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bbman30 · 10 days

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Sugar Daddy

University was really fucking expensive, Noah had quickly realised. Between paying for his halls, food and all the surprising little costs of living away from home, his student grant was rapidly dwindling, and he was starting to worry about making it last until reading week, nevermind the next payment after Christmas - he'd gotten a bar job, but even with that it was hard to make ends meet. Parents, teachers, older friends had all warned him not to spend all of his money going out, but chance would be a fine thing.

"Daddy told me that he's literally not going to give me any more money!" Noah's flatmate Cissy wailed at Becca and Will, two of his somewhat more financially fortunate new living mates. "He said that three hundred a week should be enough, but I told him that he just doesn't understand what it's like to budget!" Noah bit his tongue and focussed on buttering his toast while keeping an eye on his pan of baked beans.

Becca nodded sympathetically. "They just absolutely do not understand what it's like to be working class students like us," she told Cissy sagely.

"Does this mean you can't buy us coke tonight?" Will asked, the concern clear in his voice.

This only made Cissy cry harder. "I'm not thinking about fucking coke right now Will!" she cried. "I don't even know if I can afford brunch tomorrow!"

"I could probably try and get some ket?" Will suggested.

"You know I can't have ketamine Will!!" Cissy yelled. "I'm a fucking aquarius! Obviously I don't react well to ket!" She buried her face in her hands and wept. Noah poured his beans onto his toast and gathered his cutlery. He considered topping his meal with some cheese, but decided it was too much of a luxury right now.

"Besides," Becca said as Noah began to take his meager dinner to his room. "Ketamine reminds me too much of my horse Diana, so I'll be far too sad to do any."

The door closed as Cissy comforted Becca about the dear departed Diana. Noah let out a sigh. He wished he had a "daddy" who would "only" give him £300 a week. He laughed as he sat down at his desk and looked for a show to watch on his laptop. He'd remembered earlier that week when some of his mates were saying they'd have to look for sugar mummies and daddies to make it through the term. He'd joined in laughing at the time, but the prospect was starting to look less and less absurd as the term went on and his finances dwindled.

He paused, wondering. He knew sugar daddies existed of course, but he couldn't quite convince himself that there really were older men out there just waiting to give someone money.

After a while, his curiosity got the better of him and he pulled out his phone. How to get a sugar daddy he typed in. He was surprised how many websites and apps there were. Surely the idea wasn't really this popular? He clicked on a couple of links; they all seemed to cater for older men looking for young women. He tapped his search bar again and added gay to his search. The first result was an app called The Sugar Bowl, advertising itself as the UK's premier gay sugar dating app. He downloaded it. He had to entertain himself somehow, he supposed, while all his flatmates were out getting drunk and high - a luxury he just couldn't afford.

The app was asking him to make a profile. He quickly tapped in all his details, chose a username and clicked next, giving short, vague answers for any that needed more than basic information. Photos next; he scrolled through his phone looking for some good recent photos. He appraised himself as he scrolled - he was a bit of a catch, if he did say so himself. Just over six feet with naturally broad shoulders, with a handsome face and a strong, square jaw. The vivid ginger hair on his head was mirrored on his chest and trailing down his stomach, a shock of orange against his pale, freckled skin.

He finished his profile and was immediately shown a man who was at least eighty. A bubble of text at the bottom of his screen informed him he could "Ask for a taste" or "Carry on looking at the menu", and only the men he selected would be able to message him. Noah rolled his eyes and tapped the cross. The man's profile whisked itself away and was replaced with another.

Now this was more like it - mid-40s maybe, salt and pepper hair, bit of a gut but Noah didn't mind that necessarily. His fingers moved to tap the tick before he noticed the short blurb of text below the photos: Discrete! Married with children, but would love to add you to the family. Noah cringed and rejected him.

The next one wasn't too bad. Bald, a nice square face, pictures showing him dressed in sharp suits in what looked like various cities across the world, and, to Noah's surprise, a screenshot of what looked like a banking app, all of the details removed apart from the dizzyingly large balance. Noah tapped, accepting him. Nothing happened - presumably he'd have to wait for a match or for the man to be notified before he'd get a response.

He spent a couple of hours idly swiping through profiles. It was almost like a game, really. He was surprised to find how handsome he found some of the men; he'd never really considered himself attracted to older guys before but there was something about some of them. He particularly appreciated some of the dad bods on show - always something he'd liked before on guys his own age, and there were plenty on offer here.

He snapped out of his app-induced reverie as he heard his flat mates leave for the night, stampeding towards the door. He closed the app and decided to watch a movie for the night as he heard Cissy loudly proclaim to everyone "You know what? Fuck it. I'm buying coke. Daddy can fuck off. I have to be true to myself and I know that I am not a ketamine queen!" This was met with one of the poshest cheers Noah had ever heard.

The app left Noah's mind entirely as he watched his film and then fell asleep. He woke up to a notification.

SilverFoxDom: Hello handsome. You know, my hair used to be that exact same shade, before succumbing to the ravages of time.

He looked at the name and sighed. He must not have looked very close last night.

RedFox: Nice. Listen, I'm sorry, I must not have really read your name last night. I'm not really into the whole sub/dom thing.

He closed the app and checked the news, reading through a few stories. Within a few minutes, another notification popped up.

SilverFoxDom: Neither am I. My actual name's Dominic, or Dom. I didn't really consider the implications until I'd made the profile, and now I can't figure out how to change it.

Noah smiled a little. At least this guy seemed sweet, and hadn't immediately asked for nudes - an improvement on more conventional dating apps, in fact. He went back to the app to check his profile. The guy was okay-looking, Noah thought; probably mid-50s, with a head of receding white hair and a beard to match, and warm, crinkled eyes surrounded by laughter-lines on a rugged, square face. Noah could see faded freckles across his nose and cheeks, the only remaining evidence of the ginger hair in his youth that he'd mentioned. A bit of a dad-bod, with a thickness evident beneath the expensive looking suits he wore in each photo, but Noah had met up with bigger guys before.

RedFox: Sorry to hear that, not-a-dom Dom. I bet that's led to a few sticky situations.

SilverFoxDom: Oh no, no sticky business over here! I'm very content to offer what aid I can to fellow foxes in need without it going any further. I've got to say little fox, you're looking more underfed than most. A particularly cruel winter, perhaps?

RedFox: Yeah, I've always found it pretty difficult to put on weight, especially living on beans on toast at uni, haha.

SilverFoxDom: Something I can help with, perhaps? Well then, young fox, what brings you to this rather niche corner of the internet?

Noah decided to be honest. This guy seemed genuinely nice.

RedFox: Some mates were joking about needing a sugar daddy to get through the term. I thought it'd be a bit of a laugh, but I was sort of curious what it's all about.

SilverFoxDom: Well I heard it's only cats that need to be wary of curiosity; us foxes should be fine.

How about you let me take you out for a meal a little more elaborate beans on toast? At least then you'll have gotten something out of this whole experience.

RedFox: That's very kind. Honestly though, I really did just make an account out of curiosity. I don't think I'm into this whole sugar daddy/baby thing.

SilverFoxDom: And I am also being honest when I say there is no obligation or hint towards anything other than a good meal and some company for an hour or two. I can guarantee a finer meal than anything else you'll rustle up during your time at university.

Noah's stomach grumbled. It would be good to have a proper meal, and really, it was no more dangerous than meeting someone off grindr or tinder.

RedFox: Sounds great then, thank you. When were you thinking?

They arranged to meet that evening at half past six, a little early Noah thought, but he wasn't about to argue. He put on his nicest shirt and his cleanest jeans, and walked into the center of town to a restaurant he'd never heard of.

Noah walked up the stairs to the large entrance, with a small sign next to it with the name of the restaurant - Pastures Green - and was met by a thick-set man in a three-piece suit. "Hi," Noah said as he approached. "I'm meeting someone - Dominic?"

"Of course sir, welcome," the man said. "I've been told to ask you for your favourite animal."

Noah was taken aback, feeling like he was back in primary school and being asked about his favourite shape (hexagon) or dinosaur (triceratops). "My favourite animal? What the- Oh! Right, no, I see. A fox. My favourite animal's a fox."

The man smiled and his eyes flicked to Noah's hair for a moment. "It suits you. This way then." He turned on his heel and walked through a thick wooden door. Noah followed into a large, expensive looking room. The room seemed underfilled, with only ten or so tables, and plenty of space between them all. Noah was led between them all, to a table at the back, wth Dominic sat in one seat.

Dominic stood up as Noah approached. In person, he had a warm energy that seemed to enhance all his features, and made him look quite handsome, if you could get over the age thing. He looked a couple of inches shorter than Noah, maybe at about 6 foot, and a few pounds lighter than in his photos, though still with a broad frame and a slight gut rounding out his waistcoat. Noah didn't know much about suits, but he could tell the one Dominic wore was expensive - light grey with barely-there pinstripes, and seemingly tailored to perfectly highlight or hide different parts of his body.

Dominic moved towards Noah and stuck his hand out for Noah to shake. "Gosh, but you really are handsome aren't you, little fox?" he said with a twinkle in his eye. He gestured for Noah to sit. "Now, this is very foolish of me, but I don't actually know your name."

"Noah," Noah answered as he took his seat.

"Noah!" Dominic almost bellowed. "A good strong name." He sat down opposite and handed a menu to Noah. "But you didn't come to introduce yourself to old men Noah. I believe you were promised a slap-up meal."

Noah opened the menu and noted that there weren't any prices. A note at the top assured customers that all the food was grown and produced locally. "A, uhh, a steak maybe," he said, deciding it wasn't too far removed from his usual safety option of burger and chips.

"Good choice," Dominic said with a smile. "But we'll get to that in good time. What about something to start?" he asked. "Or I could choose a few things I think you should taste?"

Noah put the menu down and gave a small smile. "Sounds great."

