowly let himself roll over and plop heavily off the edge of the bed to plant his feet on the floor. He got up and opened his bedroom door, scratching the back of his head as he walked down the short hallway that connected to the main living room. 

     Sam was twenty-seven years old, with a full head of brown hair that stuck up in the back like a rooster. He had a natural, lean build—thanks to his genetics—and helped by his fast metabolism. Many people would be envious of his body: 5’11” and weighing 185 lbs allowed Sam to still show off a fairly flat stomach. He had been into track and cross-country during college, and although he wasn’t too active, he had still maintained some lean muscle. 

     After graduating from the University of Texas in Austin with his bachelor’s in business, Sam had started working at a local start-up in the downtown area. They were involved in technology, with the big details all being a bit over his head at the moment. “They say what to do and I get it done,” is what Sam usually replied to anyone who asked about it. Working in the office, he kept his beard neatly trimmed. Combined with his bright, blue eyes and natural smile, clients were more often than not won over by his charisma. 

     The job was part of the reason Sam lived with Peter and Antonio. The other of course being money. Living downtown could be pretty expensive, and Sam’s job didn’t exactly pay that much at the moment. He had met Peter back in college, becoming casual friends since they had lived in the same dorm building for several years. When he had seen on Facebook that Peter was looking for another roommate to share an apartment with, Sam had quickly taken the offer. At first he had been a little wary, remembering how Peter had always been about fun, not so much hard work back in college. He remembered several times studying and seeing Peter making a drunken return to the dorms late at night after partying yet again.  But he seemed to have mellowed out at least a little since then, and the two months he’d been here had been fairly enjoyable. Their other roommate Antonio was great as well, but he worked odd hours as a chef at a restaurant, getting back either really early or late, always looking like he hadn’t gotten sleep in five days. 

     As Sam walked into the living room, he found Peter lounging across their sofa, the TV in front of him blaring some annoying commercials. Several beer bottles were strewn around his feet, and another was firmly planted against Peter’s lips as he drained it. Sam rolled his eyes as he waited for him to finish. 

     There was no other way to say it — Peter was a big guy. A full blown Texan, he was 6’2’’ and a whopping 300 lbs. Most of that weight sat firmly on his gut, forming a prominent beer belly that stuck out several inches in front of him. The rest of him was filled out as well, both his biceps and thighs showing a fair amount of added beef. His facial features had turned soft, but he had a full beard to give him a very southern cowboy-look. Brown messy hair and deep hazelnut eyes, he was an attractive man, albeit a very big man. But it never seemed to bother him. Never in the time that he had known him could Sam remember Peter being self-conscious, or even attempting something near a diet. He ate what he wanted when he wanted it, and always seemed to be reaching for more.

     Finally finishing his beer, Peter shot a crooked smile at Sam and repeated his question. “Hey man you hungry?”

     Deciding that a late-night snack could be nice, Sam replied. “Yeah sure, want me to drive and get some McDonald’s?” It was the closest place he could think of, and he wanted this to be a fast trip. 

     “Of course man, get me the usual!” Peter said enthusiastically. Content now, he leaned back further on the couch, spreading his arms wide along the back, causing his shirt to ride up and exposing an inch of the flesh on his belly. For a moment, Sam could only stare at the strip of visible skin. He had the strange urge to reach over and pinch the fat, to see how firm it was or if his fingers would sink in. Shaking the creepy thought away, he went and grabbed his keys and headed out the door. 

     It only took Sam a few minutes to get to the McD’s; the street their apartment building sat on was conveniently and suspiciously home to a number of greasy food joints just like it. Pulling into the lot, Sam opted for just going through the drive-through, and save the hassle of getting down. Stopping next to the menu board, he rolled down his window, and a wave of hot, summer air came rushing to greet him. 

