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naivemlnd · 2 years ago

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Maybe it's You

Another BHM/FFA romance story I posted on dimensions magazine that I also wanted to post here :)

Summary: Catherine feels alone in the big city, until she meets a man who changes everything. Content warning: This story contains a character who suffers from health-related anxiety.

There’s something wrong with me.

There has to be.

I have these thoughts sometimes, and they’re not like what everyone else around me is thinking or feeling. They’re… different. Taboo even.

I can’t quite put my finger down on when they started. Maybe for as long as I remember. But it took a while for me to understand that other people didn’t feel the same.

In kindergarten, I’d grab the pudgiest boy in class by the arm, squeezing his upper arm fat like it was a stress ball. He would laugh, seemingly happy to have found a friend at all, even if she was odd and didn’t respect personal boundaries.

But it became weird in first and second grade. You couldn’t just grab someone’s fat and squeeze it. And other kids liked to poke fun at the fat kids, they would taunt them.

Eventually I would just join in. It was easier that way. Less conspicuous. But I’d never grown out of wanting to touch, to feel that supple flesh under my hands.

During puberty was when I really noticed it.

People would talk about going to second base, how hot abs were, how sexy an hourglass figure was on a girl. But I was only ever aroused when I imagined someone eating, rubbing their fat belly, getting full, moaning, but still stuffing food in…

So, it turned out most people didn’t share this interest.

And I never said it out loud, never admitted to anyone besides myself, that I was attracted, with a level of exclusivity that scared me, to fat people. More specifically, fat people actively getting fatter.

My first boyfriend was thin. I was 15 and I wanted. I kissed him. I really tried to get into it.

But I couldn’t.

My college boyfriend was big, but not in the ways I wanted. He was physically imposing, well over 6 feet, broad shouldered. Handsome, sweet, funny. That helped. I nearly convinced myself that I was attracted to him. See, brain? He’s big. He makes me feel dainty and happy and nice.

It didn’t work.

I never wanted to have sex with him because I couldn’t get aroused around him.

My excuses of taking it slow, then of ‘headaches’ or of not being in the mood only went so far. So we went our separate ways after a year together, never going farther than kissing and fondling.

It was depressing and sad that I’d only ever gotten myself off when watching some fat person on youtube stuff their faces. And after getting off, I always feel worse.

It’s in these moments of self doubt, late at night, when my heart aches for some kind of intimacy, some kind of belonging, that I think about these things.

But maybe it’s not my interest in fat men that is the problem. Surely, if that were the case, I’d just find a fat guy to date.

So maybe it’s me that’s the problem.

“Cath!”

I whipped my head around, spotting Layla as she waved a hand to get my attention. She was standing with a couple of other people, none of whom I recognized as I approached.

I cleared my throat, “Hi.”

Layla reached out to hug me, but I leaned away and she dropped her arms. Her smile was pinched around the edges, making me feel even more like shit.

Layla knew not to do things like that, but she was always…pushing.

Layla recovered quickly.

“I’ve got to introduce you! Okay, this is John,” she gestured to a tall man with thin wire glasses, “and Isaac,” a broad-shouldered man with curly brown hair nodded towards me, an easy smile on his lips. I attempted to mirror the expression, but it felt forced.

“They work in marketing,” Layla prattled. “And this is Vienna, she’s a data specialist like us, but in a different department.”

Vienna, a short woman with very big hair greeted me.

“Everyone, this is Catherine!” Layla said, hovering over my shoulder.

“Nice to meet you all,” I said, still feeling off balance from the almost-hug and Layla’s watchful gaze.

“You as well,” big-shoulder guy, Isaac, said.

The thing about being an adult, with an adult job, is that you always feel about an inch from unraveling.

I hesitated around the edges of the end-of-quarter banquet, near the hand sanitizer dispenser.

It was annoying that every employee had to attend these. So many people crammed into a banquet hall, all for some mediocre mostaccioli and baked chicken to ‘celebrate’ the employees and boost morale.

And although Layla’s attention to me was misguided, I did appreciate that there was someone here who was interested in socializing with me.

“You should ask John out,” Layla said, appearing at my side. She was eating the olive out of her martini.

“No no,” I started to protest.

“Come on! You’ve got to get out sometime!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Which one was that again?” I asked.

“Glasses.”

Thin and tall, I added mentally. I shrugged. I knew it would only end one way: disappointment. But as usual, I was hoping for a miracle, a miraculous change to occur in me. For me to feel something for someone else, even just for a moment.

The date could be worse. But it felt more like a friendly meetup. I glanced at John’s slim figure, his slender arms, his sharp jaw, and knew with a sinking feeling in my gut that I wouldn’t even want to kiss him.

“How do you like the city? Layla mentioned you’re from the south,” John asked after a sip of water.

“It’s good, busy. I miss Georgia sometimes, of course, but I am grateful to be away from the humidity,” I said, pleased when he laughed with me.

“Oh, I'm sure! I’m a native New Yorker, so it’s interesting to hear about other people’s hometowns. Back when I lived in Queens…”

At the end of the night, John walked me home. He leaned down, maybe to hug me, maybe to kiss me, but I pulled away.

There was a small frown tugging at his lips, but politeness seemed to keep him from saying anything.

“I had a great time, thank you for dinner,” I said, and went inside my building.

“And so, this Layla person, the only friend you’ve made from your work, is now dating the guy she set you up with?” my sister’s voice, thick with the sound of home, crackled through my phone speakers.

“Yup,” I said, trying not to get polish everywhere as I painted my toes.

“Wow. What happened to girl code?”

I sighed. “I didn’t like the guy. So I honestly couldn’t care less.”

My sister made a thoughtful noise.

“It’s been over a month since I went out with him. Once. One date. It’s not like I had some kind of claim on him.”

My sister Ciara, like most of my friends and family, thought I was too picky with men. If only they knew the half of it.

“When are you visiting again, Cath?”

“Not until Christmas,” I replied.

Ciara audibly sighed.

“You could visit me here, you know.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn't need to. It was expensive and she had the kids to worry about.

“How are the rugrats?” I asked when the silence had stretched a moment too long, and she went into depth about how Connor was doing with potty training and how Rachel was able to keep her head up on her own.

It seemed like everyone, even the kiddos, were doing more, were improving, changing. Bettering themselves. Everyone except me.

I recognized that this thought was unfair, but it didn’t stop me from having it.

Exactly three months after the last, there was another end-of-quarter banquet.

I dressed myself presentably, in a comfortable yet stylish sweater with black dress pants.

Layla waved me over to a table, where she and John were sitting side by side. Vienna, who I remembered from the last banquet, was there too, sitting by John. Next to her was a couple I didn't recognize but who Layla quickly introduced. Layla, an insufferable extrovert, was always making new friends. Or networking. I could never quite tell with her.

I took one of the two empty seats, sitting at Layla’s right.

They were talking about holiday plans, and so I chimed in that I was going to visit family in Georgia.

“How fun!” Vienna said.

“Probably won’t be a white Christmas,” John said with humor.

“I’m not built for snow anyhow. I hate the cold,” I said, gesturing to my tiny body.

A few people at the table laughed, but my attention was pulled away as the empty chair next to mine was pulled out.

I glanced up. Broad-shoulder guy, er, Isaac? Yes, Isaac, with the curly hair. But he looked… different.

He sat down heavily. I’d noticed at the last banquet that he was a large person to begin with, tall and wide. It had been difficult to tell in a suit, but he’d seemed stocky. Like someone who was quite muscular, but not cut or lean by any means.

But now…he had a belly. A real, honest-to-god, belly. It balanced out those crazy wide shoulders, pushing out from his suit jacket, and balling up in his lap as he pulled the chair up closer to the table.

I felt myself blushing and pinched my thigh.

Now is not the time.

“Snow is overrated if you ask me. It’s glorified cold, icy rain. Bleh,” Isaac said.

John made an indignant noise.

Isaac grinned at him.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year…” Vienna started singing when John and Isaac began debating the pros and cons of snow.

“Isaac,” somebody said from behind. Isaac turned in his chair, smiling that easy smile. “You been hitting the eggnog a little hard, pal?”

My eyes widened, and I deliberately looked into the candle flickering on the table’s centerpiece so that my eyes wouldn’t wander towards his midsection. Why would this guy say that? Wasn’t that… rude?

But Isaac only laughed. I heard something, a light patting that might’ve been Isaac tapping his belly for emphasis.

“Yeah, it’s my winter coat.”

I crossed my legs under the table.

Get a grip, Catherine.

We were served dinner, chicken in mushroom sauce and mashed potatoes, which I picked at, paying much more attention to the plate next to mine, which was cleared before anyone else's. It was all but licked clean.

That night, I couldn’t get Isaac out of my mind. As Isaac was someone who had only spoken about three words to me in my entire life, I had become quite easily infatuated.

Isaac was fatter now. And based on the way he had eaten tonight, it seemed likely that he would continue to do so.

Check and check.

I couldn’t help searching him up online.

I went through Layla’s friends list, and scrolled to the ‘I’s.

“Found him,” I muttered to myself, clicking his profile.

Isaac Friedmann

I scrolled through his profile photos, but the newest was over a year old, before he’d gained weight. Still, he looked nice, with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. I scrolled back, seeing younger versions of him. One photo from six years ago showed Isaac in a hockey jersey, fresh off the ice, stick in hand, grinning with some of his teammates.

“College hockey player? That’s impressive,” I murmured to myself. I ignored the twinge in my gut reminding me of the ‘ex-athlete who gets fat’ trope in weight gain fiction.

Isaac’s ‘about’ info was private, so I couldn’t check his relationship status. But really, what were the chances that he would even be interested in me anyway?

I didn’t request to be his friend, even though I sort of wanted to.

I spent the holidays back home. I had to dodge lots of questions about my love life, which was of course, nonexistent. Instead, I steered conversation back to safer topics, like my job.

“I basically crunch numbers for the company. It’s a little boring, but the pay is nice and it’s low stress. Good hours, and benefits.”

This explanation generally had my aunts cooing and congratulating me on my success.

I flew back to New York on the 29th, as I wanted to go to Times Square and see the ball drop. I’d done it the past two years since I’d lived in the city. It was crowded and cold, but somehow, my inner child lived for it.

I had plans to meet up with my friend Chris, also known ‘Moxie’ when he was in drag, and his partner Sid. Chris lived in my apartment building and we’d bonded over being the only tenants who do laundry at 5:00 am. For Chris, he usually hadn’t gone to bed yet, and I had typically just woken up. Between our incompatible sleep schedules, we barely saw each other outside of these strange twilight hours or weekend nights. We exchanged texts semi-regularly throughout the weekdays, which was about all I could look for in a friend anyway. It’s not like I needed 24/7 companionship.

I’d been tempted to tell Chris about my, um, tastes. He was very kink positive and not at all judgmental. But every time I considered it, I practically broke out in hives. It stressed me out so much that I eventually gave up on the idea. Chris was probably under the impression that I was ace, and I had never done much to dissuade him from this idea. Hell, maybe I was on the ace spectrum.

That might explain why the only thing that could get me going was fat bellies.

This is not the time to think about this.

I met up with Chris and Sid in the lobby and we walked to Times Square together.

I was freezing cold in a matter of seconds.

“Aw, poor Peach,” Sid said, rubbing my arm as we walked, which didn’t do much to quell my shivering. Peach was Sid’s nickname for me, one which I thought was endearing in a slightly annoying way.

“I have extra gloves if you want to double up,” Chris chimed in.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m wearing lots of layers,” I said. The wind chose that moment to blast frozen air directly onto my exposed face. “Fudging fudge!” I exclaimed.

Sid cackled while Chris groaned.

“Please just say fuck. Please,” he begged.

I wrinkled my nose. “Hmmm,” I pretended to consider it. “No.”

We argued over which swear words I was likely to say, and what disastrous scenarios might prompt me to break my ‘no-swearing’ streak, which I’d had for as long as I could remember.

Eventually, we nudged our way into the NYE crowd and found an area to stand. We weren’t near any of the stages, but that was alright. The main attraction was the ball, which could be seen from anywhere. None of us had much interest in the musical guests.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” Sid said, gesturing to the pub down the block that was selling drinks in disposable cups. “Anyone want anything?”

“I’m alright,” I said.

“A beer?” Chris asked. Sid nodded, gave his partner a quick kiss, and headed off.

I had become acclimated to the harsh cold and so I wasn’t shivering too badly anymore. That, or my face had become completely numb.

“Your nose is so red,” Chris commented, booping me on the nose with a gloved finger.

“It’s charming,” I replied easily, earning a crooked smile from him. Chris had a way of soothing my mind. I couldn’t think of a single other person who I could joke with quite so easily.

As he readied to say something else, I was bumped into from behind. Chris caught me by the elbows so I wouldn’t fall.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, shit,” a deep voice mumbled.

I turned, don’t worry about it, already on my lips but…

I saw shoulders, broad and thick. An open winter jacket, a sweater-covered belly filling the opening. Curly brown hair. Chubby red cheeks. It was Isaac!

I blinked.

Isaac blinked back.

“Oh, hey, um Catherine right?”

I felt myself blushing, but hoped that the general redness of my wind-numb face would cover it.

“Yeah, hi, um Isaac.”

Chris nudged me. “Oh, and this is my friend Chris,” I added.

“Nice to meet you,” Isaac said. His eyes darted between Chris and I. I felt keenly aware that Chris still had one hand on my arm.

I pulled away and gave Isaac what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Um, great to see you somewhere that isn't work-mandated.”

Wow, I am horrible at flirting, I thought to myself. But he laughed.

“Yeah, you too!” He glanced around. “I’d better get back to my friends, but it was great running into you.��

“You too!”

There was another awkward smile exchange, and then he was slipping through the crowd and out of sight.

“Um, who the hell was that?” Chris wheeled on me. His face was all-too knowing.

“Work acquaintance,” I said.

Sid slid back up then, took a quick look between Chris and I before saying, “What’d I miss?”

“Catherine just attempted to flirt. With another human being.”

Sid raised his eyebrows.

I pulled my hat down so it covered my ears better, not acknowledging that.

“Attempted? Was she successful?” Sid asked.

Chris eyed me and I felt horribly transparent.

“The guy seemed into it. He was all smiley.”

I frowned. Had he been? I couldn’t hardly remember the encounter except my own horrible embarrassment.

“Well, who wouldn’t be? That’s the power of the Peach right there.”

I laughed and felt a tad lighter.

When the ball dropped, I bit my lip and sighed, yearning for something unnamed, unknowable. For something.

“Great work, Catherine.”

I couldn’t help but preen a bit at the praise. My boss wasn’t harsh, but he also wasn’t overly friendly. He meant what he said, and he rarely gave compliments.

I let the high from that interaction carry me through the rest of the day. Petty work drama couldn’t touch me, not when I had done such ‘great work’ on my report.

“There’s cake in the lounge if you want. It’s for, em, Eric,” Shelby, one of the interns from NYU, attempting to remember, “… Eric from accounting,” she said as I walked past.

‘Eric from accounting’ rang absolutely zero bells in my brain, but I figured I’d grab a slice.

My workplace was a big office suite located inside of a high rise. The data specialists had a corner of cubicles to themselves which budded up against the accounting cubicles. The marketing and supply-chain people had offices to themselves with glass walls and great views of the skyline. Of course, executives had a whole floor to themselves.

It wasn’t like us numbers-folk were in some dark hovel or anything, but it nagged at me when I crossed into the marketing offices and noted the differences between our office areas.

The lounge had a few people mingling around. I grabbed a slice of cake; it was chocolate. Not as good as vanilla, but it would do.

“Cath, oh, tell them about that funny saying your mee-maw always says. Mee-maw, isn’t that such a cute way to say grandma?” Layla, always in the center of all social gatherings, asked as I went towards the beverage station. She was standing in a loose circle with John and Vienna.

I filled a paper cup with some burnt coffee and made my way over to her.

“Good ol’ mee-maw,” I said, playing up my accent. “She says lots of things. But, the one that always gets Layla is well, that just dills my pickle!”

Layla laughed, batting at my arm as she doubled over. I stepped out of the way to avoid the contact.

“Ah, such southern charm,” she said, giggling.

It was hard to tell with Layla whether she was laughing at you or with you.

Just then, Isaac waltzed through the lounge doorway.

“Heard there was cake,” he said, and instantly made his way over to the cake and cut himself a large slice.

It’d been a few weeks since I’d seen him on New Year’s Eve. In that time, he seemed to have gotten a little bit plumper. His dress shirt was tight across the push of his belly. The buttons were pulling a bit on either side, puckered. I tracked his movements as he forked up a big bite of cake and stuffed it in his mouth.

Isaac made an appreciative noise before stabbing another piece with his fork.

I felt a blush creeping up my neck.

I sensed rather than saw Isaac’s eyes flick over towards me. I instinctively glanced down at my own plate, not wanting to be caught staring.

“We still on for the gym tomorrow?” John asked. I looked up. John was staring with concern towards Isaac’s middle.

“Course,” Isaac said through a mouthful of cake.

“Are you going to do cardio with me this time?” John asked in a lighter tone.

Isaac scoffed. “You know I gave up cardio for lent.”

Layla tilted her head. “Lent doesn’t start until the end of February,” she pointed out.

“Eh, I’m not particularly religious,” Isaac said, as though that explained everything.

Vienna laughed.

I couldn't suppress my own smile. I felt Isaac glance at me, but he quickly looked away before I could catch his eye.