"Excellent!" Dominic said, as a waiter seemed to appear out of thin air. "Now Michael," he said to the waiter. "We'll start with some drinks,-" he turned to Noah. "A beer?" Noah nodded. "Two beers, I'll try something new. Something Belgian maybe? Now my friend here," he gestured towards Noah, "has never had the pleasure, so I really think he should sample as much of your fare as is reasonable, don't you? We'll start with a few small-plates - those lamb ribs you did last time, definitely, that pork belly with the fennel, do you remember? Yes, yes, those. Some of those crispy twelve-hour potatoes, that wonderful asparagus you do. I think I remember some artichoke concoction a few weeks ago? Perfect. And what fish do you have today? Yes, a small serving of that." His eyes flicked back to Noah and seemed to appraise him for a moment. "Perhaps that'll be it for starters this time Michael. And then my young friend here wanted the twenty-ounce rib-eye, and I'll have, hmmm…" For the first time he actually opened the menu himself and looked, although only for a second or two. "A salad, I think. Whatever chef thinks will work." He patted his slight belly and looked over at Noah briefly. "Doctor's orders," he said with a wink. "I'm afraid I can't overindulge like I once could."

Noah swallowed hard - it definitely sounded like he'd be overindulging, even if Dominic wasn't.

"The steak, sir?" the waiter - Michael - asked Noah.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's great," Noah replied.

Michael smiled thinly. "How would you like the steak cooked?" he elaborated.

"Oh! Right, yeah, well." Noah stammered for a moment. He'd never had a proper, high-quality steak before, what did he know about how.it should be cooked. "Medium-rare?" He said it as a question as much as an answer.

"Excellent," Michael said. "Your drinks will be out presently." He turned on his heel and walked away.

Dominic turned to Noah and beamed. "So, little fox, why don't you tell me about yourself," he said. "You mentioned you were at university?"

Noah nodded. "First year, studying engineering," he replied, as Michael reappeared with two glasses.

"Thank you Michael," Dominic said. "First year, eh? Very exciting, first time away from home, discovering independence for the first time. Exhilarating really." He took a small sip of his beer and closed his eyes. "Mhm, perfect. Do take a taste." Noah did as instructed. The beer was odd - it was almost thick, and tasted strongly like wheat, with just a hint of sweetness. He smiled and nodded, wordlessly answering Dominic's inquisitive look. "I'm glad you like it," Dominic continued. "And engineering? Very impressive. I was never one for science and maths and all that myself. It was PPE at Oxford for me." Noah just smiled and took another swig of beer - the taste was starting to grow on him. "Not much of a talker, eh?" Dominic prompted.

Noah swallowed yet another swig of beer. "Sorry, no, it's not that I - it's just -" He decided it was best to play coy a little, play up to the guy offering a slap up dinner and who knows what else. "Just nervous, I guess."

"Oh fox, no need to be nervous," Dominic said with a growing smile. "In fact, I remember when I was your age and met up with a man, who, ah, shall we say, had a little more life-experience than me…"

Noah realised that what Dominic really wanted was someone to talk at, rather than any real expectation for Noah to contribute outside of an occasional reply. He was fine with that, happy to sit and drink his beer and give a nod or encouraging "hmm" when prompted. By the time the starters arrived, his beer was nearly empty and he was already beginning to feel the effects, having not been able to afford to drink for a while, and having not eaten much that day.

Noah's eyes went wide as the starters got put down. When Dominic had ordered, he'd expected morsel-sized portions, and while the servings weren't enormous, the six dishes added up to a lot more than Noah would usually eat in any given meal, and this was just the starter!

Dominic must have seen Noah's reaction. "Don't worry too much about finishing it all, little fox. I might take a sliver to taste, and I suppose the kitchen can dispose of any leftovers," he said.

"No, no, I can, I mean, it's fine," Noah said. "I can finish it, it's not too much." Not only could Noah not stand to waste food, particularly nowadays when he was living within such meager means, but he got the sense that Dominic was testing him somehow, seeing how willing he was to play along.

"Another beer sir?" the waiter asked, gesturing towards Noah's glass.

"Oh, uh, yeah, cheers, umm, Michael," Noah replied, picking up his fork to start.

"Certainly," Michael replied simply and walked away.

As Dominic looked on eagerly, Noah took his first bite, starting with the lamb ribs. As the meat reached his tongue he actually moaned - he couldn't stop himself. It was almost certainly the best food he'd ever had, and it made him realise suddenly just how hungry he was.

"Good?" Dominic asked simply, his eyebrows raising in a smug expression.

Noah could only give a short "hmm", as the second mouthful of lamb was already in his mouth. It was perfectly cooked - tender and juicy and seemed to be roasted with rosemary and something Noah couldn't identify. He cut off some pork belly, even as he was still chewing, and brought it up to his mouth the second he swallowed his lamb. It was just as good, and Noah closed his eyes as he chewed, trying his best to slow down to savour the taste.

Dominic let out a small chuckle. "Very good," he said. "I do hate to see a young man without a healthy appetite. Yes, very nice indeed." He paused for a moment, watching as Noah chased a mouthful of potato with some beer. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the thing people don't understand about John Major you see…"

Noah did his best to pay attention, but Dominic’s tales of Tories past weren't exactly Noah's bag, and they had to vie for his attention with the exquisite flavours in front of him. He built up a rhythm, alternating dishes with each bite, dipping the potatoes in all of the various sauces and juices from the other plates. He did his best to eat slowly but he just couldn't help himself. He was almost surprised when he looked down to see all of the plates were empty.

“... Which is why, of course, Thatcher's right-to-buy scheme was so beneficial,” Dominic finished. His smile grew as he saw Noah lean back in his seat, his breathing slow. “Oh, well done. Yes, very good indeed. You know, a lesser man would have given up on that, but not you, no.” Noah rubbed his stomach in wide slow circles. “Now, time for mains perhaps?”

Noah belched, the sound erupting out of him without warning. “Oh god,” he said. “I'm sorry I-”

“No apology needed! None at all, no, no, it's the sign of a good meal well-enjoyed,” Dominic said as his smile grew. “You know, when I was part of the trade delegation to China, I was told that burping was a sign of respect! Now, the steak?”

Noah nodded blearily. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I'll give it a go.” He downed the rest of his beer, hoping the liquid might help soothe his stomach.

“That's all that any of us can do, isn't it?” Dominic proclaimed wisely. He waved down the waiter. “We’re ready now. And my guest here will have another beer.”

The steak arrived all too soon, looking even bigger than it had sounded earlier. Noah steeled himself, knowing that this was the best meal he'd had in a long time, and might have for a while yet. Dominic spoke constantly, picking at his own salad while

After Noah had finished the selection of desserts Dominic had ordered, he was drunk, stuffed and tired. Dominic helped him to his feet and guided him to a waiting car, which took Noah directly to his uni halls. Noah unbuckled his too tight trousers and collapsed straight into bed.

He awoke the next morning to Cissy knocking on his door and passing over a large hamper that had been left for him. He looked inside to find a selection of expensive cheese, crackers, desserts and several ales. Looking closer he found a note.

Little Fox,

I so enjoyed our evening last night. I've included some small treats that I think you might enjoy until the next time we meet.

Your Silver Fox

This went on for a while. Two or three times a week, Dominic would invite Noah to some restaurant he'd never be able to afford to go to by himself, order an inordinate amount of food, plus a salad for himself, then watch as Noah stuffed himself silly. The next morning, a hamper would get delivered to Noah's flat, each time with something different in it - expensive cheeses, cured meats, selections from Dominic's current favourite bakery or deli, each delivery coming with several bottles of stout or ale that Dominic thought would pair with the food - Noah's room rapidly filled with more wicker baskets than he could handle. One time, Noah had off-handedly mentioned how much he liked ice-cream, and the next morning a delivery man handed over a miniature freezer for his room, stocked full of Ben and Jerry's. Each time, he considered sharing with his flat mates, but each time he'd sample one of the exquisite treats and immediately change his mind. Dominic, for his part, never suggested anything more - he really did seem to just genuinely want to help out a struggling uni student. Noah knew he'd have some ulterior motive, but as sexual deviances went, this one felt fairly benign and Noah wasn't about to turn down a few free meals a week.

As the end of the semester rolled around, Noah pulled a Christmas jumper out of one of the hampers that he'd repurposed as a clothes basket, and noted with a wince a developing tightness as he put it on. The jumper still fit, thankfully, but he worried about Dominic losing interest - Noah was quickly losing his thin figure that first attracted the older man.

Noah looked in the mirror and assessed himself. He wasn't fat, per se, not even chubby really. A bit more solid looking, that's all. He looked better, if anything; not quite so rail thin, or like a strong wind would blow him over.

Noah sighed. Tonight was the first time Dominic had invited him around to his own house, and he was a little nervous. Noah felt he knew Dominic well enough by now to trust that nothing untoward would happen, but it felt like a big step up in their strange friendship.

Noah smoothed down his jumper, laying his hands flat against his midsection. He was being silly - Dominic probably wouldn't even be able to notice anything.

"I've noticed you've been putting on some weight," Dominic said that evening, taking a sip of wine and smiling across the table.

Noah took a moment to swallow the mashed potatoes he'd just put in his mouth - perfectly creamy, and with a hint of rosemary and garlic - and looked down at himself. As stuffed as he was, his shirt had begun to get noticeably tighter. "I uh…," he started, trying to form words. "I suppose I've put on a little weight, yeah. I was pretty skinny before though - too skinny, some people think." He'd started talking faster, trying to convince Dominic it wasn't so bad. He hit upon the idea to appeal to Dominic's ego. "And uh, it's all this great food - I'm so grateful, you've been so generous."

Dominic's smile widened a touch and he laughed softly. "You've no need to worry, my little fox. Merely a comment." He drank some more wine and seemed to look Noah up and down. "It looks good on you, you know. You really were too thin when I met you - quite ghastly really, like a wraith. No, you look much healthier now." He set his wine glass down and leant back in his chair, one eyebrow raised. Noah got the distinct impression that he was trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. "I don't suppose you know how, ah, much weight exactly you've put on?"

Noah shrugged. "Not too much, my clothes all still fit, just about. And I've not got a scale at my flat."

Dominic stood up suddenly. "Well then we'll have to find out, won't we?"

"Will we?" Noah asked around a mouthful of turkey and gravy.

"Aren't you curious?" Dominic asked, moving around the table to usher Noah out of his seat. "We're having this little tete-a-tete about these rather charming, wonderful little changes to your body, and you don't want to know?" For the first time since Noah had met him, Dominic seemed to have a strange nervous energy about him, as if he'd rehearsed this moment. Dominic gave a short laugh. "And you the engineer! I thought your head would be full of numbers and precise measurements."

