chapter 1

1.

Mac reached up under his helmets visor to wipe away sweat as he came to a stop. A teal moped rumbled tinnily under Mac's skinny butt, which was sore after a long ride. It was only May, but the oppressive humidity of Durham was already getting to him. Having moved down here from northern Vermont after graduation, the climate, and the people inhabiting it, had done little to make him feel at home. It was always hot and sticky. The food was too, and the people, at least the larger ones. Sweat, grease, bbq sauce, Mac couldn’t help but stare at the parade of overfed bodies that filled this area of the country. Maybe that’s why he had ended up here.

Looking past the cast iron gate in front of him, Mac couldn’t believe his fortunes. There was a long curved driveway surrounded by landscaped flower beds, lampposts positioned every fifty feet until the view was cut off. This wasn’t just a ‘place,’ as the contact he had met online had said. ‘Place,’ conjured images of crusty apartments and loud roommates. This was an estate.

“Hello, uh- Mr.Kazyr?” Mac said, bony finger pressing down an intercom button, “it’s…” Mac paused. He hadn’t actually given his name when they chatted online. Unlike Dominic Kazyr, or Dom as he insisted he be called, Mac didn’t have the kind of confidence to put things out on the internet like that.

“Ah, and you must be Curious Oink? Right on time,” a gruff, weathered voice said, chuckling through his words. Mac cringed at the use of his message board handle, but at the same time felt himself swoon. The voice matched what Mac imagined when he saw pictures of the person who owned this ‘place.’ Dom was a stout bear of a man with a wide bearded smile that, paired with his full cheeks, made him squint behind thick round glasses. Gruff yet approachable, intense yet bookish. Exactly Mac’s type. He felt himself go weak in the knees just hearing Dom speak.

“Yes, it’s me,” Mac said, a wave of apprehension rocking him. Was he really here to be fed until he nearly popped by a man two decades older than him? Examining the thought from a ‘normal’ standpoint made it seem so strange it bordered on surreal. Dealing with this fetish of his had come with many of these moments of cold feet. Mac had never engaged his weight gain kink with anything in real life before, this was further than he had ever gone.

Roleplay, gainer porn, the occasional stuffing alone had been enough until now. Through college Mac had talked with dozens of feeders online but they always ended the same way. Mac wouldn’t put on weight, or even overeat consistently, and they would grow bored of him. But the ever-persistent urge to fatten himself up had never faded like Mac hoped it would. He was nearly 24, over a year past graduation. Talking with Dom had cemented it for him. This was who he was.

“I’m not letting you in until you tell me your name, kid,” Dom said, still chuckling. Mac choked it out, feeling like a little boy visiting the doctor.

“Good boy,” Dom said. Mac heard a click and the sound of an electric motor as the gate swung open.

“Hope you’re ready to have some fun,” were the last words from the intercom speaker before it went silent.

Mac took a deep breath and revved his moped through the opening. The driveway went on for some time, nearly a quarter mile in a lazy curve until he reached the house. All the while Mac recounted the path that brought him here.

If seen on the street, no one would say Dom and Mac looked like compatible partners. Mac hadn’t talked sexually to anyone this old, or sweet. Dom’s charm caught the younger man off guard. What was meant to be a polite decline upon seeing his round gray face pop up in his chats became curiosity at the forceful positivity behind his words.

‘I see a piggy needs some fattening up ;P’

The dated emoji use and confidence had Mac hooked within hours of chatting. Their message board conversations became free flowing exchanges of lust lasting well into the night. Fat, weight gain, domination, role play, all of it and more. Dom had listened to Mac’s concerns about gaining weight. He understood. He cared. Mac had never revealed these vulnerable parts of himself to anyone before, not fully anyway. Dom wasn’t even the one who suggested they meet, that was all Mac. Maybe it was his horniness taking charge, or the realization that this urge wasn’t going away, but Mac needed this. He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t go his whole life without experiencing his fetish to the fullest.

As Mac rested his moped on its kickstand, he let out a long whistle. His evaluation earlier had been dead on, it was truly an estate. Broad and covered in dark stained shingles, it stuck out from the trees that surrounded it like the world's fanciest treehouse. Mac put his moped’s kickstand into position and stumbled to the door in a haze, the handle swinging back before he could reach. A gray haired man with a muscled chest and hard ball belly nearly bumped into him.

“So you’re Mac huh?” he said, leaning on one leg, hand on his meaty hip, “you’re even thinner than I thought! C’mon, let’s get you an appetizer.”

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