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The Stranger and the Fat Man
Written by Doughtub, 2008
The fat man sat at his computer desk, completely naked – as he had been for over a year now. It had been sixteen months since he had outgrown all his clothes; four more months since he had stepped outside his cramped apartment. Going outside meant he would need clothing that would cover his ample flesh, as he had nothing that would wrap his skin completely. Even his bed sheets were inadequate at this time. Towels looked like washcloths, but he still managed to get away with tucking one under his enormous underbelly to hide little more than his delicate yet massive folds of fat on his thighs when his doorbell rang. The young delivery boy who dropped off his daily orders of greasy food was the only person who had seen the fat man since his body outgrew his fabric.
The fat man was trapped, yet hadn’t changed anything in his life for years now – his high-fat diet and lack of exercise had confined him to his bachelor apartment, but the thought of changing anything made the fat man unhappy. He had stayed inside, spending most of his day in bed – only getting up to receive the huge load of calories that arrived every day at eleven o’clock in the morning and to unload his overworked digestive system in the bathroom that he was quickly outgrowing as well. Everything else he needed was dropped off once a week at his door, followed by a loud knock. But every time the blubber-coated blob struggled to make his way to the door, the person who had dropped off the box of supplies was long gone. The man had no idea who was taking care of his needs, but he welcomed them gladly.
Today was the usual day the box was left for him, but since the time of the drop-up changed every week, all the man could do was wait. He had been sitting in his computer chair for six hours now, munching on pizza and triple-stacked burgers as he was mindlessly playing computer games. His fingers were plump, and had been making it difficult to hit the right keys on the keyboard – making his gaming frustrating and slow, but not enough to make him stop playing and do some form of exercise.
He stopped immediately and "rushed” to the door as quickly as possible when he heard the loud rapping of knuckles on his door. The twenty-foot distance would be easy for anyone who weighed six-hundred pounds lighter, but for him the distance was like crossing a desert. Slow plodding steps made by fat-swollen feet heavily stomped their way along the hardwood floors. His waddle had been getting difficult since his belly now hung like jelly over his legs, right down to his knees – a massive blob of lard that made it impossible to walk forward properly. Instead his gelatinous legs swung out to his sides, making steps that brought his swaying body forward a few inches at a time. His entire body sloshed around, throwing off his balance with every move. By the time he reached the doorway, his fat face was beet red and trickling with sweat – his straining heart pounding as hard as the knocking on the door had been.
He turned the greasy doorknob and swung the door in. He had to back up a few steps to make the box visible – his belly blocked a good four feet of view in front of him. The box was there, packed with soap, toilet paper, deodorant, zinc cream for his folds, and the usual envelope of cash that would allow him to order his precious delivery food for the week. The man grinned as he spotted a new videogame tucked into the supplies – along with a bundle of DVD’s that kept his eyes glued to the TV for hours on end.
With his arms supporting his weight on the doorframe, the man hooked the box with his right foot and dragged it into his apartment – bending over to pick the box up was to difficult to even bother. Once it was inside, he quietly shut the door behind him and proceeded to kick the box along the floor as he lumbered back to his desk. This way he could collapse into his straining office chair (he had removed the armrests long ago to let his fat pour freely off the sides) and then he could manage to lean over and lift the box up onto his queen-size bed and investigate his weekly rations.
On this day, however, the box was extra full and heavy. The excursion of moving it across the floor while trying to maintain his balance while he slowly waddled got him completely out of breath and gasping for air. The humidity outside wasn’t helping, turning his mammoth body into a giant furnace, while the workout of walking across a room made his muscles ache and his head spin. He never made it to the chair, and opted for the beaten down mattress instead.
He dropped to the bed like a boulder, causing the springs to creak and groan under the weight. A picture frame on the wall next to his computer desk fell from the wall as the room shuddered. He lay on his side, belly spilling off the side of the bed and hanging down to the floor. Catching his breath, the man began to reach his blubber-heavy arm out to the box and grasped the lip of the box with his fat digits.
The box was heavier than usual; nearly thirty pounds of goods inside, packed tight like the fat man’s stomach. With the box pressed close to his flowing flab, he reached in like it was Christmas morning. His fingers got hold of the video game – a newly purchased edition of his favourite: a God-mode game where he could control a world from the ground up. His mouth practically watered at the sight of it. He tossed it to the corner of the bed next to the computer and continued to unpack the goodies he had become accustomed to. DVD’s, bathroom supplies, an envelope packed with delivery menus and coupons for them… his eyes caught hold of a Party Pizza meal that would feed 32 normal people. A gurgling belch rumbled out of his greasy lips. The vibration set off a rippling wave across his unyielding flesh.
