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The Interview Part 2
"The TV Guide! That’s a holy book around here,” he said, grinning, ”I’ll show you where it goes.” He led the way into a bathroom, dominated by what looked like an oddly shaped porcelain hot tub: high and wide, with a thickly padded rim covering most of the open top. Around its edge curved a grab bar, its well-worn chrome finish showing the brass beneath. I realized that I was looking at the largest toilet I’d ever seen. Above it, hung a powerful-looking winch assembly, painted the same red I’d glimpsed on Cain’s scooter. At a loss for words, I pulled out the magazine, and he smiled widely, ”You brought the new one – great! Here’s where it lives, and, believe me, Cain will make good use of it,” he said, pointing to a ledge attached to the toilet that box after box of well-thumbed food magazines, a TV remote and last week’s issue, falling apart from use. He dropped the old one into a wastebasket. "By the way, if you need to go, there’s another one that’s more your speed in there,” he said, and by then I actually did need to go to the bathroom. To my relief, everything in it was normal-sized, so I did what I had to do and rejoined Alex, now done cleaning. "Now we can shake hands!” he smiled, his huge biceps twitching as he shook my hand. "If Cain’s back inside, I’ll need this,” he said, grabbing a chain hanging from the ceiling above the toilet. I looked up to see a motorized winch roll along behind him, pulled on a track that led back to the kitchen, where Cain had made a huge dent in the food in the short time I was gone. "That’s an amazing…bathroom.” "Oh right, "he said, grinning, not fazed in the least, ”I forget that’s not what they all look like. Hey, Alex, you read my mind - I think I’m ready to take a break…” "Sure thing, big guy, ”Alex said, as Cain’s magic remote lowered half a dozen padded cables from the winch. ”Anyway, Kit, to continue the story, I was putting on weight, since I was able to eat whatever and whenever I felt like it. I tried getting back into at least doing some cardio - I think that lasted about a week. I found when I wasn’t eating, I was thinking about food constantly, and it was getting harder and harder to bear the hunger pangs. "By then, I could only manage a leisurely walk anyway – something kept slowing me down, ”he chuckled, his heavy second chin moving reluctantly to his chuckle. "Your stomach? ”I said, stating the obvious. "Well, it wasn’t Heavy Hands! I kept snacking more and more between meals, until I realized that I needed to eat more or less constantly – and I wasn’t interested in doing anything that kept me from that.” "I wasn’t the ‘top’ anymore. I let someone – something – else take charge. My appetite. And I was really aroused by what it was making me do. " "And before I knew it, riding this scooter was permanent,” he said contentedly, as Alex worked his way around the fat that Cain couldn’t move on his own anymore, laboring to lift his love handles to attach the cables somewhere under the scooter. They looked soft, but seemed unyielding, surrounded as they were by more fat – they couldn’t go anywhere else; even Alex, his huge arms gleaming with sweat, could only raise them a few inches. It was just enough to fasten Cain’s seat to the cables. Then, he pressed a button his own remote, and the slack in the cables disappeared as they were wound tight by the motor above. The cables disappeared too, into Cain’s soft flesh bulging out and around each tightening cable until the lard had almost swallowed them. Cain, clearly unable to do anything to help and beaming about it, was eating. "I was never full anymore – my appetite had stretched my stomach’s capacity so much that I never needed to stop eating. For three years, I’ve eaten every waking moment – 14 hours a day – digesting continually, even when I’m asleep. And what goes in…,” he grinned, looking at Alex, who took a bow. "This beauty here,” he patted his distended stomach fondly, ”means sitting on that custom toilet continuously at least four hours straight every day now, groaning out one dump after another. I used to spend four hours a day working out, but this routine is more…rewarding,” he chuckled. Then he shrugged, lifting those hypnotic boobs in the process, ”They say you don’t eat where you shit, but I don’t have that choice anymore either.” Alex, now washing the large collection of empty serving platters he had collected from around the room, put in,”Cain’s appetite means going without food for more than a few minutes now is out of the question for him, so the kitchen staff work in this satellite kitchen to keep him satisfied until he can leave the bathroom. I pinch-hit when they’re on vacation, along with helping Cain navigate the bathroom. And everywhere else, for that matter.” "Every day, there’s more of me, " Cain said,” and there’s less I can do by myself. Everything I need or I want to do has to be performed with at least one other person. I love that. It’s like the ultimate master/servant relationship, with my appetite in charge. "Sex is more of a challenge, too, but it has new rewards - like when these started growing. " All he could do was look down with his