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Jakes new regimen Part 4
VIII. Final Preparations
On the final Friday, just three days before the eating contest, Tom revealed that he was extremely impressed. He had maintained a stern but encouraging stance, the coach pushing his jock hard to stick to the regimen, making him live up to the expectations, but the sight of Jake's mass was making him nuts. The jock's transformation was stunning.
"Well, Jake. You have outstretched my hopes. The contest is Monday, and I think you might be in fighting shape at last. Let's see just how good that belly is looking."
Jake beamed and threw his shoulders back. His gut launched out in from of him. It felt so full and heavy, yet it hovered high and round as if filled with helium. Eighty percent of his gain was going right to his ballooning ball gut, the remaining weight rounding out his big bubble butt and meaty pecs. He had no idea what he was weighing, but he knew his belly was damn huge.
Tom's jaw dropped, despite himself, despite having seen the daily growth. Jake caught his reaction, took a deep breath and pushed his gut out some more to really impress his boss. Tom had to come closer. Jake was totally into it. He stood proudly to be admired. He grabbed the sides of his belly and bounced it for Tom. It rocked with a heavy thud. "Boss, you've really gotten me into this eating thing." Tom was walking around Jake slowly, brushing against the beefy stud's body as he studied his blown out gut from all angles. Jake was rubbing his fat bulging sides vigorously. "I mean, heh - I'll have to work pretty fucking hard to shrink this huge thing after that contest, but man, I've been getting SO into all this food. I'm gonna miss it. Shiiiit, this feels goo-oood!" It was hard to say who was more into the jock's belly.
Tom took in Jake's every muscled and fattened bulge. Everything on him looked thicker. His beefy ass pushed out like two giant melons. His broad shoulders were back and his tree trunk legs spread to counterbalance the ponderous bulk of his gut. Amazing how the jock took to this. Tom envisioned Jake even fatter. "You're not losing a fucking pound, fatboy," he thought. "Quite the opposite!"
"You are going to be incredible once I really get you going." That last line was said out loud, despite Tom's usual control. Jake looked up from his own belly and chuckled. "What, this hasn't been really goin'?" He had no idea what Tom meant. All he knew was that Tom was loving the view, and he was standing there proudly, letting his gut show in full glory. It was like hitting a home run.
Tom came around to the front of Jake's belly and stopped, leaning into the fat sphere between them. He had to fully feel it. Jake didn't flinch. If anything, it felt like he was pushing his belly out a bit more.
"I have an idea Jake." Both men were leaning into his gut full force by now. "I think you've had a great first few weeks, and it's time to give you a rest at least from construction work - this Friday."
"Yes. And I think it's time for a trial run for the contest next week. No work for you today except eating."
"Heh pretty much how all these work days have been going, boss."
"You think? You have no idea. Better loosen your belt Jake."
"No belt boss. None of them fit any more. This gut's gotten too fucking big for that. Hell, these new jeans barely fit any more. Not like I need to hold 'em up."
Tom wrapped his big arms around the fat swell pressed into him and started pushing Jake across the room by his belly. Jake took his lead, keeping in step without losing contact between his belly and Tom's strong torso. Tom guided him onto the only stool in the nearly finished room. Jake landed on it hard, his beefy muscled thighs nearly crushing it between them. His gut rounded upward as his big legs hit its underside.
"Sit right there. The food is coming to you today. Remember. This is your dry run for the eating contest. Show me what you can do. Impress me Jake. I want to see a new level from you."
Jake readied himself like it was the start of the big game. Tom went into the adjacent storeroom a room that Jake had yet to be in. He came back wheeling a cart loaded with breakfast foods. Stacks of pancakes. Pastries. Bacon and sausage. Biscuits. Heaps of cheese and eggs. Jake was salivating at the sight of the food like Pavlov's Dog. Tom pushed the trolley up to press into the jock's belly and made him eat right off the cart. No plates. Just a fork, his hands, and the platters of fattening food. Jake ate and ate. Tom walked around him, surveying his progress, issuing stern commands to keep gorging. Jake might slow for a second, but Tom kept spiking his pace, urging him on, a driving taskmaster. Jake responded every time. The combination of orders and encouragement brought out the show-off jock in spades. The fat stud was inhaling the food, only able to groan and chew as his belly pushed out. His face reddened from the effort, but he pushed on. His orders were to clear the plates. He wasn't going to stop until each one empty. Tom insisted. Jake obeyed. His belly ballooned. He finally fell back from breakfast victorious. The cart was ravished. Jake looked like its entire volume had simply transferred into his gut. His eyes were half shut. All he did was moan and rub his belly, head drooping a bit as he checked out the results.
