#ideally Lee would have slowly formed bad habits and gotten less careful but I honestly just wanted to get to the fun stuff fast

[sporco-filth]

i started writing this story a very long time ago. it's probably only the second or third slob story I'd written at the time and i was still getting comfortable writing about kink stuff (because it feels so self indulgent to do so and embarrassing even if you're the only one reading it).

Still, it's decent enough and I just kept adding to it over the years so it's a pretty big work of writing (over 16000 words apparently which i just checked and am surprised about enough that i had to triple check it). Since it's so long I'm splitting it into pieces.

Synopsis: Lee is a neat freak and moves in with a slob called Bob. Lee realises he has a slob fetish and slowly but surely gives in to his desires.

Bob looked into his fridge and scratched his belly. He pulled out a large piece of cake and shut the door. He sat down on the couch, moving aside some empty takeaway containers from who knows when, and opened a bottle of coke. Cake and soft drink: the perfect breakfast. Flicking boredly through the TV, he thought how six months ago he'd never have been able to enjoy this. Back then he was dating Velma, a health nut and a clean freak. She was nice and all but he couldn't stand her nagging. Bob preferred to laze on the couch all day rather than tire himself out walking; his five main food groups were fatty, sugary, salty, carbs and meat; he didn't care about living in a pigsty and his prowess in belching, to him, was a symbol of masculinity. Velma had tried to whip him into shape, and for a while he was pretty close to giving in. But after a weekend with the boys he remembered all the best things about his old, bachelor ways and decided the relationship had to end.

Now, Bob can eat junk food till he's stuffed, burp long and loud, leave his dirty undies on the floor and never needs to wash again; the closest he'll ever get to sport is watching it on TV. Bob, finishing the last of his cake, let out a loud belch. He patted his prominent gut, the product of years of avoiding physical activity and following a strict diet of takeout, beer and never skipping dessert. He was very proud of it.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door and, rather reluctantly, got up to check. Standing there was a thin, fairly athletic guy holding a newspaper clipping. "Are you Mr Gutt?" He asked, reading off the paper. "I'm here to see about renting the apartment." "Yeh, that's me," Bob replied. "Come on in. What's your name?" "I'm Lee," he said. It was then that he looked up and saw the man in front of him in all his slobbishness. He was visibly surprised but made no comment. "So, uh, why are you renting out this place?" He asked, avoiding the elephant in the room. "My girlfriend moved out a while back. I haven't been able to find anyone since though." Lee thought he could tell why, but didn't say anything as he took it all in: the piles of unwashed dishes stacked high in the sink, the dirty laundry thrown about everywhere, the junk food wrappers strewn about, the overflowing trash cans, the bathroom that seemed like it hadn't been cleaned in years. It was a complete and utter pigsty.

Lee was oddly titillated by all this: the total abandon and laissez faire attitude, the heady stench of sweat and filth, the naughtiness of such indulgence. He knew he shouldn't agree, but he so wanted to, and there hadn't been any place with as cheap a rent in so good an area… He let his desires control him and soon found himself signing the deal. "I'll be moving in as soon as I can," he said. "I can't wait!" Bob was a little surprised someone so clean and thin would want to live in a place like this, he was a little concerned he might end up with a repeat of Velma, but he wasn't going to refuse an applicant willing to pay.

The next week, Lee had moved into the spare room. Still in his usual habits, he had a perfectly made bed, freshly pressed clothes hung neatly and was still following his regular diet and exercise plan. Bob was a little perturbed, but the cleanliness hadn't infected the rest of the house so he let it slide. Lee longed to join Bob in his slobdom, however, but couldn't muster the audacity to let himself go like his roommate.

Lee would get up early for his morning jog. Entering the living room, he'd see Bob asleep on the couch, TV still on from his late-night binge-watching, lap full of crumbs from his midnight snack, and Lee would envy that freedom Bob had to do as he pleased. Preparing breakfast, he'd see all of Bob's sugary biscuits as he got his muesli from the pantry, would see all his chocolates and chips as he looked for his fruit, and all the soft drinks and beer when he took his water bottle out of the fridge. His stomach growled, hungry for those delicious, calorific foods, but he refused that desire. Taking a shower, he'd notice the dirty socks and underwear that were scattered around the bathroom and the unflushed toilet. He longed to be able to live in that state of filth, to never have to bathe again and just revel in his own stench, but he couldn't…

Lee's runs gave him a chance to clear his mind of his desires; he couldn't live like that, he just couldn't. It wasn't his life. His life was clean, fit, healthy, hygienic, polite, neat, tidy, thin, fresh, pure…

But try as he might, the thought of what his life might be like if he gave into his desires plagued him throughout the day. During a dull moment in the office, his mind wandered from thought to thought. Soon he found himself daydreaming: there he was, lazing on the sofa, wearing nothing but a pair of old tighty whities, mouth full of greasy pizza, watching TV late at night. In his imagination, he grabbed a bottle of beer, took a swig, and belched. He patted his gut proudly… Wait, gut? Yes, in this fantasy, Lee had a beer belly that would rival Bob's: the product of an indulgent, couch potato lifestyle. Lee drifted back to reality and noticed how excited that fantasising had left him. Who'd have thought he could be so turned on by something so… dirty. Lee shook his head, it was just a silly fetish, nothing more. He put it out of mind for the rest of the day.

