Chapter 3 - 3. gaining pace

Pat ate relentlessly in his second month, more than just to fill his appetite he tried to stretch it to new limits, frequently after finishing meals he'd ask for something extra to fill himself with which Jim had grown accustomed to leaving out ice cream quarts for. He seemed to blimp from day to day getting visibly larger, new folds or dimples appearing upon inspection. He managed to nearly double his weight in the course of that month, starting it portly and ending it at a porcine 604 pounds of manly fat. Putting on so much weight so rapidly had reduced his mobility to only being able to get up with Jim's help. Not that he had anywhere to go, he'd started taking all of his meals in bed or on the couch after getting over 450 and had abandoned clothing after the 10xl shirts left half a foot of gut hanging out and the shorts split trying to reign in his nearly seven foot waistline that week. Jim loved his husband's growth and admired that he was three times the man from when they had started, better yet was another test of his melted ice cream capacity. Jim blindfolded the excited glutton and grabbed a beer funnel from a party in college. With ten gallons ready to pour Patrick was going to drink without being told how much he'd put away, only stopping on his request. Minutes passed with him letting gravity do the work of filling his belly with the smooth chocolate ice cream, he really couldn't tell where Jim was changing between tubs so he just relaxed and thought more about the absurd amount he'd gained that month, it felt so good, he felt so alive! Pat released powerful moans while chugging away, putting away gallon after gallon for nearly half an hour before calling the quits, 8 gallons of ice cream resting in his packed gut by the time he was satisfied.

Working on capacity had been a helpful endeavor as Pat had grown able to eat almost nonstop while awake. Propped up by pillows he would rest mostly upright, massive belly spilling over his groin and fighting his wide hips for space. The position enabled him to use his upper belly and chest as an informal table to eat off of, sure the occasional crumb or morsel might slip into one of his growing collection of folds and creases but Jim's regular attentive care made sure he was kept clean and happy. Not satisfied with the caloric intake of his meals as they were Patrick began requesting almost anything he ate be covered in additional sauces, everything now came drenched in butter, ranch, BBQ sauce, or frosting. He stood up for the last time only a week after his last weigh in, they used the chance to slip a specialty scale underneath the mattress so they could keep track. Pat panted heavily, the few steps between the bed and bench he sat on had felt like miles on his overburdened legs, Jim zeroed the scale and helped him back up. Climbing in bed for what he knew would be the last time under his own strength Patrick saw the new scale light up 688 pounds... he was gaining faster than the 11-pound average a day! Pat enjoyed the struggle of what were formerly a simple task like rolling himself over. With the added tonnage he found he needed to rock himself back and forth a few times to build up inertia and swing his hefty leg upwards for counterbalance. He'd plop over, fattened rolls fighting each other as they piled on top of each other. Jim took pictures of Pat laying on his side, rolls all piled together and spilling off of him while Patrick attempted his best sultry "come-hither" expression to go with the pose.