eyes until Alex held aside Kit’s second chin. Only then could he actually move his head to look down at the loaded t-shirt barely containing the chest he’d grown. "Around 450 pounds, they really started swelling. The bigger they grow, the bigger I want them to grow – and the rest of me, too. I want the fat now as much as I need the food.” He looked up at me, raising with difficulty heavy arms as thick as my thigh to about a forty-five degree angle, ”Would you do the honors? This is pretty much my range of motion now.” I tried to oblige, and quickly realized that, like Alex, I couldn’t reach him from the front – his gut put his chest far beyond my reach, so I slowly worked my way around his side and back, taking care not to get anything tangled in the cables. Finally, after gently untangling the shirt from that second chin, I got an amazing reward: Two of the largest boobs I’ve ever seen on a human being fell heavily onto the top of the stomach. Pure suet, each was a perfect volley-ball sized globe of suet. The aureoles, once small and brown, had been stretched tight over the inflated spheres they were made to ride, into huge pale tan circles. They constantly moved with their owner's breathing, rolling out to the sides and then inward again as he exhaled. To my surprise, I said, "They’re beautiful,” – and meant it. "Aren’t they? I can’t stop playin’ with ’em,” said Cain, sighing, as he gently lifted one with his hands and dropped it to watch it bounce obediently on top of his stomach, ”and they love the attention. Feel.” "To me, it looks like he’s grown his old bubble butt on his chest,” Alex said, and we all laughed – he was right, Cain’s cleavage was the size his ass used to be. Like Cain, I needed both hands to lift one, amazed by its heft and how soft and yielding it was. I saw the paler, slightly moist skin underneath, and, instinctively raked a raised scar on one of my fingers across it, excited to see him shiver with pleasure. I let it bounce onto his gut, and started kneading the fleshy nipple slowly swelling between my fingers, and he moaned in pleasure, playing with the other one; and together they formed a mountain range propped up by his gut, and the heavy chin pooled in the little space remaining. Now I noticed a chain, disappearing into his deep cleavage, and, curious, pulled it out. Attached to it was a small circular LED display that read 970 in red digits. He spoke to me quietly, eyes still closed, everything shaking to the vibrations of his voice, "960?” "Uh, 970, actually.” His eyes opened in surprise at that. ”Really? Then let’s celebrate,” said suggestively as he made the scooter haul his overflowing mass into the bedroom. He stopped at the foot of the bed, pivoting his scooter around; above, the winch rotated, too, and pressed a button on the all-powerful remote. Slowly, it started lifting him off the scooter. Alex and I waited, as first that enormous ass and then the sagging gut lifted off from the seat – and then stopped abruptly, swinging from the ominously creaking cables. "Darn – it’s another power cut. The backup generator will kick in soon – would you two bring in those sandwich platters? And please get yourselves a couple, while there are still some left,” he said with his charming grin. It took both of us two trips to bring back all the platters, and if I hadn’t learned some balancing skills as a waiter, it would have taken another one, too. Still, I knew they wouldn’t last long, as I handed him the first tray. As I did, I noticed above the headboard the most famous picture taken of him in his heyday: Cliff-diving nude, every muscle bronzed and bulging, enormous penis lifted in the wind, the very definition of movement, he had a beatific smile on his face. Slowly swinging in front of it was Cain now – or what I could see of him behind and beneath the stomach that he had become: hundreds and hundreds of pounds of sheer fat, from a meal that never ended, smiling that same smile as he devoured the sandwiches. It stayed as his head tilted back with pleasure, eyes closed. "A-h-h-hh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-hh-h-h-h” fffarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrttttttttttttttttttttt "Oh yeah,” he sighed with relief. "Sorry, man, that’s been building forever, and…well..that’s it really,”he said, smiling,”No choice.” Then, abruptly, the power kicked in – the cables jerked taut as they tried to move him back, but he was too heavy to be pulled very fast. They strained to pull him over the bedspread, those unused feet dragged along the bedspread, the ripples spreading across the mattress in its wake echoing the ripples across his gut – Cain had a waterbed. Cain was a waterbed, too… Once he was over the center of the bedspread, Alex carefully lowered Cain’s girth by unreeling the cables more this time. The stomach blubber held its high mounded shape, if a little tenuously, but there was a 6” thick eiderdown of fat that slid off to the sides like thick pancake batter, flaccid flesh undulating now with the bed beneath, beached along with its owner. Intuitively, I placed a platter to either side of him, his head now on a snowy white pillow. ”Thanks, Kit, you read my mind. Would you mind