“Well, that was delicious. Have a good weekend everybody,” Isaac said, throwing his empty plate into the trash. He waved and left the room.

There was a lull in the conversation, seemingly until Layla had declared Isaac as far enough away from the room to be able to talk about him without risk of being overheard.

“He got a bit chubby, didn’t he?” Layla said, her voice laced with concern. I bit my lip and said nothing.

John scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, he carries it well,” Vienna chimed in.

I nodded subtly. I itched to come to Isaac’s defense, but the urge to stay silent was stronger.

“I’m not trying to nag him, but he’s been eating loads. It is a little concerning, but I guess… He’s an adult,” John fragmentally explained.

“Of course! I only just noticed,” Layla said placatingly.

“Excuse me,” I said before hastily leaving the lounge. God, why was this messing with my head so much?

Maybe it was because Isaac was practically the human incarnation of my every fantasy. He’s been eating loads John had said… Oh God, now I was picturing Isaac sitting around, gorging on takeout, eating his way out of that tight dress shirt, buttons popping and flying off as he continued stuffing his fat face…

What the hell?? Stop thinking about this at work.

I knew I was flushing profusely, so I made haste towards the women's restroom.

Once inside I checked my face in the mirror. My mascara was flaking a bit after the long day, but other than that, I looked alright. I took a few deep breaths, counting to 10 in my head.

I felt much better as I was leaving the bathroom.

Well, I thought I would, except when I swung the door open, it opened directly into someone.

“Fiddlesticks, I’m so sor-,” I began, pausing when I glanced up and saw who I’d hit.

“No, don’t worry about it, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Isaac laughed a bit. “Payback for New Years.”

That knocked a surprised giggle from my chest.

“Oh, you know I was meaning to apologize for running into you the other day. Well, not for running into you, but for like actually physically bumping you,” Isaac said, an embarrassed flush warming his cheeks. “I’ve noticed you don’t seem to like being touched.”

I laughed again, slightly nervously. He noticed that? Oh, now he probably thinks I’m neurotic. Which… probably wasn’t so far off.

“No, it wasn’t a big deal. The square was super packed, it happens.” I was pleased at how nonchalant I sounded.

Isaac nodded. “And sorry for you know, interrupting you when you were on a date or whatever–”

“What?” I blurted, entirely lost.

Isaac glanced at me.

“You were with that um guy? He had his arms on you? I thought…”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I doubled over, cackling.

“No, no.” I sobered when I saw his embarrassed expression. “That, that was my friend Chris.” I said. Then after a beat, “Chris is gay.”

Isaac’s eyes widened and then he was laughing too. He looked relieved in some way, but I wasn’t sure.

“Ah, well. I’m an idiot, sorry about that. I just assumed.”

“No biggie,” I said, still smiling.

Isaac stared at his feet, kicking at the carpet with his heels.

“So since you’re not dating your gay friend, what are you doing Saturday?” I felt my eyebrows raise in shock. He misinterpreted my expression. “I mean, tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to go, no hard feelings. But I would like to take you out sometime. You know, to see you on purpose instead of randomly bumping into each other.” He smiled lopsidedly.

For some reason, I heard Chris’ voice in my head, urging me to say yes, you idiot!

“Yeah, that sounds great actually.”

It wasn’t until much later that night that I freaked out about it.

Oh, what have I gotten myself into?

This date was lightyears away from my awkward date with John. For one, I had butterflies. Actual butterflies, not the nervous sour awful kind, but the good kind, the kind that made your stomach feel like pop rocks.

For two, Isaac was sitting across from me in the tiny booth of a Jewish deli, which made him look somehow even bigger. Apparently this was his favorite spot, but I’d never been.

I closed my menu. “What should I get?”

Isaac eyed me, tilted his head, as though trying to read what I might like off of my face alone.

“Hot pastrami,” he decided.

“Okay,” I agreed easily.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a few things for us to share too. And if you don’t like it, I’ll happily eat your leftovers.”

My head swam with dirty thoughts at that, but luckily the waiter stopped by just then and saved me from having to reply.

“All decided?”

“Yeah, she’ll have the hot pastrami, and I’ll have the stuffed cabbage, a hushpuppy, and fried kreplach.”

Isaac gave a stunning smile and handed over our menus. I realized Isaac was someone who was self-assured, content. It was inspiring to me though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t also envious of these attributes.

Still, I couldn’t help but catch some of his infectious good mood and smile back.

“What in the world is a hushpuppy doing on the menu of a Jewish deli?” I asked.

“Right! I almost forgot you’re a southerner. Oh boy, you’re gonna love this, it’s a kosher hot dog, wrapped in mashed potatoes and baked until it gets all golden brown.” He leaned back and made a sound somewhere between a moan of please and ‘yum’.

“Oh my God,” I laughed. His stomach was looking quite plump from this angle.

I took a fortifying sip of iced water.

There was a tiny bit of awkward silence; my lack of experience on dates was making my arms itch.

“I’m wondering how to ask ‘tell me about yourself?’ without actually asking that,” Isaac said in faux seriousness. His eyes were alight with humor.

“Hmmm, that is a tricky one. You could always go with the classics. What do you do in your free time? Favorite color? Dog or cat person?” I trailed off, unable to think of any others. Isaac was laughing in earnest now though, so I suppose I’d done enough.

“Well, I like reading, watching movies, being with family, you know. All that wholesome stuff.” Isaac leaned forward and I was again taken aback by how stunning his smile was. “Favorite color… that’s tough. Maybe red? I maintain the right to change that answer anytime though,” he said, pointing at me.

“I’ll allow it,” I replied.

“And I’m a dog person. Now you go.”

I looked up, thinking. “I like reading, movies are good too. When I’m bored, I like going outside, walking, that sort of thing. Um, my favorite color’s got to be magenta. And I like cats and dogs equally.”

“Ah, now we’ve covered all the bases, haven’t we?” Isaac teased.

“Oh, definitely.”

Isaac glanced past me, and I turned to see our waiter heading our way.

“Oh, finally. I’m starving,” Isaac whispered conspiratorially.

My meal was placed in front of me, and I was shocked at how much food was here.

An open-faced sandwich, pilled high and surrounded by french fries.

But Isaac’s was even more full, plus the extras he’d ordered on top of his meal. Our table was crammed with plates of food.

We chatted a bit while we ate, but less so. Mostly because Isaac’s mouth was constantly filled.

I tapped out after eating about half of my food, but Isaac insisted I try a bit of stuffed cabbage, the weird potato hotdog, and the kreplach (which was actually very delicious).

I was rambling about the leaky sink in my apartment, which my landlord was resolutely ignoring, when Isaac finished the last of his food.

“You want mine?” I asked, pushing my plate towards him.

Isaac groaned, but nodded. He looked like he wanted to lay down, but he sat forward and stuffed bite after bite of my sandwich into his mouth until it was gone.

I pinched my thigh so hard it was likely to bruise, but it didn’t help.

I wanted to peel off the tight sweater, unbutton those slacks, feel that big bloated belly under my fingertips.

But, well. That was weird. Even if your date glutted himself out in front of you, you didn't have any right to feel them up. Right?

The waiter came by and picked up our empty plates, and Isaac ordered a coffee. He was probably very full, I thought to myself. Maybe he needed to digest a bit before he got up.

“Ahhh,” Isaac sighed into his coffee. “You know, I used to be a college athlete. Now I feel like I just ran a mile when all I did was stuff my face.”

He was probably going for self-depricating.

But, God, if that didn’t do something to me.

I felt my face go hot. I crossed my legs, but that made it worse.

“Oh, what’d you play?” I asked, as though I didn’t already know from my cyberstalking.

“Hockey,” he said. “Did you ever play any sports?”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t very interested in extracurriculars,” I said.

Isaac drained the last of his coffee and twisted his wrist to check his watch.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said, startled.

“It’s no problem. I’m glad to be here,” I said. He met my eyes and smiled. I melted a little.

Isaac paid the bill even though I offered to split it.

“You can get it next time,” he’d promised, and that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

We walked back towards my building. It was chilly, and so my hands were in my coat pockets. That was probably safer. If my hands were free I’d probably try to do something stupid like touch him.

All too soon, we were approaching the front steps.

“Thank you for dinner! I had a really great time,” I said. It was my usual line, but this time I meant it very sincerely.

“Catherine, I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’d really like to see you again.”

My breath caught.

“I’d like that too,” I agreed.

Isaac took a deliberate step closer to me.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I squeaked, voice too breathy, too quiet in the air between us.

He squinted at me. Licked his lips.

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

I nodded, shivering.

Isaac seemed to steel himself. His hands reached out to cup my face, not touching, but hovering just a bit away from my jaw. “Can I touch you?”

I leaned towards his hands. “Yes,” I whispered.

Isaac’s hand cupped my face, reeling me in. His other hand made its way to the small of my back, a comforting weight. The places where his hands were touching me felt electric. I slowly wound my arms around his neck.

He leaned in so incredibly slowly that I was nearly vibrating with want by the time our lips collided.

It was soft, hesitant, at first. Then I gave into it, letting myself lean against him. His belly pushed into my abdomen, and it was more satisfying than my fantasies had ever led me to believe. His head tilted, and our mouths slid together more securely.

I made a needy noise in the back of my throat and he held me tighter.

For once in my life, my mind and body were attuned as one, reacting the same. This passion, this longing, it was mirrored in the way Isaac held onto me, as though I was something precious. As though he didn’t want to let me go.

Sometimes I have these thoughts that make no sense. I know they’re not logical, that they’re well… crazy. But I still have them.

I remember one time I spiraled really bad. My brain convinced me that no one even knew me. No one had ever known me, really. That no one cared about my existence. If I died, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing mattered. That I was invisible and unwanted and I had to text my sister Ciara to make it stop.

ME: You care about me right?

She’d texted back after a few minutes.

CIARA: Of course

And I didn’t believe her. But I put on a youtube video and after a few hours of mindless media consumption I remembered that my family loved me.

I was trying really hard to keep Isaac from seeing me spiral.

Usually when I had those weird trains of thought it took time to dig myself out. For rational thought to finally wrestle its way back into my mind.

But I’d been spending a lot of time with Isaac. And that meant the chances of revealing my fully unhinged self to him increased.

I know about probabilities okay, I’m a data specialist.

But, after our fantastic first date, Isaac and I started seeing each other with regularity. We would eat lunch together, sometimes in the staff lounge, but sometimes if we had time, we’d walk to a bodega and get a sub or something.

And a few times a week we would make plans to see each other after work. We texted in between dates, or during the work day. I spied my contact in his phone and noticed there was a heart emoji next to my name.

It was quickly becoming ‘dating’ rather than ‘seeing each other’. I wanted to ask about being in an exclusive relationship, but I’d yet to get the nerve.

But being with Isaac was just great. It really was. The more I learned about him, the more I liked him.

I really liked him.

And I noticed, because I spent so much time with him now, that Isaac seemed to be intentionally getting fat.

There were a few signs which led me to this conclusion:

Isaac would push himself to eat as much as he could at every meal even if he was full, groaning and subtly rubbing the sides of his gut, he’d still eat more.

Isaac bought a whole new set of clothes, which was only practical. BUT! But he bought them… big. That’s right, they were baggy on him. Which… why would someone do that if they weren’t expecting to keep getting bigger?

Isaac was probably onto me and my weird fetishes and he almost seemed to be leaning into it. Because he would say things, provocatively, but still subtle enough that it wasn’t super obvious, about his weight gain.

I remember one time we’d gotten ice cream and were walking around central park. Isaac had eaten a huge meatball sub for lunch and I could tell he was pretty stuffed. But he still suggested ice cream with a glint in his eye. And he tracked my reaction closely, I could feel the heat on my cheeks, I’m sure my pupils were dilating a little. And then he’d pushed his stomach out further, ‘stretching his back’ and a sliver of his belly peaked out from beneath his shirt.

“Oh, I guess I probably didn’t need that ice cream,” he said, tugging his shirt down and smoothing a hand over his rounded belly. It was a ball, defying gravity and sticking straight out. The rest of him was starting to fill out a bit more as well, but his belly was by far the most obvious feature.

I stammered, mind going blank until I eventually mumbled something about ice cream being delicious.

Isaac smiled knowingly and took my hand. He put it on his side, where his puffy love handle met his back in a roll. It wasn’t inherently weird, couples touched each other’s sides casually. But.

But Isaac watched me so closely and I let my hand do what it wanted, to sink into that flabby flesh.

And Isaac sort of, smirked? Not condescendingly. More… secretly pleased.

And after that it became normal for Isaac to initiate touching around his midsection.

Because of who I am as a person, I wasn’t ever the one initiating these touches, because I was too nervous. But Isaac seemed to like it when my hands were on him. And I liked it to.

And so it became normal for Isaac to put my hands on his gut after a big meal and I’d lightly run my hands along his bloated belly, taught after a binge.

But what we didn’t do was talk about it.

Until I walked into what seemed like a fairly tense conversation.

“Why am I always the bad guy when I’m trying to look out for you?” John hissed, a whisper that was scathing in its intensity.

I stopped short of coming into the doorway of Isaac’s office, shocked.

“You’re not the bad guy, I’m just sick of your nagging. I don’t need it and I don’t want it.” Isaac’s reply was calmer, but still intense.

“Jesus christ.” John sounded like he’d begun pacing, letting out exasperated sounds as he did so.

“You’re my oldest friend. You should support me, fat or thin,” Isaac said quietly, and his voice sounded so… sad.

I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping but it felt too dangerous to try and back away now that they’d gotten so quiet.

John let out a wounded noise. “It’s not that I’m upset you’re fat. I love you, no matter what you look like. But you’re not letting me help you get this weight under control. And that hurts.” It sounded like a tired argument, like John had been trying it for some time now to no avail.

“I’m gonna be late for Catherine,” Isaac said coldly, a clear dismissal.

I panicked, and slowly inched backwards, trying to act like I’d just rounded the corner.

Isaac walked out of his office right as I approached, and I forced a casual smile onto my face.

“Hey! So, I was thinking we could try this Indian place? I read they have really good deals on Thursdays,” Isaac said, perfectly normal. As though nothing happened.

“Sounds great,” I said.

Later, after Isaac had eaten his fill of butter chicken and naan, we went back to my apartment.

It wasn’t like that. We hadn’t been doing anything more than kissing. And Isaac seemed good with that. He hadn’t asked, let alone pressured me like I’d expected he would after a few dates. I wondered if I should feel mad that he hadn’t. Maybe he didn’t find me attractive?

But, sometimes when we hugged, I could, ah, feel how attracted he was to me. So that probably wasn’t it.

I put on an action movie and we snuggled close. He carefully draped my arm across his belly, where it puffed out under his chest. I squeezed in closer and he laughed softly over my head.

The movie was terrible, but in a really awesome way. The protagonist had just strutted away from a collapsing building as it blew up behind him when Isaac spoke.

“Would you judge me if I said I was hungry again?”

I wet my lips, feeling overwhelmed.

“No,” I said. That seemed like a safe answer. Then I realized I was being a bad host. “Would you like something? I have some girl scout cookies, or if you want something more I have frozen pizza rolls?”

I could hear my mee-maw’s voice in my head tutting at me for not having anything freshly baked to offer my guest.

“I could go for both, if that’s okay.”

I squeezed Isaac tighter and then let go to get his cookies and pizza rolls. My face and neck were probably visibly red from arousal and embarrassment. I felt like a kid who’d just been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. But I wasn’t. I was just putting pizza rolls into my air fryer and getting cookies out of my cupboard.

I grabbed a can of sprite out of my fridge, because he probably wanted something to drink. And well. Soda had bubbles. It’d make Isaac a little more bloated… I need professional help.

“Samoas! My favorite! I’ll totally buy you a new box, don’t worry.” Isaac quickly opened the box and shoved a cookie into his mouth.

I smiled, didn’t trust my voice to say anything, and turned back towards the movie. I snuggled in close, but didn’t wrap myself around Isaac like I’d been doing earlier so his hands were free to eat.

It was strange that I loved touching Isaac when normally contact with other human beings made me feel gross. I’d yet to fully understand that.

But anyways, Isaac stuffed his face with cookies, pausing to drink his soda and letting out little burps as he did so. He’d always mutter, “Excuse me,” when he did. I shifted, feeling something stir inside me. I wanted so much it was making me antsy.

Then the pizza rolls were done, so I put them on a plate and came back.

I saw the empty cookie box and smiled to myself.

Isaac was looking very bloated. His big ol’ gut was puffed out, and it drooped a little into his lap. He still had those crazy big shoulders, but they looked proportional. His arms had softened up, a little flabby. I rested my head on one and sighed. I could hear, feel, and see Isaac steadily eating his way through the pizza rolls. He was groaning a little. Clearly full, but desperate for a little more.

When he finished, he tried to reach over and put the plate down on the coffee table, but he couldn’t quite get there with his big bloated belly so stuffed and tender, so he gave up and set it down next to him on the couch.

“God, thanks. No wonder I’m getting so fat. Been eating like a damn fiend lately.”

My face was most definitely beet red, so I just nuzzled under his arm and put myself back into my old position. Isaac let himself be maneuvered until I was comfortable.

“I’m…” Isaac started but then trailed off. The movie was ending, the protagonist kissing some sexy twenty-something as a pop rock song came on.

“Mmm what?” I asked drowsily. He was so warm and soft. His tummy was gurgling, trying to digest.