Noah decided to play along - whatever was happening, it wasn't worth losing out on his meal ticket. He pulled himself heavily out of his chair, his full stomach making him sluggish. Dominic left the room and Noah followed.

After climbing several flights of stairs and walking down a couple of corridors, Dominic stopped outside a door. "Sorry for the hike," he said with a smile. "This is the only bathroom with scales in." Noah wondered if Dominic had put the scales in there (or more likely had someone put them in there for him), so that he could show off the house to Noah - he remembered some quiet comment Dominic had made about this being "just the city house".

Dominic opened the door and ushered Noah in, flourishing an arm towards a set of scales. "Do you, ah, know what you weighed when you first arrived at university?" he asked.

Noah shrugged. "Probably about twelve stone, I think," he answered. That sounded about right, anyway.

Dominic tutted. "See? Far too thin. Shall we, ah, call that 170 pounds then, do you think?"

"Sure," Noah said. "Call it what you like I suppose."

"Call it what you- oh yes, very dry, very dry indeed little fox," Dominic chuckled. "Yes, well, ah, would you, that is to say, if you'd care to, ah…"

Noah was surprised to see Dominic so ill-at-ease. He always seemed so unflappable, and now he was a stammering mess about asking Noah to step on some scales. Noah did the honours, and looked down at the numbers on the scale. They rapidly climbed for a moment before stopping at 193.

"Oh my," Dominic said. "Well I suppose if we take off your- that is, if we account for your clothes, and what you've eaten tonight of course." He reached out and touched Noah's slightly distended stomach through his jumper. Noah felt a jolt - it was the first time Dominic had touched him at all, aside from shaking hands, and it felt like there'd just been some significant change in their relationship from that brief touch. "Shall we say one-ninety?"

"If you like, sure," Noah said, stepping back off the scale. He was starting to doubt whether these free meals were really worth it.

Dominic took out his phone and started tapping it. "Twenty pounds in, what, two months?" he muttered, seemingly to himself more than to Noah. "Very impressive, very impressive indeed."

Noah's own phone buzzed as Dominic put his away. Noah looked confused and reached into his pocket to pull it out. His eyes widened. A notification from his bank informed him that £2000 had just been added to his account by D. Berkeley. Noah looked up at Dominic, dumbfounded. "What?" Noah asked. "Why?"

Dominic smiled coolly, all of his nervous energy suddenly dissipated. "One hundred pounds for each pound you've put on," he said calmly. He seemed back to his usual self, like he'd just taken back control of the conversation. "Something of a mea culpa, if you'd like. After all, this," he once again reached out a poked Noah's slightly softer middle, "is rather my fault."

"Well, I mean, you don't need to-" Noah began.

"And I do actually rather like it, if I'm being honest, little fox," Dominic interrupted. "Which is to say, I rather think that young men such as yourself do look rather more handsome with some weight about their person."

"Right," Noah said. "Okay then, well, thank you, I guess. I'll, umm, put it towards a gym membership."

"Oh, well if you'd like to lose it, I do of course understand,” Dominic said. “I could even pay for a private trainer if you’d like? As it is my fault.” He paused for a moment and seemed to be analysing Noah's body, looking it up and down. Noah felt like some sort of prey animal. “But then again, I really do think it suits you, you know. I could even, if you were amenable, continue these little apologies? Same rate of course, one thousand sterling for every ten pounds - best exchange rate you’ll get while the current government is in power.” He laughed at his own joke before looking expectantly at Noah waiting for his answer.

Noah stood still for a while, the only sound in the room that of the other shoe finally dropping. He'd known, of course, that there was no such thing as a free lunch, but he'd rather hoped his payment would have been keeping an agreeable older man company during those lunches. Clearly, Dominic was taking payment by pound of flesh.

Was the money worth it? Noah was in the prime of his life - he should be taking advantage of his young, fit body, not wasting it for a few measly quid. But then, a thousand pounds wasn't something to scoff at, and he could make a fair amount more, not to mention all the food he didn't have to worry about buying. Maybe he should just get back on the app and find some other old rich guy who just wanted something simpler, like a blow job or feet pics. But then, did Noah really care? He'd been attracted to plenty of other big guys, he'd just not ever thought of himself that way. He wasn't even really a big guy himself yet, he could easily ring this guy for another few grand and bounce before it was really noticeavle, and then he could lose any excess weight easily enough.

Dominic cleared his throat, snapping Noah out of his rambling train of thought. “I'll, uhh, think about it,” Noah said. “Over Christmas.”

“Of course!” Dominic boomed, clapping a hand around Noah's shoulders and guiding him back out into the corridor. “You think about it while you're back home, and message me with your thoughts on my offer. For now though, I hope you have some space for dessert and the cheese board.”

A few hours later Noah swayed towards the front door, Dominic's hand on his back guiding him. The sheer amount of food and drink Noah had consumed was making him bleary-eyed, and he'd had to undo his belt sometime during the cheese course.

“Noah, one final thing,” Dominic said, as Noah stumbled his way outside towards the waiting car. He held out an envelope towards Noah. “It's a card.”

“I forgot to get you a Christmas card,” Noah said around burps.

Dominic laughed. “No, no, a credit card,” he explained. He pushed it into Noah's hand. “I’ll pay it off each month, of course, but it is yours.” Noah burped in response, which Dominic seemed to take as understanding. “I'd appreciate it if you only used it for food and drink - I don't mind how much you spend, you understand, but I would appreciate it nonetheless. Respect, more than anything, you see.”

Noah looked at the envelope for a while before looking up at Dominic and smiling. “Merry Christmas,” he mumbled before he belched and collapsed through the open car door.

It was the card that tipped it, for Noah. He decided he could live without the free extravagant dinners, even the offered grand for each ten pounds didn't seem that worth it in the cold light of day, but that credit card seemed to fix all of his money worries overnight. Trips to the supermarket weren't spent agonising over how much he had left or whether he could afford the tin of tomatoes that cost 15p more, he could treat himself, go out with mates on nights out. He still couldn't get over the look on his mum's face when he offered to pay for everything for Christmas dinner, or when she opened the present he'd bought her with some of the two grand Dominic had given him. So he was probably going to put on a bit of weight, who cared? He got back in contact with Dominic once he was back in halls, and their dinners recommenced, Noah's personal discomfort with the situation ebbing away all the time, even while the physical discomfort of his clothes mounted.

"Why aren't you eating more?" Dominic asked.

Noah swallowed his mouthful on noodles and looked down at the plates in front of him. He'd almost finished his bowl of donburi, and there was a small stack of small plates next to it which until recently had held a selection of dumplings and sushi.

“Well, uh, I thought maybe we'd have dessert, I guess,” he said, placing a hand gingerly on his bloated belly. “Or, I mean, if you wanted me to order some more sides?” He'd gotten used to pushing himself past his limits recently, focussing on the money he knew Dominic would be happy to part with, but that didn't make it any easier.

“Not tonight,” Dominic said, smiling. “No, you've rather impressed me tonight. The card I gave you, I mean. I'd expected a young man like you, away from home and enjoying all the pleasures of university life had to offer to be living off of take-aways and beers.”

Noah furrowed his brow. “I mean, I've been using it, you know, for shops and stuff,” he explained. “I didn't want to take the piss I guess.”

“You've no need to worry my dear little fox!” Dominic said. “It would take quite a lot of eating indeed to make me regret my decision. No, no, you've no need to be concerned about your impact on my finances. You should be enjoying yourself - dinners out, big lunches, deliveroos.” He said this last word as if it was an unfamiliar foreign term he was impressed with himself for learning while on holiday.

“Right, yeah, I'll keep that in mind I guess,” Noah said, before bringing the bowl up to his mouth to drain the last of the broth. “Thanks again,” he said. He placed both hands on his stomach and began to massage it, as much to soothe it as much as to put in a bit of a show for Dominic.

Dominic licked his lips. “You know, I had rather noticed that your, ah, wardrobe perhaps needed an update,” he said. “Perhaps it wouldn't go amiss if you were to use the card for clothes as well, when needed. I'd only ask that you let me know ahead of time, when you, ah, well, when you outgrow your clothes, I suppose.”

Noah nodded and ran a hand along the hem of his t-shirt to feel the strip of skin that had started showing beneath it in the last week or so. “Thanks, that’ll be helpful. These jeans are killing me.” He made a show of unbuttoning them and sighing with relief. “Sorry, hope you don't mind.” Dominic shook his head while making some posh clucking noises.

“Why don't you weigh yourself tonight?” Dominic asked. “With that scale I sent. You could send me a picture and I could send some money, if needed.”

“Sounds great,” Noah said, leaning back. “Don't suppose you could get the waiter's attention could you? See if they could bring over the dessert menu?”

That night, Noah sent Dominic a picture of the scale reading 202, and smiled as a notification appeared in his banking app less than a minute later.

Fancy going interrailing this summer? Just me and you? Mum’s given me some money for “self betterment and actualisation”, thought I'd go get pissed in Prague.

Noah's heart sank as he read the message. Just last week he'd spent most of the money he'd saved up from Dominic on a used car. He loved it, but now wished he'd held off a little longer. Him and his mate Stuart from school had talked about going interrailing for years; Noah had always thought of it as little more than a pipe dream, but suddenly it felt like it was all too attainable, if only Stu had text a week earlier.

Noah was about to text back, telling Stu he was skint, when he paused. No reason he couldn't save up a bit more money - he'd have until the summer to put on some more weight, and get as much money as he could from Dominic. Okay, so 220 pounds was bigger than he ever imagined getting, and having a genuine belly bloating out the front of large t-shirts, even when he'd not eaten, was something of a surprise, but he was hardly that big yet, he could afford to put on another twenty pounds before it was that bad, couldn't he? Besides, Stu was always the “fat friend” at school; he'd hardly judge Noah, and might even get a kick out of seeing him the same size as him.

I'd have to sort a bit of money, but count me in! August will be better than July maybe - gives me a bit of time to bank some extra pounds.

