Into the Fantasy

So, over the years I've read a ton of really terrible gainer fiction. Any effort I guess should be applauded, but a few stories really stick out a head above the rest. Since I don't know of anywhere it's posted, and I referenced it in my inaugural post, I figured I'd put up a story that was sent to me a long time ago by the author Cube. I don't have his e-mail address anymore, but I hope it's not a problem that I posted it -It's one of my all time favorites. Combining fantasies of bloated baseball players, chubby super heroes, and growing police men, this should make almost anyone hungry.

INTO THE FANTASY
By Cube


I don't know how it happened - when my world, my very existence began to make the shift. But at least it is a blessed relief to know that I am haven't gone off my rocker.

But let me start at the beginning...

I write. I write a lot as a matter of fact. History, fiction, fantasy...

Lots of fantasy.

Tales of superheroes and major villains. Men of the city and hunks of the wild. Spacemen, sports studs, actors... Oh heck, if its a handsome man, I try to do something both textual and sexual. My imagination could run rampant...

I generated tons of stories that bring up my deepest and innermost desires.

When I say tons, I have to confess I mean TONS, because I am a blatant and unashamed Encourager.

You know what that means?

It means that I long to be with a man or with men -- any number I guess -- who are getting fat. Of course I want romance to be in it too, but in all honesty, I would not mind a fling with at least one handsome man who is finding his belt getting tighter all the time...

I kept hoping that one day I would meet some guy who would let me love him and his growing figure. But in the meantime, I loaded sheets of paper with my stories, pictures, concepts, descriptions and narratives about swelling studs. Anything on this theme that I could I put onto paper. Somehow it made things seem at least a little more real.

In the meantime, I went about my usual business.

Every once in a while something would happen to me that made me wonder if I had dreamed it up. Everyone has had that moment. Haven't they? In my case it was seeing someone I had a crush on put on weight, reading about a celebrity sex-symbol I had fantasized over being seen with a belly or something like that. But this was only a part of everyday life. After all, if any of them came rushing to me, begging to have my love, or swelling up under my wishful gaze, I would have not been exactly overjoyed.

After all, this was reality I had to face and I think I did all right.

But then one night I went to bed and had the STRANGEST dreams. Now I mean strange in a very different way. After all, dreams are often fantastic things. Good or bad, they usually bring up at least a little of the peculiar. But that night everything that occurred in my dream was extraordinarily... ordinary. They were very mundane dreams. Me, going about and doing my usual stuff.

Not at all my usual sleeping adventure.

Then another part of the dream came. All around me in my bedroom were a group of men. They looked very familiar and they were whispering to one another. I could only get out bits of words like "...can he stay here?...," "...I want him so bad!...," "Give him time to get used to it..."

I woke up feeling very, very out of place. Still, I went through my usual morning, trying to ignore the feeling that I was out of place somehow.

On my way to work I passed a patrol car. I can't deny I like the sight of a handsome man in uniform. Especially if it is a cop indulging in the classic pastime of eating doughnuts. The idea of a good looking cop stuffing his mouth with pastry and filling out a paunch makes me feel very warm. If I had my way I would have all cops big bellied.

So obviously if I pass a police vehicle I want to take a quick look inside. And I did.

And nearly keeled over.

Two very sexy looking policemen was sitting in the car. The one seated at the wheel had curly black hair and the looks of a former model. His chest hair was curly too. The other one had a shaven head, a wonderful face and a beautiful dark skin with a smooth chest.

Now how do I know about the state of their chests?

Well these two policemen were sitting in their car, methodically pushing doughnuts into their mouths. They had unbuttoned their shirts, taken off their bullet proof vests, and let their large bellies fill out onto their laps. Every once in a while they would sweep the crumbs off the large rounds of their chests. They were so lost in the pleasure of the doughnut that they didn't even seem to pay attention to my gawking at them.

Shocked, I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this.

Nobody had seemed to take the slightest attention to these two bloating cops.