“I’m not reading into things am I?” Isaac paused and I waited for him to continue. “You like this too?” He patted the side of his belly.

I leaned away from him to look at his face. It was pink, but he held my gaze unflinchingly.

I took a breath. “No, you’re not reading into things.”

Isaac broke out into his signature grin.

“Thank fuck,” he said vehemently. I smiled back, feeling relief and simultaneously immense panic.

“So, you- you are gaining weight on purpose?” I asked hesitantly.

“Er, yeah.” Isaac scratched at his neck. “It’s like. Well. We should probably just be honest, huh?”

He looked nervous, I realized. I’d never seen him like that.

“Yeah. Honest.”

He nodded. “So, I’ve always wanted to get fat. I mean, I was a little chubby as a kid, but then I got into sports so I kind of had to stay in shape. But now that I can afford to, you know, buy tons of food and new clothes…” He laughed sheepishly. “I figured why not? So I started like, doing stuffings and. Yeah. I like it.” Isaac’s face was a little pink but he was beaming.

I didn’t quite know what to say.

Isaac nudged me. “What about you? Is that why you didn’t go on a second date with John? Because he’s a toothpick?”

His words had some humor to them but I could sense genuine curiosity underneath.

“Yeah, I mean. I wasn’t, um, attracted to him. Or, really. Anybody. Until you.”

It felt like a huge admission. Isaac rubbed my back and I felt better.

“So, I guess we should discuss, like what things we’re into? And what we aren’t.”

That seemed very sensible so I nodded.

“For me,” Isaac said. “I want to keep gaining. I don’t have a goal weight or anything right now, but I know I’m not fat enough yet.” He smacked his belly for emphasis. I tracked the movement, felt my face heat. He watched me, and it was like some invisible wall was down and I knew that he knew I was hot all over at the sight. “But I’m into stuffing, obviously. I would definitely be down for you to stuff me, if that’s something you’d be into.”

“I-I would definitely be into that,” my mouth said without my consent. But Isaac thought my reaction was funny, or cute. He was smiling at me indulgently.

“Alright. So you like watching me eat, you’d be interested in helping me eat… What else?”

I took a second to think.

“I think maybe like, trying on old clothes? Keeping rough track of your weight. Like, maybe occasionally taking measurements, but mainly just having you weigh yourself sometimes to see your progress…” I realized as I started speaking that these desires had been brimming under the surface for such a long time. I’d never been able to imagine I’d ever get to do any of them though.

“Alright, that’s very doable. Any hard limits?” Isaac asked.

“I don’t want to be, you know, mean to you. I know some people are into degradation but, um. No, I won’t do that.”

Isaac nodded. “Not a problem. I think it’s the same for me. I want to be carefree, let my gluttony run wild.”

“You seem to be doing well at that so far,” I said and patted the biggest part of his belly.

He laughed and hugged me close to him.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you like me like this,” he whispered, a little serious.

I melted into his embrace. “Me too.”

CHIRS: how’s it going with ur boytoy ;)

ME: good!

ME: I think we’re very compatible.

CHRIS: when do i get to properly meet this man

ME: Idk i'll plan something soon and let you know

We planned to have a big stuffing day on the weekend. Isaac said he wanted to test his capacity at eating all day. And I suggested we keep track of the calories so we’d know how much to aim for next time.

I was freakishly excited about it.

I got a ton of calorie-rich groceries delivered – store made cakes, frozen pizzas, premade dumplings, and tons of snack foods. And we planned to order takeout periodically depending on Isaac’s cravings.

I had a journal ready where I was going to jot down everything Isaac would be able to eat that day. Maybe it was a little Type A of me, but hey, for once my neurotic brain was working with me.

Isaac picked up a dozen donuts on his way to my apartment that morning, and by the time he arrived on my doorstep, he’d already eaten two.

“Sorry,” he’d said but I shushed him.

“You’re a growing boy.” I watched Isaac’s eyes glaze over a little. I quickly ushered him to the couch where he’d spend the majority of the day.

Now, the real fun could begin!

The day was off to a wonderful start. I was, possibly for the first time, truly letting myself look at Isaac the way I wanted to.

Lustily, adoringly.

He’d always had an imposing figure, with his height and abnormally wide shoulders. He was naturally big. And of course his new weight was extenuating these features quite nicely. His belly was the most obviously pudgey area, but I noticed that his jaw was softening and his arms, while still looking well-muscled where they poked out of his t-shirt, were looking softer as well. Likewise his chest had lost definition, but not mass. I wanted to straddle his lap and let my hands sink into those soft mounds above his belly, really feel how fluffy they were getting.

I felt surprised at my own reaction, how bad my body wanted. God, Isaac made me lose my head a little.

Isaac got comfortable and proceeded to eat half of the dozen donuts, sipping on some whole milk to wash them down, before he took a short break.

We were watching some legal drama on TV and I rubbed his belly a little, which was jigglier than usual. Probably because it was the morning and he hadn’t eaten enough for it to be taut and full. My hand looked comically small in comparison to his big tummy.

After a while Isaac went back to the donuts and somehow finished another three in quick succession. The last three were more of a chore. He was pretty full and the donuts were dense.

“Just a little more,” I said, and pushed bites past his lips.

Isaac groaned, but dutifully ate bite after bite until they were all gone.

We kissed for a while after that, and he tasted like donuts. His hands were latched around my waist. It made me feel unreasonably hot when I realized how big his hands were on my sides; his fingertips were nearly touching where they curved around my ribs.

But after about a half an hour Isaac said he was no longer completely full and so I got him some chips and salsa.

“Hmm, this is really good,” Isaac said between bites.

“Let me try one,” I said. It was pretty good. Salty chips and sweet salsa that had a slight kick once you swallowed.

I got up and grabbed my notebook.

12 donuts

Half a bag of tortilla chips & salsa

“It feels a bit like you’re studying me for science when you write like that.”

I glanced up, blushing.

“Sorry,” I said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I don’t mind being a science project. At least, not when you’re doing it,” Isaac said with a shrug.

I felt warm and fuzzy inside.

By now his belly was filling up, not really a true bloat just yet, but getting there. I put a frozen pizza in the oven.

“Seemed like this would be easier,” Isaac said, leaning as far back as he could. His belly was pushed out and he rubbed the sides of it consolingly. “I feel like I eat a ton normally, but having so much so early in the day is making me feel like a total blimp.”

I hummed and made my way behind the couch, put my hands on his shoulders and started gently massaging them.

He sighed in contentment.

The oven dinged and I hopped up to get the pizza out.

“You don’t have to eat it all now,” I said, handing Isaac a big plate filled with pizza.

Isaac groaned but started eating dutifully.

“Yeah I do,” he said between bites. “Won’t taste as good reheated.”

I laughed.

I watched, transfixed, as Isaac shoved slice after slice into his mouth. His belly bloated bigger and bigger.

Isaac paused to drink some water. “Salty,” he muttered.

“Let me,” I said as I reached to unbutton his jeans. He looked relieved as I pulled the zipper down and his belly was able to spill forward a little. It wasn’t big enough to really hang down, but Isaac spread his legs anyway. Gave himself a bit more room.

Isaac rubbed the red line where his jeans had been cutting into his belly a little, and then went back to eating.

He couldn’t possibly be hungry at all. In fact, he’d looked like he was getting to a point of overfullness where he looked a little queasy.

“Fuck me,” Isaac groaned when he picked up the final slice.

I ran a soothing hand over the dome of his belly.

He finished the slice.

Isaac fell asleep when I went to wash some of the dishes. He looked so cute with his shirt pulled up to his belly button, jeans open, and head tilted back against the couch.

I felt a fluttery feeling in my chest and I knew I was in trouble.

I made myself a sandwich and cleaned up a bit, trying not to be a creep and just watch Isaac sleep. But I did glance over often. He was just so cute.

Isaac woke up around 3 and I put out some snacks, trail mix and pretzels, which Isaac grazed on a little.

For dinner, I ordered chinese.

Isaac got crab rangoons, kung pao chicken, and lo mein. I got garlic chicken.

“God, I’m still stuffed. Haven’t been hungry since 9 this morning,” Isaac groaned. Still, he loaded up his plate and sat back.

“You’re doing so well,” I said supportively. “Eating a lot at once probably takes some practice. You know? Just like anything else.”

Isaac eyed me. “You’re saying we should do this more often? For training, of course?”

I blushed but nodded at him.

“Good with me,” Isaac said.

He slowed down by the time his first entree was gone. He’d eaten about half of the crab rangoons.

I was finished with my portion, had put the rest in the fridge for my lunch tomorrow.

I let myself do what I wanted to do all day and swung my leg over him, got onto his lap.

Isaac seemed surprised but not at all bothered to have me in his lap.

“Let me,” I said, taking the plate from him. I filled the fork and lifted it to his lips.

“Mmm,” he mumbled into the bite. He relaxed further, let me keep putting food into his mouth until he groaned for a break. I put the plate aside, felt his bloated belly. It was thick with all of the food he’d eaten. Puffed out and stiff under my fingers. I was gentle as I ran my hands along his stomach.

He burped into his fist a few times, which I think gave him a bit more room.

“I can take more now,” he said.

I fed him bite after bite until it was gone, until he’d eaten everything. I got up to put the dishes in the sink. When I came back, Isaac was huffing and groaning.

“Oh god,” he moaned, holding onto his belly like his hands were the only things keeping it from splitting open.

I bit my lip, felt my insides heat at the sight.

“I’m never getting up again,” he whined. “I think I’m going to live on your sofa forever. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I really don’t mind,” I said, voice like honey. He looked up at me, blushing beet red.

Eventually Isaac wanted to get vertical, and I helped him up and into my bathroom so he could take a shower.

I used that time to update my notes.

12 donuts, 290 cal each = 3,480 total calories

Half bag of tortilla chips = 980 calories

Two cups of salsa = 134 calories

Frozen pizza = 2,269 calories

About a cup of pretzels = ~300 calories

About two cups of trail mix = 1,386 calories

Crab rangoons = 732 calories

Kung pao chicken = 781 calories

Lo mein = 897 calories

Total =10,959

“Holy cannoli,” I murmured to myself.

Isaac walked in shortly after, his hair was wet and he’d put on some comfy sweatpants.

“You ate almost 11,000 calories today,” I said without preamble.

Isaac sighed, rubbed his big belly.

“Yeah, feels like it. Do you mind if I stay over?”

I’d offered when we had planned this. But it was still nice to be asked, to double check that it was alright.

“Of course.” He smiled a little. “Just, just for sleeping,” I clarified. I was suddenly very embarrassed.

But all Isaac said was, “Good with me.”

That night, when Isaac was completely passed out in a food coma in my bed, I laid wide awake. Once Isaac had fallen asleep, it was like I was alone. Even though he was a few inches from me, I felt totally alone.

I had been so happy and present in my body while we’d been doing it, when I’d been watching Isaac eat and feeding him myself. But.

But now I felt like a black hole had opened up inside my chest.

I found myself questioning this whole thing. Is this ethical? Feeding someone? Making them fatter? Even if they want it, there was probably more to it. Was it objectively bad? It didn’t feel like it should be bad but…

I scrolled through my phone, which ended up being a horrible idea. Because I came across some stupid click-bait article about how some young healthy guy had dropped dead after sitting still for too long. A blood clot went to his lungs after a 3 day bender of playing video games and not moving.

And that was the end of that. I threw my phone onto my side table and sat up. I paced.

Didn’t want to wake Isaac.

But I also really wanted to wake up Isaac. Because what if he had a blood clot? What if him sitting on my couch all day, and then laying down on my bed all night, was going to kill him?

I knew I was being crazy, but I was actually about two seconds from losing it, and so I woke Isaac up.

I shook his shoulder.

“Mm?” Isaac mumbled, stirring a bit.

When his eyes opened I was entirely mortified.

What was I supposed to say? I’ve been having this irrational fear that if you don't stand up and walk around for a bit you’re going to die.

No. No, I couldn’t. But now he was looking at me with concern, his brows pulling together in concern.

“I,” I began but nothing else was forthcoming.

“What’s wrong? Catherine?”

My ears were buzzing.

“Um,” I said. And promptly started tearing up.

“Shit, c’mere,” Isaac said, pulling me into his arms.

I allowed this for a moment, because being against his soft body felt nice, but the anxieties were still there, brimming under my skin.

“No,” I said, pulling away. “C-can you, yeah come,” I said, disjointedly, but Isaac allowed himself to be pulled to his feet by me.

“Okay, what are we doing?” Isaac asked. I intertwined our arms and started dragging Isaac towards the bedroom door. He was being a remarkably good sport about all this, I noticed. If someone had woken me out of a dead sleep, started crying on me, and then 30 seconds later was tugging me around their apartment, I would probably be livid.

“Walk with me,” I said instead of actually answering. I led him around the perimeter of the living room, like it was a track.

“So, is there a reason I’m walking laps instead of sleeping right now?” Isaac asked. There was a lightness to his tone, but it couldn’t completely disguise his worry.

Seeing him, up and about, acting fine, made me absolutely mortified at my overreaction. But it was also so relieving. See, brain? He’s fine.

“I, well. I get like this sometimes,” I started. My palms were sweaty. I wiped them on my pajama pants. “Like, I have stupid thoughts and I don’t know how to shut them up. So, um, we’re walking so I can prove to myself that my brain is actually wrong and you’re fine.”

It was more than I meant to say, but Isaac hummed, kept walking with me. He seemed to be letting my words marinate.

“Did your brain convince you that I was in fact, not fine?” Isaac asked after a moment.

I shrugged helplessly. “Yeah.”

I saw Isaac nod in my periphery. “And what made your brain think that?”

It was a fair question. Isaac was taking this pretty well, all things considered. I mean, if he dumped me after this, I would understand. But for now, he was still walking with me. Still had my arm in his.

“It’s, you were sitting all day. And, well. I don’t want you to get a blood clot.” I mumbled, getting quieter towards the end of my sentence.

“I see,” Isaac said. “So next time I should get up and walk a bit when we’re doing stuffings. Do you think that’ll help ease your worries?”

I stopped walking and Isaac did too. I looked up at him. I was sure my face was red but I didn't really care.

“You still want to do this again?” I whispered.

Isaac smiled. “Course. But I would like to make sure you don’t get so worried next time.” He ran his hands down the sides of my arms reverently.

I felt my eyes water, with exhaustion or emotion, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t trust my voice, so I just leaned in to hug him.

“Okay. Do you feel better? Think you can get some sleep now?” Isaac asked, rubbing my back.

I nodded into his chest.

He ushered me back into bed, pulled the covers over me, pulled me into his arms.

“You still like me, even though I’m sort of crazy?” I asked in the dark. It was easier when I wasn’t able to see his face.

Isaac exhaled a soft laugh.

“You’re not crazy.” I huffed in disbelief and he amended, “Not actually crazy. An understandable sort of crazy. And why would that make not like you? Have you seen you?” Isaac tsked and I couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t like I didn’t know Isaac was attracted to me, but it still left me a little breathless to hear him mention it.

“I guess that’s understandable,” I huffed.

I felt Isaac kiss my forehead.

“Go to sleep.”

So I did.

Isaac had told me in college he’d been about 170 lbs. He’d gotten a little fluffier over the years, putting his best estimate at being around 190 when he’d been first introduced to me. But since then, he’d started gaining on purpose, putting on almost 40 pounds from October to December. I recalled how noticeable that gain was, how it seemed like so much difference in such a small amount of time. It had been evident in his big belly, how it rounded out in front of him. But still, at 6’3, 227 lbs wasn’t all that much. He’d just looked beefy. A sort of imposing figure softened with a pudgy middle.

But that wasn’t the case any longer. Isaac had graduated from dad bod firmly into chubby territory. By March, Isaac was sitting at a solid 269. And boy did it show.

Ever since my mortifying spiral, Isaac had been so insanely accommodating of my illogical worries, it made me feel simultaneously like crap and also feel so amazingly warm. And he’d talked me down from a few freakouts since then. Mostly it had to do with me thinking that Isaac was going to get sick and die (he did neither). And Isaac reassured me by getting a checkup (he had a clean bill of health) and eating lots of vegetables (because I remembered scurvy existed).

We still hadn’t had sex.

But at this point, I was waiting for Isaac to bring it up. It felt like I’d let it go too long without saying anything and now it would be awkward to bring it up…

Still, I had never even thought that I could find someone who would like me once they got to know me. Or more accurately, that I would be able to feel attraction for someone who felt the same about me. And so really, sex with Isaac was as terrifying as it was exciting to think about. I would be alright if we held off a little longer.

“And then Isaac made me watch this movie with him, oh gosh, it’s so funny, I can’t even remember the name of it, but you’d love it. I’ll ask him later and text you the title.” I was rambling about Isaac. Had been for the last 10 minutes, I knew, but as I was folding my laundry before 6 in the morning, I was too tired to care.

“So I take it you and Isaac are doing pretty well?” Chris asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” I hummed rather dreamily. “We’re exclusive now, did I tell you that?”

“Um, no you certainly did not!” Chris gave me his best disappointed dad look.

I laughed. “Well, we are. An item that is. I should be like, carving our initials into a tree at this point.”

Chris barked a laugh. “You really like him don’t you?” Chris teased, but his gaze was far too knowing for comfort. I don’t know what my face did, but it only spurred Chris on. “Oh my god, you’re falling in loveeee.” He sang, clutching boxer briefs to his chest dramatically. At least they were fresh out of the dryer.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, but I couldn't keep a grin off my face.