"Ooooo. Fuuuck. Boss . . . shit! SO stuffed . . . I . . feel . . . . so . . . . . fuuckin' . . . full . . . ." Jake looked ready to pass out.
Tom let him rest it off, but not for long.
A new cart appeared within an hour. "Ready for the next round,?" Jake hadn't stopped rubbing his belly since breakfast. He surveyed the heaps of food now facing him. "Damn, dunno . . . if I'm . . . mmmmm . . . ready . . . ooooofff . . . yet." Jake tried to sit upright. His belly bulged to show how tight it still was. He shook his head and made an effort to revive. His gut pushed him back. "Feel - this - thing - boss." Jake was smacking his belly hard. The thump resonated across the empty room. "I think - those pancakes . . . shit, I feel FAT . . . swelled up in here . . . or somethin'!"
Tom saw not only the jock's giant belly, but the bulge in his jeans as he leaned back against the wall. "I don't think I can do it yet coach. Give me a few."
"Totally unacceptable," Tom said. "You think that guy Monday is going to ask for a rest? Hell no. This food in going in you NOW Fatboy!" Tom stood over Jake with a burger in his hand. Jake opened his mouth to protest, and Tom rammed it into his mouth. Jake was trying to talk through the food pressed to his lips, but each attempt only let in more of the burger. Jake's eyes went wide. Tom let out an evil laugh. "That's it fatso. EAT EAT EAT!" Jake started chewing and swallowing, faster, more hungrily - his only choice. Food came at him in a fury. He sounded like a rutting pig as he gulped it down and tried to inhale between mouthfuls. Tom was relentless. At least the jock could lean back, give his belly room to swell, not have to lean forward and do the work. He submitted totally, throbbing as Tom stuffed and stuffed him, eating ravenously and relishing Tom's impressed grin despite the growing ache in his dangerously bulging belly. His gut blew out tight in every direction. The skin stretched over his belly like a taught balloon. The tighter his belly swelled, the harder his dick got. Precum spots began leaking through his jeans. Tom saw every bulge. He fed Jake even harder. With one hand he rammed food in the jock, with his other, he reached for the jeans. They were so damn tight. He could barely get his fingers in them to pop the buttons. Jake was aching to free his thickly swollen cock. Tom's hand on his waistband made it worse. Mouth stuffed, he reached under his giant belly to help Tom bust open his pants. He furiously fumbled with the bottons, now so tough to reach. Once the first one was popped, the others blew open from the pressure. Jake let out a grunt or relief.
Tom shoved an entire pie toward Jake's fattened face and grabbed the jock's engorged cock. "Feed yourself, you fat pig!" Jake's dick leapt in Tom's hand. He took the pie with both hands and buried his face in it while Tom stroked. Jake's belly looked ready to explode, but he was in utter ecstasy. He gobbled down huge mouthfuls of pie. It was smeared on his nose and lips as he gorged. "That's it you fat pig. Eat like the prize hog you are! I know just how much of a pig you are now, Fatboy! Make that belly explode for me you FAT fucking PIG!" Jake's tongue hit the bottom of the pie plate and his dick erupted all over Tom's hand and his giant belly. Jake fell back and the stool flew out from under him. He was still shooting as he toppled back against the wall, pinned under his gut. He moaned and slid down the wall until he sprawled flat on his back. His belly towered in the air. Tom saw nothing but the jock's spread legs and the giant sphere of a cum spotted belly. He tore open his own pants and beat off over the fattened, comatose jock, spewing on the top of the planet of fat. Jake barely lifted his head at the feel of the warm cum and indulged a dazed grin before dropping his head and passing out asleep, holding his belly as if to keep it from busting.