I closed my eyes and opened them hoping that I wouldn't see it either when I reopened them.

But the fat cops were still in front of me, munching placidly and resting a hand on their fleshy fronts. Suddenly the officer behind the wheel reached forward to get something from the dash of the car. His gut flopped onto the wheel and startled me as it sounded the horn.

I took off, still too shocked to be turned on.

Trying to figure out what was going on in my mind, I cut through the park. People were out and enjoying the morning sunshine. I would have enjoyed it too except I suddenly saw a jogger putting on a beer belly.

Now this itself would not be a surprising sight in itself. Many men develop guts. A lot really do gain weight rapidly. But this was a 'before-your-very-eyes' type of thing. I mean he was jogging along, the very image of a studly young gym-stud and all of a sudden I saw his shirt swell out above the waistband of his running shorts. I mean the washboard waist began taking on washtub proportions!

"What are you staring at?" the swelling man asked -- not unreasonably. He didn't even seem to notice how his belly-button was now inching below his shirt.

I could only stammer some silly answer and walk quickly away. I didn't even dare look back...

"I'm going crazy!" I thought as I finally got to the office. I was too scared to think about what I had seen anymore. Getting to my desk, I threw myself into work.

Right as I was heading out to lunch my phone rang. It was my boss.

"Could you come into my office?"

For more busy work I assumed, as I put down the receiver. As bosses go, he was a constant pain at times, but I survive. Its just a shame that he is so sexy looking - at least for me. I mean he has the cutest little executive belly. I enjoy the way he fills his suit with the buttons pulling against the gentle pressure of his rounding shirt. And oh how that man has been trying to shed the pounds! Heaven help anyone who mentions that he is a little plump! Actually, because of (or in spite of) how obnoxious he can be, I have featured him in more than a few stories where his worst fear comes true and he begins to suddenly pops a few buttons and fattens up rapidly. Of course as the executive grows, he is assured of his sexiness by the hero who makes out him in his office...

I have to admit I was thinking of those stories when I went in and closed the door. Suddenly he got up from his desk.

"Am I getting fat?"

"I beg your pardon?" I stammered, floored by the question. After all, not many men ask their employees that sort of thing. Especially when the answer is so very obvious.

"I asked if you think I am getting FAT?" There was worry in his eyes.

"Um not really..." I answered. I wasn't going to risk tangling with the issue - hell, I liked a steady paycheck.

"I'm glad you think so..."

Suddenly he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his pot belly. He smiled as he looked into my face.

"Am I still sexy enough for YOU?"

Oh boy!

What do you do when your boss begins to act out your fantasy...

...and then kiss you hard?

I'll tell you what I did.

Kissed back and tried so very hard not to freak out.

He felt so good with mouth against mine and his arms around me. I let my hands run around his middle, enjoying the feel of the shirt as his belly stretched it so smooth.

"This is impossible" I thought. "It can't be real..."

Suddenly I felt him trying to back me against the desk. From the pressure at his thighs, I knew what would be next. I couldn't deal with this. It was too WEIRD!

"What the *#$@! Are you doing!?!?" he demanded to know as I slipped out of his arms. Before I say anything, a button popped off his shirt.

We both looked at the belly that was now pushing out between his shirt buttons.

"Don't go" my boss said urgently.

I WAS going!

"Stay... please. I'll lose it, I'll diet. Just don't go because I'm so FAT" My boss whimpered.

This was twisted. Here was my Boss was begging for me afraid I'd reject him because he was fat. At the same time I could feel him getting fatter. As he clutched at his inflating flabby gut and whined, I slipped out, praying he wouldn't follow me. Maybe it was cowardly but I couldn't cope with it all. I still wasn't even SURE what was happening!

One thing for sure. I was thinking about fat hunks WAY too much!

I made it through lunch all right. When I got back, I prayed that my boss wouldn't be around. To my relief he was never out of his office. It seemed forever until I could leave work and headed out.