“I need to meet this guy. Like, meet him as your partner. Because, I know I met him. But. Really, it’s gone on long enough, I need to give him the shovel talk. You should take him out this weekend, I have a gig at Celia’s.”

It was tempting, if only because Chris, or Moxie, as was his stage name, was a really good performer. And I sort of did want Isaac to meet my friends. Who all happened to be gay in some way. Huh, I wonder if that factored into my ability to connect with other people somehow. I was weird as heck, a girl whose sexuality was basically ‘bellies’. But well, the LGBT+ community had always been a kind of haven for whomever society deemed to be outcasts or weirdos…

“Yeah, I’ll ask him today,” I said, and Chris squealed in delight. He was way too chipper for 5:47 am if you asked me. But, he also hadn’t gone to bed yet.

“Ask him,” Chris said, giving me a warning finger pointed my way. He stuffed all his clothes into his basket without folding them. Ugh, such a guy.

After almost 3 months of dating, Isaac and I attended our first work banquet together. You know, as a couple.

“Does this tie make me look like an asshole?” Isaac asked.

I watched as Isaac fiddled with his collar in my bathroom mirror. It was a bit tight where his neck was getting thicker, a double chin imminent. I focused my attention on the tie. It had four leaf clovers on it.

“I think it’s fun,” I said. I was straightening my hair, trying to get my hair to lay flat, but it wasn’t going as well as planned. I probably needed an actual silk press, but who had time for that?

“Well, if Catherine thinks it’s fun, it must be,” Isaac said.

I shoved Isaac’s chest playfully. My hand sunk a little bit into his plushy flesh and I bit my lip.

“Almost ready?” he asked. Isaac’s eyes were dark, and his arm wound around my waist. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

We arrived at the banquet on time.

The banquet was a lot more fun with Isaac at my side. I never realized how isolated I had made myself at these events. I thought it was because I didn't want to make small talk, but I don’t think that was true. I just didn’t feel comfortable. But with Isaac there, it was easy. He knew everybody. Everyone seemed to like him. And by proxy, they liked me because I’m Isaac’s girlfriend. As the night went on, I talked more, opening up and chatting with new people. I hardly talked to Layla at all, and I honestly didn't miss it.

Dinner was another mediocre affair, roasted potatoes and a small filet of salmon. But Isaac had hit the appetizer tables pretty hard before, so I figured it would do.

“God, this belt is killing me,” Isaac whispered to me once his plate was clear. I glanced at his belt, and sure enough, it looked tight. Tighter than it had earlier this evening.

“Can’t you loosen it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It’s on its last notch.” Isaac’s face was a little proud.

“Oh,” I muttered. My face was probably pink, so I took a sip of water. Isaac laughed a little and placed a big hand on my back.

I was relieved when we left, though I noticed Isaac had been avoiding John all night. I didn’t want to pry, but they were close friends. I wondered if they’d fought again. But Isaac didn’t tell me those sorts of things. The only reason I suspected it was because of my accidental eavesdropping. Maybe Isaac thought knowing he and his friend were arguing over his weight would make me worry unnecessarily.

“How far is Celia’s from here?” Isaac asked once we’d started walking. The March air was brisk, but it felt sort of nice.

“Five blocks,” I said. “Did you eat too much?” It hadn't seemed like it.

Isaac shook his head. “Hardly. It’s this fucking belt. Feel like it’s cutting me in half.”

I pulled us to the side of the walk way.

“What’re you doing?” Isaac asked when I reached for his pants. I said nothing but smiled in a way I hoped was attractive.

Though it wasn’t easy, eventually I was able to unhook the belt and pull it off.

Isaac laughed. “What, I’m supposed to carry that all night now?”

I shook my head. “It won’t fit ever again, right?” I asked. His eyes glazed over a bit, and he shook his head. “Right,” I said, and tossed the belt into a trash bin.

“Ready to go?” I asked innocently. Isaac kissed me hard.

The bar called Celia’s was disgusting. But also very very cool. The floor probably contained diseases unknown to modern medicine, but the atmosphere was so fun and energetic, it hardly even mattered.

“PEACH!!!” I had hardly made it through the threshold, but somehow Sid had already spotted us. I gave Isaac a sympathetic glance and tugged him towards the bar where Sid and our friends were standing.

I could hardly hear over the music, but somehow Sid’s voice still boomed.

“Oh my god, Peach I’ve missed you! You get a boyfriend and all the sudden you’re not free every weekend to hang out. It’s so sad! Oh, and you’re the boyfriend,” Sid shouted, looking from me to Isaac. He wasn’t slurring but he was most definitely drunk.

“That would be me,” Isaac said. He was taller than mostly everyone, and he just seemed to take up so much space in the crowded bar. It was hot, I had to admit.

“Awww, he’s so cute! Guys, look how cute Peach and her boyfriend are,” Sid cooed.

Amy, Ty, and Jinx all mumbled their agreement in their various stages of intoxication.

“How long until Moxie comes on?” I asked Sid.

Sid checked the time on his phone. “Like, two minutes ago!”

We both cackled. These gigs never stayed on schedule.

“Do you want a drink?” Isaac whispered in my ear. His hand hovered protectively over my hip, and I leaned into him.

“Just a coke?” I said.

Sid scoffed. “Our Peach is so responsible. I always try to get her drunk at a bar but she refuses.”

Isaac glanced down at me, amused. I huffed, indignant.

“Who wants to waste $9 on some fancy shot when I could make my own for a fraction of the price. And I could drink it at home where I know I won’t get knapped!”

Sid full on cackled at me.

“You’re the best Peach, oh wow. I love you!” Sid breathed, pulling me in for a sticky hug.

Isaac returned a few minutes later with my coke and a beer for himself.

Jinx leaned over to me and drunk-whispered (meaning everyone in a ten mile radius could probably hear them), “You’re dating like, the hottest bear I’ve ever seen.” The way they said it suggested they were well versed on the subject.

I felt my cheeks turn bright red.

“Shut up, you’re the worst!” They just laughed at me.

“Ohmyygod, everyone stop, here she comes!” Sid said, grabbing anyone he could reach. This happened to include Isaac’s arm.

I shrugged in apology, but Isaac seemed only charmed by it.

The lights on the small stage came on and Moxie was there in all her glory.

She had on a leotard and fishnets, seven inch heels, and a wig big enough to be seen from outer space.

Then a Brittany Spears song came on and Moxie started dancing and lip syncing. She was strutting around the stage like she owned it, and whipping her wig all around. It was so fun to watch. The crowd screamed anytime she looked their way. Sid was the loudest, yelling, “THAT’S MY BABY!” so loud it made me wince.

Moxie ended up doing five songs before introducing the next queen and exiting.

“What’d you think?” I shouted to Isaac. He had to bend over to hear me over the music.

“She slayed,” Isaac said stone-faced.

There was something absolutely hilarious about someone as heterosexual and male as Isaac saying ‘slay’ that it made me absolutely weak in the knees. I nearly fell over laughing.

Moxie came out from backstage to mingle with us after a little while. It was fun seeing Isaac have to look up at Moxie, since her heels gave her a height advantage over someone as tall as Isaac.

“You’re an incredible performer. Um, you have a lot of stage presence,” Isaac was saying.

Moxie absolutely ate it up.

She turned to me, pleadingly.

“Cath, please keep this one? Pretty please?? I like him so much.”

Isaac gave me a smug look, like yes I charmed your friends, of course they love me.

“Wasn’t planning on getting rid of him,” I said, snuggling up under his arm.

A chorus of, “Ahh, look at them, they’re so cute! Babies!!!” followed.

“Your friends are way cooler than mine,” Isaac said on the way home. We were huddled in close as we walked to Isaac’s apartment.

I giggled and leaned into his side.

The air was charged when we reached Isaac’s building.

I felt a pull from the pit of my stomach. Isaac seemed to feel it too in the way he was avoiding looking at me. His cheeks were pink but I didn't think it was from the cold.

“Um, do you have a shirt I could borrow?” I asked once I’d gotten my shoes off. Isaac was unbuttoning his collar and it was unreasonably attractive. He nodded and I watched his chin double with the movement.

“You’re gonna swim in it but here,” Isaac said, handing me a t-shirt. I peeled off my clothes and pulled the shirt over my head. It fell to my mid-thigh.

“Thanks.”

A loaded silence followed.

“You tired?” Isaac asked. It was after 2 a.m.

“No.”

Time seemed to be moving very fast, but it also felt a bit like it was moving slow. Like pouring molasses in January, and also like watching a YouTube video at 1.75 speed.

Isaac pulled me flush against him, and his belly pressed against my small torso. He cupped my head in his big hands and tilted his face down towards mine. Our lips touched, like they had many times before.

Nothing about this kiss felt like those though.

Isaac’s tongue invaded my mouth and I couldn’t hold back a tiny whimper.

“Cath…”

I pushed my face against his chest, breathing hard. My face felt like it was on fire.

“Do you…?” Isaac asked.

Now or never, I thought.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” I said. Isaac pulled me to his room so fast we almost fell over.

Sex was different than I’d imagined it. I don’t know what I thought it’d be like. Maybe some kind of childish delusion was coloring my expectations. ‘True love or stars colliding. But the real version was better. It was flesh on flesh, sweaty and hot. It was laughing when your bodies made a weird squelching noise. It was seeing pores and moles and other imperfections.

It made me appreciate that I was physically here. That I was with Isaac carnally and he still wanted me. He wanted me so much we went at it twice before dawn.

We ate leftover Chinese food as the sun came up and it was so perfect. So absolutely astoundingly perfect.

I had the most awful, terrifying thought as I watched the sun shine onto Isaac’s curls. I love him.

It was horrible and gross and awe-inspiring and amazing and disturbing and great. I felt like my chest was full to bursting.

After that, Isaac and I grew closer in a lot of ways. For one, we started having sex a lot. Like four or five times a week. Sometimes more.

For two, Isaac and I got closer emotionally. I learned lots about him as we lay together at night, cuddling naked in the dark.

Isaac’s mom is Catholic and his dad is Jewish. Isaac’s grandma makes the best lemon bars. Isaac doesn't have siblings but his cousin Tyler is basically like a brother to him.

And Isaac learned about me as well. That my sister Ciara is sort of a mess even though she pretends she’s not. That my dad left when I was 7. That my mom is the nicest person in the world and she deserves everything.

That I love Isaac.

His face was awe-struck.

“I love you too, Catherine,” Isaac said. And I had already sort of known that. But it still lit me up inside.

Isaac hit 300 lbs in June.

It was a huge milestone, and he’d worked hard for it, eating loads to try and put on weight faster.

“I think I finally got my metabolism to slow down a bit,” Isaac confessed to me. And it was true that he was gaining faster as of late. He’d had to get new clothes. His build was decidedly top-heavy, with his belly easily being the largest feature. It stuck out in front of him, wide and thick and when he sat, it rested on his thighs. His sides started to acquire rolls where his love handles melted into his sides. His face was puffier, with the most kissable cheeks.

It was endlessly attractive to me.

It seemed like everything was going really well for me. At work, I got a promotion that came with a nice raise. I was happier than I’d ever remembered being.

Maybe I should have figured that it couldn’t last.

“Cath, hey! I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately!”

I knew that voice even though I didn’t look up from the bathroom sink where I was washing my hands.

“Hey Layla. Yeah, it’s been a busy few months,” I said, plastering on a smile. When I glanced up, I saw her in the mirror a few sinks down.

“Oh sure, sure!” Layla dried her hands on a paper towel. “I was meaning to ask you, how are things with Isaac?”

I paused, hands still wet. “Good, we’re. We’re good.”

Layla smiled easily. “That’s great. Really, I am happy for you. You know, it was strange when John and I started seeing one another, but I’m so glad you found someone. And John’s best friend no less! Why haven’t we done a double date?”

I felt something twist in my stomach. “I-I don’t know. I suppose you’d have to ask John and Isaac.”

Layla nodded sagely. “Between us, I don’t think they’ve been getting on very well lately.”

I knew this, on some level. Isaac hasn’t been going to the gym with John like he used to. He hadn’t even brought John up in weeks.

“Oh?” I asked because with Layla, playing dumb usually meant getting the scoop.

“Yes, it’s quite sad really. Apparently John was worried about Isaac’s weight. Well, you know, he has gotten rather uh portly. I’m sure you’ve noticed that,” Layla said with a knowing smile. I shot a strained one back at her so she’d continue. “And I know John maybe went about it the wrong way, but he does have a point. It can’t be healthy, gaining so much weight so fast.”

My eyes burned.

“It’s not really John’s business.”

Layla seemed surprised by the surliness of my tone.

“Of course not.” Her tone was placating. I left the bathroom without a goodbye.

All throughout the rest of the work day, I tried putting Layla’s comments out of my mind. She was just saying that to justify John’s judgmental comments.

But there was probably some kind of truth to what she was saying. Isaac was gaining loads of weight in a short amount of time. It was over 100 lbs at this point in about a year. But Isaac was keeping his strength up with weights. He was building muscle too. He was a big guy to begin with, and his frame could carry the extra weight without issue.

I tried to think rationally about it, but my brain, as usual, wanted to sabotage these efforts.

Later, Isaac and I went back to my place. We picked up middle eastern food and I watched Isaac eat two entrees and an impressive amount of pita bread.

I tried not to let it bother me, but I guess it was showing on my face because Isaac asked, “What’s wrong?”

I pushed a piece of shish tawook around my plate.

“Uh, well. Layla said something to me earlier and it’s just… you know how I get,” I said with a self-deprecating smile.

Isaac frowned.

“What did she say? Exactly?” Isaac’s voice was hard. Not angry exactly, but close.

I shrugged a little. “Just, you know. That you’d gained a lot and that it couldn’t be, er healthy.” I glanced down at my lap where my hands were picking at my pants nervously.

“Catherine. Come ‘ere.”

I looked up and Isaac was pushing his seat back from the table and gesturing to his open lap. I couldn’t help but smile as I got up and let him pull me onto his lap.

“You know I’m healthy. I got a clean bill of health at my checkup.”

I nodded because I did know that. I just needed reminding.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

Isaac rubbed my back and I felt better almost immediately. I was like a cat; if I could purr, I probably would be right then.

“So it doesn't matter what Layla says. Because you know that I’m healthy. And we both like how I look now.”

I felt a wash of self-hatred at that moment. I was constantly needing Isaac’s reassurances. He was the one gaining weight. He was the one who’d have to deal with the judgment of others. Not me. And yet her I was, needy and sad after one comment. It was horribly pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” I said into his neck. Isaac sighed.

“Don’t apologize. I sort of like that you care so much about it,” Isaac said, a little lighter.

I smiled despite myself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You actually give a damn about my health. Some people would probably get off on me eating like a fatass and then run for the hills if I got a health scare. So, yes. I’m glad you’re like this.”

I felt myself grin and I swatted his arm lightly.

“Shut up.”

Isaac’s laugh made his belly shake a little against me and god it felt so nice.

Everything fell apart one weekend in July.

“Come on, it’ll still be here on Monday,” Isaac said from the chair beside me. Our office was empty but for us and the custodian.

“The report’s supposed to be in before 8:00 am on Monday,” I whined. I rubbed my eyes freely since I hadn’t even put on makeup. It was horrendous that I’d received the data sheets so late, but some of the higher ups were always putting off their work until the last minute. Meaning I usually ended up staying after hours to get things done. Vienna had offered to help, but since she had plans with her family this weekend, I waved her off. I was sort of regretting it now, though.

Isaac stood slowly. He’d gained another 15 pounds and it showed. His belly jiggled more, his face was rounder, and his arms were feeling flabbier than ever. He put his chunky hands on my shoulders and rubbed a little to ease their tenseness.

“How much more do you think? It’s almost 7.”

I glanced at the report, which was about 80% done, and back at the clock.

“Maybe another hour?” I said. “You don’t have to stay, obviously.”

Isaac smiled like what I’d said was funny. “Okay, how’s this? I’m going to run across the street to that Italian place we like. I’ll get a mountain of takeaway. And by the time I get back, if you’re done with the report, I’ll let you feed it to me.”

I felt my cheeks heat.

“You’re bribing me with feeding sessions now?”

Isaac laughed, a deep, unself-conscious sound. “No, I’m incentivizing you. Do we have a deal or what?”

I glanced at his belly, imagining how swollen it’d look after three huge entree portions.

“Deal.”

Once Isaac had kissed the top of my head and left, I got to work.

I took a deep breath and focused on my report. I tried not to rush myself, because that might cause me to make mistakes, and fixing mistakes would take longer than doing it correctly from the start.

I worked, hyper focused, more intently tuned in on my report than I had been able to be all day, for the next forty minutes.

The custodian told me he was leaving and then asked me to set the alarm on my way out, and then I was alone. I finished the document, attached it to an email and was cc-ing my boss when Isaac walked in. He was carrying three heaping bags full of steaming-hot food, which he put down on a nearby desk with a heavy thunk.

“Done?” he asked with an excited eyebrow raise. I finished typing out the address, looked over the email one last time, and hit send.

Yep!” I leaned back in the office chair, pushing away from my desk and getting enough momentum to send my chain spinning in a lazy circle. I smiled at the ceiling in relief. My body felt boneless, as if the stress was the only thing that had been keeping me together all day.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Isaac said suggestively. I caught myself with a hand on my desk to keep my chair in place so I could meet Isaac’s eyes.

“What’d you get?”