Noah chuckled at his own small joke as he grabbed the iPad Dominic had sent him a few weeks before, ready for some research. He started off simple, typing How much does it cost to go interrailing into Google and searching through some sites. He started to worry a little about how much it might cost and increased his imagine future body by another ten pounds or so. Would 30 pounds put him bigger than Stu? It was a strange prospect, but he found himself getting hard. As much as they'd all taken the piss out of Stu, he'd always commanded a bit of respect because of his size - he was the big one, the one who always got mistaken for being a bit older, the one who could eat the most and would probably win in most fights. The idea that Noah could usurp Stu in that way excited him.

How to gain weight fast he typed into the search bar. If he wanted to enjoy himself, he'd need to earn as much money as he could before summer.

A couple of mornings later, Noah pulled a carton out of one of the crates he’d ordered. He cracked it open and took a sip. This Boost stuff wasn't too bad, he thought. It was sweet and creamy, but not as thick as he thought, and he was surprised by how small it was considering the number of calories in it. He downed the rest of it in a few large gulps.

He’d read that some people had gotten incredible results from just one or two a day, so he thought one after every meal would do the trick nicely. Then, he'd finish the day with a pint or two of ice cream from the freezer that Dominic made sure to keep stocked. All of that, on top of his newly formed habit of getting every meal delivered - McDonald’s breakfast in the morning, a burger or burrito for lunch, and then a different take away each night for dinner - would surely help him make the money he needed for Europe.

While he was researching all of this, he'd been surprised to discover the communities of men who seemed to get off on this kind of stuff. He’d thought Dominic was some kind of one-off, the result of whatever crazy repression results from being gay and posh, but it seemed like these gainer guys were fairly common. He took some perverse pleasure in realising he was already bigger than some of the men who'd been trying to put on weight. He did his best to ignore men around 250 pounds, knowing he'd be that size soon enough, if everything went to plan - surely he'd not look that big? Obviously these guys would try and make themselves look as big as possible in their photos. No, he'd be fine, he told himself, just a little more weight would be barely noticeable.

“Do you think we could stop off somewhere and get something to eat?” Noah asked, his stomach rumbling. It was the first time Dominic had taken Noah for a weekend away, and he was regretting not remembering to bring some cartons of Boost.

“Well, we have dinner reservations in a couple of hours. Did the restaurant not look to your liking?” Dominic asked.

“No, it's fine, I'm not saying instead of dinner, I just mean, I haven't eaten since lunch, I'm not used to starving myself like this,” Noah replied. He was starting to get a little grouchy.

“Starving your- ah, yes well, perhaps we could find somewhere nearby, a cafe or bistro perhaps.” Dominic began to look around the row of shops along the beachfront.

“It's fine,” Noah said, crossing the road already. “I'll just grab something and eat while we walk. There's a place there look, I'll just grab a couple of burritos.”

Noah ate his first burrito in silence, only occasionally pausing to nod or give an approving grunt to one of Dominic's long stories. It was only when he started pulling the foil off the second burrito that Dominic asked for more of Noah's attention.

“You know, I do rather like this beard you've grown, little fox,” he started. “But I do wonder if it’s purpose might be to hide a certain developing feature? A certain roundness of the jawline perhaps.”

Noah felt his cheeks flush red. He had indeed grown the beard to distract from the double chin that had developed recently. The last twenty pounds seemed to take him from “slightly chubby” to “fat” in a way he wasn't expecting. With each step his round gut shook inside his XL shirt, which hugged a pair of budding moobs. He even realised that weekend with some shock that he was quite a bit bigger than Dominic now, so while he knew that the beard wasn't doing much to hide his weight gain, he'd hoped it wouldn't be too obvious why he'd grown it.

“Umm, yeah, I mean, some other guys in halls have grown a beard too, you know, and I thought I'd give it a go too, but, well, yeah, I guess it's to kind of cover the chin as well,” he admitted.

Dominic clapped a hand on Noah's shoulder. “While I really do think it's handsome, I always think it's such a shame when handsome growing men such as yourself try to hide the fullness of their face,” he said. “You should be proud of it! Have you not worked hard for your changing face? Earned it? Perhaps you'll shave it for me tonight? Show me what's underneath?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I guess I can, I mean, it's just, I didn't pack a razor or anything,” Noah said, hoping Dominic would drop the matter.

“That's no concern! We can buy one for you, no matter at all. Look, there's a pharmacy there, I'll go in while you finish your little snack,” Dominic instructed.

Noah sighed and took a big bite of his burrito as he leant against the window of the pharmacy. He patted his gut and felt it jiggle. Just a little more weight and he'd have enough to go to Europe with Stu, and then he could block Dominic's number and lose all this weight.

That night, Noah's beardless face showed off just how round his cheeks were getting as he stuffed food into them. At Dominic's suggestion, Noah left himself with a moustache, which he was finding quite sexy. Dominic had ordered the entire starter list for Noah, followed by a roast dinner and a burger for mains, and a selection of desserts, while he ate a small serving of monkfish. Noah wiped his moustache with his napkin and leant back, resting a hand on his gut. “I don't suppose anywhere will be open, do you think?” he asked Dominic. “I usually like to have some ice cream before bed.”

Dominic clinked his wine glass with Noah’s. “Here's to a grand tour around Europe, and to two-hundred and seventy pounds,” he said.

Noah smiled and continued eating his fifth dessert of the night, thinking idly that he shouldn't have let the waiter take away the dessert menu just yet. While he'd overshot his target weight a little, the five thousand pounds he'd accrued would make sure that he wouldn't have to worry about scrimping and saving while interrailing, and he'd hopefully have some money left over afterwards for a gym membership, hell, maybe even a personal trainer. If nothing else, Noah thought ruefully as he adjusted his belt, he'd need to buy yet another new wardrobe, if he gained anymore weight.

“I've been thinking,” Dominic said. “I know that gallivanting about like this can be rather tough on the old purse strings, especially when one is young and wants to experience as much as possible of all these wonderful places you'll be going.”

Noah nodded, his cheeks full of tiramisu. “Yeah, you know, you've been a massive help with money and stuff, I definitely think I'll have a great time,” he said, truthfully. While he still found their arrangement a little creepy, Dominic seemed like a genuinely sweet guy, Tory proclivities and fetish for fattening up men aside, and Noah knew he'd have had a much worse year without him.

“Of course, of course, no need to thank me, anyone else would have done the same, faced with a young person in need such as yourself” Dominic said. Noah's eyebrows flew up; this situation fell very firmly under the category of things most people would not do, but he knew better than to protest. “Well, I was rather thinking, as this is such a marvelous opportunity for experiencing new places, meeting new people, learning languages, and of course, trying new food,” he waggled his eyebrows at this last point. “Well, I thought, as your patron, as it were, it would be remiss to not fund the trip.”

“Sorry, I'm not sure I follow,” Noah said, as he started on a rich sticky toffee pudding. “You are funding it - I wouldn't be able to go without you.”

“But I want you to keep that money! No, I want to pay for your trip,” Dominic said. “All of it. You and your friend. You can put everything on the card I gave you, the food and drink of course, as per usual, but the hotels, the trains, the flights, all of it. Anything you've paid for already, send it over to my office, I'll have my man expense it for you.”

Noah's gawped. Here he was, approaching twenty stone, one hundred pounds heavier than when he’d first arrived at uni, and Dominic was telling him all that money he'd saved was for nothing?

“Well, that's very generous Dom,” Noah said slowly, ruefully spooning some custard into his mouth.

“Think nothing of it, little fox! You know, when we first met, I must admit, I had rather hoped you might put on a little weight,” he understated. “But I really have been so impressed with how you've taken to it! Yes, I'm more than happy to pay for a man such as yourself who’s so readily taken up my little challenge.”

There it was, of course. The other side of the coin. Noah the twelve stone twink would never have been offered an all expenses trip around Europe. A catch-22: Noah had only saved enough to afford to go interrailing because he'd gotten so fat, and because he'd gotten so fat, he needn't have saved any money at all.

“Fucking hell!” Stu said as Noah walked up to him in St Pancras station. Dominic had arranged for a car to take him right up to the front, so Noah wasn’t nearly as sweaty as he would have been if he'd had to drag his backpack through the tube. “Louis said you'd gotten fat when he saw you at Easter but he didn't say you had tits! And what's with the porn-stache?”

“Nice to see you too,” Noah said. “Why weren't you back for Easter, anyway?”

“Fuck off, don't try and change the fucking subject,” Stu insisted. “You’re bigger than me!”

Noah had to admit that. He was surprised how small Stu looked - he’d always been one of the biggest guys in the year at school, but now he just looked a bit husky and had a beer belly. “Yeah, but you've lost weight, haven't you?” Noah pointed out.

“I've put on weight mate!” Stu laughed. “But I've put on about a stone like everyone else at uni, not about ten.”

Noah was shocked, and found himself getting hard. Not only had he surpassed Stu like he thought he might, he'd absolutely eclipsed him. “Go on, how much do you weigh then, Mr Skinny?” Noah asked, wondering how much he outweighed him by.

“Like seventeen stone mate,” Stu replied. “You must be, what, twenty? More?”

“Like two-seventy pounds. Probably a bit more now,” he admitted, thinking that he'd not exactly slowed down his eating in the week since he'd last seen Dominic.

“What? What's that in stone?” Stu asked. “Who weighs themselves in pounds?”

“Oh, right, yeah, like, nineteen and a half, maybe,” Dominic said.

“Christ,” Stu said in a low voice reaching out and poking a finger into Noah's gut. “That's fucking huge mate. You were tiny at school.”

“Well, you know, I'm taller than you, so that's a bit of weight isn't it,” Noah pointed out.

Stu laughed. “And the rest! You’re like an inch taller than me, two at most. That hardly adds up to two extra stone, does it?”

“Fuck off,” Noah said, returning Stu’s gut poke with one of his own. “Is there anywhere to buy breakfast around here before we get on the train?”

“Yeah, but you've already eaten haven't you?” Stu said.

“What? What makes you think that?” Noah asked.

Stu laughed. “I saw you throw a McDonalds coffee cup in the bin when you came in, big guy. A bloke your size doesn't go to McDonalds for just a coffee, do you?”

“Oh, yeah, well you know, that wasn't really breakfast, that was just something to eat after I woke up,” Noah protested, thinking back to the two mcmuffins he'd eaten on the way.

“Also known as fucking breakfast,” Stu howled with laughter.