On my way home I followed my usual routine and cut through the park. It was the usual pleasant crowd on a warm late summer afternoon. Things seemed normal again to me and I relaxed. I stopped by a group of men playing basketball. Some of them played shirtless, their bare chests glistening with the heat of the game. A few of them had enough fullness in the middle to really catch my eye. All of them were very nice to watch so I sat on a bench near the field and decided to enjoy the game.

I wasn't a little regretful to see the game finally wind up. The men were still on the field collecting their stuff and I got up with a sigh. How often did I long to be approached by just one of those men - heck, any of the guys in the park!

"HEY."

I turned around to see the men on the field signaling to me.

"Could you please come here?" a big brawny tan man asked politely.

I didn't feel too worried. There had been enough red ribbons, rainbow theme T-shirts and other clothing to let me know that they were not the sort who would hate a man watching them.

"Did you enjoy the game?" another fellow asked kindly.

"Sure. You were all great to watch in action."

Suddenly a chunky guy with a hairy chest pulled me close to him.

"I'm glad you said that!"

"Thanks," I said feeling flustered (to say the least).

Imagine my surprise when I felt the pressure of another male body pressing from behind.

"Hey you guys let me get a chance at him!" Another masculine voice called.

"What about me?"

"Don't hog him!."

In moments, I was being groped at by dozens of hands, that pulled at my shirt, my trousers, my crotch... Not only my basketball players, but joggers, skaters, bicyclists. I was at the center of a crowd of men all interested in getting at me.

How often had I dreamed of something like this. Now it was happening and I wasn't very happy with it...

Pushing to the ground, I somehow just managed to wriggle through the sea of legs that were still trying to move ahead and feel me.

Maybe even more than feel me. A LOT more. When I looked up, I noticed that a lot of the baskets above me were VERY overloaded...

I made it out of the crowd when they noticed I was getting away. A sea of men moved at me. A sea of men all handsome, hot and horny...

For me.

My usual Mondays were NEVER like this.

I began to run, knowing that if they ever got me, walking would be VERY painful afterward.

From the safety of a tree, I watched them all searching for me. My mind kept yelling that this was INSANE. These things only happen in stories, STORIES.

Suddenly something clicked.

I once HAD written up a scene like this. A scene where a group of love crazed men chased the object of their desire for several sexually charged pages.

Then I thought of my boss in the office. The fantasies I had created about the sexy inflating executive...

It was as if my dreams and desires were happening, If I could be on top of the situation, I would have everything I ever longed for. But I had to be ahead of the game. Stuck in the tree I was far from ahead of it -- if anyone below knew where I was, I would have had my first gang-bang.

It was very late when I finally snuck home, but while I was treed, I had had all the time in the world to work things out. In fact I was kind of looking forward to waking up the next day.

At night the same mundane dreams formed in my mind. Wandering about, cleaning house, filling out papers... I heard voices again too, this time louder.

"He's figuring it out...," "Good then we can finally be with him...," "I want him so much!..." Obviously they were talking about me.

Walking to work that morning I was more than a little afraid my conclusion in the tree had been wrong. What if I was going bonkers?

Then I passed a patrol car.

Inside was a very slender officer.

Nibbling a carrot stick.

My heart sank.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?"

I had nearly passed by the car completely when I heard that question. I turned and went back to the window where the cop was now waving me over.

"Sure."

"My partner went in to the bakery at the corner to pick up some supplies. Can you tell him to get his can back into the car?"

I knew I was pushing it when I asked, "Do you want anything too?" But I had to know if I had been right.

When the policeman heard me, he thought for a moment and looked unhappily at his carrot stick. He grinned and replied, "I shouldn't be doing this, but could you ask him to pick up a few turnovers for me - apple?"

"No problem."

I headed to the bakery, a smile of relief on my face.

Inside I found his partner rather busy with a tray of cinnamon buns. No one seemed to notice that he was simply scarfing down. Or that he had untucked his shirt so that his belly was now sagging out from below.

"You partner is waiting for you?"