Isaac tore the first bag open and started pulling out styrofoam containers.

“Cheese ravioli for Catherine,” he said with a wink. “Mushroom risotto, piselli e guanciale,” Isaac said, absolutely butchering the pronunciation. I laughed at him but he ignored me. “Aaaaaand, veal parmesan.”

I glanced at the last bag, which was unopened. “What’s that?”

“Garlic bread and antipasto salad,” Isaac said. “Where should we start?”

I squirmed in my seat. I was actually quite hungry, since it was 8 p.m. and I hadn’t eaten since lunch. I figured I should eat my food before I got carried away with feeding Isaac. And salad was a bit hard to feed another person. I didn’t want to get lettuce and cheese and salami all over the place.

“Eat the antipasto first while I eat my ravioli,” I said.

Isaac smirked. “Aye aye, captain.”

It was a little weird to be sitting in an empty office building on a Friday night. It was one of those places where nothing seemed real. Most of the lights were off, just the blue glow of the computer homescreens and the security lights near the door gave the room an odd aura of timelessness.

While we got started on eating, it was quiet to the point of awkwardness with TV playing in the background like we’d normally have on at one of our apartments, and so I put some music on my phone for some ambience. I inhaled my ravioli with single-minded focus, and ate a piece of garlic bread to sop up the sauce leftover. Isaac seemed as hungry as me, as he’d nearly finished his entire salad by the time I ate my food.

“What do you want next?” I asked, standing up and stretching a bit. My back was sore from hunching over in my desk chair all day.

“Hmm,” Isaac considered, glancing at the spread of containers littered all over the available desk space in my cubicle. “Risotto. It won’t be good if it gets cold.”

I nodded and got it opened. Isaac was scooping the last of the antipasto into his mouth and I waited until he’d finished before taking the empty container and tossing it in the trash.

Then I started to climb into Isaac’s lap. It was a tight fit, since his love handles were brushing the armrests of the chair, but I shoved my knees in and settled myself over him.

“This feels scandalous,” Isaac said with a playful smile. I shrugged. Our office security cameras were only faced towards the doors, and rarely did they even get checked.

“It’s sorta hot though, right? Me feeding you at work?”

Isaac nodded and opened his mouth when I held up a forkful of risotto. His hands were on my hips, not doing anything suggestive, just resting there, but for some reason the feeling of being caged in by his hands had me blushing.

He ate the risotto quickly, and I patted his tummy, which was getting a bit bloated, as he finished off the last of it.

“How old is this shirt?” I asked, teasing at the buttons which looked a bit strained. Not indecent, but they were pulled tight enough across his gut that the fabric between was puckered.

“Uh, about two months?”

Isaac was blushing now.

“I like it,” I said. “Veal next?”

Isaac nodded and so I stood to grab the next container. Thankfully the meat was cut. It would have been hard to slice with plastic cutlery.

“Getting full?” I asked when this entree was about halfway done.

Isaac hummed, chewed, and swallowed. “Yeah. I still have room though, don’t worry.”

He did have room. He ate the rest of the veal and then had a break where he ate some bread and drank water. Then he decided he was ready for the pasta.

The peas and the pancetta in the piselli e guanciale were a little cold, but Isaac didn’t seem to mind. I forked up heaping mouthfuls and Isaac ate them dutifully.

He was really getting stuffed by the end, but he still had a solid �� of the meal left. He was making those adorable little grunts and moans that indicated his stuffed state. I put the container down to rub his sore belly.

“That feels amazing, Catherine,” Isaac murmured. I kissed the top shelf of his belly over his shirt. It was bloated and thick-looking. He’d indulged a lot in the last hour.

“More?”

Isaac took a deep breath and nodded.

I fed him a little more, but then he begged for a break.

“Fuck, I’m… shit I’m so full,” Isaac grunted. His belly was looking huge, and god I loved it.

“Just a little more. Come on, you can do it,” I said. Isaac opened his mouth. “That’s it, eat a little more. You know you want it,” I teased, knowing Isaac did want it. He loved to push past his limits. I was getting turned on, which was loosening my tongue a bit. “Yeah, eat more. I know you can. I know you want it. Just two more bites.”

“So full,” Isaac moaned.

I pushed another forkful into his mouth.

“Good, you’re doing so good. One more and then you’ll be done.”

Isaac opened his mouth again for me, and as I was putting the fork past his lips, I heard a smacking sound that nearly had me falling off of his lap in surprise.

Standing in the doorway was Layla.

I had no idea how long she’d been standing there. My music was still playing, and I’d been so focused on feeding Isaac and talking him through his fullness that I hadn’t heard her come in.

I was mortified.

It was so obvious what we’d been doing. I was sitting in Isaac’s lap, where he looked absolutely stuffed. We were surrounded by empty food containers. If she’d heard what I’d just been saying….

“Oh my god,” I mumbled. I wanted to sink through the floor.

“Layla, wha-what are you doing here?” Isaac asked. His chubby cheeks were bright red, and he was still out of breath from fullness. Belatedly I realized I should be getting up off his lap. This was unprofessional enough as it was.

“I left my planner here earlier, I just stopped by to grab it,” I saw the planner at her feet which she must have dropped, which explained the smack sound I’d heard, “but Cath, what the–what were you… I thought he was on a diet.” Layla said, her nasally voice accusatory. I felt sick just hearing her tone. “Isaac, you’re letting her do—-whatever this is—to you?”

Isaac took my hand in his. “I wanted her to.” His voice left little room for disagreement.

Layla sputtered. “Catherine, you are enabling his binge eating disorder! Don’t you realize that! I thought you of all people would care about his health.”

I instantly felt nauseous as her words took root.

This was what normal people thought of what we’d been doing. I’d let Isaac lull me into thinking this was normal when it clearly wasn’t. It wasn’t just strange, it was disordered. Layla had just said it was. And how hadn’t I seen it sooner? Isaac wanted to eat as much as he could in one sitting because it scratched some type of itch inside of him? Because he felt compelled to binge?

And I had been enabling it.

“Catherine, don’t listen to her,” Isaac was saying, but blood was rushing in my ears. I was going to throw up. This was all of my worst fears. Being caught, being outed as a freak, putting someone I loved in danger because of my weird fetish. I wasn’t putting his health first like I’d been trying to do. I was getting off on his messed up eating habits.

I pushed off of Isaac’s lap. He tried to hold onto me, but I didn’t let him. He was too full to get up after me anyway, and that made me feel even more sick.

I grabbed my purse and booked it past Layla, who was talking to me, but I tuned her out. I got on the elevator, shaking and numb all over.

I made it to my apartment like a zombie, and I collapsed on my bed in my clothes. Only then did I let myself cry.

CHRIS: have u talked to isaac yet??

I glanced at my phone from my spot on my bed, burrowed into the blankets like a burrito, before locking my phone and putting my comforter over my head like a dramatic 12 year old.

I had called Christ last night after I’d cried out my embarrassment, my panic. And it’d been, well… an awkward conversation to say the least.

Chris had been worried (obviously) as I’d called him crying, so I started trying and failing to explain what Layla had interrupted without mentioning the feeding situation.

But well. It made no sense. We weren’t having sex in the office, or anything like that. Really, there was no reason for it to have been a big deal. So what I got caught sitting on my boyfriend’s lap? It was awkward, sure, but there was no reason for my reaction if I didn’t explain the–the food stuff. The health stuff. My anxiety stuff.

And so with my censoring, Chris was totally lost.

But this was, well, Chris. My best friend, the most accepting non-judgmental person I knew. If I couldn’t tell Chris about my preferences, I couldn’t tell anyone.

So after a few minutes of his voice in my ear calming me down, I had to bite the bullet and explain, yeah so remember how I never used to like anyone? It’s because I only like fat people. Fat guys, actually. Which Isaac is one. In case you hadn’t realized. Um. Oh and that awkward encounter Layla walked in on? I was actually just sitting on his lap feeding him Italian food. Because I’m a freak. And my insane brain was already on the cusp of breaking down at any given moment over the fact that Isaac could possibly be sick, or hurt, or… or something. And so when Layla insinuated that I was enabling an eating disorder I.. well. I believed her.

Chris had been quiet while brokenly explained that Isaac liked eating and getting fatter and I liked watching it happen.

Chris was silent for a moment but he accepted the information without any fuss, which I appreciated.

That was last night. His reassurances no longer had much effect.

And so now, those dark thoughts had time to grow and festered over the course of a day.

I was even more reluctant to reach out to Isaac today seeing as he hadn’t even attempted to call me. Obviously it wasn’t his responsibility. I was the one who’d ran off and left him there. And the guilt was eating at me a bit, to be honest. But still. I was used to Isaac constantly wanting to comfort me. Coddle me. And now that he… wasn’t, I found myself unable to cope.

So I continued to ignore Chris’ message and wallowed in self-pity some more until I heard a knock on my apartment door in the early evening.

I had migrated to the couch with a cup of tea by then, but I still looked like a mess. My face was blotchy from crying, and I hadn’t showered. My pajamas were oversized and worn in. Surely my hair was a mess as well, but.

I stood up and looked out my peephole anyway. Part of me had expected Chris to come do a wellness check before he left for the club that night, but a secret, smaller part thought maybe Isaac would be there.

But when I looked out into the hallway, it was neither of them.

John stood outside my door, awkwardly shifting his weight and fiddling with his wrist watch.

I yanked the door open.

“John?”

John looked startled.

“Catherine. Hi, um, I was hoping I could speak with you,” John said. I kept my body in front of my partially-open door.

I frowned. “Why?” I asked.

John scratched the back of his neck.

“Look, I… I talked to Isaac. And Layla, and I just. I know this situation is fucked and I know you might not be wanting company right now but,” John left the sentence unfinished, but turned a more pleading expression at me.

I swallowed heavily. John fidgeted under my stare for a moment.

“Um. Okay, come in,” I said, sliding out of the way so he could come inside. Luckily my neat-freak tendencies had kept my apartment from looking too rough. Aside from the pile of blankets on the couch, my place looked the same as it normally would.

I was the only thing that looked like a mess.

I sat down in my blanket nest and John took a seat in the chair.

“So.” I kicked my leg absent-mindedly. “Why are you…?”

“Here?” John guessed. I guested in confirmation, only feeling a little rude to be asking. He took a deep breath. “Catherine, I came here because I needed to say, well. I know we went on a date. And you weren’t into it.” His smile was self-deprecating. I started to protest but he didn’t let me. Which was fine, it’s fine. But surely I ignored some red flags when Layla asked me out directly after setting me up with you, her supposed friend. I mean, at the time I didn’t know she was like…” John searched for a word. “Like that.”

I nodded because I did know that Layla was in fact ‘like that’.

“And when Isaac asked me how I would feel if he started pursuing you, I was honestly skeptical. I thought.. I thought you’d go out with him once and never again. Like you had with me.” John smiled wistfully. “But when you kept seeing each other, I was happy for him. Truly.”

I felt myself blushing for some reason.

“Are you and Layla, um, broken up?” I asked tentatively.

John nodded, scratched at his thighs nervously. “I broke it off with her after I spoke with Isaac, but it. It was a long time coming,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said dumbly.

“But, Catherine, I’m not here to talk about my breakup. I,” he scrubbed his face with one hand. “I wanted to talk to you because I think you need to hear this from someone who isn’t Isaac.”

His words made my eyes snap to his. He was stiff, serious, but clearly sincere.

John took a breath. “Isaac told me a while ago that he wanted to, erm, to gain weight,” John said.

I instantly regretted having this conversation. My stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“And I didn’t understand. Still don’t really. But it doesn’t matter. Because it’s his life, it’s his choice how he wants to live it. And that misunderstanding, my lack of acceptance, put a wedge between us. I hardly saw Issac this past year. And you’ve got to know, Catherine. I love Isaac. He’s one of my closest friends. To not have him in my life was. It was awful,” John said. “And so when Isaac called me last night, I.” John paused. I found myself staring at my hands in my lap. His voice was raw, and I felt distinctly uncomfortable. But I continued listening. “He called me and told me what happened. And then I heard the same story from Layla. And you want to know something, Catherine?”

I reluctantly met his gaze.

“Isaac told me that he’d screwed things up with you. Because he wanted to protect you from getting hurt. And he thought he’d failed at that. He was beating himself up about it.” John scoffed. “Isaac is one of a kind, isn’t he? You want to know what he didn’t tell me, but Layla did?”

I didn’t really, but I figured John wouldn’t have come all the way to my apartment for no reason, so I nodded anyway.

“She said that after you left, Isaac kept eating, shoving all the remaining food in his mouth like it was some act of defiance,” John said. He smiled fondly. “Isaac wanted her to know that it wasn’t you forcing him to do anything. Because you weren’t. You might already know that, but in case you need reminding, Isaac wanted to get fat with or without you. And I honestly don’t understand it. But it makes him happy, so,” John shrugged. “Isaac thinks he f**ked this up between you two, but Catherine… It’s no one’s fault. Maybe Layla’s for opening her big mouth but.”

I swallowed heavily.

“Thank you for, for saying all that,” I said.

John nodded. It was odd, how one conversation, one honest conversation with John, could make me understand why he and Isaac were friends. John was considered, reserved, but ultimately he cared about things. Cared enough to come all the way to my place just to make sure I wasn’t going to spiral so hard that I’d hurt Isaac forreal.

That was a good friend.

Isaac opened the door slowly. His t-shirt was ill-fitting, clinging to his tubby belly in a way that made me want to reach out and feel that supple flesh between my fingers. His brown curls were a mess, like he’d been running his hands through them, or maybe he’d just recently lost a pillow fight.

His eyes widened when he saw me standing in the hallway.

“Catherine?” he mumbled, surprised.

“Hi. Can I come in?” I asked. After John had left I showered and put on some real clothes, still comfortable ones, but an outfit that was suitable for outdoor wear.

Isaac stepped aside so I could walk in. His apartment was a mess, but I wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t as neat as me anyway.

We stood there in the foyer staring at each other for a few seconds. Isaac bit his lip, so I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry. For running away,” I said.

Isaac frowned. “No, no it’s, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Isaac said. I smiled but shook my head slowly.

“It is. I’ve realized just how much you’ve done to-to help me. With my issues. You’re, god, you’re freakishly accommodating,” I said, smiling humorlessly. “It’s like, you’re perfect. For me, at least.”

Isaac’s eyes were very wide.

“Do you know why I don’t like when people touch me?” I asked.

Isaac shook his head.

“I avoid being touched because I’m scared of being a real person. I’m always so scared that if someone touches me with-with any kind of tenderness, then I’ll simply fall apart. I-I spend so much time trying to hold myself together that I always knew that if I ever let anyone in, that I would crumble. I’m not, I’m not good at this, Isaac. I’m,” I put the heel of my hands into my eyes. “I’m terrible at being in a relationship because I never let myself be vulnerable with anyone before. Not my family, not my friends, not. Not anyone. Until you.”

I pulled my hands away to glance up at Isaac. He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before.

“Catherine, can I…?” Isaac’s hands were hovering, like they wanted to pull me in for a hug, but he waited until I nodded before he did.

Being hugged by him was. It was.

I felt so safe.

“You’re not bad at being in a relationship,” Isaac mumbled into my hair. “Whoever told you that is stupid. You’re, god, you’re everything to me,” Isaac said.

I felt my eyes welling up with tears.

“I think I should go to therapy,” I whispered. It was a thought that I’d avoided for years. I was scared of anyone ever getting close enough to know me. I didn’t like thinking about myself, my childhood. I actively pretended that I was normal, that I was fine when I clearly was not.

“Whatever you want,” Isaac said.

Epilogue: Three months later

“Mom, you’ll see me for Thanksgiving….Yes, I’m bringing Isaac….I know….I love you too…. Oka, bye.”

I hung up and sighed.

“How’re things back home?” Isaac asked from the kitchen. He was making a bowl of cereal even though he’d had lunch only an hour ago. His appetite was impressive, and as of yesterday, he was tipping the scales at 356 lbs.

“Fine. My family is just. They’re a little too excited to meet you,” I said exasperatedly.

“Well I’m excited to meet them too. Especially the famous mee-maw,” Isaac teased. I rolled my eyes.

Isaac and I were planning to move in together after Isaac’s lease ended, but he practically lived here already.

I watched Isaac devour his cereal and pour himself a second bowl.

“You’re gonna spoil dinner,” I complained, knowing that it was not possible. We were going to a new restaurant tonight with John and his new girlfriend Grace. Isaac was bound to be ravenous by then even if he ate the whole box.

A few months ago I might’ve worried about the amount of sugar Isaac was eating, but after starting therapy and being prescribed antidepressants, my cycle of worrying was less intense. That’s not to say that it didn’t happen. But well. It was more manageable. It helped that Isaac was willing to get checkups frequently, and he’d resumed going to the gym to keep up his health while he gained.

I stared at Isaac as he ate. He really was so handsome. With those shiny brown curls, those dimples when he smiled, his chubby cheeks and double chin…

“See something you like?” Isaac asked when he noticed my staring.

“Maybe,” I said with a grin.

The end

#weight gain story #weight gain fiction #bhm fiction #male wight gain story #bhm/ffa story #chubby kink #belly kink #my writing #naivemlnd #maybe it's you #feedism story

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fattyl0ve · 2 months ago

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“Ripe”

By FattyL0ve

Every morning, like clockwork, a cake appeared on his doorstep. It started small, a simple slice of chocolate cake wrapped neatly in foil. At first, he thought it was a prank or maybe a mistake from a neighbor, but after the third morning, Yoni gave in to curiosity and tasted it. It was the most delicious cake he had ever eaten—rich, moist, and perfectly sweet.