A little later, he woke to the feel of a warm cloth washing his belly. He opened his eyes and looked down, seeing nothing but the round horizon. He couldn't even see what he felt, but it felt damn good. His groan of pleasure let Tom know his prize hog was awake again.
"Like the feel of this fat belly, Jake?" Another moan in reply. "Good thing. I've decided you're not leaving this room until the contest." Jake tried to lift his head. The weight of his gut surprised even him. He was still stuffed tight. His huge belly weighed a ton. Tom was now massaging Jake's fat bulge in big slow arcs. The jock laid back and pushed his gut into Tom's hands. "That's it fatso. Now I know just what a pig you are. You're doing nothing but eat for me as long as I say." Jake felt Tom's crotch pressing into the top of his belly as he rubbed. He would submit to anything he was told the way he felt right now. He had no idea how much more he could eat. But he wanted Tom to show him. He wanted it bad. He moaned again at the feel of Tom's manly hands and body on his belly. He let the words out softly.
"Feed me coach."
"What did you say fatso?"
"You want me to feed you MORE, fatso?"
"Yeah. Oh god yeah. Feed me coach."
"How much, fatso?
"Fuck, whatever you want coach. More. Feed me more!"
"What do you want me to do to you fatso?"
"Make me fatter coach."
"How fat, fatso?"
"God. SO fat coach! Make me fatter. Make me fucking HUGE!"
Tom was hugging Jake's belly and thumping its sides. "Fatter than this, fatboy?"
"Oh god yeah. Make me so fucking fat coach. Make me a fucking BLIMP!"
Jake was ready to cum all over again. Tom was grinding his hips into Jake's gut as the jock begged. The fat mound between them rocked with their movements. They both shot with a loud yelp. Tom collapsed on Jake's belly, looking down into the handsome stud's post coital gaze.
"Just remember you asked for it you Fat Pig."
Jake was kept in his feed room for the rest of the weekend. Tom fed him ruthlessly. Jake barely spoke except to ask for more food. Jake had no sense of time. His weekend was nothing but feedings, sexual explosions and naps. He was dazed when Tom finally told him it was time to go home.
"Tomorrow's your big day, Fatboy. You finally get a rest. I think we stretched this gut enough, and I want you to let it recover so we can beat them all tomorrow."
It took both their strength to get the groggy jock up on his feet. He almost feel forward from the weight in front of him. Tom guided him to his truck, and Jake worked to climb up into the cab. He planted his beefy ass on the driver's seat, sighed heavily, and then swung to hoist his gut into place. With a thud, his belly smacked into the wheel. Jake rocked to his left and threw his weight again. Bam. No luck. His belly had grown too big to even fit behind the wheel. Tom was thrilled. Jake fell from the cab and landed on the ground hard, almost falling forward again. He steadied himself, which was like trying to stop a speeding semi. "Now what coach?"
"Guess you stay here tonight, Fatboy." Jake lumbered back into the room he knew all too well. He was exhausted. He needed to sleep and didn't care where. He was actually glad he didn't have to drive home. He dropped to his knees, let his gut hit the floor, and then rolled over his beach ball gut down onto his back. Tom found a tarp and rolled it up into a pillow for his trainee and let him sleep it all off.
IX. The Showdown
It was dark in the windowless room when Jake roused. He had slept hard, barely moving. His gut rose and fell with his breathing as he came to. He just laid there for a while, looking up at the belly bulging high off his body. Despite not cramming in food for the hours he had slept, he still felt a massive pressure from his gut. He rubbed its curves as he laid there, wondering if this was a dream. He didn't even see Tom sitting on the stool across the room.
"Sleep well, Jake?"
"Mmm hmmm," Jake moaned, not letting go of his fat ball.
"Today's the big day. We better get you up and dressed for the contest."
"Yeah." Jake still didn't move except to caress the sides of his distorted stomach. It was like he was checking to see if it was still there, pleased that it still felt so big.
Tom came closer. "Come on, buddy. Time to get up. You've slept late. Lunch is in an hour. Better get that appetite ready."
Jake tucked his elbows back and raised his shoulders. His gut barely moved except to mound a little higher. He raised his knees and sluggishly shifted his bulk. His fat bulged in response to every push.
