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Old 25th January 2007, 07:37 PM
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Iggy Iggy is offline
Regular Big Gut
 
Join Date: Oct 2006
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X. The Aftermath

Paul’s phone rang the next day just before noon. Dave still sounded stuffed. “Boss. Dave here. Ooof . . . man.” Paul heard the pats as Dave tapped his belly on the other end. “So do I need to come in today? I’m totally wiped.”

Paul took pity at the sound of Dave’s voice. “Give it ‘til tomorrow stud. See you then.”

“You might have to come get me. Shoot. This thing is still pretty bloated. Don’t think it’ll fit in my truck yet.” Paul took a second to answer, picturing that.

“No problem. See you for breakfast.”

Dave groaned. More thumps. “Boss, I think breakfasts are out for me for a while. It’s gonna take some serious cutting back to get this thing to go down at least some. Man, I really can’t believe I got so damn big.”

“We’ll see about . . . we’ll see you tomorrow.” Paul hung up, feeling for him.

Paul arrived early to collect Dave, catching him not quite ready. The jock looked big as ever, though not as tightly stuffed as after the contest. His belly looked ponderous, though, most definitely inflated a notch more from the massive attach on its girth at the bar. Dave was moving slowly, and silently loaded himself into Paul’s truck. Paul fired up the engine and pushed a bag of doughnuts toward him.

“Oh, boss, not this morning. Seriously, it’s gonna take, what, like twice as long as it took to grow this thing to get it to shrink back down at least some?” He dropped his head back against the seat. “If this thing wouldn’t bounce up and down so much, I thought about hitting a treadmill today. Damn. I don’t think this bloat has shrunk much since the contest. I’m still too huge. Ooooof.” Paul understood the guy’s problem but at the same time he had to admit that he disliked the vision of Dave working off his whole belly that he had willingly (and, at first, unknowingly) grown over the past weeks. Dave placed a burly hand right on his sagging fat ledge.

“Eat at least a few.” Paul urged. “We’re working hard today and you can always start some diet another day.” Dave was too tired to protest, but he was eating halfheartedly at best. When they arrived at the site, Dave had only eaten two doughnuts. He also took little interest in the usual overloaded breakfast table set for the crew. Paul felt a little bad for Dave and his pity was mounting. He went easy on Dave as he issued instructions for the day’s work, especially when Dave set down his plate of food unfinished.


The room was nearly complete. As of yet, Dave had no answer about exactly what this project would be. It was just a huge finished room with a few long windows above eye level, connected to the room where Paul had been keeping all the food and a bathroom. There was a recess in the concrete just inside the sole outside door. Today they were to drop this large metal plate into the hole. It was a big stainless square, resting on springs encased in support tubes that brought it level to the floor. Dave tried to ask what it was, but everyone seemed to dodge the question. Dave just did as he was told, shrugging. As Paul readied to drop the plate in place, he left it leaning upright against the jock’s big belly. It was a fine sight--one that he was not about to give up. On cue, Dave tipped the heavy metal down, struggling some to move it around his ball midsection before securing its position. Paul fussed with some wiring, connecting it to a clock sized device that he screwed to the wall next to the door.

“There. Almost done except to test it. How about some lunch?”

Dave fought his usual urge to indulge. He felt fully hungry for the first time in months. “Yeah, okay. I could do a little bit of lunch I s’pose.”

Paul pretended to fume. But he still did not like his fattened jock talking about eating restraint of any kind. He disliked nothing more than a guy worried about portion control. The Feeder in him resented that kind of hesitation. He found it un-becoming, unmanly. Men should eat until they were stuffed. To him, that was a masculine rite of passage from a jock’s younger playing days to full manhood. “Dave, man, come now,” he said. “How dare you think you’re going to diet off all the work that went into this belly?!”

Dave was sulky from his treatment all morning. He definitely preferred feeling that he pleased his boss. Paul decided it was time to play on that again.

