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Phil MacSchtomock was a feeder. He saw it as his calling in life. As an admirer or male amplitude in the extreme, Phil had devoted much of his young adulthood to the identification and fattening of strapping young men. He had a knack for detecting susceptible hunks on the verge of chunkiness who only needed the right amount of male encouragement to slip into chubhood; men who'd been fighting the battle of the bulge for years and were eager to surrender. Within a year he was able to turn each man's life around, leaving them considerably bigger and more satisfied than they'd ever been. It was very easy for Phil to meet men. He had looks money and, most importantly, an ability to make any man he met feel like he was intensely interested in him. He saw himself not only as a builder of big men, but of self-esteem, and in most cases he was right. Nearly every one of the chunky boys that Phil dated wound up snagging more solid boyfriends within two months of their time with him. They came across so assured and sexy from his encouragement that they couldn't help but catch the closet fat admirer's eye.
There were exceptions, of course, the most notable being one Jack Binge. A three-hundred-plus pound Olympian who'd been one of Phil's earliest conquests. Jack was unable to get passed his initial infatuation with the dashing young feeder. Instead of going out to find a replacement for his fattening lover. the man brooded. He moped and ate for nearly four years, doubling his weight from his final days with Phil, fantasizing about a time when he got him back in his fleshy arms. It was futile, but he wasn't able to stop himself.
He spent all his spare time watching MacSchtomock as he went from conquest to conquest. Misery pervaded his mammoth gut. Jack both resented and loved him, torn between thoughts of vengeance and a yearning to have him back. One day, spilling his Smarties by a paperback rack in a local drugstore, he found the means to satisfy both desires.
Between a selection of frothily rendered nooky novels was a strangely anachronistic title, a psychedelically decorated book entitled Fast Magic (author unknown). Though he typically disdained such low rent occult fare, the obese young man found himself purchasing the book anyway. As so many of his generation, his attitude towards magic had been tainted by years of television; a childish part of him wanted to believe that he could learn to cast a spell that would positively change his life. He bought the book telling himself it was just for laughs, but the more he got into it, the more he was caught in it's magic. Scanning the whole volume over dinner, Jack found what looked to be the perfect spell for his needs. He memorized it then returned to watching MacSchtomock, waiting for the moment he ended his newest relationship.
That spring, Phil was again free, having just bid adieu to an inflated young grocery clerk whose new pulchritude had recently inspired his employer to start making overtures. It had been a successful relationship, the feeder thought; a gain of 180 pounds that really looked good on the boy's 5'7" frame. While he personally would have been willing to go on longer to see how much farther he could take him, Phil knew to take advantage of those occasions when one of his projects felt ready to leave on his own. There were plenty of available men to work with, he thought.
As if to validate that belief, he bumped into his newest project the very next day of his break-up. Pushing his cart through the produce section of his supermarket, he met Mario reaching for the same bottle of salad dressing. His muscular arm was graced with the slightest hint of incipient chubiness; when he followed it to the rest of him, he was stunned to see a male form so ripe that it defied believability. Packed into a lightweight tank and shorts, his stocky physique was incredible topped by a strong-jawed face that was poutingly innocent. He smiled and offered Phil the jar. It was buttermilk dressing, he noted with approval, and quickly introduced himself. His name was Mario LaPissa, an exchange student from Italy at the local university.
They went out that night to one of his favorite restaurants, so Phil could assess Mario's appetite and ability. Wearing a sleeveless tee-shirt that nicely framed his solid full pecs and well muscled shoulders, the young student looked delicious. They sat by the salad bar and he was heartened to see him loading up his plate with high calorie items. When Mario got up to his fourth helping of salad, Phil was hooked. This was a man with an already prodigious appetite; under his tutelage, he could reach wondrous levels of corpulence. It had always been his dream of Phil to make a man so massive that he was unable to move. While part of him knew this was little more than a fantasy, the thought was enough to get him hard under the table. He just had to get to know Mario better.
The next six months he spent whining and dining his new lover every chance that he got. As he'd observed the first night, he had an infinite ability to consume everything that was placed in front of him. Their meals got longer and richer, as Phil worked to encourage the sexy student's growth. He smiled happily and accepted his encouragement. The only trouble was: he didn't grow.
Phil didn't understand it. Mario was gorging himself on meals that would make a sumo wrestler bow, but not an ounce of it showed on his well muscled frame. He had an almost supernatural metabolism that seemed to burn off every extra calorie that he devoured. He'd never seen anything like it!
He decided to up the stakes. They were seated in a Greek restaurant and Mario was making his way through a fifth plate of gyros. "Mario," Phil said chewing on a black olive, "I really enjoy being out with you."
"Me too, Phil," he answered in his lightly accented voice, a trickle of sauce oozing between his strong fingers. "You really know how to treat a guest in your country."
The only thing is, he continued, I don't know how long I can keep seeing you.
Mario watched and ate and let him speak, his cheeks bulging with gyros.
"I'm attracted to a specific kind of man, he said, one somewhat more Rubenesque than you. I've always been this way, and I'm afraid there's no changing my preference. I've tried, just to be with you. To be honest, the only way I've been able to make love with you is to imagine you bigger. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."