"Okay, let me help, Big Guy." Tom scooped his big arms under Jake and pushed. There was no way he was sitting straight up and they both knew it. Jake rolled to the side. His belly was now so big that he needed momentum to get over the first bulge of his meaty love handles. Tom came around and pushed his back, rocking Jake over onto his belly. With some groggy effort, the sleepy huge jock rolled up onto hands and knees, his overgrown belly pressing firmly on the floor. He tried to shove himself upright with his arms, but as strong as he was, there was no room to thrust with his belly filling every inch between his back and the ground. Jake kind of bounced, popping his gut out a couple of times until he could throw himself up on his knees. Tom raced around to steady him, grabbing him by the broad shoulders and helping him shuffle his mass to standing. Jake was leaning back into Tom, his gut pushing out for what seemed like miles in front of them. Tom couldn't resist. He reached around from behind Jake and grabbed the meaty sides of his gut. Both men were rubbing its unbelievable sphere. Jake was happily groaning all over again.
"You're going to do me proud today, Fatboy, aren't you?"
"Oh yeah coach. I'm gonna eat but good for you. One last gorging. You've trained me right."
Tom handed Jake some new clothes - track pants with a big stripe up the leg and a white ribbed tank top. "Bigger clothes. Should give enough to cover you. You'll definitely be needing the room from here." Jake was thinking room for the eating contest. Tom was thinking much further out. "Last gorge my ass."
Somehow balancing his mass with his powerful legs, Jake, stood on each foot to slip into the track pants. Bending to pull them up had become an effort. His gut was too huge to easily reach past. But he wriggled into the pants, fat belly bouncing ponderously. They hugged him closely. The stripe up the leg bulged and curved along his calves and thick thighs. The fabric was at its tightest as it pulled over his round ass cheeks, highlighting their full shape before dipping between his butt. Thin white threads were already showing along the seams. The ribbed tank distorted to encase the jock's enormous girth. It looked painted on, each rib of the shirt pulling wide as it tugged around his broadest circumference. He yanked at the hem. Jake was so fat now that he thought it covered him, yet there was a good half foot of belly hovering horizontally below him that even the new shirt just wasn't going to reach. His pecs bulged with muscle and fat, the shirt so tight that it traced his nipples for everyone to see. Jake's huge arms and forearms looked bigger than ever, despite the size of his belly. He looked inhumanly swollen.
"Looks like you're ready, big guy. Hope you're damn hungry. You know how bad I want you to beat this guy."
Jake pulled at the hem of his tank again. "Coach, I'm gonna kick his ass and eat him under the table. Let's do it!"
With that Tom loaded him into the passenger seat of his truck. Even without a steering wheel in the way, Jake's thick fat ball seemed to nearly fill the cab, threatening to graze the dashboard. Off they went to the bar for the contest. Tom found himself calculating how many meals it would take to wedge Jake in his seat.
Tom pulled into a spot behind the bar and shut off the truck. "Wait here until I come for you. I want to check things out first."
"You got it coach. Bring me a snack when you come back."
"No way, Fatboy. No chow for you 'til you're going head to head with that other guy. I want this huge tank empty and ready to fill."
Jake frowned. He was no longer accustomed to going so long without stuffing himself.
Tom entered the bar and his crew started to cheer, ready for the eating contest rematch. The guys were looking behind him for their hopeful hero.
"Come on, Tom, Where is he?"
"Yeah, you've been keeping the guy from us. He better be up to this!
"That other guy looks big. This is gonna be tough."
"Yeah, how much can our guy eat?"
Tom was scanning the room for last year's winner. He hadn't seen him since their defeat. In his mind, this guy had grown into this huge monster. The image he held is what drove him to stuff Jake to within a millimeter of busting day after day, wondering if he was able to make his fat jock big enough in time. Finally his eyes landed on the competition. A big burly guy, lineman type for sure. Pretty much Jake's build but a couple of inches taller, a faint bit more muscular if that was possible. Tom saw his head poking above the group. His coworkers parted and the guy was glaring smugly at Tom's team. Tom's crew went silent. Tom broke into a grin. All year he had thought this guy was untouchably big. Now he let out a satisfied laugh. Given what he had done to Jake, this was going to be more than possible. The guy was the typical overfed ex-lineman, but Jake changed his perspective. Jake was most certainly fatter. He had made his jock the monster in the room now. Just wait!