"Hmmm?" The cop lifted his head in a daze and then realized. "Oh shit! He's waiting?"

"Oh and he wants you to bring some turnovers too." I added daring to pat the fleshy skin that showed over his belt. He smiled as I stroked him and whispered into his ear.

"Make it a tray for him too!"

I left the bakery whistling and slipping a slightly cinnamon-y scrap of paper with a phone number in my pocket. Then I headed straight into the park...

"Hey there he is!"

"Don't lose him."

Quite a few of the men from yesterday afternoon were still there and were still after me. But now I knew how to handle it.

"Hold on! You really want me?" I said.

"YEAH!" the crowd said.

"Well the moment each of you men gain at least forty pounds, I'll think about it."

All the men milled around looking puzzled.

"He wants WHAT?" "FORTY pounds?" "Put on weight?"

"You heard me," I told them, "at LEAST forty pounds and I'll take each of you, starting with the fattest stud first!"

I saw a few men begin to head in the direction of the snack stand and I smiled and pointed at them. "Hey guys, don't let those men steal a march on you!"

Giving me some longing looks, they all headed off for food and to make me deliver on my promise. I walked of chuckling over how many musclemen would be larding up just to get ME.

At work, I walked straight into my boss' office. He was seated at his desk wearing an extremely tight suit. Well actually after yesterday's encounter, I could assume that a lot of his suits were now extremely tight.

"I have something to say to you!" I said as I locked the door. My boss blushed and tried holding his chest out.

"You are becoming a fat pig, you know that."

"No..." my boss whimpered.

"Cut it out" I said as I poked a finger into his pudgy shirt front. "You hate being fat don't you?"

"Yes!"

"Well, you are going to get fatter Mister."

"Oh no!" But even as he moaned, we could both see the flesh of his gut push out.

"Oh yes! You are going to get a big fat belly and that chest of yours is going to really bulk out," I added as I squeezed a nipple that outlined in the stretching fabric.

He moaned again, but this time happily as I played with his expanding tits.

"You are going to burst out of that shirt fatso!" I said as I poked a finger into his dominating navel. Sure enough I could hear the snaps of threads giving way against his swelling torso. As he struggled to get his jacket off I smiled to see how his shirt sleeves began to separate at the shoulders. He was now a very sexy twenty pounds fatter.

"I can't stop!"

"Of course you can't stop you SOB!" I said fiercely as I stroked his broadened chest. "Anytime you get together with me, you are going to get fatter and fatter..."

"I can't. I won't lose it..."

"Then you can't have me, chubbo." I pulled away from him.

He looked at me. Then at his own oversized waist. Then at me again...

He got up and walked over to me as well as his tight pants would let him. I smiled as I watched his belly flop out when he opened his belt...

Down we went on the carpet, tossing off our clothes, or should I say I got naked and helped my boss wriggle out of his confining pants, briefs... even his socks took effort...

But was worth it... TRUST ME....

It was pretty much empty in the place when I opened the office door to leave. I could see my boss in his washroom standing naked in front of a mirror. He was holding his new-swollen paunch. "Good night fatso!" I said sweetly as I left...

Whistling I headed for home, cutting through the park of course.

None of the men could be found playing their usual games, or jogging, or just hanging around. Instead every man I saw was hunched over food - hot dogs, hamburgers, French fries, goulash - you name it. And they all had their eyes on me. Almost every one of them had a gut that looked stuffed and yet they were still chowing down.

But I was in control now. I sat down beside a very muscular man who was making his way through several cartons of pizza and began to stroke his belly. He moaned happily and formed a wet spot in his shorts. Putting down the pizza he began to lean towards me for a kiss.

"No, you don't," I said, "first the forty pounds." At that he began eating eagerly.

Unlike my boss, they were all fattening up at a normal weight. Which gave me time and I kind of like the idea of having each man present himself to me in the hopes that he had become fat enough to be worthy of a night with me.

This was getting to be very ego-boosting.