     That classic crackly voice came onto the speaker after a short moment. “Hi, welcome to McDonald’s, what will it be?” Sam quickly shot off the order from memory: three double quarter pounders, two 20 chicken nuggets, two large orders of fries, and a large coke. It really was a testament to how many times Sam had been subscripted to help satiate Peter’s food cravings. Maybe he’d have to bring it up later. He pulled around to the next window and handed the girl his card. He noticed the slight look of surprise on her face as he came around the corner. It was obvious why; one person in the car and enough food to feed a family of six. Usually the workers had the sense to not react to it, or Sam had just gotten used to it after all the delivery trips he’d already made. But tonight he was feeling impatient, hardly glancing at the girl as she handed him back his card. He was still thrown off by the weird moment he’d had looking at Peter on the couch. Pulling up to the next window, the worker handed him the coke first, before somehow fitting through the window the biggest bag Sam had ever seen. Unable to do anything else, Sam grabbed the heavy paper bag being thrust at him from the boy, dropping it right on his lap. 

     “What the hell is this!?” Sam exclaimed as he looked into the bag. It was filled with burgers and boxes of nuggets, with fries spilling from their containers all over the contents. The concerned look on the girl’s face made a little more sense now. Had he said the right orders? Had they repeated it back to him and he just hadn’t been paying attention? The more he thought back, the more Sam doubted himself. 

     The guy just gave him a puzzled look in regards to his question. “Is that not your order sir?” 

     “Yeah I guess so,” Sam said slowly. It was too late to give it back, seeing as he had already paid for it all. With some effort, he managed to displace the massive bag into the passenger seat. He rolled up his window and headed back to the apartment. Let’s hope Peter’s hungry, Sam thought dryly. 

     Pulling back into the apartment complex, Sam turned off the engine and got out of his car. It really was hot tonight, and he didn’t know why he had grabbed his jacket. In his flustered state before leaving, he must not have been thinking clearly. The warm food had smelled heavenly in the car, but it had only added to Sam’s growing discomfort. Beads of sweat could be felt running down his back, and his forehead was glistening. He opened the passenger door, grabbed the giant bag and drink, and headed back up to the apartment. 

     He opened the door, Peter exactly where he had left him on the couch, eyes transfixed on the TV. It had only been like twenty minutes, so Sam wasn’t too surprised. The only indicator that he had moved were the added beer bottles that had appeared on the already cluttered floor. Sam counted seven on the ground as he peeled off his sweaty jacket, and he spied one more in Peter’s hand. His other hand lay lightly on his gut, rubbing in small circles around the beach ball of a belly. In addition, his shirt had also ridden up another inch as his belly expanded with beer, almost exposing his navel. Getting his attention, Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, “Food’s here!” 

     That perked him up, Peter’s eyes darting to Sam and then quickly to the giant bag he had in his hand. Another one of those goofy grins spread across his face, and he patted the spot next to him on the couch. “Well set it down here before I starve and wither away!” Peter found his joke extremely amusing, chuckling at his apparent wit. Sam could definitely tell he was drunk as he walked over to the couch. He set the bag down in the middle of the couch, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

     “They gave me more than I ordered, but I guess we can save some stuff for tomorrow.” Sam said as he sat down. 

     Peter immediately dug his hand into the bag, grabbing a burger and fries from its depths without so much as looking. Stuffing fries in his mouth by the handful as he unwrapped the burger, Sam could only watch as the goliath before him devoured the food. Peter took a massive bite of the burger, chasing it down his throat with another fistful of fries shoved down to follow. The pattern continued like that until both were gone, and then repeated itself. More food went from the bag to Peter’s stomach, filling out his already monstrous gut. The mountain of fat was growing slowly, burgeoning outward as Peter continued to eat. As he got to a twenty piece chicken nuggets, Sam could swear each one pushed Peter’s belly farther out. The sudden image of a slot machine popped into his head: every nugget like a coin being inserted for one more pump to Peter’s belly. His food stained white t-shirt now hugged him halfway up his belly, showing off his deep navel surrounded by a very hairy belly. Dark, curly brown hair matted his stomach, growing even darker and fuller where a thick happy trail led down its center, tracing into his trousers. Looking on in wonder, Sam could tell Peter’s pants were straining to contain his giant ball gut growing right in front of his eyes. The button looked like it was pinching Peter’s underbelly, and he was pretty sure it was about to pop right off if he ate anymore. 