“I'm just thinking we’ll be on the train a while,” Noah said, his cheeks flushing red. “And then we’ve got to get to the hotel, we might not have lunch until late.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it's a very thoughtfully considered second fucking breakfast,” Stu said while shaking his head. “Come on, yeah, I could eat too. We don't want you dying of hunger, do we, you fat git.”

Sat on the train, Noah regretted not getting as much as he'd like, but Stu had started gawping at him as he'd ordered, and he thought it best to limit himself to a light breakfast today, while Stu got his head around Noah's enhanced size.

“So I've been meaning to say,” Noah started. “I've swapped some of our hostel reservations.”

“What? Why?” Stu asked.

“For nicer hotels,” Noah said. “Don't worry, it's all paid for.”

“What do you mean it's all paid for?” Stu asked. “How are you affording to pay extra for hotels? I thought we agreed the cheapest hostels we could find?”

“It's fine,” Noah reiterated. “It's sorted.”

“Yeah, but I'm asking how,” Stu said. “Go on, you can't just show up suddenly fat and rich and expect me not to ask anything. Did you win some kind of million pound eating contest or what?"

“Haha, very funny,” Noah said, rolling his eyes. “It's just, there's this, well there's this guy, alright, and he's said he's happy to pay for us both. Sees it as some enriching experience for us.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘some guy’?” Stu asked, eyes boggling. “I'd have been less confused if you had said it was the eating contest, to be honest.”

Noah tried to look as nonchalant as possible as he fidgeted in his seat. “It's just this guy I know who's happy to give me some money as, you know, charity or a patronage or whatever, for young people to, I don't know, enrich themselves or whatever.”

Stu narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean a charit- wait, patronage?” He leant forward. “Do you have a fucking sugar daddy?” he whispered harshly.

Noah looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Look, he's not a sugar daddy, alright? He's just this older guy who pays for some stuff for me,” he said, cringing at his own words as he said them.

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Stu pointed out.

“No!” Noah insisted. “He's just this older guy who wants a bit of company sometimes.”

“Like a sugar daddy.”

“Shut up. We don't, you know, we've never fucked or anything,” Noah said. “He's not interested in any of that. It's just conversation.”

“Conversation he pays you for,” Stu said. “Go on then, where did you meet this not-at-all-a-sugar-daddy?”

Noah flushed red. “An app,” he mumbled after a while.

Stu laughed. “And what was this app called exactly?”

Noah sighed. “Okay, it was a fucking sugar daddy app, okay? I've got a sugar daddy.”

Stu cackled. “I fucking knew it!” he yelled, receiving glares in response. “It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?” He shook his head, laughing to himself.

“Yeah, well, you're getting a free holiday out of it, aren't you?” Noah said, slumping down in his seat and pulling some snacks out of his bag.

The two began to eat their way across Europe. Two nights in Paris first, with wine and cheese and bread and fine restaurants. Then Geneva - the original plan was to just spend a few hours there, being too expensive for two poor travelling students, but Dominic's card opened the city and it's restaurants up to them; they booked a hotel for a few of nights of luxury, before moving on to Interlaken.

Noah's gut shook as he pulled his t-shirt off at the side of the lake. Stu whistled and shook his head. Noah laughed and slapped his gut for show; after Stu’s initial shock, he'd gotten used to Noah's larger frame, and the two had settled into an easy rhythm of teasing.

Noah waded into the shallows of the lake and lay back so that he floated with his gut and moobs sticking out of the water in front of him. He closed his eyes, paddled for a moment or two into some clear water further from the shore and lay floating in the sun.

After a while, he heard some splashing and cracked an eye open to see Stu swimming over to him. He allowed himself to sink slightly so that he was treading water and Stu did the same. It was the first time Noah had been swimming since he'd started putting on weight, and he was astonished by how alien it felt. He was so much more buoyant than previously, his fat rising up around him. Each time he moved, he felt the same heaviness and resistance he'd gotten used to on land magnified, his heavier body moving slowly through the water. Noah was happy for the cover of the water and his overhanging gut; the sensations were causing him to get hard in his swimming shorts.

“I think it's time we really need to talk about this mate,” Stu said, gesturing at Noah.

Noah looked down, not seeing anything amiss. “Talk about what?” he asked.

Stu leant forward and poked Noah's gut under the water. “This! Bloody hell, talk about the elephant in the room.”

Noah shrugged. “We've talked about it,” he said.

“Yeah, we've joked about it” Stu agreed. “But we've hardly, I mean, we've not properly talked about it, have we?”

“What's there to talk about?” Noah asked, feigning ignorance. Obviously he knew that Stu would eventually want to ask questions about his shocking weight gain, but it was just so much easier to make jokes about it.

Stu sighed and allowed himself to fall back. Noah noticed that his own small beer belly rose out of the water like Noah's did, though not nearly to the same extent. Noah appreciated the lack of eye-contact the position granted. “Are you alright?” Stu asked. “Like, really alright? Nothing’s wrong?”

Noah floated on his back too, mirroring Stu's position. “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Really. It's just, being at uni, beer weight and stuff.”

Stu laughed. “No mate. This” he slapped his gut for emphasis, “is beer weight.” He leant over and slapped Noah's much larger gut. “This is a fucking eating disorder.” He was quiet for a while. “It's not, is it? An eating disorder? Or you're not depressed or ill or something?”

“Definitely not depressed or ill,” Noah reassured Stu. He was quiet for a while though. Did he have an eating disorder? He didn't feel like he could control it anymore, that was for sure. “I don't think it's an eating disorder either,” he said after a while. “Like I know I'm not eating normal amounts but…” He paused, gathering courage. “I'm enjoying it, I guess? Eating whatever I like, not worrying about what it's doing to my waistline.”

Stu nodded. “Good,” he said after a while. “Good,” he repeated. The two floated quietly for a while. “Has it got something to do with your sugar daddy?” he asked after a few minutes.

“I don't have a-”

“Yeah, yeah, we've done this bit already,” Stu interrupted Noah. “Whatever, has it got something to do with your older gentleman friend who takes you out to nice restaurants and pays for you to go on holiday and gives you money and who you met on a sugar daddy website but who is not a sugar daddy, somehow?”

Noah huffed. “Why do you ask that?” he asked eventually.

“Because no offense,” Stu replied. “But you're hardly sugar baby material these days, are you?”

“Oi!”

“Look, I'm not saying I am either!” Stu protested. “I'm just saying that the Noah that went off to uni was a little more conventionally sugar baby material, and the one that I'm interrailing with is a bit more high-blood-sugar baby.”

“You've been saving that one up, haven't you?” Noah said.

“Thought of it the other day,” Stu said, the pride evident in his voice. “But it is, isn't it? Your sugar daddy likes you with a bit more padding.”

Noah sighed. No point denying it, really. “Yes,” he admitted. “We started going out for these massive dinners and he'd send me treats and pay for all my food shops and then after a while, Dom told me that-”

“Fuck off!” Stu yelled, twisted to tread water again and face Noah. “You do not call your sugar daddy ‘Dom’!”

“That's his actual name you twat,” Noah said, moving to tread water as well. “Anyway, Dom- Dominic eventually said that he liked that I'd put on some weight and…”

“And what?” Stu said, filling the gap Noah had left. “He started paying you to get fat?” Noah held his breath. “Oh my god, he's paying you to get fat, isn't he?”

Noah clenched his teeth. “It's not… It's not prostitution or anything,” he said. “He pays for food and takes me for dinner, I've put on some weight because I'm eating well, he likes me bigger. It’s- I mean it's separate things, you know? He's not giving me money to get fat, he's giving me money because I am fat.”

Stu laughed. “You can fucking say that again,” he said. “Alright, alright, you're not the heftiest whore in Halifax, fine, whatever you say.”

“I've never been to Halifax,” Noah pointed out.

“Alliteration, innit?” Stu said. “Go on then, how much does he pay you?” Stu asked quietly, moving toward Noah a little, seemingly forgetting how loud their conversation was just moments prior.

Noah shifted uncomfortably. “Hundred pounds for every pound, or well, we usually do a grand for ten,” he said.

Stu almost sank under the water in shock, and came back up coughing. “Fuck off! A grand for ten pounds?” He realised how loud he was being and looked around at the people swimming away from them towards the shore. “Go on then, how much have you earned?” he asked, much quieter.

Noah sighed. “Ten grand,” he said.

Stu’s eyes went wide. “Ten gra- that's, No, mate, I mean, that's a hundred pounds,” he whispered. “What's that in stone?”

Noah tilted his head back and winced. “Seven or so,” he said. He looked up at Stu. “I wanted to pay for the trip, you know, but I spent some of it on a car, and then a bit into savings, and then,” he floated back and sighed. “Fuck me, last time I saw him, he said he'd pay for everything. That he didn't want me spending the money I'd saved up.”

Stu almost sank beneath the surface again as he laughed. “So you've put on, and I'm going to slow down for this bit, you've put on one hundred actual pounds to earn ten grand to not spend around Europe?”

“Well, see,” Noah said, placing a hand thoughtfully on the ledge of his gut. “No. Well, yes. But no. If I hadn't put on a hundred pounds, he wouldn't have offered to pay. One way or another, I needed to get fat to go interrailing.”

Stu’s eyes went wide. “Fuck,” he said. “You're right, you know.” He reached his hands out and placed them on Noah's gut. Noah’s cock twitched beneath his gut at the touch, and he hoped Stu hadn't noticed. “I reckon you didn't actually need ten grand either way though.”

Noah sighed and closed his eyes. “I know, I know,” he agreed. “I can't control my appetite anymore. After I bought the car I kind of thought I could just do with two or three grand, but then…” He motioned down at himself.

“One hundred pounds later,” Stu finished for him. They were both quiet for a while, until Stu laughed to himself. “Here, I don't reckon he'd pay me to putting on weight as well, do you?”

“Fuck off,” Noah said, laughing. When Stu didn't respond, just carrying on looking questioningly, Noah continued. “You're not serious?” he asked. “You'd want to get fat for a few grand.”

Stu shrugged. “Why not? You've done it and you were a shrimp at school. I'd blow you out of the water.”

Noah laughed. “Oh you would, would you?”

Stu nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. “And yeah, why not? I could put on some weight. I can barely keep it off anyway, especially the way you've been making me fucking eat on this trip, might as well make some cash while I do it.”

