Chapter 3 - Hog trainers and showertime

Author's Note: Well, you know, it's like I always say... when I'm in the shower. 🎶Shower time!!🎶




***


The stairs were longer than Katrina remembered, though the workout she’d just had might have been affecting her recall. After a long and blunt conversation with Phillip, they’d both agreed that each needed to do some work if Phillip wanted to keep enjoying his binges.

For Katrina, that meant building some muscle at the gym. Already, she’d found it easier to lift his belly, haul his laundry to the washing machine, and carry the massive grocery haul she picked up each week. Plus, she was also noticing changes in her figure. Her waist was trimmer, her butt more rounded with muscle, and her shoulders broader which only enhanced her hourglass figure.

In Phillips’ case, he was to walk. They’d agreed to budget for a gym membership for his beautiful girlfriend, and a specialized obesity coach for him. It was a fairly new specialization in occupational therapy, thanks again to LipidEase. As health consequences faded into memory, fatness had become a condition to be managed rather than a disease to be cured, and these new coaches (called hog trainers by those still prejudiced against fat, and those aroused by it alike) had busy practices.

When she entered their apartment, Phillip’s coach was finishing up their session. “Come on, big boy,” he cheered, chipper enough for a Disney showstopper, “You walked for three minutes straight! You can do one squat!”

“Maybe if I had done the squat before the walk,” groused Phillip loudly. He grunted, voice sounding strained, and after a few seconds of his groaning applause rang out from the living room. Katrina turned the corner just into time to see her gorgeously immense boyfriend successfully rising from a squat. It was a very shallow and laborious squat, but pride filled her nonetheless.

She joined in the applause, and Phillip and his trainer turned to look at their new audience. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met,” said the trainer. “Take five Phil, we’ve got a cooldown stretch to do but you can sit for a minute. I’m Vince, pleased to meet you.”

“Katrina, and likewise,” she said. When he turned back, she subtly eyed his body next to her lover’s. Most might hear “coach” and assume there’d be someone thin and muscle bound with the title. Not this hog trainer. He was quite the specimen himself, a thick musclechub with golden brown skin, curly black hair not unlike Phillip’s, and a high, round gut that contrasted with her boyfriend’s soft, jiggling water balloon of a belly. The only time Phillips’ gut had any firmness was when he had been fully stuffed, and even then it was only the upper portion of his gut. They could have been brothers in two versions: regular, and super-size.

Vince had turned back to Phillip and begun giving him his tasks for the week while Katrina was occupied with ogling these delightful fatties. “...So that’s three minutes twice a day. Did you hear that? TWICE a day. I’m taking you at your word that you want to preserve your mobility *and* enjoy your ice cream, so I expect to come back and hear that you’ve kept up with this.” He turned and winked at Katrina. “And your lovely lady here has my permission to nag you if you don’t!”

“Ha! And I will,” she smirked at the men.

“Okay, we’ll just be a few more minutes while I help him stretch,” Vince said and knelt at the side of Phillip’s chair. “You can stay if you'd like, Kat, you could help him do this stretch in the future.” She did, and also wanted to watch the two BHMs a bit longer. Vince picked up one of Phillips’ bolster-like legs and picked it up. His biceps bulged under the thick layer of blubber in his arms as it took quite a bit of effort to get that much fat in motion. Then, Vince stretched Phillip’s ankle and calf, gently rotating the foot around, before lifting Phillip’s leg slightly higher to stretch his little-used hamstrings.

Her boyfriend sighed as the tension in his legs was slowly relieved. “You can help him with this stretch a few times a day if you’re up for it. His legs are pretty big so don’t hurt yourself in the process,” Vince instructed. He began working on Phillip’s other leg in the same way while the bigger man closed his eyes and rested.

By the time Vince was done with the stretches, Phillip was dozing. *We really have let him get lazy* thought Katrina with amusement. “You've been such a help, Vince, he was able to walk to the corner store yesterday thanks to the work you’ve been doing with him.” She spoke quietly, and didn’t mention that the corner store was two doors down.

“What? He can’t do stairs yet,” said Vince with surprise.

Katrina laughed quietly, careful to avoid waking her slumbering boyfriend. “No, no, this building used to be a factory. It was retrofitted after LipidEase and the freight elevator would hold a few Phillips at a time.”

“Cool!” enthused Vince. “Any openings? I have a few clients who could use an accessible building.”

“There might be, though it’s filling up fast,” she added with an unconscious glance at her boyfriend who often did the same, “It’s limited to people over five hundred pounds though. We managed to get in when it opened so we’ve been here a while.”

“Ahh, LipidEase early adopters!” Vince said with a grin.