When he returned home, he saw Bob scrounging around the kitchen, looking for something to eat. He was always eating, whatever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. "How was work?" He asked, trying to decide between chocolate and doughnuts. "Alright," said Lee, watching as Bob ended up choosing both. "The usual." "Did you want anything?" Bob asked, proffering him the box of doughnuts. "Oh, wait sorry. I keep forgetting you don't eat this sort of food." Lee smiled. "That's ok, it's not like I'm offended or anything." Bob plopped himself down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table, pushing aside a haphazard pile of trash in the process. "You remind me a lot of my ex: she was a obsessed with being healthy too. I can't understand people like you." Lee frowned. "What do you mean?" "I mean, why spend your life in misery when you can enjoy it and not worry about stupid things like making the bed or eating healthy. I tell you, you guys are obsessive." "I am not obsessive," protested Lee. "Sure you're not." "I'm not." "Prove it." Lee wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "Fine, what would you have me do?" Bob thought for a bit, he hadn't expected his challenge to be accepted. "It needs to be something kinda big, but nothing huge…" He had it. "I want you to sit down on the recliner, eat one of the donuts, drink a can of soda and you can't move or fidget until this episode finishes. And if you burp or anything, you need to let it loose and not say 'excuse me' or anything." "That's hardly fair!" "It's nothing, unless you really are obsessed with health and all that trash." "Fine, I'll do it." Lee sat down on the recliner, and picked up a doughnut from the box. He pulled the chair back and got into a comfortable position. Though he'd never let Bob know, he enjoyed the feeling of the soft, worn cushion on his bum. He could even feel the crumbs left by Bob from countless nights of snacking in that chair. He looked at the doughnut, the dim light (one of Bob's undies had inexplicably ended up on the hanging light) reflected off the sugary glaze. It looked so tempting, so sweet, so… unhealthy. He took a bite. It was heavenly. He savoured the sweet taste as he slowly chewed and swallowed. Then he ate more and more until the doughnut was all gone. He imagined it sitting in his stomach, all the sugary, fatty goodness. Then he took a swig of his soft drink. The bubbles tickled his throat and the sugary taste tingled his taste buds. After another few sips, he felt a burp coming. As per Bob's rules, he opened his mouth and let out a sizeable belch. Nothing amazing, but still fairly impressive for someone who'd pretty much never burped before. "Not bad, Lee," Bob said with a smile. "If I trained you, you could become a real pro. Listen to this." Bob took a gulp of beer and released a huge, manly belch. Lee felt his face flush, but rather than focusing on Bob's burp, Lee thought about what he had just said: "If I trained you…" Lee imagined that: instead of running marathons, he'd marathon TV shows; instead of dieting, he'd be overindulging; instead of doing sit ups, he'd be sitting down; instead of burpees, he'd practise burping. It was almost more than he could dream of.

The two passed the remainder of the show in silence except for the odd burp here and there. Lee regretted eating his doughnut so quickly and he soon felt like another. The more rational part of his mind told him that this was just a fun game: once it was over he'd get back to his normal life. The other part of him so wished that this 'game' would never end. Eventually, of course, it did end, and Lee hopped up off the chair, trying to shake off any thoughts of continuing. "That was ok," he said to Bob, feigning disinterest. "But I prefer exercise over sitting around all day." "Suit yourself," said Bob. "But at least I've proved I'm not obsessive." "If you say so."

The next morning, as Lee was about to make his bed, he thought 'why?' Why bother making his bed when it'll just need to be messed up again? Who was he trying to impress? Did it really matter if he did it or not? If it didn't, then why not just leave it unmade? So Lee left his bed in a mess and continued his day as normal, the bed completely leaving his thoughts. When he went to bed that night, however, slipping into the unmade sheets, he felt an odd sense of freedom. As if he was rebelling against the rules, as if he was being a bit naughty not making his bed. Waking up, Lee didn't give a second thought to his bed as he got ready and soon leaving his bed unmade almost became a morning ritual.

About a week after his little challenge with Bob, Lee was walking home from work when he noticed a bakery that, in the past, he had always paid no heed. What caught his eye was a collection of glistening doughnuts in the window. Just the sight of them made him think back to that one he ate during the challenge and his stomach growled. It was going to be a little while to dinner, he thought, and surely it wouldn't hurt if he just ate one. Lee went in and bought a doughnut, glazed and sticky. As he walked he took a bite and was reminded again of the heavenly rush of sugar. He almost moaned in delight. He finished the doughnut before he got home and threw the wrapper in a rubbish bin, wiping his mouth clean so Bob wouldn't find out he'd been letting his diet slip a little. Letting it slip was a bit of an exaggeration, he thought. One doughnut was a treat, that's all.

Lee managed to hold back his desire the next time he passed the bakery, trying to keep his mind resolute against his hunger. He wasn't going to slide down the slippery slope of unfitness. But just the thought of that, of being unfit and fat and lazy, left him kind of excited. He knew, however, that it was just a fantasy; he could never live like that.