Leaving the men to their broadening activities, I walked by the little open air theatre in the center of the park. Usually there is always some sort of summer cultural event going on. A small classic quartet, drama, avant-garde stuff...

I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw a group of fat men in tights performing modern dance. Still, I was and I have to say that I sat in that theatre amazed as I watched them move. Some fat men really do know how to move and in those tights everything bulged out marvelously from the contents of the dance belt to the chubby cheek of some of the rounder faced dancers. I was amazed to recognize some of the men on stage. A good number of them were very well known dancers. Yet they were all here and all FAT. I sat through a wonderful performance, even if I care more for the dancers than the art of dance itself.

As I got up to leave, I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a low voice "This way." I turned to see a very attractive dancer in a flowing shirt and colorful tights grinning at me. Needless to mention, he grinned broadly.

Making our way back stage, my guide announced to the other dancers, "He's here!" In a flash I was being hugged by a large group of - well - large dancers. They all seemed to know me very well.

They ought to since I once wrote up a story of a fat ballet troupe.

Each happening was making the truth become clearer to me. Every story I wrote, every fantasy I had was becoming true. Not merely in a magical way, but blending into a part of my life. I wrote about my boss getting fat, well now he was soon going to get stuck in doors. I wanted to be the stud a man would do anything for, well I now had a whole park of men feeding themselves silly to put on forty pounds for me. Nor can I forget those blimping cops and the massive ballet company.

At least this wasn't insanity. -- Thank heaven! -- It was a new actuality based on everything I longed for...

And as I helped those beautiful fat men peel out of their tights, I knew I was going to enjoy this existence.

But why was I here?

For the rest of the night as I lay amidst the sleeping bodies of the wonderful, loving dancers, I could not stop wondering why.

Even though I risked rocking the boat I had to get an answer.

Eventually...


When I got home, having gotten a lift from the Ballet Troupe's hotel by a VERY obliging mounted officer (have you EVER ridden horseback with your arms wrapped around the big firm gut of a simply GORGEOUS man? Trust me, you should!), my phone was ringing off the hook. My boss needed me in his office DESPERATELY!

Well, solving the situation would wait for a little bit!

I was a little late when I got to the office as you can imagine.

"Where have you BEEN?" my boss barked at me. He still hadn't learned from our time together and was wrapped in what may have been the last suit he could still feel comfortable in.

"Don't yell at me, Blubberbutt" I said as I shook my head. As I said that I heard a ripping sound.

I knew where we were going to go this time...

"I bet your getting a REAL big ass" I murmured as I began stroking his doubled chin as I heard his pant giving up the ghost. The white cotton of his underpants was now easy to see as it pulled tight where his suit trouser gave way...

My boss stood up and I watched the remains of his suit drop around his ankles. His brief stretched obscenely now, pulled even tighter by a raging erection.

I began to rub it through the cloth, admiring how it strained more and more to get out of the tightening underwear.

"You are really packing it on big guy..."

"I can't be bigger..." he denied.

As if to disprove his words, my boss' briefs split wide open, letting his cock thud up against the underside of his belly.

I began to rub it back and forth against his gut. With every swipe of his rod, my boss' gut seemed to surge slightly more forward and downward. I buried my face into that widening surface, kissing his slit-like navel.

"Ooooh YES!"

"You like how that feels against your flab, don't you big guy?"

"uh...huh...!" he gasped already too far gone to worry about his new gain...


"It's about time!" my boss shouted angrily over his mineral water. He had discovered that he had put on three pounds over the weekend and he had been an ogre all day...

"The LAN was down, I had to run out and get the files on diskette," I responded as I put the printouts on his desk.

"Well, I need the rest of the numbers out by tonight, dammit!"

"I'll get it!" I said, swallowing hard, trying not to let him see the anger boiling in me. I walked out of the office and started setting up the new calculations on my computer...

This was going to take hours and the lousy ***hole wouldn't care less that I had spent a small fortune on theatre tickets for tonight... Even if he didn't really need these number till next week.

"Damn, Damn, DAMN!!!" I said as I punched the keys....