The next item was the envelope of cash, crisp and new. He fingered through the sizable bounty and grinned. He had no idea who would allow this to happen to him. He had virtually no will power, and when the first box appeared when he weighed five hundred pounds it had made him nervous. He hadn’t known what the box was, and out of fear he had just set the box aside the entire week. Then the next one appeared a week later. He again set the box aside. On the third week, the box had a note tucked into it. It was printed from a computer, and the letters filled the entire page.
USE IT ALL. THERE WILL ALWAYS BE MORE.
The words made sense to him in a way, but it raised so many questions in his food-ogled mind. The questions didn’t outweigh the goods in the box, however. After three months of the weekly present, he had quit his job at a fast food joint and began to live off the strange gifts. Food was covered, and so had his entertainment costs – with enough money for rent and emergencies, though none happened. They even had clothes in them, upping in size accordingly as he grew. He stopped leaving his apartment eventually, and soon the clothing supply stopped. As his 8XL clothes began to get ridiculously small, he started living nude. When he did this, he had no idea how much fatter he was getting, and by the time he decided to venture out to the movie theatre, he found his clothes wouldn’t even button. From that day on, he had become a prisoner in his own home – his guard was the mysterious man who dropped off his care package that kept the fat man pampered and well fed.
He could have exercised, ordered a dumbbell set or something from online, but he instead programmed all his favourite delivery restaurants on speed dial and lived for the food. Now he was feeling drained all the time, not even enough energy to care about his growing health problems. His heart pounded, his head felt light after minimal activity, and his muscles ached under the growing stress of gravity. He was a wreck, and he loved it. He was taken care of, although he was feeling lonely as his friends were all on the TV and on his computer.
As he rummaged through the bottom of the box he found something that made his heart skip a beat – clothes! The tags had been cut off the shirt and pants, but the tent-sized garments looked like they would at least partially cover his blob of a body. A note was pinned to the size 15XL jockstrap that barely even resembled what it was. It was a massive piece of 2 inch wide elastic that had a giant cut of fabric hanging from it and thin elastic pieces three feet long attaching back to the main loop of stretchy material. An enormous wife-beater tank top was also in the box, along with a single pair of grey sweat pants that looked too small, but luckily they were stretchy as spandex. He found himself excited at the discovery, but soon wondered why. He surely couldn’t make it much further than the hallway, let alone get outside the building. But he was excited none the less.
He snatched the note off the jockstrap and read it aloud.
MORRISON FAMILY BUFFET
TOMORROW – 5PM
The words were bold and demanding. Could he finally get to meet the stranger who had turned him into such a helpless ball of fat? Could he survive the trip to the buffet that sat only two blocks away? Did he want to ruin the secrecy of the situation?
He lay there, staring at nothing as he pondered it all.
There was a sudden loud knock on the door. The man was startled, and struggled to get himself off the mattress. It proved very difficult, and by the time he got himself up to a sitting position, he was glistening in sweat and panting like a dog that needed a drink of water. With a loud groan, he pulled himself up from the bed and felt his lard shift into its standing position, hanging low and heavy from every part of him. With slow, plodding baby steps, the man made his way back to the door as fast as he could manage.
Swinging open the door, he was surprised to find a new delivery boy standing on the other side – his face warped in a look of horror at the naked blubber ball in front of him. The man couldn’t speak as he tried to catch his breath. The boy thought the disgusting mess of a man would drop dead any second.
"Jesus…” the boy managed to sputter as he took in the sight.
"I… what… Can I… uh… ohhh…” the man huffed as he felt his head spin and his body drip sweat.
"Fuck man. Lose some goddamn weight. I hope all this food isn’t for you…” the boy said, nodding his head to the side at the stacks of pizzas he had rested on the hall floor. Ten plastic bags with buckets of fried chicken accompanied the meal.
The man felt a burp erupt from his belly. He let it out in one loud rumble, which made the boy step back with a look of pure shock in his eyes. Against his will, the man felt another belch rumble out, this time from between his gelatinous ass cheeks. His blushed, or, he would have if his face weren’t already glowing red from the excursion that had brought him from his bed.
"Get some help,” the boy muttered as he walked away, tossing the pre-paid receipt in one of the bags of fried chicken.
"Fuck you,” was all the man could manage to say as his mouth watered from the delectable smell of his greasy meal.
The boy didn’t look back, just raising his middle finger to the man as he trotted away. The man took a deep breath and heaved his weight forward, bending his waist as much as it would allow. His fat folded into deep crevices and he managed to grab the handles of most of the bags. He slid them around into the apartment, and then slowly arched himself back upright to let himself breath for a few seconds before hauling the rest of his food inside.