Mario licked his fingers thoughtfully, then gestured to their waiter. "You want me to gain weight for you," he said as he prepared to make another order, "I'll grow fat for you." Phil's heart soared.
Phil watched him eat until closing time. It almost seemed as if his stated decision to gain weight was being realized before his very eyes. Mario was definitely straining against the seams of his clothes as they left the restaurant, his rounded butt bouncing slightly as he walked, the once flat belly pressing incessantly against the fabric of his shirt, his chest swelling fuller, stretching the shirt to the ripping point. He drove to the cabin by the lake frequently stealing glances, appreciatively taking in the way Mario's thighs spread against the seat and the way his chin had become fuller. He could barely wait to get him undressed.
Phil hustled Mario into the bedroom. Mario pulled his shirt over his head, and as he did, it was as if he'd also lifted all restraint off his body. Noticeably thickening before him, Mario stood provocatively, tracing the love handles at his sides, pressing his round belly in to let it push back authoritatively, wedging his fingers between his widening thighs. He looked fantastic! His chest had lost some definition and had grown and his cheeks had become more prominent. "Do I look good to you, Philip?" he asked in a deep voice.
MacSchtomock answered by tearing his clothes off and pushing Mario down on his king-size bed. He didn't understand Mario's sudden ability to add weight so quickly, but if he was able to pudge up like this in the space of one evening. What could he do in six months? The possibilities got him stiff and eager. He looked down at Mario, at the start of a second chin line, at the chest that was bigger than before, and inserted himself into Mario's eager manhole. "Yes," he gasped, "you look wonderful to me!"
"Ah," my friend, he chuckled, "but wouldn't I look even better if I was much bigger?" Mario Lifted and locked his strong legs around Phil. "Like this?"
To Phil's astonishment, Mario's chest ( the nipples of which were in his palms) began to fill his hands and push against him. He watched as they flowed out under his forearms and out to the sides. Then he felt the pressure building against his belly: Mario's waist was disappearing as his torso began to balloon beneath him. He felt his thighs thicken and surround him, felt the swelling of his ass cheeks as they grew and enveloped his dick. He was growing huge beneath him by the second: his face getting softer and neck growing thicker, his shoulders and arms were enormous and his elbows were dimpling. Finally he enlarged so much Phil was lifted completely off the bed. He continued to expand until he almost completely covered the bed.
"Have I gotten big enough for you now?" he asked from beneath Phil. As he struggled to take in Mario's massive body he was reminded of the stories he'd read of a 1000+ pound man who'd become so huge that he was unable to leave his bedroom: Mario appeared vaster still than that famous elephantine man! "I can hardly move!" Mario whispered excitedly.
That was the final gallop. His fantasies realized, Phil was ready to shoot every last drop he had. Riding atop Mario's immensely inflated torso, sinking happily into this mountain of masculine fat, the overwhelmed feeder wished he could stay this way for ever, but his dick had another idea.
Just as he was about to come, Phil felt an insistent dick pushing at his own anus. Being locked into position and surrounded by a pair of enormous legs and lost in his revelry, the pressure at his ass only heighten his passion. Then, he felt a distracting tingling sensation. Before he could determine its source a surge of warmth began to flow into his belly and through his body. Momentarily dazed, he re-focused his attention on the massive man beneath him. Appallingly, the enormous Mario was rapidly deflating.
It took several seconds to figure out what was happening to all that divine fat that had been beneath him. A sudden pressure at his belly and between his legs were the first signs that the night's marvelous accumulation wasn't going to simply disappear.
He held his hands before him and saw his once slender fingers start to swell and fatten, felt his face as it started to round and bulge. every ounce of fat, every roll and bulge that grew on Mario was flooding into him!
He struggled to pull himself away from the grinning demon that had ensnared him, but it was no use. It all happened too fast. He was expanding like a water-filled balloon. Philip felt himself swelling to mammoth proportions, his companion disappearing under his spreading tonnage. Then he could no longer feel Mario beneath him. He remained face down on the bed, panting , his arms floundering helplessly at his sides unable to support his new weight. His blimp-like belly so big he couldn't even rest his head on the pillow. He struggled to get to his knees but the hang of his belly squeezing out from under him pushed against his thighs. What had happened to him? Where was Mario?
"I'm over here Phil," the deep voice said happily. "I'm just chatting with Jack, he watched the whole scene." He strained to get a look at the cause of his unnatural ponderousness, but his overgrown shoulder got in the way. Phil had never felt so helpless in his life, a moan of frustration escaped his lips. He felt two pairs of hands on his side working to roll him over. "Good thing I'm here, two human men couldn't move your boyfriend's bulk by themselves. You've got over 1200 pounds here!"
"Twice my weight," Phil heard Jack's familiar voice saying. "Mario, that was the most incredible thing that I've ever seen. How did you manage to store so much fat in six months?"
"Well," Mario said with an impish grin. "After Philip was finished stuffing me I got so excited I filled myself up even more between our dinner dates, and voila, there's the results!"
