Chapter 2 - midnight on the 1230 south town bus

“Last ride tonight for the 1230 South Town Express!”

In between shivers Milos Jeffries let out a sigh of relief. He had been stuck waiting here for the last half hour after a sooner than expected departure from his masters uptown loft. Snow pelted at his hatless head, the dark of the night lowering the temperature to a frigid 12 degrees fahrenheit. Milos was in no condition to be travelling in a night like this. Stuffed silly, Milos had been sent into the cold belching and woozy from the feast contained within his round form. He had pleaded to stay, but it was part of their m.o. now.

“This is what you wanted right?” Their cool voice had mocked. “I’ll see you next time.” A single wave and the door had been closed in his face. For a second Milos had just stood there, hiccuping and rubbing his painfully full stomach. Eventually it became clear it wasn’t a joke, and Milos had walked, gut grotesquely swollen atop a pair of unbuttoned skin tight slacks. He knew his master was watching him go, biting their lip at every jiggle and wobble. There were a lot more of those lately.

Milos had been promised it would be different this time. Master had asked him to wear the outfit he had worn the first time he had come to the loft. It was ridiculous, and they knew it. Even since the fall Milos had gone up at least thirty pounds. So the offer was sweetened.

‘You can stay the night if you show up in those clothes. Don’t be a baby you can wear a coat over it, no one on the bus will notice.’

That had not been true of course. Even completely empty Milos had gotten red in the face before somehow getting the button through the loop. He felt like an overstuffed sausage as he boarded the bus earlier that day, and there were of course stares. Quick side glances and shocked faces, subtle but Milos caught on. He couldn’t blame them. His pants looked painted on, he wouldn’t have doubted if someone put a bet on when he’d burst out of them.

‘Doesn’t he see himself in the mirror?’ Milos could practically read off a woman’s face. ‘Gross. Fatso over there must a really gave up!’ from a townie near the front window. His face burned red, but Milos would have cared about that more if it didn’t secretly turn him on. ‘Good thing I’m going nowhere but masters bed after this.’ He thought with ironic relief.

Six hours of feeding and a wobbly quarter mile walk later the fattened man had finally gotten to the stop. He had made the walk dozens of times by now, but the snow and his overfed stomach had slowed him down considerably. Milos had checked the time and hoped to catch the 11:30, but it was long gone by the time he waddled his way down there. And it wasn’t just the food and having to pull his unbuttoned pants up every five minutes either. The weight was beginning to take its toll. He had legitimately lost speed in the last few months. Milos was starting to walk like a fat man.

His thighs touched just slightly with each heavy step, the tender flesh scarlet with chafing by now. His belly and more recently his tits jiggled furiously with every movement, even his arms had softened. And yet with all the new blubber he was still cold.

Milos’ shirt that had been outgrown twenty pounds ago, it did it’s best to cover his soft flesh but it was a cork trying to plug a dam. Love handles and belly pooched out uncovered under his sweater. Milos was allowed a coat that actually fit, but it was more stylish than functional, and every gust of wind seemed to be attracted to him. They swept up from below and tickled his quivering soft parts that stuck out in a ring above his pants. And it was a very windy day.

Milos moved to meet the bus driver when he heard something hit the snow covered tarmac behind him. His hand blew to his backside and upon feeling only ass his face went pale.

‘My wallet!’

Milos was afflicted by two pronged dread. First, the wallet had fallen meaning he would need to pick it up. Milos was full as a tick, and his pants were skin tight. Any attempt to bend would leave him half naked by the side of the road. Second, he was not alone waiting for the midnight 1230 south town bus. Midway through the half hour wait a hooded figure approached and stood behind him.

Milos had tried to wave and say hi but squeaked to silence when he didn’t get a reply. The stranger stood behind him silently. Milos imagined they were judging how fat his ass had gotten. So he had waited, trying not to shiver to prevent any unnecessary wobbling.

As Milos turned his wallet was positioned a few inches from his face. The figure removed their scarf to reveal a smiling female face.

“Think you dropped this.” She said with a wink, tossing it to Milos and walking up the bus steps. Milos fumbled it once but caught it, and awkwardly got on board.