Paul went into the adjacent storage room and rolled out a hefty lunch, this time with a couple of pitchers of beer. “Dave, you did us damn proud yesterday. I think today, we knock off now and celebrate your victory.” He poured Dave a rather full mug of beer and clinked the pitcher against it in a toast. Dave was beaming again, and took a big swig. Paul got him talking about the contest win and the trophy that he had won, playing on the jock’s innate tendency to recount the winning plays the morning after the game. He did not push food. He worked on keeping Dave chugging beers, knowing he would soon be drunk on an unusually empty stomach. That stomach was large, though, and it took a quite few beers to see Dave’s buzz setting it. But in true fat jock mindset, Dave was not counting beers as calories, and he followed along ever more cheerfully. Paul kept him replaying the contest, and as Dave basked in his win, he started absentmindedly touching his gut once again. Dave had drained most of the second pitcher before he realized it, busy bragging about how he made Bruiser look like a loser.

Paul knew he could push at least a little food on Dave now. He started with one sandwich, and it went easily from there. “Better soak up some of those suds, there, Big Guy.” Dave’s resistance was completely down. He laughed and took the sandwich. “Yeah, good idea. Kinda feelin’ this beer a bit.” After two bites of the sandwich, Dave was inhaling it. It had become and had been the only way the guy knew how to eat. Paul kept him casually drinking and eating as they celebrated for the next hour. Before long, Dave refused to eat anymore, slightly drunk, rubbing his belly.

“Gosh, Paul. You got me going again here. I swore today would be the day I start dropping some of this gut.”

“Did you now?”

“Yeah, man. I mean shoot – look at me. I’ve become as big as a house, and now it’s noticeable, even for a guy my size.”

“Yes. Let’s look at you, Dave.” Paul moved a sheet of plywood to reveal a big mirror. He pushed another beer as they stared at his body. Dave put the glass to his lips again.

“I bet you could drain that thing in one go.” Dave’s fogged head did not fight and his jock side won out. He took the dare and pounded the beer in a matter of seconds. He checked out the sight of his belly as Paul heartily refilled his glass.

“Go ahead, put your hands on your belly, don’t be bashful.” His voice was low but intense. Dave obeyed. “Feel that big belly. Feel every fat, muscled inch of it.”

Dave was turned on. He grabbed himself as ordered, felt his giant belly anew, investigating its round bulge. Dave chugged the glass of beer again. He felt his belly swelling as he was loaded with beer. Dave’s head was beginning to swim.

“Now let’s check out that belly again.” Paul gestured for Dave to look himself in the eye. His gut seemed to fill the mirror. “See how that belly looks, Dave? You can’t tell me you don’t love that giant, fat belly you grew.” Paul himself thumped Dave’s ball, making Dave’s private grow tight against his pants. He fought to stay mute and not moan in pleasure.

“Just look at you. A total porker, and you earned it.” The jock was locked on his own image, carefully studying his own ball bellied mass for a few seconds.

Paul broke the silence and played his ultimate stroke to convince Dave to keep his belly. “Nothing has ever turned you on like this belly, has it Dave? So why would you want to loose it, any of it?”

Dave moaned despite himself and his shock that his boss had asked such a question. But he knew full well that this was true and looked back on the time how exciting he found his belly to be in its earliest beginnings. Now his excitement was mounting again at the recollection.

“You love being a big boy, don’t you Dave?” Heavy bounces punctuated each word.
Dave groaned louder.

Paul gingerly bounced Dave’s belly now, making Dave nervous as he now had a pulsing erection in his pants.

“Feel how fat you’ve become. Feel that belly for me.”

Dave’s hands flew to his gut. He had to feel the big ball too. He was rubbing his belly in amazement and ecstasy, hips almost rocking as if trying to **** his own belly.

“I bet you wonder just how much weight you’ve gained?”

A muffled affirmative.

“Want to weigh in and see?”

Dave looked confused, but nodded, eyes still locked on his giant image.

“Go step on that then.” Paul pointed to the plate in the floor. Dave did not want to tear away from the mirror. He wanted to get off right there. He lumbered over to the big square and stood at the edge.

“It’s a scale from the bathroom. Get on!”

