Chapter 2 - 2. growing enormous

Still interested in being a part of your office team while working from home full time you made it a point to still attend happy hour on occasion. Your displays of unyielding gluttony had updated from ordering everything on the menu to having the office try to beat your belly, ordering waves of boneless wings, bar nachos and other fried delights by the table-full until you called the quits or the happy hour window closed. It had been a few weeks since your last visit after you had found your car too tight of a fit which gave time for an upgrade of sorts. You "ducked out" early one afternoon to get to the restaurant before anyone else with the drive. Loading 707 pounds into your new van with disability plates wasn't easy but you were excited. As the first colleague arrived they had to hide their visible shock. Rather than being seated on two or even three chairs you had rolled up in a bariatric wheelchair, WIDER than the table your massive paunch was pressed into. Grunting in acknowledgement as you were mid-feast your friends patted your fat back as they sat down and you bested the informal challenge once again. When asked why yo got the wheelchair as everyone left the restaurant you grumbled, "Short walks are overrated".


With the trouble of walking out of your daily routine being a certified *** had become an almost constant turn on. Seeing the stares when you went out to eat or feeling your massive ass brushing against just about everything you rolled past in your chair caused your cock to remain stiff and leaking fluid into your fat folds around the clock. After a dinner meant to feed a party of ten and an equally sized sheet cake with your bare hands it came time to do something with yourself. Transferring from the couch to your chair and then into your bedroom you stepped on the industrial scale. The LED readout was mounted on the wall and read 770 pounds. Your dick felt close to bursting and you got in bed, shifting to your side so your gelatinous gut splayed outwards you lifted one leg to rub the remaining tip of your cock that still peeked out of so much fupa. This time however you shoved your hand into the main crease of your gut but couldn't get farther than brushing the wisps of hair on your fat pad. Changing positions a few ways you finally gave up, exhausted by the effort of rolling over. Seeing your nearly pressed shut squinting face in the mirror, and the majesty of your ten foot girth you howled as your pitiful cock gushed. Following that you gained control over orgasming just seeing what you'd grown into. Setting up full body mirrors was a bit difficult but several times a day you'd get release just by seeing yourself eat and paw at the outermost crest of your paunch, "Jacking off is overrated".


The clothing requirements of working from home were thankfully sparse. You were down to a handful of 15XL shirts and sweatshorts to answer the door in. Day by day your body swelled and they grew tighter. You didn't mind your shirt riding up but when your last pair of shorts burst under the deluge of an extra large meat lovers and 30 wings you decided it was the end of dressing your 803 pound body. Looking at the immense couch filling belly in the mirror reminded you of the rewards of such healthy eating. Cum leaked out of the folds of your crotch into spots on your shorts for the last time as you reached for pizza #2, through a mouthful of empty calories you muttered, "Clothing is overrated".


Shoving tens of thousands of calories into yourself and walking less than a dozen paces a day rendered you a steadily inflating behemoth. Your belly stretched to a width you never could have imagined possible, an almost insurmountable mound of lard preventing all but the most basic movement. The 15XL shirt was reduced to a crop top for your daily videoconferences, barely even capable of covering the thick rolls that your mantits had grown into. Leaving the house now was a laughable prospect since your *** was now hanging off the sides of your wheelchair in foot thick mounds of flab that made up the widest part of your belly crease. Feeling up for a drive thru after weighing in at 855 pounds late one night you tried to get through the door to your garage. Getting up to your feet to try and squeeze through was no small task anymore so when you managed it was already making you feel like someone who had run for miles. Just looking at how narrow the doorway seemed compared to your girth you sat back down immediately giving up. "Doorways are overrated".


You should have been worried, you should have at least tried to restrain your appetite but instead it seemed easier just to eat all day. Even during meetings food had finally crept in as you couldn't resist just one more bucket of chicken or something. It came to a head when your boss called you into a private meeting. He admitted it was obvious you were gaining weight but never really minded since the office liked you. It was discovered however that one employee had been taking spy photos for years after being caught trying to tape your eating in a recent video chat. The videos of happy hours past and recent ones of your mindless eating had apparently sold well for the gainer community. He was being fired but your boss pointed out if you looked at the disability fine print you could hire a private caregiver. If your appetite was on fire before hiring Rick was pouring gasoline. Anything remotely inconvenient was his responsibility, opening the door, trash, charging the wheelchair and even daily sponge baths were his job. As a bonus the eating videos became a side job. A month after he moved in you barely got out of bed anymore. On a sheet change day you struggled the five steps with the lowest part of your titanic gut bumping into your knees and stepped on the scale. It shouldn't have surprised you but the bright red readout shined 910 pounds. Collapsing onto your now puny wheelchair gasping for enough air it dawned on you, "Walking is overrated".


You set a requirement with Rick, no more than six steps a day. You were tired of the strain and your ass was wider than every doorway in the house besides the double doors into your master bath which had been taken off the hinges anyway. Every day you sat in bed either eating or working while demanding Rick pick up the slack. Your daily intake continued to grow almost as much as you did. The ball of lard surrounding your cock had made even Rick reaching it nearly impossible and the feeling of other parts of your fat smashing into it was a near constant distraction, trying to reach the outer edges of your gut as it flowed outwards at the same time was an easy way to trigger a climax. Your new caregiver wanted you fatter too and proved invaluable by getting a bariatric crane lift through your company disability insurance after sending in a photo of you weighing in at 950 pounds. You sold a video showcasing the first time you're lifted by it. The motor was rated to lift more than a ton and had no trouble pulling your massive girth off the bed. The tarp pressed your nearly half ton body together so firmly you could barely even wave your arm and your head was rubbing into your mega-mantits. Wheezing for breath Rick pulled in for a close-up and you manage to say, "Mobility is overrated" before erupting in orgasm.