The cakes kept coming. Soon, it wasn't just a slice but an entire cake—red velvet, cheesecake, triple-layered chocolate fudge. They grew larger and more elaborate with every passing day. Yoni, unable to resist the temptation, indulged daily. His clothes began to feel tight, and he noticed his reflection in the mirror changing. His face softened, his belly rounded, and the scale confirmed what his body already knew. In just a few weeks, he had gained 200 pounds.

Despite the dramatic change in his appearance, the cakes kept arriving, and Yoni, unable to stop himself, kept eating them. He was both alarmed and intrigued by the steady stream of desserts and wondered who could be behind it. Yet, no note or clue ever came with the cakes.

One evening, after polishing off a towering strawberry shortcake, Yoni heard a soft knock on the door. It was unusual—no one ever knocked. His heart pounded as he opened the door.

Standing there was a woman, tall and graceful, with jet-black hair that fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She wore a deep green dress that shimmered in the twilight. Her eyes, dark and knowing, fixed on him with a quiet intensity.

“I see you’ve enjoyed my cakes,” she said with a smile.

Yoni was taken aback, unsure how to respond. “You... you’ve been leaving them? Why?”

She stepped closer, her gaze traveling over his larger frame. “I’ve been watching you for some time. You were always so... lean, almost invisible. I wanted to see you grow, to take up space, to become more... substantial.” Her voice was smooth, hypnotic. “And you have.”

Yoni felt a shiver run down his spine. “Why would you want that?”

She smiled again, though this time there was something predatory in her expression. “I have a fondness for men who indulge. For men who are willing to surrender themselves to the pleasures of food, to gluttony. It makes them... ripe.”

“Ripe for what?” Yoni asked, his throat dry.

The woman’s smile widened. “For me.”

Before he could say another word, she reached out and touched his arm. A warmth spread from her fingers, seeping into his skin, making him feel drowsy, heavy, and completely powerless. As the world around him began to fade, Yoni realized that her cakes had never been a gift—they had been a trap. And now, he was exactly what she wanted.

Her voice, soft and lilting, was the last thing he heard before darkness took him. “Welcome to your new life, Yoni. You belong to me now.”

⬇️“Madame Bigger” by Thefatside on DeviantArt⬇️

#feedee belly #bhm weight gain #feedee piggy #gaining weight on purpose #gaining fat #male feedism #stuffed feedee #fat bhm #bhm wg #weightgain #weight gain story #wg story #feedee story #feeder story #feederism story #morbid feedism #feedism story #ffa/bhm #ffa ssbhm

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growmydarling · 1 year ago

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i want your fat, gorgeous ass eating so noisily and sloppily that everyone can't help but stare at her porcine scene from the corner of the restaurant. you're making such an exhibition of yourself. moaning, pulling at your too-tight shirt as it squeezes against the plump layer of fat encompassing your midsection. people are gasping at the way you seem to thoroughly enjoy the juice running off your chin(s) and the way you breathe heavily, almost *snorting*, as you gaze lovingly at the table filled to every edge with food for no one but yourself. Greedy.

#female feeder #wg kink #feedee perspective #ffa #belly kink #getting fatter #feeder kink #bhm #wg stories #humiliation kink

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kallietell · 16 days ago

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I Made You Too Fat

*Gender neutral weight gain POV*

Hey babe, I've got to talk to you about something. And please don't say anything, I know you're gonna try and comfort me and make me feel better and stuff, but just let me get through this.

You know how much I love your body. I never thought I would meet someone who would let me do this to them, who would let me put all this weight on them, but you’re getting bigger than I ever thought you would. I mean I love it, I literally can’t look at you without wanting to tear your clothes off, but when you first agreed to gain weight for me you only had a little potbelly. You still ate normal-sized meals, you wore a medium. Then you saw what your overeating did to me and it was like flipping a switch. You started to get so fat so fast you could barely keep up. You started eating whatever I brought you and asking for more, started lounging around the apartment in all of your old skin-tight clothes because you knew it drove me crazy.

Your delivery orders kept getting bigger and bigger until even I couldn't believe it. Remember when you ordered so much pizza that the Doordash driver asked if we were having a party? But it was all for you. And you're so constantly stuffed and bloated with all the greasy fast food I buy you that it's hard to even tell how fat you're actually getting. Your belly is never empty, so I never know if all of this is you or if your tubby gut is just distended from the family-sized meals you let me force down your throat.

You know how much I want you bigger and fatter, you know how much watching you pile on mounds of blubber turns me on, but at this point, I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. I feel like I'm taking this too far just for my own sick pleasure. I’m porking you up like a prize-winning pig and you’re just letting me, you keep opening your mouth for more like you're completely under my control. Even when you're so full you're panting and gasping because your stomach is too tight and swollen, even when you think you can't force down another bite, you still open up for me and let me feed you till I'm satisfied. It's so hot while I'm doing it, but I always have this tiny little glimmer of guilt because I know you like it too much to make me stop.

Watching you waddle around with your belly hang wobbling out of the bottom of your shirt and your chunky thighs packed in those tight workout shorts that are ripping at the seams makes me lose it, but also makes me think of when your clothes actually used to fit you. I mean, babe you actually used to workout in those shorts, and now if you bend over too far you can hear the seams pop.

You've just gotten so lazy and so greedy and it's all my fault. You can't even get on top anymore cause all your jiggling blubber has made you too massive for that much of a workout. I wasn't sure how to bring this up to you, I don't even want to bring this up to you, but after what happened yesterday, I just had to start this conversation. I can't believe you actually got big enough to get stuck in the living room chair. That chair could fit two of me, but you gorged yourself so full that your rounded hips were completely wedged between the arms…

*I hope you enjoyed this preview of my weight gain POV! You can find the full story on my Patreon. I love writing stories were I can directly tease and praise the reader, and I have a growing library of POV work available (I write at least one new POV story per week, sign up for the Avid Readers+ tier for immediate early access). This story is not EA and is currently posted for all tiers except Basic. Other than that, I have tons of wg fiction available including my most popular continuing series. Thanks so much for reading!*

patreon.com/KallieTell

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feederfemale · 8 months ago

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After the wedding, we decided to have a honeymoon.

We agreed to go abroad. We said goodbye to the family and went to the apartment for the last night.

You woke up in the night, you tried to move your arms but realized they were attached to the bed. Suddenly you realized what was happening between your thighs...

I said to you - hey, something happened? I looked at you with big eyes.

- Piggy, I forgot to tell you that I postponed our flight to next week... I wanted to spend a few more days, you know... celebrate alone...

Faster than you responded, I inserted the soft tube into your mouth.

- I want you to look good on our honeymoon... and I already told you that it's a shame to be seen in public after marrying a guy under 160 kilograms...

suddenly there was a sound of a switch and you realized that the pipe was connected to the tank . I looked at you again with big, loving eyes. you drank, you drank… your stomach filled in the blink of an eye and you felt it stretching.

You knew it wasn't just gainer, usually after a dose like that you begged me to stop, but this time you just fell asleep instead... the last thing you saw was my lips kissing your forehead. You woke up in the morning and couldn't believe what had happened, you realized that you had to be connected to a fat gain machine all night long. Somehow you didn't feel lethargic, but your body told you otherwise. 20 kilos in one night? Impossible and yet.

Snap snap.... - oh ! you look beautiful... -

I said and put the Polaroid aside

- hey, honey, you look beautiful today, as I can see marriage must be having a good effect on you, right? ❤️ Are you ready for breakfast? I have already ordered….

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ffapenny · 7 months ago

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„the smaller one for the smaller one – or both for the bigger one?!“

#malefeedee #fat gut #bhm #male feedism #growing gut #stuffing #weight gain story #femalefeeder #full belly #ffa

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mortiskiller · 1 year ago

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Ruin The Pig

Content warning: This story contains extreme fat shaming, non-consensual weight gain, health play, and death feedism.

I am going to ruin you pig. I told you that when we first met up after you spent weeks begging me to feed you and use you.

You were lying in the hotel bed naked after I stuffed and pumped you full of 10K calories in a few hours, you were so small then, barely 300 pounds. It was cute that you pretended to be immobile while I fed you. Listening as you played the panic up and begged “fuck fuck fuck we have to slow down! I’m getting too big I don’t want to be trapped in bed!” I would silence you by shoving a messy burger into my face a shush you, "Shut your dumb fucking mouth and eat." I said forcefully but calmly, I saw the acceptance and submission wash over you as the realization that no choice is being offered but to eat and like a passive cow as you let out oinks and weakly pawed at my crotch.

I remember that fat ball gut you had, so small compared to now. That was pure surface-level fat, pushing your organs down, putting pressure on your GI tract, and making it harder for your body to pump blood. You are at a point where every new pound of fat is a step toward utter and complete obesity.

We would meet up every few weeks and you would pretend your arteries were clogging already from an absolute binge of cheese and grease, that you I loved only wanting the cheapest unhealthy slop. Preferring a ketchup-slathered triple cheeseburger and a pile of chocolates to some fancy steak and a nice cake.

I remember the first time you panicked and begged for me to slow down, right after you hit 690 pounds. I had woken you up for your 2 a.m. funnel session, I never let you sleep for more than 4 hours without eating till you passed out, I say, "Get up and walk to the scale.", pointing to a large black metal livestock scale in the middle of the room. Your mind was weak from being fed nothing but junk, weed, alcohol, and the hormones mixed into your slop. You throw your heavy flabby arms up to gather enough momentum to heave your billowing body up. I watched as nothing happened, you tried again. Again your body moved not an inch off the bed, all you accomplished was shaking the sea of lard that was your body.

Your face flushed with sweat and burned red as you strained your body, but you were stuck. Attempt after attempt, after an attempt to lift yourself, grunts and wheezing fill the basement.

A minute later your eyes went wild, and my hand on your chest felt a heart racing faster and faster.

I see that panic, it makes me hard. You are locked in now. A complete loss of agency and now you are nothing. I own your life. Any money, anything you own is gone. All you have is my pity.

Pity that feeds you.

Food and nothing else.

I told you my plans now that you were a helpless fucking lard-ass NEET in my home.

1. Hormones to make you the perfect pile of shame. Bury your dick in fat, widen your hips and tits, make a perfect pussy for Daddy to fuck.

2. We are starting an Only Fans! You get to be my immobile plaything that I take every sadistic desire out on, and I get all the money.

3. Some more feeders are going to stop by and have their way with you. You are my toy to loan out to other feeders and chasers.

I lean into your sweating, beat red face, and put a hand around your neck roll. "You are just a waddling weak whore doing what I say till your bloated wrecked corpse is left in a hotel room covered in cum and food, got it?"

As you opened your mouth to answer, I shoved the funnel in. You asked for this pig.

#feedist fiction #wg fiction #wg story #male feedee #bhm #ssbhm #ussbhm #weight gain #fa #ffa

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naivemlnd · 11 months ago

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Always in Your Shadow Part 2

Read part 1 here!

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

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

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

Yep, that was solid logic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I was. I was worrying.

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

“What the,” I said, startled.

Yuki hushed me.

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

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

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

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

I nodded sadly.

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

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

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

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

I was staring at a beautiful human woman.

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

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

I laughed into her fluffy black hair.

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

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

“Thank you,” she whispered back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to meet her!” my mom said.

“The more the merrier,” my dad agreed.

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

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

My parents both had matching sympathetic looks on their faces.

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

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

Well, they bought it. So far so good.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh how wonderful!” my mom murmured.

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

She looked incredibly nervous.

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

My chest fluttered. She was just so…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready to head out?” my dad asked.

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

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

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

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

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

Yuki on the other hand was absolutely thriving out here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yes?” Yuki replied shyly.

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

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

My dad hummed. “You liking it here?”

Yuki nodded, an easy smile lighting up her face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

My dad raised an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

Crisis adverted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m good with that,” I said.

We piled into the car.

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

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

Yuki nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

Yuki said none of those things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

My dad nodded along.

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

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

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

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

My mom threw me a knowing look that I ignored.

Luckily the waitress saved me by bringing our food out.

“That was fast!” my dad said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, ugh.

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

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

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

“Oh sweetie, please call me Wendy!”

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

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

I really needed to quit this habit of overeating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” I asked tiredly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuki chirped. “Did I do good today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bedtime?” Yuki whispered tiredly.

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

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

“Goodnight, Yuki.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Humans are a bit rotten, aren’t we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I reintroduced myself to the dark web.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop, I mentally slapped myself.

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

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

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

Think positively, I admonished myself.

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

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

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

It turned green.

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

“See, it’s fine,” I told Yuki.

Yuki purred quietly.

“Peter’s amazing,” she said softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, was this your first time flying?”

Yuki nodded into my mom’s shoulder.

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

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

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

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

When we arrived, Yuki leaned very close to me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuki groaned lightly which I took as an affirmative.

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

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

Oh no.

Yuki’s words hit like bullets to the chest.

Peter always takes such good care of me.

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

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

It didn’t mean she… wanted me.

I went downstairs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was comforting in a way.

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

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

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

“Yuki,” I scolded.

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

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

Danger. Stop. This train of thought is prohibited.

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

We took seats at the kitchen barstools.

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

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

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

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

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

“More please!” Yuki said innocently.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

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

Yuki giggled. “I can sense it.”

I frowned at her. “Sense what?”

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

Impure thoughts. About being a what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Amen!”

Yuki melted back into her seat.

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

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

Green bean casserole and cranberry sauce? Not so great.

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

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

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

I couldn’t help but moan around it.

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

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

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

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

“You could say that,” I wheezed.

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

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

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

I wished I didn’t find it incredibly attractive.

I did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was falling in love with my demon.

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

“Let’s make snow angels,” I said.

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

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

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

“Oh my!”

Yuki giggled happily as we made snow angels.

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

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

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

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

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

Yuki did much better. Hers was pristine.

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

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

They were turning a bit blue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter! Dinner!” Yuki called.

I sighed and patted my stomach.

“Be right there!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Assuming Yuki returned my feelings, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always good,” she mumbled.

“I know you are.”

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

“Hey Yuki,” I said.

“Mmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure do,” I said.

“EEEE!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only Yuki really felt that way about me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my, you’re such a sweetie!”

I was inclined to agree.

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

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

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

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

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

Her hands rubbed my swollen sides.

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

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

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

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

Flash.

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter, leaving so soon?”

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

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

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

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

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

“A d-demon?” I echoed dumbly.

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

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

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

Wait, had he said another one of us?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

Yuki pursed her lips like she didn’t agree.

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

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

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

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

“He’s… possessed?”

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

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

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

That wasn’t terrifying or anything.

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

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

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

When Yuki changed the subject, I was grateful.

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

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

Yuki whined in confirmation.

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

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

“Of course I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I loved her so much it ached.

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

So I leaned down.

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

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

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

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

“Peter Peter Peter Peter…”

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

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

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

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

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

I felt like I was on cloud nine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I blushed, flustered at Yuki’s flirty tone.

Before I could reply, my stomach growled audibly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The timing of this new relationship development was… unfortunate.

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

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

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

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

Yuki giggled and put her arms around me.

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

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

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

Everyone laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I loved her so much, it was ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

She handed it to Yuki.

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

I hoped she liked it.

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

“Do you like it?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ahem. Anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuki looked at me with puppy eyes.

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

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

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

“Mhm!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still nothing.

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

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

She looked perfect.

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

Yuki’s purple eyes lit up.

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

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

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

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

I sighed and petted her head a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I really was one lucky bastard.

I gained 10 pounds on the cruise.

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

But it wasn’t until September that I actually hit 400. It was a small accumulation of events, eating breakfast at home followed by ‘mid-morning snacks’ at the office, huge spreads of takeout for lunch, quick dinner before I went home for the day, followed by what I was now referring to as ‘big dinner’ when I got home, followed by Yuki’s baked goods and ice cream for dessert. I was eating like a fiend.

And I really enjoyed it.

Being so hugely fat was kind of hot, if I was honest. I liked feeling so big, always having a big ol’ gut in my lap, always feeling comforted by all the weight. And Yuki clearly enjoyed it. She was constantly pushing me to eat even more, and always gave my body such loving attention and affection.

There were downsides as well. It was getting really hard to fit into my office chair at work. My sides sort of swallowed up the arms of the chair, and my stomach pushed into the desk, which wasn’t really very comfortable. I knew other people in the office were close to my size, but these days, I was one of the biggest, if not the biggest. It felt embarrassing to ask my secretary to put in an order for a new chair, but I figured this one might actually break under my weight one of these days, which would be infinitely more embarrassing. Plus, it was really hard to un-stick myself from the chair after a long day’s work.

I was putting off mentioning it, hoping magically that the chair would expand or something. The CEO, Seth, was always a bit of a portly man himself, so I didn’t feel overly ashamed when he suggested we all get newer chairs after one awkward incident when he’d stopped by my office and it had taken me several seconds of vigorous wiggling and shimmying to stand up from the stupid chair. And I was out of breath from all that moving, too.

Seth phrased the newer chairs as being ‘decorative, a new modern design to fit the culture of the office’, but when I saw the design (retractable armrests and extra-wide seats) I knew I was probably the cause for the change.

But boy did I love how the new chair didn’t groan when I sat, that I could push the armrests out of the way so my love handles could spread out in peace, and that my butt wasn’t squished so much. It didn’t change the fact that my gut pushed up against my desk when I typed at my computer but maybe I’d had my expectations too high on that front.