The other crew started taunting Tom's, and his team was looking doubtful. The company's owner, a brusque guy named Bill, known to be an asshole, walked up to Tom with his eating machine in tow.
"Ready to have your ass kicked again Tom? Big Bob's not looking so big after his whomping last year. Think he even stands a chance against old bruiser here?" Bill's team was chanting. "Bruiser! Bruiser! Bruiser!" Bill waved them quiet. Tom grin had anything but faded.
"Well Bill. We have a new contender. We'll just see who's the bruiser this year."
"Well where the fuck is he then? Bring your little apprentice on, Tom. I hope he's ready to be fetching Bruiser's last few helpings once he caves. Let's see what you got."
Tom silently turned to get Jake, leaving everyone wondering. He helped the heavy jock down from the cab and tugged his shirt tight over his belly, tucking it in as much as possible to further highlight his bulk. "First impressions are everything, Jake. This is your day to impress me like NEVER before."
Jake set his legs wide and planted one hand on the top of his belly and one under its round base. He was thumping it like a show off. "Shit coach, I am so ready! In fact, I'm pretty fucking hungry here. You haven't given me any breakfast. Let's take this guy." He was walking toward the bar door like a gladiator ready to take the lion. Tom had to catch up to him, marveling at how fast Jake could move his massive bulk.
Tom pushed open the door of the bar. "Gentlemen, I give you this year's eating contest winner." Jake lumbered in, his heavily fattened belly rocking hard from side to side with his confident stride. His tank was already creeping up his belly. He powered into the middle of the room and stopped, standing like superman with his hands on his hips, filling everyone's view. The crowd went hushed for a second. Someone let out a low whistle and then the guys erupted. Comments started to fly from both crews, Bill's in apprehension, Tom's in proud amazement.
"Holy fuck. Look at that guy's gut!"
"Shit Bill, he's even bigger than Bruiser."
"Tom, what the fuck have you been feeding this guy??"
"What?! Look at the size of that thing! Is that guy gonna birth an elephant over there?"
"Whoa! How many rounds do you think that guy can eat?!"
"Damn, one helping and it looks like he'll bust!"
"Jake man, that can't be you." One guy came up and was bold enough to touch Jake's belly. "Shit bud, have you been doing any work, or just eating on the payroll?" He smacked Jake's belly, which barely moved it was so tight and round. "Guy's, you won't BELIEVE this thing. It feels like a fucking overblown ball. Tom, what did you get in him?"
"Yeah Tom, did you blow him up with something or what?"
"Where's the pump hole?" The guy poked around Jake's belly button, which seemed inside out from the pressure behind. "This it big guy?" Jake held his gut firm and leaned in.
"Fuck Jake, how much have you packed on since starting here?"
Bill's team muttered anxiously amongst themselves. Bruiser was trying to look cocky, but everyone could see him beginning to wonder.
Another guy stepped in to feel Jake up. He looked over Jake's belly to his buddy on the other side, stunned. "Jesus Jake, this thing can't be for real. You already look about ready to pop and you haven't even had the first round."
Both guys were rubbing the sides of Jake's belly. He was beaming with pride, pushing his gut out, eating up the admiration and intimidation. The two guys playfully bounced Jake's belly.
"Shit look at it! It even bounces like a big ball!" Jake reached around his gut to help them show off how his solid fat mass moved. The team was going wild.
"Just look at him compared to me!" One guy stood sideways, shoulder to shoulder with Jake. "My beergut goes to here, but look how far out his goes!" Jake turned sideways so everyone could admire his fat depth. More raucous cheers.
Big Bob came out of the crowd. "Well, yeah, he'd be wide compared to you, Jimbo, but what about compared to my gut?" He pushed in and stood next to Jake for everyone to compare. Bob's belly was impressive. Jake's still ballooned out a good foot thicker. The cheers became deafening. Bob grabbed Jake's hand and raised it like Rocky's. His tank pulled up more, his belly on full display. On instinct, Jake was rubbing his fat with his other hand. "Gentlemen, I give you this year's winner!!" Deafening cheers.