Dave landed one foot and then the other on the plate and felt it spring under him. Red numbers flashed on the wall panel. Paul covered them with his hands before they stopped racing by. Dave steadied himself to stop the bouncing. He looked like a bull being weighed in at the farm. Paul peered behind his hand but would not let Dave see.

“So, Dave.”

“Uh huh.” Dave was tentative, though eager to know what he weighed. He thought back to his last 281 pound reading.

“What do you think that big belly has you weighing?”

“Man, I dunno.” It was clear that Dave was rock hard in anticipation.

“You feel pretty damn fat, don’t you.”

“Ooof. Boss, I told you, I feel huge, bloated right now too.”

“How huge?”

“Darn massive, man.”

“Hm. Guess.”

Dave studied his belly, lifting it at its front base to check its heft. He let it drop back into place, where it began to hang over his work jeans beneath his tucked in shirt. He clearly loved that feeling.

“Dunno. What, 325?”

Paul let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, heck no, big guy. You think all your eating only made you that big? Look at the size of that gut again.”

“More huh?”

“Heck, yeah. Guess again. What else have you been doing but working and eating like a man’s gotta eat, Dave?”

Dave’s tight private bounced at the comment.

“Umm. Okay. 330 then.”

Paul shook his head.

“340?? No way boss. Can’t be!”

Paul came closer to Dave, touching the front of his belly. “Just look how huge this thing is, even for you Dave. You were a big guy before, so your own dimensions still hide some of your girth’s weight, so one more try.” As Dave mused on the distance from his back to Paul’s hand, he looked over at the reading.

“What the hell!”

The red numbers blazed--347 pounds. Dave was nearly dripping. He had gained nearly 100 pounds. Paul turned Dave around on the scale so they could see him in the mirror. Dave’s head was spinning from beer, arousal, the full force realization of how incredibly big bellied he had grown. He felt himself reach under his belly and lift the front base beneath his navel slightly.

“So how much more are you going to gain?”

Dave dropped his gut, pulsing.

“Boss, Paul – I – I gotta cut back – Ooooooo. I’m too fat. Oh, man. Oooh. But feels good.”

Paul made Dave rub his belly more as he stroked.

“Admit it Dave, you love this belly you’ve grown!”

“Oh yeah. Oooh, Paul. That feels so good.”

Dave’s strokes quickened. He was transfixed on his gut, feeling it all over as he leaned back nearer to Paul.

Paul said something, but it went unheard by Dave. He was too close to erupting. His mighty legs were quivering and the manly belly now attached to his waist rocked heavily with his movements.

Dave almost involuntarily moaned again.

“I dunno ‘bout this gut, ooof. Oh, but this thing makes me feel so…so…” Dave was right on the brink of cumming.

“In my humble opinion, you look more full and handsome with the gut added to your profile.” Paul said.

“Yes – Ooooh, yeah. Heh, the fat.”

Dave could not take it any more. He was ready to erupt, staring at his belly, daring to picture himself even a few pounds bigger. He practically knocked Paul over as he convulsed at the thought of his growth.

“Paul, be right back—bathroom. The beer must’ve gotten to me.”

Not giving his boss time to respond and trying to hide his erection, he raced to the bathroom and slammed the door, his mind in frenzy. There was not a moment to spare. His private released his cum violently just as he reached a chair. He dropped to his knees after being drained, leaning forward on his ball belly.

Still panting from his orgasm, he sighed at the relief of it all and relaxed some. He looked down at the arc that rounded out from beneath his slightly sagging chest when he slouched on the chair. “Darn, what’s not to like about this big boy? How could any guy dread growing this?”

Even as his mind cleared, Dave subconsciously knew that he was probably going to live with his gut for the rest of his life, and it was inevitable that he was bound to gain more weight in years to come. The days prior to his gain were over; now he was a heavily bellied man—classic fat jock though he be—and he would just have to get used to it all in time. He was nuts at the thought.

He hoisted himself up and headed for the door, gut held confidently above his belt.

“Yeah, I’m gonna like this place.”

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There you have it! Hope you enjoyed.
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