I woke up with a headache and feeling FURIOUS with that bastard. Then I heard my boss' snore above me. It took me a while to clear my mind and remember that "that bastard" was now stark naked and forming a very comfy pillow with his considerable middle.

Covering his sleeping form with a couple of coats, I dressed and slipped out of the office.

It had been only a dream, but it was also a slice of my old life. I was no longer just curious about why I was here. It was more than that now. I wanted to know what had happened to the day-to-day world that I used to live in. I also needed to know what direction this life was going to take.

I walked home, trying not to pay attention the masses of massive men who were seemed to be flaunting themselves all over the place. Getting home, I sat down to think the whole situation out without distractions. I made myself a cup of cocoa and looked over all the old papers I had still kept of my stories and art. I knew they all fit into this - wasn't that obvious? So did those ordinary dreams and that nightmare.

Someone - who knows anymore? - once stated the idea that at times dreams and fantasies are really another reality seeping into the world we know. Our imagination just creatively defines them - or definitely creates them - I am not sure...

In my case it seems that instead of the other reality seeping into my world, I seeped out. All that was left of what had once been reality were the dreams that I had - the dreams of the old regular day to day life...

But people just don't SEEP out!

And if this was my world, what would happen to it if something happened to me?

My mind began to race forward, pulling things apart and putting them back together. When I knew I had an answer, I thought it all through again in a nice warm bath.

After making sure I made sense - and getting a bit water-pruny -- I got out of the tub...

Got dressed in my sexiest outfit...

Walked to the roof of the building...

And JUMPED.


Before I could even feel the downward rush, I felt something whiz through the air and grab me with a strong hand.

A something in a mask... With a cape... And an almost obscenely over-packed set of tights.

Now I knew what I needed to know.

In a moment the Muscled Avenger had set me down on the ground.

"What the hell were you doing!?!" the superhero demanded to know.

"What do you think, Eddie?"

"Eddie? I don't know who you are talking about!"

"Oh cut it out, Eddie. I created you when I was ten and the name MUSCLED AVENGER was silly even then. Besides, this whole place is based on MY imagination isn't it?"

"Yes" The Muscled Avenger said.

"But why?"

"Because we love you!"

"WE?"

"We - every character you ever created." The superhero said, "You have a very strong imagination. We felt your mind powerfully over here and we knew that we wanted to be more than just images in your mind. We had to feel you, be with you and," here the Muscled Avenger licked his lips and rubbed the bulge running down his thigh, "act out some of the erotic stuff you always fantasized doing."

"So why in hell didn't you tell me in the first place?" I asked as I watched the swelling crotch that was straining his spandex.

"We were scared it might unhinge you, we... ahh... wanted you... oop... to get used to it first..." Muscled Avenger shifted uncomfortably, his hand on his thigh. He was WAY ahead the game here.

"I nearly DID lose it," I answered glaring at him. Glare as I did, he only smiled at me hopefully and look wistfully at my groin. "I am not ready for THAT right now."

"Eeep!!!" the Muscled Avenger answered in a disappointed squeak. Then I was treated to the unusual spectacle of a superhero coming in his tights. So much for all that "Super Control" he was supposed to have!

"You hypersexed IDIOT" From the bushes, the evil Dr. Gorbel came out of hiding looking very irritated. Not evil -- just annoyed.

Seeing his long time foe, the Muscled Avenger went into a defensive pose.

"Oh cut it out M.A.," Dr. Gorbel said in annoyance. "Right now we have more to do than act out our usual plot line." He then turned to me. "My dear young man, can't you see that this whole world hinges on you being here?"

"Yes I do. And you brought me here, didn't you?"

"Of course. We couldn't be there so we had to bring you here."

"To be your toy, or plaything?"