     After finishing the nuggets and yet another burger, Peter stopped, leaning back with a dazed look from all the food he’d just consumed. Both hands were gripping the sides of his gut, fingers digging into the skin getting more taut every minute. A low rumbling could be heard from his stomach, proceeding a massive burp that he let out. Grinning after relieving his discomfort, Peter then proceeded to fix another. 

     “Damn Sam, when’d it get so hot in here? I gotta take off these clothes to cool off.” Without waiting for a reply, he pulled his tight shirt over his head and chucked it onto the floor. He gave Sam a sideways glance, “Hope you don't mind.” His pants however refused to be removed, as Peter had some difficulty undoing the button. Or maybe it was just that he couldn’t see it past his gut. Finally he managed to release the tension after sucking in a bit, causing his belly to noticeably expand out as it was released from the tight waistband and he exhaled, wriggling out of them and tossing them on the floor too (making his belly jiggle slightly). Leaning back into the sofa, Peter let out a sigh of relief as he tucked into yet another burger. 

     Sam was dumbfounded. All of a sudden his giant roommate was sitting in front of him in nothing but some very tight red boxer briefs, chowing down on greasy food. And even more concerning, it was turning him on. Sam had never considered that he might be gay. After all, he’d had a girlfriend back in college, until they broke up fairly recently because of the whole long-distance thing. But now here he was, sitting with his big, mostly naked roommate, and he couldn’t take his eyes off him. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon sight in their apartment, but Sam had never felt this way before, or at least he hadn’t ever sat right next to Peter during one of his binges. Almost against his will, Sam’s eyes roamed over Peter’s nude body. How his belly continued to expand with each bite, resting heavily on his lap. How his entire body jiggled slightly whenever he moved: from his meaty thighs to his gorgeous love handles. And of course how his gut had grown into a perfect sphere that curved up to meet his pecs, which were puffy from their added layer of insulation.

     What the hell is wrong with me? Sam asked himself as he stared gaping at his roommate. Peter was finishing another thing of nuggets, his cheeks filled to the brim and a big smile on his face. Popping the last one in his mouth, he slowly looked over and made eye contact with Sam. Realizing he was still staring, and had been this entire time, Sam quickly averted his gaze, turning to focus on the TV. He didn’t even know what was on — some basketball game? — he had no idea. He could still feel Peter’s eyes on him, burning into him with a scorching intensity. 

     “Hey man, you’re not gonna eat?” Peter asked. Sam turned to see him looking at him curiously, almost as if he was pouting. 

     “No, you go ahead. My stomach doesn’t feel so good.” Which was partially true, Sam admitted. With all that was happening, it felt like a huge stone had been stuck in his stomach. He felt extremely queasy with all these new feelings rushing around in his head, not to mention what was happening in his pants.

     “Aww c’mon man, feel bad eating by myself!” Peter said.

     “You’re fine.” Sam replied, still not turning his head. “The people at the drive-through gave me too much,” he repeated, “so we can leave it for later.”

     But Peter was already shaking his head, a frown now on his previously happy face. “Is not good when it’s cold. Has to be eaten now.”

     Sam tried his best to act normal. “Well you’re doing a pretty good job of putting it all away man,” he laughed a little awkwardly. 

     “There’s a lot left, you have to eat some.”

     “No really I’m fine—“ Sam began to protest, but stopped as Peter rose from his seat. It took a moment for him to lift his new and improved baggage off of the couch. His overhang was so big, Peter had to support his belly with one hand, cradling his engorged belly and leaning back slightly to his new center of balance. Standing up showcased Peter’s body like a fattened hog at the fair. And there was a lot to see. Sam could see how perfectly round his belly was, stuffed full of food. Laboriously, he moved his girth the two steps needed to reach where Sam sat on the couch, his body jiggling with every colossal step. Peter moved the bag of food aside and turned, giving Sam a quick look at Peter’s wide, bubble butt, pushing against the confines of his briefs, before plopping down on the couch next to him. The entire sofa jumped and screeched back a few inches as all 300, and probably now more, pounds of Peter landed, bouncing and jiggling, right next to Sam, who was frozen from pure bafflement. 

