Swell4Me
It was one of those months where funds are scarce and you end up having to tighten your belt a little, as the saying goes.
The trouble in my case was that it wasn't just a metaphorical belt-tightening--the combination of stress, a reduced grocery budget, and tramping all over town to find work added up to at least four inches off the waistline so far.
And sure, maybe that works for some people, but I prefer my curves, thank you very much.
It was a Monday morning and I was kind of drowsing in bed when I heard the chirp of my phone and pounced for it.
Unfortunately, it wasn't a call about an interview--just an alert from one of the, ah, friend-finding apps that had accumulated in my phone over time.
I never went on those apps much anymore--the intersection of being gay, being fat, being a skunk, being in my late 30s... all added up to having a vanishingly small audience. When it was clear I wasn't really getting responses, well... I'd put them on the back burner.
The stranger's opening salvo was not all that impressive: "hey" does not exactly convey Casanova-like levels of charm. But his profile picture was immediately arresting.
"Swell4me" was a raccoon, his brown fur graying around the edges showing he was somewhat older than me, but still well within the socially acceptable age window. He was thick all around, a massive taut Waschbärbauch taking up much of the screen. Now, sure, anyone can have a body to die for; I'd jerked off to dozens like him before.
No, what really got me--cheesy, I know--was his smile. Green eyes still youthful lit up on the face of someone who had more adorableness than he had any right to have.
So maybe I'm a little shallow. "Hey," I answered. "You're cute."
About a week after we'd started hanging out, Petar finally brought up the subject in person. "I want to feed you," he said.
"I know that," I said, leaning into the big raccoon. We'd just gotten through a few boxes of pizza, after all.
"No," he said. "I mean really feed you. I want to tie you down and hook a tube to your muzzle and just pump calories into you for weeks, till you're as round as a fucking balloon and--"
"OINK," I said. I don't think a single sentence had ever gotten me so rock hard before.
"Is that a yes then?"
"Hah! Not like I have anything else to do!"
So the next day, after I'd left word with my mates about the arrangement, I was in Petar's living room, stripping down as he started fixing restraints to his big recliner.
"Fuck, this is going to be great."
I chuckled and flopped down in the chair as he cuffed my wrists and ankles. A large tube fed from an empty aquarium he had mounted behind the chair, and he fed its loose end into a gag he strapped around my muzzle.
"That comfortable?"
I nodded.
He secured the gag a couple of notches tighter. "If it's too comfortable you'll leak. Can't have that happen. It should be firm but not so much that it hurts. Better?"
I nodded.
"Okay, let's start filling this tank!" He gave my belly a pat and disappeared to the kitchen, returning after a moment with two gallon jugs in each paw, which he proceeded to dump into the aquarium.
It was only a few minutes before the onrush of a cool thick shake was at my maw, and I drank gratefully as Petar kept bringing out more jugs of it to fill the tank. After he was done, he sat on the floor between my legs and nuzzled my filling gut as his paws worked my body.
It was only a few minutes longer before my stomach started to complain. Not that I was full or anything--I was trying to pace myself--but, well, when your body's not used to large quantities of a dairy-based beverage, it will not react well.
Reflexively I tried to sit up, but of course the cuffs held solid and I couldn't move. I couldn't really articulate any words with the tube in my mouth, but I did manage to whimper enough to get Petar's attention.
He didn't get as far as asking me what was up before an enormous rumble sounded from my filling belly. "That's not hunger, is it..." he said.
I shook my head.
A sly grin covered his face. "All right, I've got just the thing. Hold on, I'll be right back."
I wondered what he had in mind. I hadn't noticed anything that suggested he might be into diapers, so I doubted he was going to pull out a nice thick one, however appealing the idea might have been. Weird how a fantasy can make you overlook the basic, necessary details.
Petar came back with his hands full and more tubing slung over his shoulder.
I stared helplessly and squirmed in my seat as he secured another pair of tubes to my gag and started fastening the other end to a hollow buttplug.
"So here's the plan," he said, "Part of the trouble with gaining is that you lose so much in waste. If we make you a closed system and recycle everything, you'll be huge in no time."
He very lightly lubed up the plug and wedged it in place under my tail. He took a band and secured the other tube around the base of my cock.
I oinked in protest but of course I was unable to resist. I wanted to try to push the plug out but my body had other ideas.
I groaned out deeply as my poor overtaxed bowels started to empty themselves into the tube.
And the raccoon very calmly sat back between my legs, kneading at my belly as an inrush of bitter muck flowed into my muzzle alongside the steady flow of sweetish shake from the tank.
I was surprised I wasn't sick, but I didn't really have room to be. The gush from my still-draining ass, being forceful enough to make its way up the narrow feeding tube, was more than forceful enough to push down my throat without resistance.
My gut filled, rumbling and feeling more unsettled than ever as it rounded out with the mix of shake and shit.
"You're a fucking pig," Petar said. "I love it."
It took more than a couple days to drain that first tank, not least because the more I gulped down, the more waste I had to swallow as well.
And since none of the waste was actually being wasted, my gut ballooned out in front of me, a massive, heavy ball already reaching out to my knees.
I spent most of the time alone. Petar slept in his own room and was at work most of the day, so I only saw him in the evenings. The rest of the time it was just me, the TV, and mouthful after mouthful of sugary fat and shit--my stomach never did settle down.
When I'd finally drained the whole tank, the raccoon came and sat between my legs again, stroking my hard taut belly. "Such a hog... fuck." He stood up in front of me, and over the curve of my gut I could see he was hard, his modest shaft dripping in his paw.
He leaned over my gut to rub his nose against my snout, and I could feel him grinding at the front of my belly. Now after all this time sitting and growing big I was feeling kind of needy myself, but my massive gut had fully filled my lap, making access to my dick impossible.
But when Petar's shaft slid its way into my deep furry navel, none of that mattered. The sensation was electric, like my bellybutton was wired directly into my cock and I could feel myself dripping along the underside of my belly.
The sensation only increased as the raccoon started thrusting into my gut. The feel of that dick churning up the contents of my overbloated belly was indescribable--it made me feel every ounce of the hugeness he'd put on me. His paws stroked the perimeter of my belly greedily as I felt his pre leaking out of my navel, and each stroke felt so calming. For days I'd felt bloated to bursting but now it felt like my body was finally assimilating everything Petar had thrown at it.
I looked down with some surprise to find that the massive ball gut I'd been building was now considerably softer, hanging over my thighs like warm dough. The raccoon's thrusts deep into my bellybutton were causing my body to ripple now.
The realization that I was absolutely, ridiculously fat pushed me over the edge, and somewhere under layers of flab my long-neglected cock pumped a thick load of cum into the feedtube covering it.
I grunted deeply but still the pleasure continued as Petar kept working my hole. His thick shaft working my flab brought me to climax two more times before his increasing thrusts reached their peak and I felt the throb of his dick and the gush of his cum flooding my navel.
He pulled out slowly and sat back down in front of me, pressing his muzzle against my bellybutton and sliding his tongue in deep, almost making out with my hole as he slurped down his load of seed.
When he went to get a rag to clean me up, I started to feel an almost-painful sensation in my stomach. After a week of constant fullness it felt almost foreign, but with all the contents of my gut turned to fat, my poor stretched-out stomach was now empty--and hungry.
I tried to get the raccoon's attention, pointing vaguely in the direction of my muzzle (the bonds, naturally, were tighter than ever now that I'd grown into them). In the end it was the angry grumble of my belly that made him notice my plight, and he looked up at me with a vicious grin.
"Ready for round two, then?"