helping Alex so he can finish?” he smiled, and I began to see how Alex had gotten such muscular arms. It was all I could do to pull the cables and the seat free as Alex strained to hold back more of Cain, now most of the way through the first platter. He tried to reach overhead to a bottle of water on a shelf in the headboard just a few inches above him, but couldn’t raise his arm that high, and I had to hand it to him, while Alex pulled the winch back into the kitchen, the doors closing automatically behind him. I was starting to wonder if his idea of celebration was just more eating when he said casually, ”How’d you like to meet my cock in person?” This was more like it, and I didn’t miss a beat as I headed for his crotch. But a few surprises were in store for me first. "Take that,” and pointing to an forbiddingly large anal probe on a side table, and smiled as I took it in my hands. I couldn’t see why he’d want one, and then he clarified, ”The stomach keeps all of the blood to digest, and since it never stops, I’ve had to learn…persuasion.” "And it’s been a LOT of fun learning how the other half lives,” he said happily, pointing to a box in the open closet holding other, smaller probes, now gathering dust. "No choice,” he said, looking longingly at the probe in my hands, pinned down by the stomach which completely dictated his existence. Lifting the swag of fat with his cavernous belly button, I found his asshole, now a cushiony rosebud squeezed by the fat which curved out all around it. All I could see of the huge dick I remembered was the oversized, uncut head; it was half-sunk in the pubic fat that stretched his big shaved balls taut against it. The no-entry tattoo had been swallowed in fat. As I carefully pushed the undulating latex into him, I was rewarded with a huge tremor from the belly, which set the bed swaying again: "Push it in! Push it in!" Slowly I eased it in, inch by thickening inch, into his rapidly expanding asshole. "ahhh…ahhhhhh…ahhhhhhhhh…more….more….yesssssssssssss" I pressed the button to start the probe vibrating, and a gasp of pleasure rippled through him, as he lifted his head reflexively, only to be stopped by the waves of fat from his immovable gut. Stopped in his tracks, he had to lay back on the bed, now fondling his breasts and kneading the flesh within his limited reach. The probe did its job, and his penis grew a little. "Ye….ye…ye-s-s-s-s-s-s-s” "Now squeeze the shaft, no, harder, ahhhhhhhhyeahhhhhh… "Run your finger under the foreskin….yes, oh yesssssss” He was enjoying this, but after the first few inches I couldn’t get him any bigger, so I upped the speed of the probe. That seemed to be what was needed, and, it started growing faster now. With each increase in speed, it grew more, and his gut gurgled in response. He wasn’t kidding about the competition. "It’s getting harder… I can feel it…” he panted, as I realized that his gut blocked his view, too,” O-h-h-h-h, gawd that’s good.” To encourage him, I said, ”You’re lucky to have this to play with!” Quietly, he replied, ”I haven’t been able to touch it for years. I used to spend all afternoon jacking it. Sometimes I dream I still can.” "Hey, you’re slowing down on purpose! Why –," and then he realized what he’d revealed: The quivering flesh he had devoted his life to had returned the favor with involuntary chastity, making him a "needy” bottom in the truest sense of the word. Hot! So, with a big smile, I’d slowed our progress up to the probe’s highest speed, waiting until there was absolutely no more cock I could coax out before I turned the dial more. Panting with pleasure, all he could do was toss his head from side to side of his pillow, but when the heavy foreskin finally rolled back from the pink bell-shaped head, it was time to snap on the leather cockring that had been fastened on the probe. Even with the fat encasing the base, his penis was still beautifully oversized, as I s-l-o-w-l-y started pumping him with both hands, gliding the foreskin back and forth over the satiny glans, the probe throbbing deep inside his anus. Suddenly it spasmed in my hands, and he literally screamed in climax, able only to raise his head. Unable to move even a fraction of an inch, forced by his appetite to ride out his powerful orgasm beneath the heaving mountain of fat he had grown. Boobs quivering, he dug his nails into his bloated nipples and sobbed again and again in ecstasy as the flexing head of his cock was finally made to shoot its load as he was endlessly pumped. I smiled at him over his stomach, as I milked him as slowly and sensuously as I could, squeezing every drop out. We had both worked hard for this, and I wanted it to last. It worked: his climax seemed to pass in slow-motion. It was a while before the last twitches of his cock subsided, and even longer before his flesh calmed. Sweaty with release, his face red, his hands lovingly fondling his breasts and stomach, a relaxed smile now that another of his needs had been serviced for him, he smiled up at me and said,"When’s the photo shoot?” Source: http://www.bellybuilders.com/messageboard/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=8467 | |
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