"Oh no, no... Has anyone made you do something you didn't want to do? Look at our embarrassed friend here," Dr. Gorbel motioned at a violently blushing Muscled Avenger who was trying unsuccessfully to hid the rapidly spreading wet spot in the front of his tights. "M.A. here couldn't touch you, overloaded as he was-- I do say, M.A., you really DO come buckets don't you? -- We could never control you here. As we told you, this world is a reality that is linked to YOU. We can bring you into it but that is all. If anything, we can be YOUR playthings."

"Would you want to be MY playthings?"

"If that's what it took to be real to you."

I stood there looking at these men in front of me. The best work of my early teens. I had to hand it to them. What sort of writer doesn't want to see his creations take on their own life?

And as I took a look at them, I still felt the same feeling I did when I did a really good drawing of them. And I have to admit, I still found the bad guy somewhat more of a turn on. The sleekly evil face of Dr. G., made me wonder why I stopped drawing him. He was - I confess - far sexier than Muscled Avenger, handsome as the hero was. But then again, villains are always easier to keep interesting than full time heroes...

And they wanted to be real for the man who fantasized about them. To share their world with me even if they knew that it would no longer be just their world. I was being offered an alternative to the world of dulled hopes and unsuccessfully chasing after dreams. Hell, hopes were shiny from use here and dreams were chasing ME!

"Of course, we would even send you back if that's what would make you happy."

I didn't have to hesitate to answer that!

"Hell no!"

At my reply, The Muscled Avenger looked relieved if a bit sticky. Dr. G. grabbed me and gave me a deep kiss. He may have been evil, but the kiss was GOOD!

"Can I call on you soon?" Dr. G. asked happily.

"If I don't put you behind bars first." The Muscled Avenger said.

"Oh, go dry off, Monica!" Dr. G. said before rushing off.

"Who else am I going to meet?" I wondered aloud.

"A lot of men," The Muscled Avenger said wistfully, "Just give it time..."

He looked so pathetic as he stood there gazing longingly at me. I felt a little sorry for my Superhero so I took his hand and smiled. "Come back upstairs, Eddie" I said as I led him to my place.

As I bent over to put his tights in the wash I felt the Muscled Avenger pushing behind me. This time, I smiled as I felt his stiff cock, glad that he had the standard super endurance...


In the morning, as I lie in bed, an old saying comes to my mind. The one that states that when the fates want to punish you they give you all you longed for...

Opening my eyes, I smiled as I saw the stocky figures in bed with me. The sun was streaming in allowing me to better admire the charms of the three undressed sailors who are laying beside me. (Well why not sailors!).

Seeing them I know for sure that whoever coined that saying had no idea what they were talking about...

One by one I tickle them and wake them up.

"Good morning, sexy"

"Rise and shine, love"

"Wakey wakey, cutie..."

Sitting back on the mattress (I had to give up on my bed after the Legion of the Chubby-Heroes smashed it to bits. I hosted a beer-blast for them. After guys like Inflato, Major Massive or the Engorger tap a few kegs, their mass can really push down! But that's another story) I watch them getting dressed -- struggling to get their sailor whites on...

"Can you help me get these zipped up?" One sailor presents his overstuffed pants, the fly wide open with a very long firm obstacle.

"You're just getting too chubby to fit in those pants" I say with a smile.

"Well can't you help anyway?"

"I could use help too," the second mariner approaches me as he tries pulling his shirt to cover the lower half of his round belly.

"Don't forget me!" The last man adds, hiking up his pant over his massive moon.

So I let the navy join me -- again.

After the sea branch of the armed forces leave for their ship - looking very whale-like and quite happy -- I take a call from the manager of the Buffalo Bisons. I promise to be there to after the team wins tonight. I'm the official mascot of the team, and in my case the duties of mascot include a lot more than just being there. Actually, I may be the only mascot who never can be at his team's games.

They get too horny.

I think they'll probably take the pennant. Not bad for a baseball team where each player is at least thirty pounds fatter than average. Beer bellies, love-handles, ham thighs and all, they are beating the pants of the other teams on the league. Never mind their own pants. The pitcher has split more pant-seats on winding up...