Katrina’s expression grew funny, her mouth twisted into a half-suppressed smile while her shoulder shook with laughter. “Yes, and no. He was already four hundred and fifty when LipidEase was released, but,” she became more serious, “It was a life saver. He was always big, and then gained a lot, far too quickly for his own good after an accident at work. Now, he doesn’t have to constantly worry about his health at his size, we can just enjoy it.”

Vince rocked back on his heels. He was marvelously agile for a man of – she guessed – over three hundred pounds, perhaps even closer to four with all the muscle under his lard. “I noticed you said *we* there.”

“Well, yeah, I love him and his size,” she said, reaching over to pat his belly affectionately.

The grin on the hog trainer’s face was a mile wide. “That’s so goddamn sweet! I love that you found each other even before the pig pill.”

She cracked up at that, and the noise startled Phillip awake. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized vaguely. “I think I drifted off there.”

“I worked you hard, dude,” said Vince as he rose. He slapped Phillip’s shoulder in a demonstration of bro-affection which in turn distracted Katrina. The bounce of a fat gut was constantly alluring to her. “All right, lovebirds, I’m going to head on out. See you next week, Phil!” He strode out of the apartment with the slightest of waddles, whistling cheerfully.

After the front door closed, Katrina threw her arms around her fatty. “How’re you feeling, love?”

Phillip returned her embrace and chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Katrina asked.

“You were distracted by my jiggling, and Vince gave you the once over like you wouldn’t believe,” he laughed, not a jealous bone in his huge body. “I love seeing other guys check you out. It makes me feel like I’ve got the most beautiful woman in the world on my arm – because I do.” He pulled her deeper into his soft, engulfing embrace and gave her a kiss. A single kiss became several more, growing in intensity and hunger.

“Hey, love, I need to shower. How about you?” Katrina cooed in his ear. Phillip’s grin was all the answer she needed. “Give me a head start to wash myself, and then I’ll get *you* nice and clean.”

“It’ll take me a few minutes to get up,” he huffed, already setting his body into rippling motion, “You’ve got plenty of time!” Another laugh, then a grunt escaped him as he wobbled his way towards standing.

Katrina skipped off to the shower, her lovely curves and increasingly perfect ass mesmerizing Phillip for a moment. *How could an already perfect ass get more perfect?* he wondered, yet it was true. She just got hotter every year to him, even the few premature grays at her temple gave her an elegance he admired. Lost in thought, he summoned his strength and used his already weary muscles to push himself to standing. Perhaps the rest of the day might be spent in bed – but dammit, he had that other walk to do. Maybe I’ll count this, he thought wearily as he shuffled off to the bathroom.

One thing the designers of this apartment building had kept in mind at all times was the comfort and ease of use of all the amenities by immensely fat people. Everything was reinforced, and if an occupant happened to exceed the weight guidelines for a particular feature – such as the huge benches in the shower – a handyman would be sent out within seventy-two hours to either replace it or install additional supports as required. The halls were almost as wide as the aisles at Round the World, and Phillip would have to gain a fair bit before he even came close to grazing the sides of the doorways.

It took him several minutes to reach the bathroom – *Maybe I could count this as a walk in good faith after all* he mentally moaned – and was struck by the sight of Katrina, naked in the glass-walled shower, rinsing suds from her smooth, pale skin, her golden-brown hair dark with water streaming over her body. She turned and her full breasts swayed, rosy nipples soft in the hot water, then hardening as soon as she opened her eyes to see her beloved blimp.

She stepped forward and pressed herself against the glass with a flirty grin. “What are you waiting for?”

“Help me undress,” he huffed and lowered himself none-too-gently onto the sturdy chair kept just for such a purpose. She giggled and hastened out of the shower, her wet, bare flesh glistening. Phillip could feel his cock stiffen deep under his fat, and anticipation warmed him.

“Of course,” she murmured and pulled his shirt off. It was damp with the sweat of his exertion, and flew into the hamper with a toss. She bent to pull his sweats and boxers, and he raised himself just enough for her to slide them off of his panting, fat form. She took his wrists and pulled to help him get up again. Phillip lurched to his feet and waddled to the shower where another seat awaited.

The spectacle of his rolls in motion left her frozen, staring. The thick crease just above his elephantine buttocks shifted with every step, each fat cheek swelling upwards as he swung his foot forward. Matching rolls under his shoulder blades undulated as he swung his arms laboriously, huffing after his three-minute workout and single squat. The sides of his belly were visible on either side of his hips, although it was truly difficult to tell where each roll ended and the next began. Finally, he arrived at the shower bench and plopped down with a relieved sigh.

