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[futuredadbods]

Eating his Words

I’d been working at Dunkin’ for over a year now, and it’s been murder on my waistline. There are so many amazing, tempting, sugary foods. As someone with a sweet tooth, it’s hard to ignore a donut, or two, or three. All the drinks are packed with sugar and calories, which is hard to resist. First, it was getting one donut in the morning, then it was two every day, then I started taking some home with me. As the weeks continued, as I tried out every flavor on the menu, my shirts began to get tighter and tighter. They began to cling to my belly when before the fabric would hang loose. Love handles blossomed on my sides, evident in my tightening shirts giving me a pear-like appearance. Even my chest softened and my nipples were prominent in every shirt I wore. If you looked closely, you could even see the indent of my belly button. I was softer all over and I looked doughy and flabby. Twice now I’ve had to ask for a new work polo, moving from a medium to a large and then graduating to an extra-large. When I requested the extra-large from my manager I was so nervous, and I saw her glancing at my gut before she said she would order it as soon as possible.

Today I was working the front register. That morning my pants refused to button so I used a rubber band to loop around the hole and close them, my gut straining against the makeshift barrier covered by my belt. The belt itself was tight as well, and that morning I knew I would either have to add a new belt hole or buy a new belt and admit how fat I’d gotten. My legs felt so restricted in my jeans, my ass and thighs straining them, but there wasn’t much I could do about it now. I didn’t even bother tucking in my shirt; there wasn’t enough material. I often found when I reached up to get something on a high shelf, it would ride up my belly and get stuck on it, exposing the way my hairy gut drooped over my belt and how much my love handles were escaping my pants. I would quickly pull it down but occasionally I would catch myself rubbing my gut in the same way I would if I was eating a lot and needed to relieve the bloating. I was thinking about this when the door opened and my favorite customer came in. He was a bit taller than I was, with messy dark hair and green eyes. He was always put together and had this easy-going nature about him. Seeing him made my heart skip a beat. I would constantly fantasize about having a coffee shop meet cute where I would write my number on his cup, but I never did.

“The usual, Mike?”

“Yes please, but add a blueberry donut this time if you don’t mind”

He smiled at me and my cheeks burned. Hopefully, he didn’t notice. I rang him up and as I handed him his receipt, he glanced down instead of at my hand.

“Hey man, have you tried the blueberry donuts yourself? They’re really good, but I can only get them every once in a while, because of how sugary and fattening they are”.

I followed his eyes and looked down at my belly. Not only did I notice how tight it was, but my shirt had ridden up again! I quickly pulled it down, burning with shame. I couldn’t believe I let my fat spill out like that. And in front of him of all people. But on second thought, he shouldn’t have said anything. How dare he assume I’m this size because I work here? How dare he assume I even like blueberry donuts?? I mean, he was kind of right, but he didn’t know, and it’s not like I can help myself.

I nervously mumbled thanks and turned around. As I began making his latte, I looked at the milk dispenser. Next to it was the heavy cream. Occasionally, you’ll get a few customers who ask for cream in their lattes instead of milk and I always imagined how fattening that must be to get every day. Then, it struck me. Why not give Mike a taste of the fatty lifestyle? I pressed the heavy cream button and put it into his drink. All in all, it would be about a cup of cream. For good measure, I doubled the amount of sugar he asked for. When I handed it to him with the donut, I put on a smile and my best customer service voice. He took a sip and said that this was the best coffee he’d gotten from the store and thanked me, putting an extra dollar in the tip jar. Perfect, I thought. Pretty, but stupid. He didn’t even call me out. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen to pretty boy now.

Every day he came in, and every day I made his special order. The first week I kept glancing at his shirt to see anything, but I knew I wouldn’t get results right away. Eventually, I began adding more and more cream and sugar to his coffee and convinced him to order more and more donuts, telling him one kind was new or that there was a sale for another. After a month or so, I began noticing that his shirts were starting to look a little strained around his middle. Just the faintest bit, where his belly pressed against the material. Most of the time he tried to suck it in, but I would catch him letting it go when he thought nobody was looking and my eyes went wide. His sides were beginning to pack on some weight too, forming a small tire around his jeans. His jeans as well were beginning to look tight. What was once a tight, round ass was now a blubbery, jiggly one. In just six weeks, he’d put on at least 15 pounds. With every pound, he became more and more attractive. His softening body seemed so cuddly and safe, but also erotic. I would constantly stare at his shirts to see the tiniest bit of jiggling, getting turned on at the way everything clung to his form, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I needed more. I wanted to watch him get bigger and bigger, and it was so hot seeing him pack on the pounds. As the months progressed, his appetite grew with his waistline and his wardrobe started to look a bit different. Instead of his usual jeans, he began switching to sweatpants and baggy shirts. Although, eventually those shirts would become fitted and then tight. One day, he sat inside to eat and inhaled four donuts in two minutes, barely pausing to breathe. It was amazing watching him pack away so much in so little time. His shirt and mouth were covered with frosting and powdered sugar, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was so preoccupied with eating that he didn’t notice how much of a slob he was. After he finished, he rested his hands on his now much bigger gut. It stuck out far in front of him and I could hardly handle how worked up I was getting hearing him burp and rub his belly. Maybe it was my imagination but he seemed to enjoy it.

About six months after I had started sabotaging Mike, he came into the store around the usual time. He walked in, his belly jiggling with every step, in tight sweatpants and a shirt that hid nothing. His chest could no longer be called pecs, they were big and jiggled along with his belly, and sagged a bit. He now had a permanent double chin from all angles, it was so hot to see his face get round and soft and I had the urge to stroke his jaw and tease him for letting himself go. His arms looked much bigger and looked constricted in his shirt. His thighs were massive and doughy, stretching his sweatpants. His belly, god his belly. It stuck out so far in front of him, jiggling with every movement and hanging over his waistband. His shirt revealed the rolls beginning to form on his sides and back, along with his massive love handles. He was huge. If I were to guess, he’d gained at least 60 pounds since I started, if not more. His once put together looks were replaced by clothes meant to hide fat, but if anything, they showed off his gain even more.

