Chapter 1 - Large launch

Klaus had heard it all. Every whisper, caution, friendly reminder, less-friendly warning, straight-up foul prediction. But he has long learned to brush them off. No matter what anyone said, he was healthy as a horse. A rather large horse, perhaps, one that wasn’t a stranger to buying from specialty clothes stores, or asking for a seat belt extender on a plane.

Admitting you have a problem is the first step in solving it. Klaus knew he was a large man. He knew that his gut had grown past dad bod territory, past beer belly plumpness and developed into a tank the likes the Venus of Willendorf would be jealous of. That first step was done. Completed. Almost impossible to fail.

But he was accustomed to it. He’d been this size for a decade. It felt right. It felt like him.

It was getting late, and like most evenings, Klaus hoisted his large frame into his modest car to score a meal after work. Traffic was smooth, pouring along like a thick liquid through a tube. The rain on his windshield was reminiscent of the sound of frying. Hot and fried. Exactly what he was looking for. Just before he could make the turn towards one of his usual spots, something intriguing caught his eye, something he was drawn to like white women to Taylor Swift. Like a fat man to a cheap restaurant. “SizzleBites diner” was written in white letters. “Opening today” in red. “Come here fatty” in invisible ink.

Two minutes later, a bulky figure pushed itself with some effort out of a car, took a quick respite, and sauntered over to the entrance of the establishment. He waddled past potted plants, red and yellow wooden chairs and exposed brick walls to nestle down in a comfortable corner. Barely enough time had passed to glance over the other occupants before a friendly waiter came bustling about carrying a menu for him to go over.

“Hello sir, welcome to SizzleBites, is this your first time here?”

Klaus looked up from the cluster of options beckoning him from behind a laminate prison.
“Um, isn’t this place brand new?”

The waiter grinned. “Sure is. But I gotta practise my lines early, I suppose. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

Leaning into his past eating experience, he ordered a beer and a strawberry milkshake. Ordering a main drink and a sweet drink was delightfully commonplace for him.


His server scribbled down the order in a notepad, and Klaus became aware of his nametag labelled “Bradley”.

“Coming right up! The milkshake will take a little longer” The waiter left him alone to peruse the aforementioned cluster. This place sure had a lot. What did he feel like today? Classic burger and fries? Lasagna? The Schnitzel plate? That last one called out to him with a megaphone, speaking a language he didn’t fully understand, yet was able to piece together the meaning: I’m yummy.

That was decided then. The Schnitzel plate, and a side of mac and cheese. He’d have to see if he would be in the mood for dessert afterwards.

Bradley delivered his beer in a tall glass, and stood waiting for the food order. Sometimes, when a big guy like Klaus orders two things to eat, he’d get a quick glance at his belly, accompanied by a “are you sure you should eat all that?” look. Bradley was certainly a professional, managing to peek down without seeming antagonising. Even his “I’ll get that right out for you” didn’t harbour any disapproval.

Klaus ate that shit right up. Although that kind of alienation had long stopped bothering him, the opposite tended to butter him right up. And as the chef buttered up his schnitzel, Klaus made himself fully comfortable and began slurping down his beer.

He knew he had made an adept decision coming here when his food arrived. Bradley, bless the boy, carried one massive plate piled up with fries, not one but three schnitzel, a two-person-meal sized tray with his mac and cheese “side”, and another enormous glass containing a hearty pink fluid and enough cream on top to drown a small hamster.

Watching the goodies placed in front of him with an open-mouthed stare, Klaus thanked his server, before taking one good glance at everything. Bradley smiled, stating that SizzeBites number one priority was ensuring every customer gets their hunger dealt with. Wondering how a place would be profitable selling this much food to these prices, and with a twitch of a metaphorical fat guy boner, Klaus dug in.

Immediately, it was palpable that this was good stuff. The schnitzel were crispy yet sodden with fat, pairing wonderfully with the ketchup. He switched to the fries, shoving a few of the golden delights into his mouth, those crumbs adding to the crumbs of breading already peppered into his stubble. Fuck, they were incredible as well. Eagerly moving on to the pasta, his gluttony boner throbbing, he scooped up a big chunk to stuff into his face. Gooey cheese mixed with the rest of the fries, carbs mixed with more carbs, Teeth chewed, hands moved, more food was added. More meat. Another forkful of fries. Down the remainder of the beer. Burp. Pull the tray closer. Klaus had years and years of experience. Chew. Swallow. More cheese. That experience wouldn’t go to waste. More fries. Grab the milkshake. Chug it. Go on fatty. He knew he could eat what he wanted and not get any fatter. Half was gone already. Still hungry. More. Somewhere along the ride his metaphorical boner had manifested into a real one, no doubt evoked by all this excitement. Keep it up fatboy, fill up. More noodles. Don’t forget to swallow. That rarely happened, but it felt good. Almost done now. Stomach straining to hold the mass. Stretching over a pile of energy in the form of fat, energy ready to course through his body.

