chapter 4

As Josh grew bigger, he was allowed to return to his apartment. He was given loose, baggy stretchy clothing. He could do whatever he liked, just as long as he stayed in his apartment and continued to drink his shakes. He could have as many or as few as he liked... or he could choose regular food. He was not being forced into gaining weight any more.
But Josh chose to continue. He continued because he was an addict. He might not need heroin, cocaine or any illegal substances any more, but he needed regular sugar hits. He needed the caffeine that had been added to the shakes at some stage. He was addicted to feeling uncomfortably full.
As soon as he woke in the morning, he pressed a button, demanding a shake. He would drink until his belly swelled and his skin was stretched tight.
He would moan and rub his belly. Every touch on his taut skin felt ultra sensitive. It had a sensuous quality to it that gave him a hard on.
He never wanted to be without a large shake by his side. He may partake in solid food once in a while, but it was the shakes that he could not give up.
He liked to keep himself as full as possible all day. His belly therefore required regular top ups. Solid food stayed in his belly longer. It felt good to taste something savoury and salty once in a while. It felt even better when it was laden with grease.
Of course, the calories and the fat stacked up. He continued to gain weight, fast!
His loose clothes filled out and then they started to get snug and tight.

Fanta told him to put on a new outfit one evening. He was to have a shave first. Josh objected. He had his evening planned. He did not want to go out! He was going to chug so much shake that it would make anyone else nauseous.
Josh's leg buzzed for the insolence of answering back.he was not allowed to question Fanta's motives.
Without any further hesitation, he shaved off his stubble and he put on the new outfit.
He soon learned that it was too small for him and his large belly.
The trousers were so tight that he struggled to get them up his legs and over his fattened bum. Tiny had to help him. He left the flies loose for now to deal with the shirt. It was a standard cotton shirt, with buttons. He could feel it was too small over the shoulders as he put it on. The buttons were tight over his chest. Tiny had to help him again as the fabric was so tight over his arms it threatened to split. Fastening the buttons over his belly was difficult even for Tiny. The was so much space between the buttons that his bare flesh was visible. The fabric puckered and wrinkled where it was at its tightest. Tiny yanked the shirt down. It took considerable manipulation to get it on so that it was covering his belly. Tiny tackled his flies next. Josh felt like a trussed up turkey, but they were not finished yet. Tiny fastened his tie next. It was wide enough to cover most of the damage.
There was a waistcoat to go with the trousers. It covered the worst of the gaps in his shirt, but the gaps in its the buttons were just as great. It was supposed to sit just over the waistband of his trousers. It didn't. It rode up creating a gap, where a roll of shirt covered flesh oozed out.
Tiny helped him on with his brogue style shoes and tied the laces. Then came the jacket to go over the top of the waistcoat. That covered the gap between his shirt and his waistcoat, but it was just as tight his shirt over his shoulders. Indeed, it felt tighter because the fabric was so thick.
Tiny buttoned up the jacket. Again the buttons gaped, but the worst of it was covered up. Josh could hardly move. Tiny combed Josh's hair and sprayed him with cologne.
Tiny gave him a pint glass full of shake, with the advice not to drink it until he was told to, or the surprise would be ruined.
Tiny led him out into the new club. Josh took a few sips from his shake as they walked. The glass was full, he could not risk it spilling as he walked!
The new club looked very different. It had a more luxurious feel to it. The wooden panelling had been stripped back to the wood and varnished. The rest of the walls had been covered in a dark green. British racing green by the looks of it. The carpet had been removed and the wooden floors polished and waxed. Elaborate large rugs were placed around the seating areas to give it a more luxurious feel. The bar remained on the balcony, but underneath were gaming tables, where several customers were already placing their bets.
The club oozed the upmarket, aristocratic quality of a stately home even down to the large oil paintings of proud stags, exaggeratedly large bulls, sheep and sleek racehorses.
The staff were all dressed in suits not disimillar to his own, but they fit.
Fanta stood surveying his territory from a small raised area in one of the corners. This was the stage where the live band would play muted jazz later on. He looked admiringly at Josh's bulging figure. A few short months ago, this suit would have been too big for him. Now it was far too small.
He waved a hand for drinks to be brought over. He sat down on a large green leather chesterfield sofa by the fire. He motioned for Josh to join them.
Josh sat down cautiously. The sofa was low. As he bent down, he could feel him shirt straining even more. He felt something give underneath all the layers.
"Unbutton your jacket as you sit down," Fanta advised, "but never ever make any adjustments to your attire unless you're told to... and don't talk. You are only here as decoration, but you can have as much shake as you like."
Josh didn't want to drink too much. There simply was not enough room. He felt humiliated enough as it was.

An hour later, the club had filled out, the band played softly in the background as Fanta discussed 'business' with his customers.
Josh felt his his shirt was slowly riding up, taking his waistcoat with it. A gap of flesh was beginning to appear around his waistline.
He tried not to drink too much, but he could not help it. As soon as his first pint of shake was finished, it was replaced with another. Josh felt like there was more slippage.
Fanta's barmaids wore a shirt, trousers and waistcoat similar to Josh's. Their outfits were fitted at the waist, making them look slimmer and sexier.
He stood up to give his seat up for a lady when he was told. Fanta remarked on how hot he must be and asked him to remove his jacket.
He tried to wriggle out of it, but it was no easy task because the clothing underneath was so tight. One of Fanta's barmaids had to help him remove it.
Josh could feel the draught around his midriff as his shirt had come adrift from being tucked into his trousers and had risen up causing a 2 inch gap of fat flesh to be visible underneath his shirt. His waistcoat had ridden up with his shirt. Now there was a surplus of fabric up around his shoulders.
He took a long drink of shake in embarrassment. His growing belly protested against the constraints. It wanted to be let loose.
"Stand up straight Josh!" Fanta ordered.
Josh thought he was standing up straight, but he pulled up even taller. All that did was cause more of a gap to open up between his shirt and his trousers.
A barmaid ran a sensual finger along his bare flesh. It made Josh tingle inside.
She unfastened the tight buttons of his waistcoat. His belly launched forwards with each release.
Several of Fanta's customers watched fascinated at the fat man's plight.
The tie came off next. It made the strain on Josh's shirt more visible. Not only was there a large gap underneath the shirt, but one button had popped open and a tear had appeared to the left of the placket.
The girl ran her fingers through his hair, danced around him, encouraged him to drink more.
He finished his second pint of shake. Another was brought the second he put down his empty glass. The strain on the shirt was too much. The rip got bigger, it rode up even further.
The girl told him to loosen his trouser button and pull down his zip.
The release of pressure was evident. She pulled his belly free of the restraining trousers. Unconstrained, it hung down below his shirt and stuck out a good foot away from his body. The marks of his belly's confinement were clearly visible. His shirt rode up once more as Josh rebalanced himself and finally rested above his great belly mound, wrinkled and out of the way.
Now more marks were visible on his belly.
Josh felt relieved now his fella was free. He had put up with the pressure for too long. He was hungry.
He finished his third pint of shake and downed half of another as soon as it arrived. Rivulets of shake escaped the side of his glass and ran down his chin onto his clean shirt.
When he was finished, his belly was as tight and round as a golf ball, but a hundred times bigger. The skin was stretched so much it was almost transparent.
Customers stood in shock and awe at his sheer size as he finished his fourth pint and another arrived.