Chapter 1

Content warning: light humiliation, mild immobility, sexual content, language

Tyler stepped into the apartment, immediately comforted by the smell of soda, fast food, and sugary desserts. He grinned, putting the two extra-large pizzas down on the counter near him and bringing the colas to the fridge. If he got his way, it would be a little bit before Jason started eating.
“Tyler?” Jason’s voice called from the bedroom, and Tyler smiled. He still wasn’t used to Jason not getting out of bed to greet him. He stopped that a few weeks ago, complaining about back and knee pain.
Tyler turned down the hall and went into Jason’s small bedroom. There, on the double bed, taking up nearly the whole mattress, was Jason. Tyler’s secret pig.
Jason’s belly hung halfway down his thighs, swelling up to the point where it looked like a small mount. Even though Jason wasn’t wearing any underwear, his small penis was hidden underneath his gut flap. His arms were the width of Tyler’s legs, his legs nearly as thick as Tyler’s torso. His massive boobs sagged down his stomach, and his rolls were piled and piled thickly down his middle. He had stretch marks covering his belly, chest, arms and thighs like red scratches. His smiling face was surrounded by fat, cheeks and chins merging into a massive lump just above his chest.
Tyler sucked his breath in. Every time he saw Jason, he instantly grew erect inside his pants. Tyler was a sporty guy, nearly the exact opposite of Jason in every way. He was tall, trim, with the slightest etchings of a six pack showing on a tanned flat stomach.
“Hey, fatty,” Tyler said, walking up to Jason and laying a hand on his belly. Jason grinned, reaching a chubby hand on top of Tyler’s. “You been eating well?”
“Always,” Jason said, trying to hold his laughter in. “But I’m pretty starved. You brought food, I assume?”
“Of course,” Tyler said, his smile growing wider. “But you gotta walk for it. I wanna see how much you struggle.”
Tyler stuck his arms out, and Jason strained just sitting up to grab Tyler’s hands. His stomach started to get in the way of his sit up. He felt his lungs take in a deep breath and his heart begin to pound. Tyler grabbed one of his massive legs and helped him swing it off the bed.
“We gotta weigh you, fat boy,” Tyler said, pulling on Jason’s arms to help him stand. Even with his gym-toned arms, they began to cry with the sheer weight of Jason’s body. Jason tried to help as much as possible but his leg muscles started to creak underneath the weight of his gut. Tyler pulled the homemade walker to Jason’s hands. It didn’t roll, but it was something he could lean on. Tyler walked easily over to the scale. They had recently had to buy a bigger one after Jason cracked 450.
Jason waddled his way over to the scale, and Tyler grabbed his sides to help him stand on it. Jason lifted one of his massive legs to stand on top of it, followed by his other. The number fluttered quickly to 500, then 503, 515, 517, 516, 517. It stopped, flashed rapidly at 517.6, then stayed still. Tyler slapped Jason’s back, watching the ripples around it. A little bit of Jason’s ass crack showed from underneath his huge boxers, and Tyler slid a finger across it.
“Goddamn,” Jason said quietly. This was his biggest, right here. He was officially two hundred and eighty pounds over his starting weight. He had always been a big guy, even when he met Tyler.
They had met in college. Tyler slid into a booth beside Jason one day, after Jason had stuffed his face with a burger and a pizza. Tyler had laid a hand on his stomach, bulging against the fabric of his shirt, and said, “You wanna get bigger, fat boy?”
Tyler started buying him food almost instantly. Jason weighed around 280 at that time, gaining on his own from 200 at fifteen. He had always been one of those kids you just knew was gonna be fat. By the time he finished college, he weighed around 320. He got a desk job, staying in the city for Tyler. He started packing on more weight. Every day, Tyler came over to his house and brought him fast food, pizza, soda or other junk. Tyler cooked sometimes too, usually desserts or things he could add lots of butter or lard to. Portions got bigger and went down quicker into Jason’s rapidly expanding belly. By the time he weighed 400, moving became an issue. He quit his job and laid around eating all day, eventually moving from the couch to the bed. Tyler came in every day still, bringing him all the food he could ever need. Tyler’s wealthy family helped him pay Jason’s bills. They had never met Jason, and Tyler never encouraged Jason to come over to his house. When Jason asked why, Tyler said, “You’re my secret pig. Why would I want anyone in this world to see your fat face except me?”
The two never officially dated. Tyler had a few girlfriends on and off, even bringing one over to meet Jason. Jason knew Tyler was just his buddy, and his feeder. For both of them, the sexual component was swallowed by the need to make Jason bigger. Eventually it started becoming a game. If he could gain 30 pounds in the next two months, Tyler would buy him some expensive, unhealthy dessert loaded with carbs and sugar. This was more fun.
Sure, the occasional sexual thing came into play. Jason was messing around one night, playing with his belly, and went down to jack off. He found his hard-on buried in flab, beneath his stomach and fatpad. He tried to weasel his hands around, desperately trying to touch fingers to cock, but just couldn’t. He called up Tyler immediately and asked him to come over to see for himself. Tyler did.
“What a *** you are,” Tyler said, his smile wide and showing plenty of teeth. “Too huge to even get off. Has to call for his friend to jerk off for him.”
Jason got even harder underneath his blubbery belly. His face twisted in the pain and pleasure. Tyler, of course, did what he asked, but only after the second pizza of the night.
Jason found himself thinking about that today, as Tyler helped him waddle to the kitchen. His thighs rubbed together and made a swish-swish sound as he walked, his knees screamed under the weight of his body. Even leaning on the homemade walker, he had a hard time. But God it was so hot. He eventually managed to flop onto the couch, out of breath. The couch creaked under his weight. There was a permanent print from Jason’s large ass being snuggled it against it for so many hours playing video games.
Jason lay there, his fat body just slightly wider than the couch. Tyler put the pizza box on the table beside him and then sat on the floor in front of the couch, a hand on Jason’s belly. “Eat, ***,” Tyler said.
Jason obliged, taking slice after slice of the extra large pizza and cramming them down his throat. After he was finished, Tyler brought over the second pizza and a two-litre bottle of cola. Jason ate half the pizza before looking at Tyler with pleading eyes. Tyler fed the rest to Jason, forcing him to take large swigs of soda in between bites. They then sat beside each other and played a round of Mario Kart. Jason complained the soda was giving him gas and that’s why he was losing. Tyler laughed and put a hand on Jason’s belly for a quick rub. He got quiet for a minute, and then said, “Jason… should I gain too?”
Jason looked at Tyler, who was now sitting with a hand against his lean belly. He imagined Tyler’s sporty waistline swelling, his pants getting tight, his chiseled jawline getting buried in a layer of soft fat. Even the thought made Jason’s dick firm up. He put a hand against Tyler’s, pressing down into that firm belly, and said, “I don’t think there would be anything better in this world.”