And he was done. Breathing heavily and leaning back, Klaus adjusted a bit to give his body some relief. The wet spot on his dick lay hidden beneath his gut. Fuck that was good. He felt properly filled up, inflated and jiggly like a water balloon.

Klaus sat there for a few minutes, lightly massaging his belly and letting out air inconspicuously, wondering how easy it would be to stand up later. Until Bradley returned.

“How was the food?” He asked, gathering up one large plate and tray onto one arm. Klaus opened his eyes to glance up sheepishly. He feared that this evening, he had really made a pig out of himself. “Thanks, it was amazing. You’re gonna have to roll me home!” Maybe that joke was a little on the nose. Bradley took it well. “Glad you enjoyed it. Like I said, our top priority is that every customer returns home satisfied” he paused to smile, possibly at that corny line, maybe at Klaus’ expense. Perhaps just a genuine smile. “I’ll go fetch that dessert menu for you”

Klaus raised his eyebrows. Bradley had to be kidding. He was full. Stuffed. To the brim. Nope he wasn’t kidding. There he was returning with a purple card. Before Klaus could intervene, Bradley had laid it out in front of him, with a: “Here you go sir”

“Listen I-“ he huffed. “I’m not sure there's any room left for dessert.” To show he meant it, Klaus patted his distended, round tank with both hands, causing another burp to escape his lips. “Sorry” He quickly added, wanting to shrink back into his seat.

But Bradley’s face remained genuine as he chuckled. “There’s always room for dessert. Besides, since its opening night, everything on this menu is half off”

Bradley wasn’t understanding. He really couldn’t fit anything more. Even if he felt a tingle beginning anew down under. “No I…” He started, before trailing off. The tingle became harder to ignore. And Bradley’s expectant face sealed the deal. Struggling a bit, he leaned forwards to grab the menu and lazily ordered the first thing he saw on it. A slice of apple pie. Sounds good. “Great!” Bradley beamed. “I’ll get that right out for you” Klaus barely noticed the light touch on his shoulder as he was already back to nursing his overfull belly.

After a few minutes, he did feel a lot more confident in his ability to eat the pie. He was big Klaus after all! Clearer of buffets, largest guy in the office. Besides, he didn’t want to disappoint Bradley, who’d been nothing but a sweetheart to him. With footsteps approaching and revived vigor pumping through Klaus, he was ready.

Yet when Bradley leaned over and set an entire pie in front of him, topped with ice cream and melting butter, he was less ready. He must’ve added the “slice” mentally. Did he really just get served an entire fucking pie? What is going on here? Why was his waiter acting like this was a perfectly normal occurrence? Why the fuck was the tingling getting stronger? Why was he reaching for the fork?

Rock-hard, Klaus carved out a glob of ice cream, before marvelling at the aroma of french vanilla hitting his taste buds. Next he took a chunk of the crust, soaked in fat, delicious, warm fat. He was in awe at the flavours, greedily picking out the next piece, and then the next. But there was still so much left, and as crumbs and melted ice cream surrounded his mouth, and his stomach felt like it had literally been pumped up with air, he found himself thinking of Bradley. First slice done. How Bradley had treated him this evening. Second slice. How he seemed to want Klaus to finish his food. Third slice. Fullness fought against lust and gluttony. Fourth slice. Stomach against cock. Fifth slice. Klaus felt like he was walking uphill, each step another bite. Sixth slice. Further and further he trudged, sheer willpower carrying him along. Seventh slice.

One slice was left. One dastardly little slice. One out-of-breath fat guy struggling to get it down. One perceptive waiter making his way over, appearing as if he wanted to help out a customer.

Klaus was truly at his limit. Sitting back like a stuffed pig, minus the apple in his mouth, that had already wandered into his stomach. All he could do was breathe extensively, close his eyes, and hope it would get better. All the while ignoring his pulsing member, and the rush that he had experienced throughout the dinner.

“Is everything all right sir?” Fuck. Brought back to the present by Bradley's voice standing next to him.

But he dared not move. Not even look over. All that escaped him was a measley “I… I just need a minute”

Some movement. The sound of metal against porcelain. Moistness against his lips. And suddenly his penis screamed. Too weak to say no, too horny to say no, Klaus accepted the situation. He allowed this waiter to spoon-feed that last slice, bit by bit, morsel by morsel, each entering his mouth like a robber breaking into a house; forceful and deliberate.

Then the movement was over. He was done.
Cum was tainting his underwear the same way melted ice cream was running down his face.

He didn't question the amount he had just been served, made no note of Bradley's eagerness to have him filled up, and didn't worry about his willingness to comply.

Most of his thoughts huddled around the question of when he would eat here next.