After ten minutes of bringing the munchies to his bedside, he sat back into his chair and rested for ten more minutes. Not too long, though, as his food was cooling with every passing minute. He had grown to love how the fried chicken and hot pizza would drip grease as he ate, sending orange splatters of oil onto his soft white fat. It was his sex now. He had long outgrown his reach to his buried dick, and he found the only way to get his tiny head to burst with cum was to pack in the fattening treats. The feeling of the grease was just part of the whole process of his new sex – it dripped and drooled lightly on his blubber, sometimes trickling down his massive tits, tickling his stretched out nipples. The thought of digging into all the food made his cock perk to life and his asshole to contract in pleasure. He needed the food inside him.
The sudden introduction of food made him forget about the box, and the one remaining item in the bottom of the box – a twelve inch long vibrator. It sat at the bottom of the box as he pushed in a couple dozen pounds of food into his greedy belly. It would be a day before he managed to wake from his food coma and discover the sex toy waiting for him.
He had woken up to the sound of honking cars outside his building. A wedding party was driving by, and the celebration made the man snap to attention as he found himself still sitting in his chair – empty boxes and bags scattered on the floor around him. He needed to piss, and empty his bowels badly. He spent the next twenty minutes in the bathroom, sitting on his cracked toilet seat, groaning and pushing like he was giving birth.
After taking a shower in his cramped tub, he inched his way back to the chair. He glanced at the box and noticed the vibrator for the first time. He felt his cock stir to life again as he thought of shoving the rubber toy up into his ass. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to reach back far enough to push the toy deep enough through his ass crack to even reach his wanting hole. He decided the best option would be to set the vibrator on his chair, lubing it up with the tub of Vaseline he kept at his desk to moisturize his rolls.
After several strenuous attempts to target the right part of his ass crack, he sat down heavily and hollered out as the foot long cock rammed up through his blubber butt and punched through his hole inside of him. The vibrations sent his entire body into a state of pure ecstasy. As he sat with his arms bouncing limply to his sides, he started to get worried as he felt the toy drive itself deeper into himself under his own weight. He came when he felt the bottom of the anal probe slip into his hole, sealing up behind it.
Cum oozed out under his belly, soaking into his chair’s padded surface. He was huffing and puffing from the intense feeling, but could feel the rubber dick continue to tickle his prostate and stir his balls. He knew he was going to have some trouble, as the toy lodged itself deep inside, his asshole tight, locking it inside of him.
The phone rang.
The man struggled and finally reached the greasy phone.
"Hello?” the man asked, flinching in pleasure at the vibrating tool working inside of him.
"You have five hours – the buffet. Be there.”
The man groaned out loud before he heard the other line click to silence. He hung up the phone and felt his balls heave again, sending a smaller spurt of cum out into thick folds he couldn’t see. He had a feeling today would be the day that would change the rest of his entire life. The man on the other end of the phone was demanding, stern, and sounded very firm. His venture out into public was going to test his abilities, and with the toy fucking his insides he knew it would further test his limits. He wasn’t sure if he’d even survive the trip down the block, but he wanted to meet the man who had made him so damn fat.
At four o’clock, the man had managed to pull on his jockstrap and sweat pants – which clung to every roll and bulge, while not covering the top foot of his ass crack. He looked pathetic – but it brought a grin to his fat face. Next, he pulled the thin fabric of the tank top over his torso. The cotton was so thin and stretched that his nipples were easily visible, along with his bellybutton. The shirt didn’t manage to cover much further down than his navel, leaving two feet of pure lard dangling out over his pants, jiggling and swaying with every move. Watching it all in his full-length mirror, the man came once again, the vibrator pulsing heavily in his bowels.
By four-thirty, the man was waddling down the stairs in the hallway, making his way down to the entrance. Several tenants came in and had to wait for the bulk of lard to get the entire way down the steps, as his body took up the entire five-foot wide stairway. They all gave him glares of disgust as he pondered by, soaked in sweat, making his shirt even more see-through. He felt like a waste of space, and in turn, he felt so turned on.
At the front entrance, he stopped and felt a surge of fear come through his nerves. It would be the first time outside in years. He hadn’t been further than he was now, and he could turn back and struggle to get back to his home without pushing his body too far. Then again, he could just as easily push the door open and make his way to the buffet. The stairs weren’t something he wanted to climb again, anyways. He wasn’t even sure how he’d get back home after the buffet. He’d be too full to move, let alone go upstairs.
"Do it,” he told himself, and pushed the door open.
The sunlight was harsh. It felt immediately hot on his stretch mark-covered skin. He felt his body pour out more sweat. He began breathing heavier and started to make his way to the buffet. Two blocks. The most exercise he’d had in many years. His muscles were already throbbing, including his asshole as it pulsed with the stuck rubber cock inside. Despite himself, he would moan deeply every couple steps as he felt the toy jiggle around, moving slightly with each heavy step.