“The way I've been making you eat? You were planning on doing weight watchers before, were you?” Noah asked. “Anyway, you're too skinny for him,” he said. “And you're not even gay anyway!”

Stu laughed. “Well not being gay doesn't matter if there's no funny business, right?” Noah grumbled at having gotten caught out. “Alright, alright big guy,” he said, raising his hands up. “I won't steal your sugar daddy.” He laughed again.

After Interlaken, the two of them went north to Germany, first to Munich, which they experienced by slowly wandering from beer hall to beer hall all day, taking in history and culture largely incidentally to the beer, sausages and bread they consumed. Then north again to Berlin, where Noah was disheartened to find Stu had actually planned non-eating based activities for the two of them.

“Fuck me, but it's good to get off my feet,” Noah said as he shuffled into a booth at a restaurant on their first evening. He was surprised at the way the table of the booth bumped into the crest of his gut. “I’m starved,” he told Stu, who shook his head.

“You've been eating all day,” Stu pointed out.

“Hardly!” Noah protested. “Okay, so we had lunch-”

“Two lunches,” Stu pointed out.

“Then we went to that currywurst stall, and that's it,” Noah said.

“We went to three currywurst stalls.”

“Whatever,” Noah said, finding himself growing irritable as his stomach growled at him. “That was hours ago. And besides, I've been on my feet all day!”

Stu laughed. “So have I!”

“Yeah well you're not…” Noah grumbled quietly.

“Go on,” Stu said as a grin spread across his face. “I'm not what?”

“Not as bloody fat as me, are you?” Noah said, blushing. The two hadn't talked again about Noah's weight since Interlaken, even to joke about it. Noah got the impression that Stu was waiting for him to bring it up.

Stu laughed. “He finally admits it!”

“Well I can hardly bloody hide it at this point, can I?” Noah snapped. Despite having talked about it, Noah still couldn't help feeling embarrassed about how far he'd let himself go. “Look, sorry, I'm just hangry,” he apologised. He passed a menu over to Stu. “Let’s order, yeah?”

“Don't worry about it mate,” Stu said. “I've been on the receiving end of fat jokes for years, it's nice that someone else can take over for once.” He looked at the menu for a while. “I'll probably just go for a burger. Fancy a starter?”

“Yeah, I'll probably do the same,” he said absentmindedly. “Couple of starters, couple of burgers, couple of sides.”

“Fucking hell mate,” Stu laughed.

“What?”

“I don't even think you know how much you're eating these days, do you?” Stu asked. “I said I might get a starter and a burger, you mentally double it and add extras. And I bet you'll want a döner on the way back."

Noah blushed. “Yeah, alright, I get it,” he mumbled. “I should start cutting back.”

“No, I don't mean…” Stu considered for a moment. “Maybe I could have a second burger too, you know? You're right, we have been walking about all day.”

Noah raised an eyebrow and smiled to himself. He'd noticed Stu doing this a lot - pushing himself beyond what he initially wanted to eat, trying to match Noah bite for bite. Each time Noah suggested they stop for street food, or grab a quick dessert or even extra meal, Stu would protest, and then quietly acquiesce. He never managed to keep up with Noah of course, but he made a valiant effort nonetheless. Noah was starting to wonder if Stu felt threatened - he'd been the big guy for years, and now previously skinny Noah was running rings around him. Metaphorically of course - Noah struggled to run anywhere these days.

“No, no,” Noah teased. “If you can't manage it, just order the one.”

Stu bristled. “I can manage two easy,” he insisted. “I think you're right about a couple of sides as well, those onion rings look good. If you want to just get one, you go ahead.”

Noah shrugged. “Maybe I should just order one,” he agreed. “After all, I'll end up having to eat your second one for you anyway.”

Stu’s mouth dropped open, before he hurriedly hailed a waiter and proceeded to order double what he wanted.

After Berlin, Prague and its cheap beer, roast meat and heavy dumplings. Noah discovered a love for a dessert of a tower of pastry filled with cream, which he would eat non-stop between beers and snacks.

Then east, on an overnight train to Warsaw, where the two men had to convince two Spaniards to allow them to sleep on the bottom bunk - Noah in particular was concerned that the berth might not take his girth. Poland brought more heavy food and more beer. South, after Warsaw, to Krakow for a few days, and then continuing on, through Slovakia to Hungary, and Budapest.

“You need bigger clothes mate,” Noah told Stu, poking the sliver of fat hanging out the bottom of his t-shirt as they left the train.

“Says you!” Stu retorted, grabbing Noah's much larger wedge of fat at the bottom of his t-shirt. “And you broke that button in Warsaw.”

“Yeah, well, this is the biggest I have right now,” Noah said. “You could at least start wearing my clothes.”

Stu patted his gut and sighed. “You think it's that bad?” he asked.

“Oh fuck off,” Noah said, elbowing Stu in his side.

“I'm serious!” Stu said. “I'm not the size you were when we left are you?”

Noah looked him up and down. “Probably not far off mate,” he told him. “Catching me up.”

Stu laughed and slapped Noah's gut. “I think I'm still a while off that, don't you worry. You've not exactly been losing weight either, have you.”

“I suppose you're right,” Noah said, caressing the soft fat spilling out the bottom of his t-shirt, and doing his best to ignore his hardening and confusing erection.

“I kind of get it, though,” Stu said, as the two crammed into the back seat of a taxi.

“Get what?” Noah said, his mouth full of a chocolate bar.

“I kind of get why you like it,” Stu clarified. “Being fat.”

“Fuck off,” Noah blustered. “I don't- what do you- I don't like being fat.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Stu appeased him. “I get why you like eating so much then, and not giving a shit about the consequences.” Neither said anything for a few moments. “It feels kind of manly though, doesn't it?”

Noah looked over and then quickly looked away again to pretend he hadn't seen Stu's hard-on in his too tight trousers. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Really manly. And soft. To touch I mean. It feels good.”

“Yeah,” Stu said, growing quiet. “It’s nice. How soft it is.”

“Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, you know,” Noah said. “To gain-”

At that moment the taxi arrived at their hotel, and the driver thrust a card reader in their faces. Noah dutifully tapped Dominic's card and the two collected their suitcases.

Noah lay in his pants on the bed of their hotel room while Stu had a shower.

“They've got a scale,” Stu called through the bathroom door.

“A what?”

“A scale,” Stu repeated, sticking his head through the door. “You know, for weighing yourself.”

Noah clambered off the bed, doing his best not to show how excited he was. “Go on then,” he told Stu. “You first, what's the damage.”

Stu stood with a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping down his body hair, around the curve of his gut. He nudged the scale with a toe to turn it on then, swallowed nervously and then stepped on.

“It's in kilograms,” he said. “I don't really…”

“What does it say?” Noah asked, grabbing his phone.

“One hundred and twenty.”

Noah typed the number into Google and showed Stu the result. “Two hundred and sixty five pounds,” he told him. “A little under nineteen stone.”

“Fuck me,” Stu said. “That's almost two stone since we left.” Noah once again did his best to act like he didn't notice the growing bulge of Stu’s erection. “Go on,” he told Noah. “You next.”

Noah stood on the scales and sucked in his gut to see the numbers.

“What does it say?” Stu asked.

“Just give me a moment,” Noah said, typing the conversion into Google. “I'm just… oh fuck me.”

“What? How much is it?”

“Three hundred and thirteen,” Noah said. “I weigh three hundred and thirteen pounds.” He lifted his gut and let go, watching as it bounced and rippled. “I've put on forty pounds.” He did his best to stop his own growing hard-on.

Stu gave a low whistle. “No wonder none of your clothes are fitting.” He reached out and ran a hand over Noah's belly, before raising his hand to his chest and lightly lifting a moob. “And we've still got a while before we go back. It uh…” He swallowed hard. “It looks good on you though mate. Like we were saying in the taxi, you know. Manly.”

Noah nodded. “You too,” he said. He reached a hand out and placed it on Stu’s own gut.

Stu abruptly walked away, back into the room, and started hurriedly getting changed.

“You alright mate?” Noah asked, confused about the sudden change in demeanor.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” Stu said, determinedly facing away from Noah. Noah saw him adjust crotch.

“No reason,” Noah said. He reached down to pin his own cock underneath his overhang, hiding it as best he could.

“Right then,” Stu said, pulling on some of Noah's trousers and a t-shirt. “Let's go buy you some new clothes then.”

Stu remained frosty for most of Budapest, but slowly thawed as they prepared to leave for Zagreb. Noah filled the awkward silences with eating. After a few days in Zagreb, by the end of which Stu was as cheery as ever and acting like the incident in the bathroom had never happened, they ventured further south, to their final stop in Split.

Noah laughed as he tried and failed to pull on his swimming shorts. They were skin tight on his thighs, and he could just about force them to cover his cock, but his arse hung out the back and his pubes and plush fat pad spilled out the top. “We forgot to buy me new trunks when I bought new clothes!” he called through the connecting door between his and Stu’s rooms. “Oh, I look fucking ridiculous, I don't give a shit, I'm coming to show you. Prepare for some not-quite full frontal!” The two had seen each other naked before, and had grown accustomed to each others growing bodies after sharing hotel rooms for weeks, particularly as they outgrew their clothes, so he knew Stu wouldn't mind. “Here, I bet you'll need to borrow mine will you?”

He waddled through the door, still laughing, but abruptly stopped when he saw Stu.

“Yeah, yeah, I reckon I will have to borrow yours,” Stu said, seemingly in a daze. Rather than squeezing himself into too his small trunks, he held them in one hand while he stood naked facing Noah. His cock stood proud beneath the fold of his gut.

“Stu, I… are you okay?” Noah asked

“Look what you've done to me mate,” Stu said, shaking his gut, making his cock follow suit.

“I'm not sure what you…”

“I know I used to be chubby,” Stu said. He squeezed his gut and massaged it. “I know I put on some weight at uni. But fuck me Noah. Why did we have to eat so much?”

“Why don't we get you a dressing gown mate, yeah?” Noah said, walking into the room tentatively.

“I'm not gay,” Stu said, stopping his groping of his gut.

“Yeah,” Noah said. “I know mate. I know you're not gay. Here's some shorts look, let's get them on, yeah?” He was starting to worry that Stu might be having some kind of breakdown.