Yuki and I flew to Wisconsin again for Thanksgiving with my folks, and I realized with dismay that the seats on the plane were becoming a tight fit as well… I’d had to ask for a seatbelt extender. Luckily the flight attendant had been very nice about the whole thing, so I wasn’t too embarrassed. I wondered if I’d have to buy two tickets next year. Right as I thought that, Yuki started smiling and nuzzling up at my fat neck.

I knew she couldn’t actually read my mind, but at times like these, I wondered if her ability to feel my ‘desires’ almost worked just as good.

My parents didn’t bring up my weight anymore, though I was sure they noticed it. Maybe because I was with Yuki they stopped caring about how fat I was getting. I’d already found a nice girl and settled down, so who cared if I was obese, right? As long as I was happy.

And I was. Obese, that is.

Yeah, sometimes it sucked getting out of breath just walking to and from the bathroom. And going up and down the stairs at home was getting to be a pain, but I only did that twice a day. But it was worth it to be able to eat as much as I wanted. To be able to live with no abandon, without restriction.

While Yuki and I were in my hometown for the holiday, I decided to meet up with some of my old high school friends at a local bar. Yuki was a little nervous, but she perked up once the waitress dropped off the food menu.

Honestly, I was probably more nervous than her. My friends hadn’t seen me since I’d been around 150 pounds slimmer.

“Oh my god, is that you Pete?”

I lifted my head to see my old buddy Taylor absolutely gaping at me. I scooted my chair back and then hefted myself up to give him a hug. Taylor hugged me back, pressing his flat stomach against my beach ball sized one.

“Yeah, I know I’ve put on a few,” I said, blushing a little.

Taylor scoffed. “A few?”

“Ahem.” That would be Yuki, who had gotten up and was standing beside me.

Taylor glanced at her and then back at me.

“Taylor, this is my girlfriend, Yuki.”

Yuki pushed herself into my side and I wrapped my big arm over her shoulders. She put one hand on my gut, almost daring Taylor to say something about it.

“Ah, oh. Hello. Nice to meet you,” Taylor muttered.

I relished in his surprise. I almost wanted to say See? Fat guys deserve love too. And from beautiful women, no less. But seeing as Taylor just went through a nasty divorce, that might be in poor taste.

It wasn’t long before our other friend Allen showed up. The three of us caught up on current events in our lives, while Yuki kept ordering appetizers. Boneless wings, onion rings, jalapeño poppers…

Yuki and I ate most of them, which is to say, I ate most of them.

“I’m glad you’re doing so well in Colorado, man,” Allen said as I licked buffalo sauce off my fingers.

“Yeah, we were sad that you were moving, but I’m happy it all worked out for you,” Taylor added, sparing Yuki a lingering glance.

“Me too,” I said. “How’s it going with your partner, Allen?” I asked.

“Oh, he’s terrible,” Allen said with a conspiring smile. “Never marry your yoga instructor!”

After a while, I had to go to the bathroom, so I excused myself, leaving Yuki at the table with Taylor and Allen.

Bar bathrooms were never the cleanest, but I did my business as quickly as I could and then started to wash my hands. I looked up as someone entered the bathroom behind me. I could see them in the mirror. A person I hadn’t seen in at least 12 years.

Mike.

He locked eyes with my reflection but didn’t seem to recognize me at all. He walked passed the sinks like I was a stranger.

I looked at myself in the dirty mirror. Sure I had a big double chin, and maybe I was getting some wrinkles around my eyes. But I looked mostly the same, didn’t I? I glanced down and saw my huge stomach, which was not very well disguised in my almost-toot-tight black t-shirt and flannel.

I didn’t look chubby or big. I looked fat, but not even just normal fat. I looked fat fat. 400+ lbs fat.

Damn. I dried my hands and then stood to the side in the mirror, taking in just how far my belly jutted out. I reached to touch the front of my belly where it hung the lowest and found myself struggling to even reach it all. I knew logically that this wasn’t new. I wasn’t even particularly shocked or upset by the discovery of how shockingly fat I’d gotten, how I’d totally let myself go. But for some reason becoming fat enough that my old friend from middle school didn’t even recognize me? That was … surprising.

I must’ve lingered there staring at myself for a while because Mike was leaving when I turned to go. He did a double take then, staring at my eyes for a second too long before I saw him put two and two together.

“Hi Mike,” I sighed. This wouldn’t have been as embarrassing if he would’ve just recognized me from the get go. But now we both had to acknowledge awkwardly why he didn’t.

“Oh, wow Pete! It’s been… so long,” Mike said delicately, glancing at my belly. Mike looked a little out of shape himself, but it was a modest beer gut. I was in another league of fatness.

I didn’t really want to deal with awkward small talk where we avoided how much we’d changed after graduation, so I said “Yeah, I’m here with Taylor and Allen, come say hi.” I quickly ushered us both out of the men’s room and towards the table.

Mike followed me and I wondered if he was staring at my gait as I walked. I had to take wide steps since my thighs rubbed together.

“Look who I found in the bathroom!” I said as we approached the table. Yuki looked pleased to see me back, and I felt a little guilty to have left her sitting with people she hardly knew for longer than I’d intended.

“Mike! What’s up buddy, how’ve you been?” Taylor said, pulling him into a side hug. I sat back in my seat with a thud. Yuki quickly clung to me, hugging my arm like a teddy bear. I glanced up to see Mike eyeing Yuki sharply.

There was no way he’d… would he?

“You met Pete’s girlfriend yet?” Allen asked, noticing Mike staring.

“N-No,” Mike stuttered.

I swallowed a lump. “Ah, this is Yuki, Yuki this is Mike,” I said calmly. Mike wouldn’t recognize Yuki from that night. That was so long ago. And she looked so different now! Plus she was in her human form, anyhow.

But then why was I so nervous?

“Hello,” Yuki said shyly, hiding into my side a little bit.

Mike’s eyes widened a fraction. “Hi,” he said stiffly. He shook his head and then backed up. “I’d better,” he gestured to where his friends were gathered by the pool table.

“Nice seeing you,” Taylor said. Mike nodded, looked at Yuki once more, and then wandered back.

We didn’t stay long after that.

In the car, I asked Yuki what she thought of the encounter.

“I couldn’t tell much about him since he wasn’t having impure thoughts,” she mused, tapping her chin with one finger. “I remembered him though,” she said with a little grin. “His energy wasn’t as good or strong as Peter’s, even now!” And then she leaned over to place a big juicy kiss on my cheek.

I stopped worrying. Maybe Mike’s reaction could be chalked up to some deja vu from seeing her? If so, that was relatively harmless. And even if he did make the leap that she was the demon from the basement, who would believe him?

No one.

I put the whole thing out of my mind. I should probably be thankful for Mike, actually, because if I hadn’t been trying to impress him all those years ago, I would’ve never met my Yuki.

And Yuki was my everything.

Now it’s been about 5 years since Yuki reappeared in my life and I couldn’t be happier.

Eventually, as I gained more and more weight, I had to make some adjustments to my life. I moved our bedroom downstairs where the office used to be. It just wasn’t safe for me to be climbing those things anymore. I’m almost 500 lbs nowadays.

Yuki likes how big I am, and how much space I take up. She even likes it when I lay on her and squish her under my blubber. She says it feels better than soaking in a hot bathtub even! It isn’t even dangerous since Yuki doesn’t need to breathe.

Sometimes I think we should slow down on my gaining, but I’m pretty much addicted to food. If I go a few hours without a meal I get serious hunger pains. It probably sounds very spoiled, but it’s true!

I ended up asking if I could work from home sometime last year, which was approved. As I said, I think my CEO Seth has a soft spot for me. He even ended up promoting me again, as the his right hand man. He says I can work from home whenever I want so long as I still get work done.

So for the past year, my lifestyle has started to become more and more sedentary. I’m either sitting on the couch (which is feeling a little small these days. Or maybe that’s because I’m wearing a crater-sized dent in the middle of it…) or I’m working at my desk, doing meetings and reports. Yuki makes sure I have everything I need.

At night, she still purrs in happy rumbles, holding any part of me she can latch on to.

“Peter is happy,” Yuki sighed into my chest. She was leaning over my belly, fitting into whatever amount of lap I still had. I scooped another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. I was still pretty full from dinner, but I had room. And it tasted good.

“I am. Very happy,” I sighed, taking another bite. Yuki’s tail caressed my sides, slipping between rolls.

“Hey Yuki,” I said.

“Hmm?”

“Your power… you’ve made me fortunate, right?” I asked.

Yuki licked my double chin sensuously. “Mhmm.”

I sucked on my cold spoon. “But me being so, erm, wanting excess…” I mumbled through another scoop of rocky road. I didn’t really want to say a gluttonous, fat greedy pig out loud. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

Yuki sat up, her purple eyes gleaming in the low light from the TV. I loved how her black horns reflected light, like obsidian.

“Nope,” she popped the P. “That’s all Peter. Yuki only wanted Peter to get what he wants,” Yuki said, running a hand through my swollen chest (I loathed admitting I had moobs).

“Does it matter either way?” Yuki asked after a second.

I thought about it. Took another bite.

“No, I guess it doesn’t.”

I used to wonder if I would’ve ended up this way without someone like Yuki to encourage me to live authentically, but I supposed that wasn’t important. I had my perfect demon Yuki to love and care for, so it only made sense for Yuki to want to love and care for me too.

I scraped the bottom of the carton.

“More?” I asked. Yuki sprang up to fetch another ice cream. I smiled to myself as she raced back over to the couch.

“Here! I got you your favorite, cookie dough!” Yuki smiled at me, her big eyes warm and loving and doting. The kind of look that made my heart melt like candle wax. The look that I loved more than anything else in the world.

“You’re the best, baby,” I said, and Yuki settled back on my lap and started purring. Her tail swished back and forth in a lazy rhythm. I really did have the best demon, didn’t I?

THE END

Epilogue

Mike gathered all of his supplies. Oil, wine, water, a candle… Mike couldn’t remember the exact ritual he’d done with Pete. That was like 20 years ago, after all. But he found one online that seemed legit enough. He recited the latin words as best he could.

Mike knew that whatever had happened way back when was real. He’d had nightmares for weeks following that horrible sleep over. It ended up driving a wedge between them, since Mike unconsciously associated Pete with that terrible night.

But somehow the thing they’d done… it’d worked. The summoning or whatever. Mike saw her, that girl, the girl from the basement, she was at the bar with Pete just a few years ago. She was real. And they were… together.

Mike wanted that. He’d never felt such envy. After all, Mike had been there that night too. Should’t he get an equal cut of whatever benefits Pete got from the demon?

Wy was Mike working as a science teacher struggling to pay bills while Pete was living the corporate American dream? It just wasn’t fair.

So he’d started researching. It took a while for him to build up the nerve, and even longer to recall the exact things they’d done way back when. But now he’d finally done it. He would finally get his own demon. Maybe his would be a hot girl too, and he could date her like Pete was doing with his. That’d be nice. But Mike supposed he could settle for something a little less attractive.

For a few minutes after Mike finished the ritual, nothing happened. The silence went on and on. How annoying. He hadn’t really thought it’d work, but it still sucked that his hard work was wasted. Mike sighed, getting up from the floor and beginning to clean up.

Then, there was a rustle behind him

“Did you call for me?”

#weight gain story #male weight gain #weight gain fiction #bhm/ffa story #male weight gain story #my writing #my stories #always in your shadow

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quads4days · 1 year ago

Text

"Tidal Transformations: The Poolside Mystery"

Prologue: The Spill

The first hint of dawn painted the sky in pastel shades of orange and pink. The tranquillity of the early morning was broken only by the rhythmic thud of Thomas's running shoes on the paved trail. As the rising sun began to illuminate the world, it cast a golden hue on Thomas's imposing form. Each stride showcased the sinewy contours of his calves and the powerful flex of his thighs. His sweat-slicked torso glistened, drawing attention to the ripple of muscles on his abdomen and the broad expanse of his chest, each inhalation highlighting his chiselled pecs. A lifetime of dedication to physical fitness had carved his body into a masterpiece, admired and envied by many in the town.

The bridge up ahead cast its long shadow on the churning river below. Thomas, with his bronzed Adonis-like form, relished these early morning jogs before the demands of his lifeguarding job consumed his day. As he neared the bridge, the discordant blare of sirens invaded the serene ambience. Blue and red lights danced across the mist that had settled over the river. A huge tanker lay sprawled awkwardly in the water, half-submerged. Authorities swarmed the area, working feverishly to secure the scene and retrieve the vehicle.

"What on earth…" Thomas muttered to himself, slowing his pace to observe the commotion. He noticed the logo on the side of the tanker — BB Enterprises, a company he knew to be involved in advanced medical research.

One of the emergency personnel, a woman with steel grey hair and a demeanour that suggested she was in charge, barked orders at her crew. "Ensure every bit of that waste is accounted for!" she shouted.

Thomas watched as large containers, presumably filled with medical waste, were hauled from the river, their contents a mystery to the onlookers. He felt an uneasy churn in his gut, but he couldn't pinpoint why.

A uniformed officer, noticing Thomas's lingering presence, approached him. "Move along, sir. This area is off-limits."

Thomas nodded, tearing his gaze away from the chaotic scene. He resumed his run, but the image of the capsized tanker remained etched in his mind. As he neared the local pool where he worked, a thought struck him — the pool's water was sourced directly from the river.

Chapter One: Shifting Tides

The morning sun beamed down on the local pool, casting shimmering reflections on the water’s surface. Thomas, in his official lifeguard uniform - or rather, the lack thereof, stood as a central figure. Shirtless, with his skin bronzed from endless days in the sun; his physique was an embodiment of strength and allure. His well-defined pecs and the deep valleys between his abdominals drew many an admiring (and envious) glance from patrons.

A subtle nod here and a wink there, Thomas worked the crowd masterfully. His role wasn’t just about ensuring safety; he also played the part of the charming, friendly lifeguard everyone loved to interact with. Children would excitedly wave at him, hoping for some recognition, while adults often initiated casual chats, mostly as an excuse to be near his magnetic presence.

But, for all the attention he commanded, there was one person at the pool that day who equally caught Thomas's discerning eye. It was Ben, a pool regular known for his stamina and the long laps he swam daily. Ben's toned body, with muscles rippling in just the right manner, made him a mirror counterpart to Thomas. As Ben finished his set and hoisted himself out of the pool, the water cascading down his chiselled abs, Thomas approached, raising his hand for their customary high-five.

"Great set today, Ben!" Thomas complimented as their palms met with a satisfying smack.

Ben chuckled, "Thanks! Felt good." The water droplets on his skin accentuated every contour, and Thomas couldn’t help but admire the view. It was an open secret around town about Thomas's fluid preferences, and many suspected that his camaraderie with Ben was more than just friendly.

Their shared glances had an underlying spark, a magnetic pull that had, over time, become a cherished secret between the two men. As Ben made his way to the changing rooms, Thomas followed suit, ensuring he wasn't seen. They both knew the routine, having enacted it countless times before.

The communal showers were deserted at this hour, with only the echoing sound of water dripping from a faulty tap. Steam enveloped the room, making the atmosphere sultry and charged. Without a word, Thomas turned on a shower, the water cascading down, and they stepped into the spray together.

As they closed the distance, Thomas reached for a bottle of soap, letting its silky contents spill onto his palm. He started by lathering Ben's broad shoulders, working his way down the muscular expanse of his back, appreciating every inch. The intimacy of the act, combined with the warm water surrounding them, heightened their senses.

But as Thomas’s hands moved around to Ben's abdomen, a sudden change jolted them both. Beneath his fingers, where once there had been tight, firm muscles, there was now a sudden softness. Thomas pulled back in surprise and watched, horrified, as Ben's fit body began to expand. A spare tyre of fat, uncharacteristic and unexpected, ballooned out around his midsection. Ben’s face twisted in confusion and distress.

"What's happening?" he gasped, his voice edged with panic.

"I don't know," Thomas replied, equally alarmed. The shower was hastily turned off as Ben continued to grow. As Thomas watched, the metamorphosis unfolded in agonising detail. The first thing he noticed was Ben's abdomen distending outward, like a balloon being gradually inflated. The once sharp lines of his six-pack faded, overtaken by the burgeoning flesh. His chest, previously firm and muscled, started to sag under the weight of the sudden adipose. The water cascading down their bodies made the expansion even more surreal, with every droplet magnifying the sight. The once lean and sinewy arms that Thomas had admired filled out, losing their chiselled definition, resembling dough that was proving and expanding.

Ben's face rounded, the sharp jawline becoming softer, plumper. Even his legs, the source of his swimming power, thickened, thighs rubbing together, the chiselled calves bloating outward. The transformation was total, shocking, and yet mesmerising in a grotesque manner.

As fear gripped Ben's widened eyes, Thomas instinctively pulled out his phone with one hand, dialling for an ambulance. But his other hand, driven by a mixture of concern and morbid curiosity, couldn't resist exploring this changed form. His fingers dug into the new, soft layers, tracing the unfamiliar contours. The act was intimate, perhaps even more so than their earlier touch, filled with a combination of wonder, worry, and an undeniable hint of longing. Ben moaned loudly before demanding loudly, “Feed me, Thomas! Make the hunger stop!”