Bill was shouting to quiet the crowd.
"Hold up! Hold up! Hold up! He hasn't even proven what that gut can do. Don't get all cocky just yet, Tom. Bruiser here is ready. Your boy may be a total fatso, but this is a contest for men. Let's stop with the bullshit and see what he's made of."
With that Bill shoved his man down into a chair. Jake grabbed his own chair and planted it right across from Bruiser, smacking his fat butt cheeks down with a thud. He settled in, rubbing his belly, inching the chair right up to the competition, until they were nearly belly to belly.
"Bring it on, Big Guy. Hope you're hungry." Jake was in full competitive jock mode, determined to win.
The kitchen rolled out huge carts lined with plates of food. Tom took Jake's side, and Bill stared back at him. The rules the guys go head to head, helping for helping, until one of the huge studs can't wedge in another bite, plain and simple.
Tom handed Jake the first plate, heavy with a burgers. On the word go, Jake inhaled the fattening food like it was air, reaching for the next plate before his last bite. In a matter of minutes, he had gobbled down the next three. Bruiser was keeping up without issue, but it was quickly apparent that he was not the one setting the pace. Jake spread his legs to give his ball gut more room and dug into the next helping, pushing to stay a mouthful ahead of his rival. He stared right into the other guy's eyes, stuffing his mouth with abandon, as if issuing a dare. Soon the cart was half cleared, and it was apparent that Jake was going to take them into another round. One of the guys yelled for more food. The chef came out of the kitchen in disbelief, wanting to see for himself that all that food was about gone. Jake had barely broken a sweat, well-trained to eat until his gut was utterly overstuffed. Bruiser, trying to look calm, was getting red. He was starting to look uncomfortable. Jake beamed as he licked the last plate clean. He threw it back on the cart and bellowed like Henry VIII. "Bring me more chow. This gut ain't even CLOSE to full yet!" Jake puffed out his giant belly and pushed it right into Bruiser's. Tom's team went crazy. Bruiser took a deep breath and struggled to down his final mouthful, trying to edge away from Jake's massive gut.
The men had a moment to rest as the carts were replaced. Bill's team was trying to shout out words of encouragement to their guy, but the cheers of Tom's team were drowning them out.
"Man, Jake, you are a fucking eating machine!"
"Look at his gut! It's grown just since he's been here."
"Damn Jake, how big can that thing stretch? What, is it made of rubber?"
Jake proudly smacked his belly and shifted his bulk to ready for more food. He looked at ease, eager for more. Bruiser was stifling a belch and looked unable to find a comfortable position. The new carts arrived, piled higher than the first. Bruiser moaned out loud at the sight of them and clutched his stomach. He was in trouble and Jake could see it. Tom leaned in to urge his champ on, whispering in his ear. "I want you to not only beat him, but flatten him Fatboy."
With a huge inhale, Jake puffed out his gut cockily. Their bellies brushed and Bruiser flinched. Jake pushed out his belly more. "Ready man? Or do you wanna surrender now?"
Bruiser opened his mouth, but Bill snapped back first. "Of course hes' ready, you pipsqueak. That fat gut of yours may be huge, but my boy can eat. Let's keep this going." Bruiser blinked hard and rubbed his stomach with none of Jake's pleasure.
Jake whispered back to Tom, "I'm gonna make that guy think he's about to explode." Tom was the one who got hard this time.
Jake grabbed his next plate and starting gorging like he was empty. Bruiser was not living up to his name. He was quickly lagging, and Jake was not letting up one bit at the signs of his struggle. If anything, he ate harder, showing off as he tossed plates aside. He didn't take his eyes off his target and just reached out for the plates that Tom had on the ready. He was in an eating trance, refusing to acknowledge the building pressure in his own belly. Bill was getting nervous. His boy was visibly failing and the whole room knew it. Bruiser looked ready to fall over. Jake's belly looked ready to launch, dangerously stuffed, inching out with each helping as his shirt rode up the hard, inflated expanse. His huge fat ball threatened to shove into his challenger enough to knock him over. Bill tried to shuffle Bruiser back while yelling at him to eat. The more Bruiser groaned in pain, the harder Jake stuffed himself. Bill knew it was about to end but was nowhere near ready to accept that. Suddenly, he yelled to another guy on his crew. "Give me another plate. I'm gonna fucking stuff him myself!" He was behind Bruiser's head, holding the plate under his chin and ramming handfuls of food in the poor guy's mouth. Bruiser looked ready to pass out.