“Come on in, little kitty-cat,” he said, half-jest, half-command, “Lick me clean.” He slapped his gut, a jiggling invitation to worship and bathe every inch of his fat flesh.

Katrina moved so quickly she slid the last few inches to him, crashing into his well-cushioned belly. “Sorry,” she giggled and sank to her knees. Katrina kissed his deep belly-button, tonguing it as she would his mouth, savoring his sweat, even the sour edge he acquired with activity. He panted, his breaths hard and fast. For him, his gut was as much of an erogenous zone as his nipples, or his cock and the surrounding fat pad.

Phillip pulled at his belly, trying to lift it, but Katrina was already pushing it up. Together, they lifted it high enough for her to access the sweets hidden underneath. Obediently, she dived in, licking every inch of his fat thighs, his underbelly, soft and faintly discolored from friction, and the swollen fat pad hiding his cock.

“Aren’t you going to wash me?” he asked breathlessly.

She retreated briefly to say, “You said to lick you clean. I’ll get soap involved eventually, but I’m being a good girl right now.” Katrina winked at him and he beamed.

“You are. You’re such a good girl,” he said with a moan. She dove back in, flicking her tongue along the deep creases of his hips. His thighs pushed together, mounding his fat pad higher, and creating rippling layers of lard that she licked gratefully. The acrid, salty taste of his skin, and the oddly creamy musk of his scent aroused her, soaking her sex. Her hand dropped lower, seeking her clit, and she touched herself as she obeyed his order.

The plump swells of his knee and calf were next, then the rolls of his ankles, and even his adorably fat feet were tended to by her eager tongue. The pleasure of her submission deepened, and Katrina’s hand fluttered faster over her swollen clit. She adored her boyfriend’s sore feet with her mouth, lips, heart, and soul.

He shifted and gasped on the bench. Accessing his dick by himself was impossible unless he was lying down and could angle his belly just right. Phillip needed her hand or mouth on his erection and needed it now. “Touch me,” he grunted, wheezing slightly with excitement.

Katrina needed no encouragement. The water cascading down his majestic rolls and the sloping, rounded mountains of his body eased her hand’s passage into his folds. He was achingly hard and as soon as her fingers touched his cock he began his version of thrusting: small, almost imperceptible movements in his hips. He moaned and spread his legs wider to ease her access, ironically only making his belly fall harder on Katrina’s arm.

The more she struggled with the weight of his wobbling gut, the harder he got. She had her face pressed into his belly, that warm paradise of softness that rivaled the clouds themselves. Her faint moans of pleasure almost tingled on his flesh, Phillip imagined the sound waves reverberating in his fat like ripples on a pond.

“Faster, my good girl.” He was so exhausted. Though he would rather have enjoyed himself at leisure, the training and the walk down to the bathroom were so tiring. Phillip was determined to build *some* stamina, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Katrina nibbled on his belly in response, and with one hand she stroked him, and the other, herself, with greater and greater speed. She rubbed her face on his gut, moaning luxuriously now as she got close to coming. “Phillip, baby, you’re so fucking fat! I love every damn inch of you!” Her tongue swirled around his navel, dipping into the deep chasm of his bellybutton.

“That’s my girl,” he panted, then seized the back of her head, forcing her face against his flabby gut. She could barely breathe, his dominance absolute in this moment. His voice dropped, became hoarse with need and power, “Scream when you come like a good girl. No one can hear you around my fat. You belong to *me*, my good little slut.”

“Oh God,” she wailed unintelligibly, muffled by blubber. Her wails became screams, just as he’d ordered, and her grip on his cock became almost painfully, deliciously, tight. His tiny thrusts began to shake his voluminous flesh, and he spurted into her hand with a wail of his own.

Phillip slumped backward against the wall, breathing heavily, with a huge smile on his tired expression. He loosed his hold on Katrina, and she curled against his well-padded leg with a happy sigh. For a minute or two, they relaxed in the pouring hot water and steam and caught their breath again.

Katrina looked up, over the vast mountain of his belly, and saw how weary he looked. “Aw, baby, you’ve had a long day. I’m so proud of you for working with the trainer,” she said with a fond caress of his hanging lower gut.

“I’m exhausted,” he agreed.

“Hey, tell you what,” Katrina said, getting back on her knees. “You just lay back and shut your eyes while I wash you. If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up and help you back to bed.”

“You don’t mind doing all this for me?” Phillip asked.

How could she reply? Every act of service she did for him was an act of love and worship for all of him, every not-so-little bit, fat body and big heart, clever brain and hungry belly. Overwhelmed, all she could do was hug as much of him as she could reach, and say, “Not at all, my love. Not at all.”