Chapter 4

At Gordon’s third weigh-in, the scale read 202 pounds. He had to lean forward to see the number.

“My big man,” said Katy, wrapping her arms around his thick waist. “I’m proud of you. How far do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure,” said Gordon slowly. He knew he wasn’t done gaining but he wasn’t sure exactly how big he really wanted to be. “Maybe I’ll stop for a little while, see how 200 feels, before I go on.”

So Gordon stopped deliberately forcing himself to eat more and more. But the habit of big meals was stuck. His stomach was stretched to a much greater capacity, so even just eating until he was full Gordon still put away a lot of food.

He loved being a big guy. He imagined his belly spilling down onto his lap, covering his genitals. Being so big he couldn’t reach his genitals. Oh god. He reached into his pants, jerking off at the fantasy.

Like most people, Gordon overate during the holidays, but it was still two weeks before Christmas when he notice his pants were getting hard to button again. He grunted, sucked his belly in and pulled them shut, managing to get the button done up. But as soon as he exhaled, there was a pop and a zing as the button went flying across the room. These were his 40 inch pants, he thought in surprise. Maybe his body was deciding for him that he should keep gaining. He hopped on the scale. 210, it read. The thought made him horny. When Katy came into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, he told her about his pant trouble. As he’d suspected, the story got her so hot and bothered they both ended up being late for work.

Katy was a teacher, so she had a three-week break after the December exams. Gordon decided to surprise her with a treat.

“Say, why don’t we have a little bout of gaining over the holidays?” he said. “Let’s see, how about while you’re off, you get to stuff me as often as you like?”

“Oh, yes, please!”

So she spent her days cooking elaborate meals and most every evening he was stuffed so he could barely breathe.

On Christmas Eve, they unwrapped their presents under their own tree for the first time ever. He was thrilled by her gift of the new xbox games he’d been wanting, but he saw she was struggling to hide her disappointment with his gift of a book on Canadian literature.

“Do you like the book?” he asked, hiding an evil grin.

“Oh, sure, I’m sure it will be kind of interesting,” she replied.

“Well, I do have another present for you,” he said, producing a large box from the hall closet.

She perked up and tore open the wrapping paper. She pulled out sheet after sheet of newspaper, but could find nothing else.

“What-” she snapped, but stopped as she reached the bottom of the box. There, taped down, was a much smaller box. A jewellery-shaped box.

“What-” she said again in amazement.

Gordon lowered his bulk to one knee.

“Katy Bryden, will you marry me?”

She started to cry, then flung herself across the room onto his neck.

“Yes, my big handsome man, yes!”

Then there was a lot of hugging and kissing and belly squeezing and the crinkling of wrapping paper on the floor. It was a while before Katy even got around to opening the ring box.

The next day, the couple went to Gordon’s parents’ place for Christmas dinner. Gordon was a bit nervous, as his parents saw him regularly, but his brother and sister-in-law and aunts and uncles and cousins didn’t. They were coming in from out of town for the holiday meal.

Most of the family were too excited by news of the engagement to comment on Gordon’s burgeoning belly. His brother made a remark about how he was getting porky.

“Yep!” said Gordon happily, and slapped his belly.

Katy had made him eat lunch before leaving the house, so he had eaten three bowlfuls of stew before they even arrived. Then there were chocolates to be passed around and nuts and cookies to snack on before the big meal. Gordon piled his plate high with turkey and dressing and mashed potatoes and carrots and squash and cranberry sauce. Everyone took seconds, but Gordon saw Katy’s eyes widen when he took a third helping. Only she knew it was really his sixth serving of the day. He smiled. He knew she was getting wet watching him eat and he loved making her squirm here, where she couldn’t do anything about it.

She got her revenge when she brought him both a big slice of apple pie and a big slice of butterscotch pie for dessert. He had to wait a while before he could even stand after finishing both. He puffed up the stairs to his old bedroom. He barely fit in the narrow bed he’d slept in as a teen. Well, he’d been a child then and now he was a man. A big man. He rubbed the underside of his bloated belly, noting the purple stretch marks on his sides. Life was good.