“Hey Mike, good to see you! Usual latte? And what donuts will you be getting today?”

He smiled brightly and with his newly softened face, he looked so pretty and adorable. Before he spoke, I took a quick glance at his gut now that he was closer and that was when I saw it. Just the smallest thing and maybe I wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t looking for it. But just below the hem of his shirt, I could see the curve of his belly. Pale, hairy flesh peeked out and I could see the way it curved over the waistband of his sweatpants. Holy fuck, he was fat. 

“Although, maybe I would stay away from the donuts today. You know how they are, you get them every day and they begin to become quite… fattening”. On the last word, I made sure to lower my gaze to his belly. 

His eyes widened. He looked down as I smiled, and saw the stripe of fat that was exposed. He sheepishly pulled it down and laughed, trying to play it off, but I could see he was nervous and maybe something more. I smiled wide. I couldn’t believe I did it. I won. I made this rude customer fat like me and eat his words. And he became so much cuter in the process. Still smiling, I asked what he wanted to order, and he looked me dead in the eyes and said,

“I was thinking about two dozen today actually. You know, a big guy like me has to eat”.

He patted his gut to emphasize the words. I felt my cheeks heat up, staring at his wobbling belly. His eyes lit up and he smiled while I looked. Clearly, he wanted me to notice. I was stunned by how forward he was, how he seemed to embrace his new fattened figure. I quickly scrambled to assemble two dozen of his favorites and of the most fattening pasties I could find. As I handed the boxes over, he whispered to me-

“When you go on your break, meet me in the back parking lot. I’ll be in a blue SUV”.

Then he winked and turned towards the door, his fat ass wobbling behind him. I was so worked up with the whole interaction. While waiting for my break I was aching the whole time, imagining what he was doing in the car. Ten minutes later I went on my half and ran to the back parking lot to find that he’d already started his feast, sitting in the back row and finishing half of a box. I opened the back door and he smiled slyly,

“Hop in.”

I slid into the back and was greeted with quite a sight.

His shirt was pulled up to reveal a massive, hairy belly with a roll underneath his moobs which were quite impressive. His nipples were softer and wide which made him look even fatter. He had red stretch marks all up his gut and a deepening belly button. This massive belly sat on his big thighs and took up a lot of his lap. He burped as I sat down and looked at me, his eyes hazy with lust.

“Once you started suggesting more donuts, I caught on to what you were doing. I just thought you were being friendly or flirtatious until my pants couldn’t button. Then I put two and two together and noticed you staring at my middle whenever I came in. But I love the attention. I love how you look at me and I love the food so much. I couldn’t stop eating, especially when I thought of you admiring my gut. Soon, I just wanted to mindlessly eat and get heavier and heavier like you. That’s why I ate like that in the restaurant, to catch your eye. I’ve been thinking about you for weeks, feeding me a dozen and then two dozen while you admire your handiwork.”.

My jaw dropped. I thought I was being slick. He looked at me again, with an expression that pleaded to touch him. I reached a hand out to his belly. I was surprised by how soft and squishy he was, my hands sinking into his fat. I began jiggling and shaking it like I always imagined. I leaned in for a kiss and to my surprise, he kissed back and suddenly our hands were all over each other. Our kisses began as deep and slow, and then quickened and became searing. Everything felt so intense, and it was heightened by the feeling of such softness from both him and me. Feeling my belly press against his, how soft his jaw felt when I held his face to pull him in. His hands were running through my hair, gripping it when I slid my hands under his shirt and began squeezing his ample moobs. I teased my thumb over his nipple and he jumped, moaning loudly. I gasped and kept going, squeezing and jiggling his chest and playing with his plump nipples. His moans started turning into whines and he began panting into my mouth, so turned on and worked up he couldn’t kiss back. I ran my hands down his sides, groping his love handles, squeezing his belly, picking it up and dropping it. I loved hearing him moan as he felt the weight of his belly hit his thighs. Shivers went through me as I watched everything jiggle and wobble. I got a donut out of the box and pressed it to his lips.

“Eat up, fatboy”.

He nodded, so worked up and breathless. He ate with such vigor and ferocity, needing to eat. Needing to be fattened. His hands rested on his gut, feebly patting it as he let me continue to stuff him. I couldn’t believe he was actually going to be able to finish 24 donuts. One after another I fed them to him. When there were three left, he started whining and rubbing his belly. I could tell he was reaching his limit. But he didn’t say to stop. As I hesitated with another jelly donut in hand, he wrapped his chubby hand around my wrist and guided the donut to his lips. While making eye contact, he bit into it, and then quickly demolished this donut like the others. I gasped and felt shivers go through me. I nearly came in that moment. Here was this guy, who six months ago was just an ordinary person, now succumbing, no, wanting, craving, needing to be filled to the brim.  Finally, he did it. He was covered with frosting and sprinkles and sugar, looking like he destroyed a bakery. Crumbs were coated around his lips and double chin. God, he was such a pig. I ached looking at him like this. His belly was tight as a drum and so bloated. Like this, it looked huge. I helped him rub it, easing out burps and moans. He leaned in to kiss me again. This time I tasted sugar and chocolate. I looked at the clock on the dash after we separated and saw I was way past my time. I opened the door and composed myself, apologizing and telling him how amazing it was as I started to leave.

“Save me another dozen tomorrow?” He asked.