    Peter leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to him, “Then I’ll help you eat some food.” Grabbing a box of nuggets, he pressed right up to Sam, his belly pressing into Sam’s side as he leaned into him. Next thing Sam knew, Peter threw his arm around his shoulder and was lifting a chicken nugget to his mouth with the other. Sam began to splutter at the bizarre situation, and the close proximity he now found himself to Peter. 

     “Peter, I said I’m not hung—“ but he had to stop as his roommate shoved the food into his mouth anyways. Chewing and swallowing angrily, Sam drew breath to protest again, but was foiled by another nugget already poised in front of his mouth. It kept going like this, Peter forcing nugget after nugget into Sam’s mouth, almost giving him no time in between to catch his breath. As it went on, Peter’s right hand moved down to one of Sam’s pecs. Reaching them, his roommate began to gently massage his nipple through his shirt, sending a tingle throughout Sam’s entire body. He closed his eyes and let out a small moan of pleasure around the food in his mouth. Being fed (he had already finished the nuggets and was now being fed a double cheeseburger), and stimulated at the same time, Sam felt better than he ever had in his entire life. He felt his dick growing in his pants as the blood rushed to it, and prayed that it wasn’t too noticeable yet. Peter grinned, speaking drunkenly as he continued to feed Sam. “Feel good Sam?”

All Sam could let out was a faint gasp as Peter leaned closer into his side. His stomach was nestled against him, and very slowly he felt Peter begin to push up against him. “You like that Sammy?” Any reply Sam had planned was cut off by a handful of fries being shoved in his mouth, forcing him to chew. 

          “Doesn’t it feel good pushing your gut to the limit? Reaching for more when everyone else would stop or get sick?” Every question was followed by another few fries. “I love it. Feeling full doesn’t get me going anymore, I need to be stuffed.” Even more fries. Peter leaned in and whispered in Sam’s ear  “Until I pop.”

          Having now eaten enough food for two, Sam’s stomach was beginning to round out; a shallow curve where it had always been flat. His slim button up was getting a tad snug, but only a small diamond of skin was showing from the middle button. Peter’s eyes lit up at the sight, a thrill running through his body, and he increased his pace, Sam desperately trying to keep up. 

Leaning forward, Peter grabbed the forgotten drink on the table and clutched the cup as he settled back in. Sam lay enthralled by how Peter’s belly hung down when he leaned forward. Perhaps for the first time, Sam realized that Peter didn’t really have love handles. Sure, he had fat there like he had across the rest of his body. But for the most part, the bulk of his...added bulk settled stoically on his gut. Sam wondered if this was on purpose, as if he had figured out how to put all his food solely to growing forward. His dick grew even more, making him shift slightly as Peter lifted the Coke to his mouth. He gulped it down, feeling the fizzy liquid filling the spaces between all the food in his stomach. Finally being allowed a breath, Sam burped loudly, earning a quick pinch to his nipple from Peter, who just grinned that same grin. Boxes came and went in a blur, the contents all going into Sam’s growing gut. His shirt was now uncomfortably tight, all the buttons straining to hold back the surging growth of his stomach. As if on cue, the button right on his midriff released with a pop, flying away to allow his stomach to inch out a bit. 

The sound brought Sam out of his daze, and he glanced down at what his roommate was doing to him. His stomach looked like he had a basketball inside of it, grease and crumbs scattered across his straining shirt. Moving a bit, another button flew off, launching across the room and revealing more of the new belly. Sam groaned, realizing how full he was, rubbing his stomach’s curve as its contents sloshed around inside him. Another burp erupted from his mouth, and he blushed furiously. If he had been in the right frame of mind, he might have realized this was the same state he had witnessed Peter in not even an hour ago.

     “Shirt’s begging for release Sammy.” Peter commented. “Think we should let it out of its misery?

     Sam glanced down at his soiled shirt, breathing heavily during his respite around all the food he had consumed. “No...it’s...it’s fine.”