Jake signaled to Tom, who took the cue right away. "Fairs fair, Bill." He whirled behind Jake and didn't have to ask for another plate. His team was ready with several. Jake held the sides of his belly with both hands and tipped his head back to be force fed. He practically opened his throat and took in food as if chugging from a beer bong. He belly ballooned bigger and bigger. He shut his eyes and focused hard. He was breathing deeply through his nose to keep taking it in. Tom was packing his gut fiercely, equally entranced. The cheers grew deafening - so deafening neither man heard the thud as Bruiser toppled out of his chair to get away from Bill. He fell on his knees, grasping his belly in sheer agony. Jake ate and ate. It took a few minutes for the crew to break through to tell them to stop. Jake finally opened his eyes and saw his fallen challenger. He grunted like a pig and smacked his belly hard. Then he saw Bruiser's cart, a few plates uneaten.
"Give me those too!" Tom didn't hesitate a second. He had Jake's mouth crammed full before he could ask twice.
"Jesus Tom. You won already. Let the guy stop!"
"You heard him! Shut up and give me the next plate." He kept Jake's cheeks bulging with food.
"Shit Tom. Seriously. He's gonna fucking blow if you feed him more!"
"Yeah Tom. Holy shit, look at his belly! It's fucking blue it's so tight." Jake's belly looked like the Goodyear Blimp, inflated a few notches tighter. He felt hands on his gut, testing its pressure. He loved all the attention. Not that Tom was letting up, but Jake managed one food-muffled word. "More!" Tom stuffed him relentlessly, out to see just how much he could make Jake down. It was just about their own record now.
"TOM he's gonna fucking BUST. You GOTTA let up man!" One of the guys started holding Jake's belly as if to stop it from splitting. Tom grabbed the last plate and rammed it against Jake's lips. The jock let out his first pained groan but opened wide. With some work, he gulped the last of it down and fell back in his chair. He let out a deep, long groan.
Every stood back, almost afraid Jake would literally explode. His belly looked tight as a drum, stretched hard and round, pushing out in every direction, the biggest sphere of fat that anyone there had seen. Jake couldn't talk. He was so full he couldn't sit upright. He tried to hoist himself up. The pressure on his pants blew a seam wide open. He landed back on the chair with a massive thud, splintering the thing under him. He crashed to the floor, flat on his back, belly towering. Everyone rushed to see if he was okay.
"Jake! Jake! You okay man?"
Can you move?"
Jake was panting hard, the full force of his gorging finally conscious, its full weight pinning him to the floor.
"Fuck . . . . no . . . . uuuuuuggggh."
"Anything broken man?"
"Nuh uh. Oooooo . . . . sooooo . . . . . . fuuuuk'n . . . . stuuuuu --- uuffed."
He just laid there, eyes shut, holding his sides. Tom pushed through the crowd and set his hands on the top of Jake's belly, gentle for the first time all night. "Let him rest. He's fine. He's just stuffed like the prize hog that he is."
Jake grinned faintly, moaning at the feel of Tom's hands.
Bill was rudely telling his crew to get Bruiser out of his sight.
"Looks like we have a wimp and a winner, Bill." Tom was tapping the hard ball mounded on top of his stud. "The size of this gut right here makes it pretty clear who's who."
Bill opened his mouth but had nothing to say. He snapped it shut and stormed off. "See you next year!"
It would take a few guys to help Jake out of the bar, but no one dared move him for a while. Tom kept testing the pressure on his champ's mound of fat. When it had eased, they loaded the groggy, fattened blimp onto the flatbed of Tom's truck. Everyone could see the towering arc of Jake's belly as they drove off. Tom took him home where they wrestled his bulk into bed. Jake was ready to sleep it off and passed out immediately. Tom watched his stud's belly rise and fall as he slept, admiring every inch of the jock's massive body for a bit before leaving. He went home and beat off several times remembering the day's sights.
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