Human men? Phil mused.
He would have pursued that last thought further, but at that moment he noticed Jack, who was backing away from the bed, his body barely fitting through MacSchtomoch's extra-wide doorway. When they'd split, Jack was only half the size he was now; he looked gorgeous! Why hadn't he taken the time to follow up on any of his old boyfriends, he thought. His undischarged dick once more perked up. "Jack," he said, "you've really grown!"
"So have you, babe," bringing Phil's predicament once more back to him. Jack stood next to him appraisingly, his fat arms crossed on top of his spheroid front. Jack had gain much of the additional weight in his belly and arms, Phil noticed. Packed into a sweat suit that had to be made for him, he was bursting with new bulges: his shoulders were huge and his thighs enormous; his sizable chest were significantly dwarfed by his mountainous paunch. Phil wished he could lift himself from the bed to embrace Jack, but the press of gravity was too much.
Instead, Jack offed his sweat suit and climbed on top of him! Reaching under Phil's layers of flab for his building erection, he was surprisingly deft at finding it and inserting it into one of his many folds. Phil was unable to view beyond his swelling front to see the actual connection, but that didn't matter. As Jack hovered in front of Phil, his chest swing wildly from side to side, his torso shifting and folding in new places with every move, Phil came in buckets.
"You did this to me," he said, when he'd gotten his breath back. He wriggled his torso furiously as Jack rolled off him, simultaneously stunned by the changes he'd just experienced yet caught in his afterglow."You and Mario!?" He recalled the question that had hit him earlier. "What was Mario talking about when he said human men?"
"I thought it was obvious by now," Mario said, suddenly appearing on the other side of the bed brandishing the copy of the spell book. "I'm a demon; Jack called me up using this book!" Mario patted Phil's side appreciatively watching the fat ripple, then continued. "My job was to be a kind of a repository, storing every fattening item you fed me so I could give it back to you. Call me a karmic battery." With that, the demon winked out of site, dropping the book out of reach beside MacSchtomock.
The irony of falling victim of his own deepest fantasy wasn't lost on Philip. His ex-boyfriend had definitely shown some creativity with this magic business, trapping him in his own bedroom. All he could do was wait and see what would happen next.
Waddling to the side of the bed, Jack grabbed the magic book and then leaned over to plant a kiss on Phil's puffy cheek. "I don't know about you but after all the excitement and lovemaking, I'm feeling famished. Did you know there's a spell in this book that supplies unlimited food?" He examined Phil's bloated, beached-whale body and continued, "you should be able to sit up now."
"What?, Oh!" he puffed, as he eagerly tested Jack's statement. It wasn't easy, smothered in so many layers of fat, it took an effort of will to even bend his heavy arms. After much exertion though he was able to wiggle into a semi upright position; he had too much bulk around the belly to sit up all the way. "Does this mean I'll eventually be able to get around?" he gasped and panted.
"Damned if I know," Jack laughed. "This is my first magic spell. All I know is that your body has been working to acclimate itself. One of the effects of the spell is to build your system to the level of health you were before but at your new weight and size. The change is irreversible though: you couldn't lose weight if you tried!"
"Nowhere to go but up, eh?" Phil asked. Perhaps it was the effort of sitting up but suddenly he was feeling quite giddy.
"Which brings me back to my question: are you hungry?"
Was he kidding? With a body this size he thought he'd be hungry most of the time. It looked like his single days were over, he thought with a strange combination of resignation and anticipation. Jack had him caught, not only under his own voluminous body weight, but the promise of an endless supply of food was making his stomach growl audibly. He could do worse, he concluded: those 300 extra pounds on Jack definitely looked choice.
He looked down once more at his swollen body, and suddenly it felt right. Perhaps the spell had an emotional side too, but now he didn't care he loved his new bulk and loved Jack for giving it to him.
He nodded as fervently as his chins would allow him. Jack waddled into the dining room, preparing to chant the spell that would start their bounty of food. He stood with his great legs spread and his whole body jiggling, as he started to speak. Unlimited food meant plenty of food for Jack, Phil thought, perhaps Jack would be able to eat himself up to my weight.
"Still a feeder at heart aren't you ,Phil?" Jack said chuckling loudly and rejoicing inwardly. Phil heard that thought. Phil's question to himself indicated that he was accepting the idea of them living and eating and growing even larger together. "That's the way I fell in love with you. After all, I always loved to eat, and you gave me permission to."
Jack bit into the cake that had instantly materialized in his hand. Phil was torn between the desire to watch him finish it and his own growing hunger. His dilemma was quickly resolved: in another instant a tray of sweets appeared in his fat hands. It was know trouble at all to stuff them all into his mouth. "Don't worry," said Jack, "I feel this should be an equal partnership and soon Ill be just as big as you are."He then snapped his fingers and started shoveling in the plate of lasagna that had appeared.
But Phil didn't notice Jack's feat; he was too busy savoring the taste of his own treats melting on his tongue. And in that moment Philip MacSchtomock learned something: the best project was yourself. Particularly if you had a handsome partner to catch up with you.
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