     “Should we let you out of your misery?” Peter teased, fingering Sam’s belly button through the gap in his shirt. Slowly, Peter unbuttoned the remaining buttons on the shirt, pulling it off of his roommate and tossing it on top of his own discarded clothes. Now the extent of the damage could be seen by both men. Peter placed his hand on Sam’s new belly, rubbing small circles around the shallow curve. He marveled at how much of a difference there was after such a short time. Sam’s skin glistened with fast food grease, and his skin felt tight. His belly protruded over the waistband of his pants. Peter turned himself more towards Sam and placed both his meaty hands on his stomach. He traced two circles with his hands, pressing lightly into Sam’s taut belly. The slight pressure elicited another small burp from Sam, who had taken to looking down from embarrassment. 

Continuing to rub Sam’s belly, Peter’s hands explored the new expanse of flesh. Every time he pushed against his belly he was rewarded with another small burp from Sam. This pleased Peter, cause he knew that meant more room in Sam’s stomach to fill with food. His hands moved around until they rested on Sam’s ass. His pants felt like they were tight around his butt. Slowly, Peter pulled Sam across the couch, coaxing him forward until they were nearly on top of each other. Then he began to unbutton Sam’s tight jeans. 

Sam quickly tried to protest and squirmed. “Peter no, stop! You’re super drunk right now! I don’t want—”

But Peter just smiled as he met Sam’s eyes, and continued to unbutton his pants. 

“I think” he drawled, “that you do want this. I saw the way you were looking at me Sammy. While I was eating.” As Peter said that, he successfully released the button of Sam’s jeans. Now he started to work them off. “You couldn’t take your eyes off me. Or, I guess off of my gut.” he corrected as he got the jeans past Sam's thighs. “I’m flattered. I didn’t know you felt that way. You don’t gotta lie to me.” Peter said, leaning down to tug the bunched up denim past each foot. He cast the obstinate jeans away, happy he had finally gotten them off Sam. Raising his head, Peter stopped when he was eye level with Sam’s gray underwear. And the apparent bulge within them. “Seems like a friend of yours can’t lie to me.” 

Slowly, in case Sam got scared off, Peter took Sam’s hands and placed them squarely onto his belly. Sam’s eyes widened for a moment before he began to run his hands gently across the large gut. Starting from the shelf of his belly, Sam touched every part of Peter that he could reach, slowly becoming bolder with his probing of all of Peter’s fat. The big guy let out a moan as Sam pinched his underbelly, and grinned when he tickled his love handles. At the same time, Sam was breathing increasingly heavier, whether from Peter’s body or from his full stomach, it wasn’t clear. 

The two men continued to rub each other’s full stomachs, sitting on the couch in nothing but their underwear. Sam wouldn’t have guessed in his wildest dreams that this is how his night would turn out, but he felt too turned on to care. Whatever he had felt watching Peter eat was magnified now, after being force fed and stimulated like he was. 

Sam glanced at Peter quickly. “So, I didn’t know that you were gay.”

Peter laughed, causing his belly to bounce against Sam’s. “I’ve fooled around a few times with some guys. Mostly frat guys who weren’t out. Usually we were drunk too. What really turned me on was this. Eating until I was so full that I could barely move. Since we were either drunk or high when we’d hook up, there was always food involved. I love feeling this big, but seeing those fit frat guys let go and lose those abs made me get harder than anything else.”

Since Sam was sitting on his lap, he could feel Peter’s dick beneath him, which was pressing against his butt as they spoke. Between his dick below him and his hands on his stomach, Sam was totally in Peter’s control. 

“I remembered you from college and you were always cute.” Peter grabbed either side of Sam’s tight belly. “But always so skinny. And then you moved in here and kept mostly to yourself. Not that I was uh…putting on a show on purpose. But tonight when you were watching me, I felt more turned on than I’d ever been before.” With that statement, Peter finally dropped his hand and grabbed Sam’s dick through his underwear. “I’m happy that you like this too.” 

Sam moaned louder than he had all night, leaning towards Peter and kissing him fully on the lips. They were so occupied with each other, they didn’t hear the front door open. When they pulled apart, the first thing they saw was their other roommate standing in the entryway.