One block in, he stopped to catch his breath. The busy intersection seemed to pay full attention to the massive sack of fat as he rested. Cars slowed down. People on the sidewalks looked like a shocked crowd in a Mel Brooks film. It was immensely embarrassing.
After letting the stoplights cycle ten times, he made his way across the crosswalk. A waiting car honked its horn and the driver snorted out his window like a pig, mocking the beast of a man as he lumbered past. The cars had to wait as the lights turned green, as the man was still struggling to waddle onto the sidewalk. He felt the sweat soak through his pants along his ass crack, and felt the cool wetness of his shirt shift and pull with every tiny step. He looked ready to collapse.
It took fifteen more minutes for the man to make his way to the buffet. What waited for him made his heart sink. The buffet was closed – gone completely – and had been replaced by a gym that offered an entire street view with floor-to-ceiling windows. Inside, the gym rats stopped and stared. One beefy man dropped his dumbbell and looked like he was going to vomit. One woman left her exercise bike and hurried off, looking sick. A huge muscular man began laughing with his workout partners. The gym was staring at the man, every single member locking eyes with the man.
The man was dying to sit down. He was starving. He was hot. He needed help. There was no way he would be able to make it back home without help. But there he was, standing alone, made a fool by every fit person inside the former buffet. He felt tears surge into his fat-squished eyes. He was hopeless.
He was about to turn around to try to make it back home when he locked eyes with a man doing squats on one of the machines. He was staring back at the fat man like he knew more than he was letting on. A slight grin crossed the muscular man’s face. His eyes were intense, gazing hungrily at the obese blob in front of him. The fat man stared back, scared and all alone, waiting for the next move to happen.
The man in the gym continued working out for five more minutes, making the unhealthy mess of flab wait outside as he pumped his sculpted leg muscles. The fat man watched him as he worked out, his buried tiny cock head throbbing – the fuck toy wriggling in his hole. The man inside stepped off the machine and pulled off his shirt, revealing abs and firm pecs – along with swollen muscular arms and legs. His neck was wider than his head, thick with muscles. He stood there flexing in front of a mirror, looking at the pathetic flab pile in the background of the reflection.
The man posed and flexed for the pig outside. He watched the fat man’s face grow red and watched as the blob swayed, then took in the look on his hog’s face as it clenched in an orgasm that he knew was happening out on the sidewalk. What he didn’t expect was the blubber ball’s knees buckling during the orgasm, sending the nearly half-ton body crashing in a jiggling mess to the pavement.
Several people inside gasped and stared, but the muscular man quickly and quietly left the room and went outside to lend the weak slob a hand. He pulled the obese pig to his feet and helped him waddle his way around the side of the gym to his waiting cube van. He wrenched open the back doors and forcefully shoved the fat man backwards inside. The shocks groaned in the van, and the entire vehicle sunk low on its wheels. The man then took the fat man’s useless legs and lifted them into the van before slamming the doors shut behind him. The fat man passed out instantly.
The fat man awoke in a waterbed in a bedroom he’d never seen before. He had an oxygen mask strapped on his soft face and could feel tubes in his throat. Looking around, he felt heavier than ever. His mind was foggy, and he couldn’t even lift his arms. The waterbed hugged his massive piles of flab, sinking in so deep that it would be impossible to heave himself up, or even roll over.
The door across the room caught his attention when he heard a familiar knock on the other side. The man from the gym walked in with a pushcart piled high with fast food. He wore a grin, and nothing else. He was hard, with a cock that matched the vibrator that the fat man suddenly remembered from his trip outside of his home. The man walked over to the immobile hog in front of him, a wave of greasy scent moving in with him. The fat man’s mouth watered. His cock perked to life. His heart began pounding, and his stomach rumbled loudly.
The man leaned in close and whispered in his husky voice. "Let’s get those feeding tubes out, and do this the old fashioned way.”
The man winked at his captured blubber boy and grabbed a tub of mashed potatoes smothered in butter and gravy and tipped it up to the fat man’s lips to give him a taste before gently removing the feeding tube he had inserted into his slave weeks ago. In replace, he tipped the bowl of sloppy mush up and sent thousands of calories pouring down the hog’s throat.
"Taste good, piggy? Good. Because from now on you’ll be packed with tons of this shit,” the man grinned and smacked the fat man’s enormous belly, sending off waves of jiggling lard.
The fat man grunted between swallows as his cock shot a thick load of cum out into deep rolls, his eyes locked with the cold eyes of the man who had made him this way.
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