chapter 9

As the end of the month arrived, the effects of Martin's huge appetite were beginning to show even to the untrained eye. Giving his gluttony free reign had seen first a general thickening of his body, and now, at the end of the month, a noticeably increased protrusion of his belly, bum and love handles. A small paunch was now present whenever he was sitting, spilling a few inches over the increasingly tight waistband of his old 'fat' pants. Even when he was standing, his belly now rounded out a little under his shirt, and his thighs had begun to touch.

The work pants that had fit him comfortably at the beginning of the month now did not fit him at all. He could still pull them up over his butt (with much tugging and jumping), but there was simply no way the waistband would ever close. His new pale, soft flesh pushed the fly open so firmly he couldn't even zip it closed a little. Even with the pants undone, his love handles spilt generously over the sides.

"Oh my gosh," he muttered to himself, as he assessed the damage in the mirror. He turned around and glanced at his reflection over his shoulder. The pants were obscenely tight around his bubble-butt, hugging him like a second skin. He tried to remove them--only to find he was stuck.

He was not sure if he felt relieved or humiliated when Gwen entered the room a moment later, smiling and shaking her head in incredulity at the sight of him.

"Look what you've done to me in a month," Martin said, trying to sound cute and vulnerable.

Gwen laughed, finding it both adorable and exiting to see him in such a predicament.

"Hey, you're the one who's refusing to go shopping. Besides, that is more Mort than me. How often are you being his 'taste tester' now?"

"Only, like, three times a week," Martin said sheepishly.

"You need a hand there?" Gwen asked, watching him struggle.

"Um... yeah," Martin blushed. "I don't know why I was trying to put these on. Just to see if I could, I think."

He lay down on his bed, sucking in his belly as much as possible, while trying to work the pants back down over his hips and bum. Gwen seized the ankles and pulled, unable to keep the grin from her face.

Martin was pink in the face and short of breath by the time they had finally peeled the pants off. Even Gwen was panting slightly.

"It's the op-shop for these bad boys, I think," Gwen said. Martin began to protest, sitting up on the bed in only his t-shirt and Bonds underwear, his belly pooching out in front of him, red marks from the pants indented in his sides.

"No, no, they were too expensive. Besides, I'll be able to wear them again... now that the month is over... I'll start eating less."

"OK," Gwen said simply, with the air of someone accepting a challenge. "But at least level with me and get some clothes that fit- you know, just until you're thin again."

"OK, deal," Martin caved in.

"What's the damage anyway?" Gwen asked, unable to help herself. "You know, weight-wise?"

"I've been putting off checking," Martin confessed. "I think I'm just back to my old weight -from before I went to Chad's."

"We'll see," Gwen said mischievously. She disappeared for a moment into the bathroom, and returned with the scale. "Moment of truth. Get on."

With a slight groan, Martin complied. He stepped on the scale, and found he had to lean forward a little to see over his belly.

The digital numbers flashed for a moment, then settled on 96.3kg. That was several kilos heavier than he had ever been before--no wonder even his old fat pants were beginning to feel tight!

"Oh my goodness," Martin said quietly, stunned. "This is the biggest I've ever been."

"Well, if it's any consolation--I think you look great," Gwen said. "Now, c'mon, before the shops close."

*

That night, with their month's agreement finally over, they watched a movie of Gwen's choice: a classic called 'Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things.'

Martin was much more comfortable in his new, larger pants, but was still wearing one of his old t-shirts, which was becoming a bit tight under the armpits, and a bit short in front, riding up over his expanded belly. He had bought a whole new work wardrobe in larger sizes.

This was supposed to be the night when he returned to his diet, but he simply could not resist ordering Maccas for their movie night. He gorged on a Quarter Pounder and a Big Mac, large fries and a thickshake while they watched the movie. Afterwards, when the food had settled in his belly a little, he had a whole tub of Ben & Jerrys fudge ice cream for dessert. He rubbed his belly in contentment, knowing that had had just eaten more calories in one meal than he had had in an entire day when he had been living with Chad. He knew then that he was never going to go back on his old diet--but he was not quiet ready to admit it to anybody else.