Chapter Two: Transformation in Tandem

Thomas had a strange knack for compartmentalising traumatic events, and the scene of ambulance officers working with an effortful strain to help the newly engorged Ben into their vehicle was already locked away. The hospital would determine the cause - a severe allergic reaction, they surmised. However, the hedonistic memory of their tryst, a fusion of passion and panic, the sensation of touch transforming from solid muscle to softening flesh, still lingered fresh in his mind.

Later that day, the sun cast long, rippling reflections on the pool's surface, and as always, Thomas stood sentinel over his domain. His bronze, chiselled torso gleamed with droplets of water, each muscle defined and taut. It wasn’t just his duty to guard the pool; he was also its prime spectacle.

When Cameron and Arthur approached the pool's entrance, their athletic bodies testament to hours of dedication at the neighbouring CrossFit, Thomas couldn’t help but give them an appreciative glance. Cameron's sinewy frame was a stark contrast to Arthur’s bulkier, sculpted build, yet both radiated sheer power. Their pecs were defined, every ripple in their abs visible, thighs strong, and calves like sculpted stone.

Seeing them, Thomas’ roguish smile appeared, and he motioned for them to enter on the house. It was an unspoken transaction - a simple exchange of favours between bodies that understood and admired one another. They grinned back, their tight trunks hinting at their gym-honed glutes.

After an hour or so of swimming, the duo emerged, water glistening off their tanned bodies, making their muscles look even more pronounced. With a sly glance in Thomas’s direction, they moved towards the staff showers. And although they didn't beckon him verbally, Thomas knew the ritual.

Slipping in behind them, the steamy atmosphere of the showers almost acted as a veil, obscuring the outside world. Cameron and Arthur, already towel-dried, turned to face Thomas, their expressions a mix of mischief and anticipation. Drawing him in, three sets of hands explored familiar terrains.

However, amidst the passionate embrace, Thomas felt something amiss. His hands, as they roamed over Cameron and Arthur, detected subtle differences. The once hard obliques seemed softer, the chiselled midriffs slightly padded. It felt as though each man had suddenly added about 10kg to their waists. Deja vu hit Thomas like a tidal wave. Memories of Ben flashed before his eyes, and a frisson of anxiety rushed through him even as the steam and passion surrounded them. The misty veil of steam around them only accentuated the charged atmosphere as Thomas, Cameron, and Arthur entwined. Each movement was a symphony of muscle against muscle, their bronzed bodies glistening with beads of water and perspiration. Their Adonis-like forms were nothing short of mesmerising; every ripple of a muscle, every flex of a bicep, and the way their physiques intertwined felt like a work of art in motion.

Yet, as their fervour grew, Thomas noticed an undeniable shift. Cameron's lean frame, known for its sinewy muscles, started to soften. His defined abdomen started to round; each previously defined muscle seemed to blur and soften under Thomas's touch. Arthur, who possessed a bulkier but equally defined build, began to plump up more prominently. The thick, sculpted pectorals started to sag slightly, no longer firm but turning softer, more malleable.

As the moments passed and their passion intensified, the transformation became more evident. Arthur's muscular legs, once rock-hard and sculpted, now jiggled slightly, thickening and expanding. Cameron's once chiselled jawline started to round, a double chin subtly emerging. Their weight seemed to increase dramatically, the very force of it pushing against Thomas, almost pinning him between their ever-expanding forms.

Thomas felt both awe and a rising panic as the two men continued to swell in size. Their combined weight, growing from a lithe 80kg each to a staggering 120kg, was both a marvel and a mystery. The weight wasn't just in fat; their muscles also grew but were rapidly being enveloped by the expanding flesh. The sculpted physiques he had admired were transforming into softer, larger versions.

Their passionate endeavours slowed down as Cameron and Arthur felt the changes themselves, their movements becoming heavier, more laboured. There was a brief moment of shared alarm in their eyes, yet their physical connection didn't wane. Encased between the two, Thomas was trapped, not just by their weight but by the sheer inexplicability of the situation.

The room, charged with a mix of passion and panic, became a tableau of transformation. Thomas’ adonis figure was encased between the two men, once at the pinnacle of physical fitness, now ex-jocks whose CrossFit days were now long in the rearview mirror.

Chapter Three: The Inevitable Waves of Change

The sun glinted off Thomas's bronzed skin, accentuating each sinewy curve of his muscular frame as he sat atop his lifeguard tower. The strength evident in his thickly set arms and broad chest was not just for show. However, even his years of rigorous training had not prepared him for the surreal events of the past day. Distracted by the afterglow of yesterday’s encounter, a frantic cry from the water jolted Thomas back into his role. Two young women, who had been happily splashing around earlier, now appeared to be struggling, their once slender bodies rapidly changing. As Thomas squinted against the glare, he realised with shock that they weren't drowning but were instead inflating, their limbs becoming rounder and their torsos swelling like balloons.

With a speed that belied his size, Thomas was in the water, the taut muscles of his back and legs propelling him forward. As he approached the duo, their faces showed a mix of confusion and panic. Each girl's waistline had thickened, and their once-fitted swimwear now stretched to its limits. The buoyancy of their new, plush forms made it easier for Thomas to guide them towards the shallower end, but as they reached the pool's edge, their rapid weight gain made it near impossible for them to lift themselves out.

Relying on his immense strength, Thomas, with veins pulsing in his thick forearms, reached under the arms of one girl, heaving her upwards. Her once firm body now felt soft and malleable under his hands. Managing to get her seated at the pool's edge, he turned back to the other, using his broad shoulders and back to push her out of the water.

Out of the pool, they looked like entirely different individuals, their skin glistening not just with pool water but stretched over newly formed rolls of fat. Their swimsuits, designed for svelte figures, were now digging into their flesh, creating lines where the fabric strained.

As Thomas tried to calm the panicked girls, assuring them that medical help was on the way, two men – presumably their boyfriends – emerged from the pool. Their chiselled jaws dropped in horror at the sight of their transformed girlfriends. But before they could even process the situation, they themselves became the centre of attention. Beginning with tightness in their swim trunks, their glutes began expanding outward at a rapid pace. Their athletic chests puffed out, but not with the solid feel of muscle. Within minutes, their formerly sculpted abs were buried beneath layers of soft, yielding fat.

The pool area was now in chaos, with onlookers pointing and whispering. Thomas, though stunned, knew he needed to act. But deep inside, he couldn't deny a sense of exhilaration at witnessing these incredible transformations up close. The pool had become an epicentre of mysterious, rapid weight gain, and the root cause still eluded him. He just hoped he could keep his own desires in check long enough to unravel this enigma, realising he himself had just taken a plunge into the same waters that had changed these patrons.

Chapter Four: Tempting Fate

Thomas' gaze darted back and forth between the pool water and his reflection. The events of the past days had left a cloud of paranoia over him. He expected to see a softened face, a rounded belly, or fleshy arms. Instead, the figure that stared back was the familiar masterpiece he had worked hard to chisel: defined cheekbones, a broad chest with each pec defined, and abdominal muscles carved to perfection.

The serenity of the day was abruptly shattered by the sound of a scuffle near the deep end. A young woman with golden locks was visibly uncomfortable, her blue eyes flashing with anger as she tried to ward off the advances and unsolicited fondling of a brawny jock. He was undeniably imposing with steroid-enhanced muscles that threatened to burst from his tight-fitting shirt.

Without hesitation, Thomas stepped forward, interposing himself between the two. "Why don't you take a swim and cool off?" he suggested, subtly emphasizing the jock's flushed face.

The jock squared up, his artificially inflated biceps bulging with what seemed like suppressed rage. The menacing stare, the tightly clenched jaw—Thomas met it all with a calm and assertive gaze. Deciding to bait him, Thomas playfully taunted, "I bet you can't swim a kilometer without stopping."

The jock's hand shot forward, shoving Thomas with a force that would have unbalanced any lesser man. However, Thomas' well-toned legs held firm. With a grumble, the jock accepted the challenge, quickly discarding his shirt and revealing a torso that was more akin to a Greek statue than a real human. Without another word, he plunged into the water, his strokes strong and powerful.

The girl approached Thomas, gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly. However, Thomas' attention was fixed on the pool. His heart raced, not from fear or adrenaline, but from anticipation.

As the laps continued, the jock's form began to falter. By the 38th lap, his once smooth, rhythmic strokes began to appear sluggish. Thomas leaned forward, eyes narrowed in concentration. And then it began.

At first, it was a subtle ripple in the water, an unexplained disturbance. But soon, the jock's broad shoulders, which had been slicing through the water with precision, now looked...softer. The once tight skin that had showcased every sinewy muscle now seemed to wobble with each stroke. His well-defined back started to round, flesh pushing outward. His tight swimming trunks, which had previously only accentuated his lean physique, began to dig into expanding flesh.

What was once a trim waist ballooned outward, pushing against the fabric of his swimwear. His steroid-enhanced pecs, previously firm and proud, sagged under the weight of accumulating fat. And his thighs, those powerful pistons that had propelled him so effortlessly, now chafed with each kick.

By the 40th lap, the jock could swim no more. He clung to the edge of the pool, panting heavily. His previously Adonis-like figure had transformed into something softer, rounder, and undeniably heavier. The once cocky swagger was replaced by a look of pure disbelief, his eyes wide as they took in his newly acquired bulk. The jock, gasping and struggling in the water, turned his terrified eyes to Thomas. The arrogance and confidence that had once been a mainstay of his countenance had vanished, replaced with raw fear. His flailing arms reached out, trying to gain some purchase on the pool's edge, but his newfound bulk made even the simplest actions cumbersome.

Thomas stood tall and imposing, his taut muscles and athletic form casting a shadow over the expanding man. The pool's once still water now undulated, disturbed by the jock's desperate thrashing and the rapid inflation of his body. The very sight of this once proud figure begging, his voice desperate and strained, was a contrast that wasn’t lost on Thomas.

The jock's growth was not a slow transformation this time. It was as if nature itself sought to expedite his retribution. His abdomen distended first, pushing outward at a pace that was almost audible, the taut skin stretching to accommodate the rapid accumulation of fat. His pecs, once firm and prominent, drooped heavily, merging with the fatty bulge of his midsection.

Thomas, leaning down, whispered, "You reap what you sow." His voice was cold and unforgiving, and the jock's eyes widened in terror, his pleading intensifying.

The jock's limbs started to thicken next. Muscles that once rippled with power now disappeared beneath expanding flesh. His once muscular arms looked like they were being pumped full of air, his forearms disappearing into meaty hands. And his legs, his strong, tree-trunk legs, now resembled massive pillars, growing at such a rate that they started to push against each other, constrained by the water.

Thomas, with a sudden jolt of compassion and realisation, began trying to rescue the jock from his swelling fate. He reached forward, his muscular arms straining against the sheer mass of the man. A crowd gathered, and several bystanders, fuelled by a mix of curiosity and altruism, joined Thomas in his efforts.

With every pull, with every heave, the jock's body continued its relentless expansion. As they passed the 450kg mark, it felt as if they were trying to rescue a giant balloon being rapidly inflated. The weight was staggering, and the sheer girth of the jock was making it difficult to get a proper grip. But Thomas, driven by determination, rallied the crowd, and with a concerted effort, they managed to drag the jock to the edge of the pool.

However, by the time they succeeded in partially hauling him out, the jock was almost unrecognisable. The man, who had once been the epitome of athletic prowess, was now a mound of flesh, his features almost entirely obscured by his bloated form. The once-tight swimwear had given way, lost beneath the folds of his immense bulk. His breathing was laboured, each inhalation causing his massive body to quiver. By now, it was evident that he was pushing 500kg.

Thomas, panting and drenched in sweat, looked at the behemoth in front of him. The transformation was both mesmerising and horrifying, a stark reminder of the pool's mysterious and terrifying power.

Chapter Five: Whispers of Change

The events of the previous day had turned the once-quiet pool into a site of intrigue. The sun hung high and unrelenting, its rays bouncing off the glistening water, drawing even larger crowds to the infamous pool. The whispers about the 500kg transformation reached far and wide, but instead of deterring patrons, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Thomas perched in his high chair, his eyes scanning the bustling pool area. The sight of Cameron and Arthur, sprawled out by the poolside took him by surprise. Their newly acquired bellies — prominent, round, and proudly displayed — caught the sun’s rays, making their skin shine. Their hands caressed each other's newfound bulk, fingers sinking slightly into the soft flesh. The two seemed content, undisturbed by their recent changes, their love for each other apparently deepened by their shared experience.

While the previous transformations had been dramatic, the effects today were subtler, perhaps because of the crowd. But they were still noticeable if one knew where to look. And Thomas, with his keen observation, definitely noticed.

A father, probably in his late 40s, emerged from the pool. While earlier he'd had the tell-tale signs of a mild dad bod — soft around the edges but not particularly pronounced — now there was a definite change. The waistband of his shorts dug into a newly formed layer of fat, creating a slight overhang. His shirt, once loosely draped over his frame, now clung to a more rounded midsection. He seemed oblivious to the extra weight, chatting animatedly with his family as they settled down for a picnic.

Further down, a group of young women, probably in their early twenties, stepped out of the pool. They had spent no more than fifteen minutes in the water, but the effects were undeniable. The high-cut bikini bottoms, which had once accentuated their toned physiques, now had a slightly different story to tell. Soft, pillowy flesh now crept over the edges, not enough to be immediately alarming, but enough for an observant eye to notice.

Thomas continued his vigil, noting each transformation. A teenage boy, athletic and spry when he entered, now had a faint roundness to his cheeks and a slight pudginess to his belly. An older woman, once svelte and elegant in her one-piece, had her thighs now touched in a way they hadn’t before.

The transformations were myriad — some subtle, some a bit more pronounced, but none as drastic as the jock's. The pool's power, it seemed, was proportional to the exposure, and the patrons seemed oblivious to the fact that their day of leisure had more costs than their planned for.

Chapter Six: Ripples of Transformation

It was late afternoon when the rumbling sounds of camaraderie echoed through the pool area. A team of rugby players, their jerseys marked with the evidence of a fiercely fought game, entered in high spirits. Each player was the epitome of fitness, their physiques chiselled from hours of rigorous training and matches.

Thomas recognised the team. They were the local heroes, having won the regional championships earlier that day. They had come to celebrate, to wash off the sweat and grime, and to enjoy a moment of reprieve.

The players, laughing and joking, quickly stripped down to their swimwear. Their muscles rippled, each movement showcasing years of dedication to their sport. The sunlight gleamed off their broad backs, their torsos tapering down to lean waists and powerful legs. Initially, they lounged by the pool, chatting and relishing their victory. But soon, the temptation of the cool water proved too much. With playful shoves and mock protests, they all ended up in the pool. Their boisterous energy transformed the ambience, their laughter infectious.

Thomas observed them from his perch, aware of what might ensue, but equally curious to see the outcome. As minutes turned to hours, he began to notice the initial signs.

The team captain, a tall man with a prominent jawline and a frame that bespoke power, was the first to show visible change. His abs, previously like a washboard, started to soften, each pack melding into the next. His pecs, once tight and firm, began to droop ever so slightly.

Next, the swift winger, known for his agility, found his thighs thickening, the toned muscles now covered in a layer of plumpness. His face, sharp and angular, took on a rounder, softer appearance.

One by one, each player underwent their transformation. Some added bulk around their waists, the beginnings of a belly forming. Others found their biceps and triceps becoming less distinct, blending into the increasing fullness of their arms. Butts expanded, pushing against the fabric of their swimwear. Faces filled out, necks disappeared, and backs broadened further.

Yet, amidst this change, the spirit of the team remained undeterred. They acknowledged their expanding forms with humour as if only realising their team mates physiques for the first time, slapping each other’s muscle bellies. Their bond, it seemed, only strengthened.

Their mirth was infectious, spreading quickly to the pool’s other patrons. But their loudest cheers were reserved for one person—Thomas.

“Hey! It’s the legendary Thomas!” the team's burly prop forward shouted, causing heads to turn and hushed whispers to circulate. Many of the players shared knowing glances and cheeky winks. Tales of Thomas's passionate escapades with some of the team members were the stuff of legend. His reputation, it seemed, was as well-known off the lifeguard chair as it was on it.

In their post-match euphoria, a playful plot began to form. With a gleam in their eyes, several players approached Thomas. “Fancy a dip, lifeguard?” the captain teased, the undercurrent of mischief evident in his voice.

Thomas laughed it off at first, but the men were insistent, their intentions clear as they closed in. He began to resist, using all his might to fend off their advances. But even the renowned strength of Thomas, impressive as it was, stood little chance against a group of determined and slightly inebriated rugby players.

The world seemed to blur and slow as he felt himself lifted and then, with a dramatic arc, hurled into the pool. The coldness of the water shocked his senses, but instinct kicked in, and he swam to the surface as swiftly as he could, eager to escape the potentially transformative properties of the water.

Emerging, his hair slicked back and his body glistening, he was met with the raucous applause and cheers of the rugby team. They congratulated him on his swift escape, patting him on the back, their expanding hands now noticeably softer. As they struggled to fit into their jerseys, now straining at the seams and riding up over their enlarging bellies, the mood remained lighthearted.

The evening eventually wound down, and as the last echoes of laughter faded into the night, a profound sensation overcame Thomas. A hunger, deep and insatiable, gnawed at him, his stomach growling loudly. Thomas sighed in relief when his hand felt solid abs as it rubbed his torso, but the hunger remained. He glanced at the still waters of the pool, its mysteries continuing to deepen as his mind raced through what he would eat on his way home from work.

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