Stu reached out and grabbed Noah's gut, slipping a thumb into his deep belly button. “It just feels so good doesn't it?” he said. “Manly. Like we said.”

“Stu, what are you-”

Stu leaned in and kissed Noah on the lips. Noah hesitated for moment before leaning into it. Stu hooked his fingers around the waistband of Noah's swim shorts and pulled them down.

“I'm not gay,” Stu whispered. “Just two blokes, appreciating what it feels like to be fat, yeah?”

“Stu, I don't think that-” Noah said.

“Oh, shut the fuck up fatty,” Stu said and pushed him down onto the bed, before climbing up onto his gut.

Twenty minutes later, the two lay panting and covered in cum.

“Its sweatier, when you're fat,” Stu panted.

“Like everything else you mean?” Noah replied.

“Noah mate,” Stu said.

“Yeah mate?”

“I think I might be a bit gay mate,” Stu said.

“You might be a bit gay mate, yeah,” Noah agreed.

Three weeks later, Noah stood in Dominic's bathroom on some weighing scales.

“Three hundred and twenty-two!” Dominic beamed. “Europe was kind to you, little fox. I'll get the five thousand sent over now.”

“Twenty-two…” Noah stuttered. “I was only three-thirteen in Budapest.” He looked down at the slope of his gut. No matter his and Stu’s newfound appreciate for their figures, this was all going a bit too far.

“Well, your gain is my loss, eh, little fox?” Dominic said. “You know, I was following your bank transactions while you were away. I saw how much you were spending on food, but I really never hoped that you might have grown quite so handsomely.” He clapped a hand on Noah's rounded shoulders and led him back to the dining room. “Fifty pounds since I last saw you! Tell me, how does it feel?”

Noah sat gingerly down in his seat. “It feels, well, you know. Heavy I guess.”

Dominic’s smile wavered. “And you are enjoying it, aren't you?”

Noah looked up. “I mean. It's all a lot. I’m like, what twenty three stone now? That's… that's a lot.”

“But you were saying,” Dominic said. “How manly it felt? How your friend also put on weight? How it brought you closer together?”

Noah nodded slowly. “I just think maybe it's all a bit much. I kind of thought I'd slow down after Europe. Stu has, I bet,” he said.

“Well, we can talk about that after dinner, can't we?” Dominic said nervously. “I've asked chef to make all of your favourites.”

Noah dutifully ate everything that was put in front of him, but he felt a pit growing in his stomach even as it filled to bursting. When he was with Stu, eating was fun, they joked, they laughed, they shared in the experience. This was… different. Dominic barely ate at all, just watched Noah as he pushed obscene amounts of food into his gut. Dominic spoke, but it was all one-way, like Noah was in a lecture or a particularly dry stand-up routine.

As Noah prepared to leave, stuffed beyond reason and his walk reduced to a waddle, he turned to Dominic.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said. “And for everything. I just…” He paused for a moment to belch and gather his thoughts. “I don't think I should carry on meeting you, for a little bit.”

Dominic’s face fell. “Is something the matter?” he said. “Did I say something wrong perhaps during dinner? Maybe if you could tell me I'll be able to explain, add some context.”

Noah shook his head. “It wasn't tonight,” he said. “It's everything. I really… I don't think I should put on any more weight. Thank you, but I think I've got enough money right now.”

“Oh, if that's all!” Dominic said, forcing a smile onto his face. “No need to put on any weight, eh? You can take a little break. No reason we can't keep on meeting, eh little fox? And if you happen to put on a little more weight, well then, I could send you some more money, eh? Maybe we could increase our rate a little?”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Noah said. He slid a hand into his tight pocket and pulled his wallet out. “Here,” he said, passing Dominic his card back. “You should have this.”

Dominic pushed the card back towards him. “By no means!” he said. His eyes were a little panicked. “You keep that, don't you worry. Its just a little thing, I really don’t notice it. Yes, you keep that and carry on using it.” He put the card back in Noah's wallet for him. “No need to still meet if you don't want to, but you keep the card. Don't you worry about a thing.”

Noah shrugged and slipped his wallet back into his pocket. “Fine,” he said. No use arguing. As he left he vowed not to put on any more weight.

“You've put on weight!” Stu said gleefully as he pulled Noah's shirt off and threw it on his bed. It was the first time Noah had managed to visit his boyfriend since the start of their second years of uni, and he'd dragged Noah up to his bedroom as soon as he'd arrived.

“That noticeable, is it?” he sighed.

“Oh absolutely,” he said, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking. He looked up after a while when he noticed Noah wasn't reciprocating his enthusiasm. “You're not still upset about it, are you? I told you how much I'm loving the new bigger Noah.”

Noah flopped down on the bed, wincing at the loud creaks and groans that issued forth. “It's just all a bit fast still,” he said. Stu sidled up the bed and lay next to Noah. “I just can't stop eating at all, you know? Like I've tried to cut back but I still just put on more and more weight.”

“Do you know how much you’re weighing at the moment?” Stu asked, trying to sound sympathetic but doing nothing to hide his excitement.

Noah shook his head. “My scales only go up to three hundred,” he explained. “I had to buy all new clothes last week though.”

“Did you put it all on Dom’s card?” Stu asked.

Noah nodded and sighed. “I should get rid of it, shouldn't I? As long as I've got it, I'm going to keep using it to buy stupid amounts of food.”

“Come on, don't be silly. It's free money Noah. Literal free money,” Stu reasoned. “Look, in a few months Dom will either get the message that you're not going to see him again and cancel the card, or if he's as rich as you reckon he is, he’ll never notice the money and just completely forget while he moves on to fattening up the next sexy young thing.”

“You think so?” Noah asked.

“I know so,” Stu said. “Come on, let's order an Indian and make your sugar daddy pay for it. I'm practically wasting away over here having to pay for my own food.” He slapped his own gut, still the same size as when the two came back from Europe.

Noah looked back at the message from Dominic again.

Merry Christmas. It would be good to see you again for a drink. I'd like to give you a present.

Noah knew he shouldn't, but he didn't like the thought of taking the old man for a ride. He was still using his card and his guilt was mounting. Maybe, Noah reasoned, if he saw Dominic this one last time, he could draw a line under this whole thing.

He entered the pub and looked around, finding Dominic quickly.

“Little fox!” Dominic cried as Noah lumbered up to his table. Noah could smell the whiskey on Dominic's breath as he pulled him in for a hug. Noah pulled away and sat down.

“Well well well little fox,” Dominic slurred. “Not so little anymore, eh?”

“Not been little for a while now Dom,” Noah said. His shirt, one of the biggest he owned, pulled tight around his gut, the buttons straining around his belly button.

“No, I don't suppose you have, have you?” Dominic smiled for a moment. “A drink! You'll be wanting a drink. I'll go and…” He left the sentence hanging in the air as he stumbled away from his table and towards the bar.

He returned ten minutes later with a pint of Guinness, a glass of whiskey and several packets of crisps. Noah put his phone away.

“I don't really drink Guinness Dom,” Noah said.

“Nonsense!” Dominic cried. “Big boy like you, must love a Guinness! I know that I-” He was interrupted by a loud hiccup that made him lose his train of thought.

Despite Dominic being drunk, Noah thought, it wasn't all too different from any other time they'd met up. Noah plowed his way through an endless train of packets of crisps and pints of Guinness while Dominic told him rambling stories about the glory days of the Tory party. The only difference was that Dominic’s stories were occasionally cut short by him losing his train of thought, and Noah didn't feel the need to pretend to be listening, instead spending much of the evening texting Stu.

Eventually, Noah decided that he'd put in his time, and he was fine to leave. He stood up, pulling his coat around him.

“Little fox!” Dominic cried, almost spilling his current glass of whiskey. “You're not leaving are you, my little fox?”

“It's been nice catching up Dom,” Noah said gruffly. “I should go.”

“I haven't given you your present yet though!” Dominic mumbled, rummaging through his jacket pockets until he pulled out a box.

Noah gritted his teeth. Did he really want one more thing to be in this man's debt over? Still, no use throwing away what was bound to be an expensive gift.

He took the box, opened it, and gasped. Inside lay a vintage Rolex.

“1974. Certified of course,” Dominic said with a lopsided smile. “I got them to add a couple of links to the chain for you, but other than that, all original and in pristine condition.”

Noah gawped for a few moments. He didn't know much about watches, but he knew enough to know the one in front of him would have cost tens of thousands of pounds.

“This is very generous Dom,” he said slowly. “I didn't get you anything I'm afraid.”

Dominic waved his whiskey glass. “No need! No need! I'm very happy to support a young man blossoming into adulthood.” He took a drink and leered over his glass. “How much are you weighing these days, little fox, eh? At least a little more than the last time I saw you.”

Noah's grip tightened on the box in his hand. “I'm not sure,” he said. “I haven't weighed myself since I last saw you.”

Dominic stood up unsteadily and began to pull on his coat. “Well my house isn't far, little fox. Why don't you come back and weigh yourself, hmm?”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea Dom,” Noah said. “I should get going.”

“Oh, what's the harm?” Dominic slurred. “You could make, what? Two, three thousand pounds? All you'd need to do is come back for five minutes and stand on some scales.” Dominic leant forward. “Why don't we increase our rate, eh? Ten thousand for ten pounds? I won't notice it little fox, you might as well take it from me.”

Noah hesitated before giving a small nod. He wasn't about to throw away tens of thousands of pounds over some pride.

Dominic's house wasn't far, but between Noah's slow, heavy gait and Dominic's drunken swaying, it was ten minutes before Noah was stood in Dominic's bathroom. His coat was still on, at his own insistence. He would come in, weigh himself, and then leave. Dom swept his arm towards the scales like a magician, and Noah stepped on. He leant forward, trying to see past his gut. Dom grinned, leant forward and then giggled.

“Three hundred and fifty-six pounds, little fox,” he told Noah. “Not too shabby, eh?”

Noah stepped back. Despite himself, he grew hard. He thought about how Stu would react when he told him.

“Right then,” Noah said gruffly. “What's that then? Thirty grand?”

“I am a man of my word,” Dominic said. He clumsily pressed a few buttons on his phone and Noah felt his own phone buzz. He didn't bother checking it.

