chapter 3

The next morning, Trent and I happened to be jogging on adjacent treadmills while we were with our clients, Amy and Joy. Amy came to me at 274 pounds a while back and here she was, down to 213. Such a loss. Such a shame.

Joy's transformation under Trent wasn't quite as dramatic, as she arrived at 227 and whittled her way down to 188. Her, I had less faith in to lose weight. Any day now, that 188 is going to be a 190 and it will only continue to climb from there. She didn't know it, but when she was 227, she was prepping her body for immense growth potential in the longer term. The foundation was set, it merely needed to be built upon.

"What did you ask me last night?" Trent asked, pulling me from my daydream. We each spoke between huff of breath, giving occasional nods and smiles of encouragement to our clients while they casually jogged with their earbuds in.

I had to think for a moment to realize what he was talking about. Oh yeah. Last night. "If you had six months to make Mallory as fat as possible, how fat do you think she'd be at the end?"

He glanced forward confused then turned back to face me. "Why do you ask?"

"Well obviously, the simplest solution to our problem is to hook up Mallory and Neil. And unless Mallory is fat herself, what reason would she have to be interested in Neil?"

Trent thought for a moment and continued to run. He would occasionally look back to me as if he was gauging how serious I was.

I gave him the grin that had been convincing enough to get him to follow me this far.

"Fat enough," he eventually replied.

----

Six months came and went. I kept Neil on his diet regimen and he continued to swell. We were able to update to high speed gigabit fiber internet, so he was working from home now, which meant pajama pants and stretchy, cotton undershirts. It meant Neil not noticing the usual hallmarks of weight gain, like restrictive clothing.

However, at over 500 pounds, even his stretchy comfy clothes weren't enough to cover all of him. His bellybutton and midsection were as constantly visible as his face. As he sat on the sofa, spread across all three seats, it was hard to tell where he ended and the furniture began.

A bowl of m&m's sat amongst numerous dishes of bite-sized snacks and he sunk his hand into the itty-bitty candies pulling out a handful that he brought to his open mouth. He tilted his head back and regulated the flow of m&m's into his gaping maw from his chubby palm, lovingly devouring them as he once did my own vagina. It was amazing to see how far he had come.

Neil's chewing slowed to a stop and his fat face sunk deeper into his fleshy hilltop shoulders. A roar of gas exploded from beneath him and reverberated through the couch, jostling the floor and walls. It continued to pour from him for ten whole seconds, followed closely by two more, each one shorter than the last but no less loud than the first.

He gasped for breath, exhausted from dispelling of the pressure that had been welling up inside him for who knows how long.

Luckily I kept a can of air-freshener nearby and began spraying the space around Neil, followed by the corners of the ceiling, letting the aromatic mist fall lightly and coat the room. I approached him and rubbed his belly to calm it. "Babe, I know it feels good to ease the tension in your stomach, but we're expecting company so you have to compose yourself," I explained as gently and innocently as I could.

He moaned, his eyes still closed and (sort of) nodded his head. "I'll try," he huffed.

I smiled at him in this state. He didn't seem to care anymore. I guess he had accepted that this was how I wanted him. I mean, he wasn't wrong, but he also didn't understand.

He must have felt so comfortable in the notion that he could completely let himself go and I would remain by his side. This was why I had initially worried about staying with him too long into his weight gain. But it was okay. Because our guests were going to make a clean break possible again.

Over the past six months, Trent and I kept communication to a minimum. He focused on fattening Mallory, his methods unknown to me, and I focused on seeing how much fatter I could make Neil so as to ensure he would not be so picky over his potential romantic partners.

Part of my method was connecting food with sex, presenting him cakes and pies with one hand, while plunging my other into the recesses of his bulbous flesh to find his shrunken member and tug on it until he received his other common release.

Sometimes I felt like I was reaching into Neil up to my elbow and the danger of getting lost in him gradually became a surprising turn-on of my own.

A knock at the door pulled me back to the present, suddenly again seeing Neil at his fattest before me, still eating from the dishes before him. I smiled as I turned to the door and called out: "Coming!"

I opened the door, revealing still-sexy Trent and a surprisingly chubby Mallory!

"Hey!" I shouted, hoping my shock at Mallory's size was mistaken for excitement over being reunited. I hugged Mallory and honestly, it was probably a little too tight for a little too long. But I couldn't help it! There was something exciting about feeling fewer layers of fat than I had been accustomed to. Through the strained fabric of her shirt,I could feel her potential. I could feel her nascent growth. It was exciting because it was a fresh start to me. Beginning anew. And I realized: now that I'm around, Mallory's growth hasn't seen its end.

The seeds had been sown. It was time to let them bloom.

I hugged Trent, our hard bodies briefly embracing each other an alien sensation to, I think, both of us. We gave ourselves a couple of pats to signify the end of the hug and I invited them in.

Trent's jaw dropped as his eyes landed on Neil, who took up a sizeable chunk of the living room. He was a fixture. He was part of the decor, now.

"Hey, man!" Trent said, after a pause. "You're looking good!" he leaned over the coffee table and the snack bowls and plates covering it to extend a hand to Neil. Neil's chubby, chocolate-slicked fingers wrapped around Trent's palm and they shook for a moment. Trent tried to wipe his hand on his pants on the downlow, but he wasn't successful at being sneaky.

Mallory was also in shock but gave a friendly wave. Neil's face betrayed his disbelief at Mallory's added poundage as well. She was wearing stretchy yoga pants, but they were painted over her thicker form. Her shirt allowed the w-shape of her underbelly to peek through, obviously a favorite from several sizes ago.

I was impressed by Trent's progress with her. He had done a wonderful job. She was becoming quite the work of art, but she was still a work-in-progress.

"Please, make yourselves at home! Dinner's almost ready," I announced.

----

Trent joined me in the kitchen, while I made final preparations of our meal: Cheesy garlic bread, a large bowl of salad, a pot of creamy chicken alfredo, fried mushrooms with a tangy aioli sauce, and a plate of bruschetta. And for dessert: a tiramisu recipe I found being shared around the feedism community.

It was both surprising and unsurprising to find a community of people that enjoyed fattening others or being fattened themselves. I had only recently discovered this pleasure, but I knew I wasn't a pioneer and was merely late to the game.

"He's huge!" Trent whispered, grinning. "What happened to him?"

I smiled at Trent as I stirred the pot of chicken alfredo and breathed deeply over the delicious smell escaping the stove top. "I did," I eventually answered. "Besides, you didn't do too bad yourself, mister," I said, placing the lid on the pot and the wooden spoon on a dish on the counter. "Mallory looks like she could devour entire wedding cakes by herself."

"She can," Trent proudly declared. "And she has."

"How much?" I ask, pouring a glass of wine and handing it to him.

"256 as of this morning," he answered, taking the glass. "Yours?"

I smiled as I poured myself a glass. "514." I spun around and we raised our glasses but just before clinking them together, I toasted: "To fat."

"To fat," Trent replied, tapping his glass to mine and taking a sip.

As I drank, we glanced into the living room to see Mallory giggling with a smiling Neil. They had met before at that dinner, but now they were getting along swimmingly. She was even pinching from the same snack bowls and plates as Neil, crowding the space between her cheeks with sweet and savory morsels, adding to the subtle-yet-significant changes still to come on her body.

"They're cute," I said, taking a long drink.

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