“Right, I'll be off then,” Noah said. He tried to do up his coat, before remembering how far the buttons were from meeting.

“Not quite yet,” Dominic said. Noah sighed.

“What is it n-” Noah was cut off as Dominic leant forward and kissed him on the lips. Noah pulled away but Dominic followed him, stepping forward with him, gripping onto Noah's coat and trying to stick his tongue into Noah's mouth.

Noah pushed Dominic away as hard as he could, and he fell to the floor. Noah turned away and barrelled down the stairs as some servants appeared, rushing to Dominic. Noah didn't bother closing the door as he left.

I'd like to apologise for my behaviour before Christmas. the text read. I know I don't deserve it, but perhaps one final meeting? Somewhere public, with no alcohol involved.

Noah sat waiting in the cafe, a hot chocolate with cream and two slices of cake in front of him. He tapped his foot impatiently.

“Noah, I’m glad you came.”

Noah looked up to see Dominic. He didn't say anything, just nodded to the seat across from him.

“I only came to give you this back. I don't want it anymore,” Noah said, passing Dominic's card across the table. “You can have everything else back as well, if you like.”

“They're yours,” Dominic said. “All of them. Given without any intention other than as a gift.” Noah scoffed. Dominic looked at the bank card in front of him for a moment, as if considering refusing it. After a while he picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. “I owe you an explanation.”

“No explanation necessary,” Noah said, taking a large bite of cake. “You've got a fat fetish and too much money, and you found the one person stupid enough to go along with it.*

Dominic sighed. “I suppose that's true, in a way.” He took out his phone and showed Noah a photo. “This is me, when I was your age.”

The man in the photo looked eerily similar to Noah before he'd met Dominic. Tall, skinny, ginger, even the face shape looked the same. Noah looked up at Dominic, seeing the same nose, same mouth, same eyes as the photo in front of him.

“When I saw you on that app,” Dominic began. “It was like looking into a time capsule. I thought, well, I had to message you. And then we met, and it was like revisiting my youth and…” Dominic sighed wistfully. “Your appetite. Even then, it was astonishing. And, well I…”

He swiped on his phone to show another photo. This time it was more obviously the Dominic that Noah had come to know; he was in his forties, perhaps, with his hair not quite as receded and showing flashes of red mixed in with the grey. The main difference was that the Dominic in the photo was enormously fat - perhaps even fatter than Noah was now, he thought.

“That was me six years ago,” Dominic explained. “I had a heart attack a little after that photo. The doctors said I needed to lose weight or I'd have another and another until...” He sighed and leant back to show his body with its small beer belly. “So I lost all of it. Most of it, at least. All of that weight I'd put on, gone. You know how good it feels Noah, don't you?”

Noah paused, then nodded. “It does feel amazing.”

“Well, I thought I could live through you a little. Get you to put on some weight, incentivise it for you, help you along, gain vicariously through you,” Dom explained. “Well, you took to it better than I was expecting. I thought I could add a beer belly to your frame, relive my younger years. I really did never think you'd get so big. I'm sorry.”

“I… I don't mind it," Noah admitted. “Being big. So big. I like it even. And it wasn't all you. You weren't the one feeding me boosts and getting me McDonald's breakfasts every morning. And at some point, even I knew I could stop, and I just… didn't.”

“Regardless,” Dominic said. “You've now reached almost exactly the weight I was when I had my heart attack. And, oh my dear boy, at such a young age.” His eyes were sad. “I said a long time ago that I'd pay to help you lose weight, if you wanted it. That offer still stands. Nutritionists, personal trainers, anything.”

Noah shook his head. “I don't think my boyfriend would forgive me,” he joked.

Dominic smiled for a moment. “I'm always surprised by how common my strange little predilection for the larger gentleman really is.” He looked down at his hands. “I should apologise for my behaviour as well.”

Noah tensed. “You were drunk, it's…”

“No, not for… well yes, for that night certainly,” Dominic said. “But for all the other nights as well. I’m rather afraid I never really cared about you. Not really. I treated you like a toy. Something I could play with and pay for and control. I never listened to you, I never took an interest in your life. I just fed you and talked at you.”

Noah shrugged. “I mean, yeah.”

“I'm sorry,” Dominic said. “And, yes, for that night in December. I acted abominably. There's no excuse.” He stood up. “That's all I wanted to say.” He put his coat on. “I’ve been to the bank and asked them to transfer three point five million pounds into your account.”

Noah choked on a mouthful of cake. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Three point five million,” Dominic said. “One final payment. Ten thousand pounds for each pound of your body.”

“I don't understand,” Noah said slowly.

“Like I said, I pushed all of this too far. You're the size I was when I could go no further and… I wanted to give you an amount that is actually fitting for that accomplishment, not those piddling amounts I was giving before,” Dominic said. “I also wanted you to not rely on me anymore. I appreciate that you needed my money, and I don't want you or I in that position anymore. It's not fair.”

“But… millions,” Noah exclaimed. “That's too much, I can't.”

“I still don't think you understand how wealthy I am,” Dominic said. “I won't notice a few million pounds. At all. It's a drop in the ocean. Take it, it's yours.” He sighed. “This way, you'll never feel like you might need to meet up with me again, and I'll not feel like I can have power over you. Goodbye Noah.”

“Goodbye Dominic.”

Noah took some pride in the way that the restaurant’s floorboards creaked slightly and other patrons’ glasses shook as he passed, and he noticed that most people turned to look at him. He could hardly blame them of course; while he’d stopped weighing himself religiously, he knew he was somewhere north of 450 pounds a few months ago and as such was the largest person in the room - in most rooms, usually - by quite some margin.

“We have some tables over here,” the waiter paused to look Noah up and down. “That you might find more suitable.”

Noah grinned. Nowadays “suitable” was usually a more polite way of saying “less likely to be crushed into splinters underneath you, fatty”. Sure enough, the chairs the waiter pulled away from the table looked like a different design to the others around the restaurant.

Stu sank into the chair opposite him. “I came here with some clients the other day, I didn't get brought over to the fat boy chairs,” he grumbled.

Noah patted his gut and smiled. “Well, what are you weighing at these days? Three hundred and twenty?"

“Three hundred and thirty, actually,” Stu corrected him.

“There you are then!” Noah said. “Put on another hundred-something pounds and maybe people will start giving you some respect.”

“I'm not sure it's respect they're giving you,” Stu said with a wink. “And no thank you, I'm very content watching you blow up to gigantic proportions.”

“Oh I know you are,” Noah said smugly. He leant in and lowered his voice. “Maybe this evening I can give you a special viewing of-”

Stu cut him off with a cough as the waiter arrived.

“Are you ready to order gentlemen?”

“Some champagne to drink,” Noah replied. “The best you have.”

“Ah, celebrating, sirs?” the waiter asked.

Noah and Stu smiled at each other. Their company had just made its first ten million, and Noah thought it was fitting that they celebrated at the restaurant he'd first met Dominic at; while he'd not spoken to him since he'd received that lump sum that had allowed him to start his business, he was still grateful for everything that he'd made possible.

“You could say so,” Noah replied to the waiter. “I don't think we’re sure about mains yet, but to start we’ll, let's see…”

He opened the menu and started listing anything and everything that caught his eye. He ordered enough for a table of ten without even thinking twice.

“I see,” the waiter said once Noah had stopped listing food. “Would you like that all brought out at the same time?”

“Stagger it a bit, if you could,” Stu said. “Give us a chance to get through it.” He looked at the menu briefly. “And then for mains,” he paused to smile as the waiter’s eyebrows flew up, “I'll have the full rack of ribs.”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Noah said. “I'll have the same.”

“Very good sirs,” the waiter said.

As the third round of plates got taken away, a familiar voice called over.

“Noah? Is that you?”

Noah looked up to see Dominic and another man being sat at the next table. Dominic looked the same as ever; a few more wrinkles perhaps, a little slimmer. His dining partner was older than Noah would have expected, the same age as Dominic, maybe a little younger. Noah wasn't surprised by the man's size, which looked to be somewhere in between Stu and Noah.

“Dom!” Noah said, smiling. “What a coincidence!”

“Dom?” Stu whispered. “As in high-blood-sugar daddy Dom?” Despite Stu’s lowered tone, Dominic clearly heard as he frowned at him after.

“Ah, yes, well. Noah, this is my fiancé Eric,” he said, gesturing to his companion. “Eric, this is Noah. We used to… well. This is the young man I was telling you about that I used to have a, uhh, an arrangement with a few years ago.”

Stu stood and shook both of their hands. Noah, far less nimble, neglected to stand, and instead offered his hand from his seated position. “This is Stuart,” he told them. “My partner.”

“Is that life partner or business partner?” Dominic asked. “I've heard quite a bit on the grapevine about how well your ventures have been doing.”

“Both, as it happens,” Noah said. “We’re here celebrating actually. Big milestone.”

“Well I'm glad to hear it,” Dominic said, warmly. “Well, we won't disturb you, we can ask to be put somewhere else.”

“Don't be silly,” Noah said, waving towards the table next to them as he caught sight of the waiters panicked look over at Eric.

“Well, if you're sure,” Dominic said as he settled in at the table. “I see you've kept up quite the voracious appetite,” he told Noah.

Noah smiled widely and leant back to show off as much of his expanse as he could. “I've got you to thank for that,” he told Dominic. “I've got quite a fair bit to thank you for, really.” He meant it genuinely. For all the oddness in their past, he wouldn't be half the man if they hadn't met, in more ways than one.

Dominic smiled sadly. “Yes well, I… I should apologise really,” he said. “I took advantage of my wealth and power to put you into a position that I imagine you'd rather not have been in.”

Noah waved him off. “Turns out I rather enjoyed the effects,” he said.

“Still,” Dominic insisted. “I'd like to apologise.”

“Consider it accepted,” Noah said. “Maybe we could get back in touch?” he suggested. “As equals this time.”

Dominic smiled warmly. “Yes, I think I'd enjoy that.”

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bbman30 · 10 days

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🥵🥵

Tumblr allowing boobs?!?

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bbman30 · 12 days

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Legendary

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training.

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach.

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word.

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic

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bbman30 · 12 days

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This is great! Hope there’s a sequel to continue his gain and maybe Stu’s to 🥵💦 @thegainingdesk