Actually I never wrote up a pitcher who did that, but who am I to knock an improvement like that?

Finally I leave the house. Naturally I have to stop and chat with the policemen parked at the corner nearby. They had just started this beat a month ago. Very slim men too, I remember.

"What's new?" One of them asks.

"Well, I heard that an increasing number of Municipal Policemen have to go off on disability -- for extreme overweight."

"Can you imagine?" One of them murmured and he wolfed down another doughnut and adjusted his belt under the sack of belly fat he was growing. "We're still slated for the Super-bowl this Sunday?" He asked when his mouth was clear.

"As long as you guys show up -- in uniform."

The other officer nodded, burped, and tried to redo the button that just popped open where the steering wheel pushed into his middle.

"Then its fine with me." I said as I left them. I figured that by the end of the Superbowl, I'd have two huge cops in my living room who would be too fat for even the biggest uniform the Municipal Police Force had to offer.

As if that would be a problem!

Strolling through the park I am stopped by very tall man who is all but falling out of his outgrown jeans.

"I topped another thirty pounds this month."

"Great," I say as he pulls up his shirt to show off his hard earned belly. It is a beautiful example of beer consumption, hanging hard round and very firm. I have been working my way through that crowd in the park and sometimes I will ask a particularly sexy guy to fatten up a little more if he could. Because of this, lot of them are proud to show their bellies now. It's a sign that they had me (and vice versa).

"Evil Doer!"

"Try and get me now, you great big caped lummox!"

As I round the corner, I see the fiendish Mass Master running away from a crowded phone booth. How many villains did I create to change the size of people? Obviously, they clearly enjoy their work.

Approaching the booth, I have to keep from giggling when I see the noble upholder of right, Mister Superior, looking very perplexed. For one thing, the waistband of his tights are around his knees. Unbound, his growing crotch wedges Mister Superior into the back of the booth.

"Zapped again, Charles?"

"I heard a cry for 'Help' and rushed in here and changed from my identity as mild mannered CPA..."

"And he got you in a frontal attack."

"Kind of..."

Crack! The constant pressure of the fleshy ram cause the door to finally break off its hinges. Charles shuffles out, holding his overly abundant endowment like an oversized bat.

"How long will it keep growing?" I ask , watching the hero trying to hide the swelling hugeness of his penis and balls with his cape.

"Last time, he got my ass growing for an hour."

"I remember that." I say with the warm smile of memory. I put an hand on the sensitive underside of his head (the lower one). "Want to wait it out at my place?"

"I was hoping I could. We might as well enjoy it while it lasts..." He said, leaning back slightly to balance the weight of the log in front.

"Taxi!"

Well you can't expect a man in his condition to fly!


Later on, a somewhat more streamlined Mister Superior drops me off at my office building. Everything is running as always and I go into my boss' office and smile at him. He smiles back nervously as he tries to suck in what stopped being held in a long time ago.

"Hiya Tubby."

"You're late..."

"Had to help out a friend."

"It's keeping you away isn't it?" My boss says "You've been away for over a week!"

This is true. I realized that the sex for both of us gets more intense if my boss works himself up into a fat-induced frenzy of fear. And its nice to treat him to some of the anxiety he used to spread around the office. But those aren't the main reasons. In truth I care too much for this jerk to want to overload his body. So sex and gaining in limited doses seems to be best.

So now I say the words he hates and yet loves to hear.

"What's it to you, Thunderbuns? You just can't stop getting fatter can you?"

"Please."

"And fatter..."

I hear the seams begin to split on his custom tailored suit (he is too vain to get the XXXL stuff off the rack and forget about those stretchy tentlike workout clothes) as the blubber begins to grow. He groans as he feels his cock stiffen in the midst of his growing thighs and gut.

"I bet you're stuck in that chair."

"Oh, oh..." He can feel his thighs beef up and wedge into the chair arms. I see his belly working out of his shirt. My boss is just about to burst out of the suit and the chair and it is only getting him more desperate to come. He still hates how fat he is getting, but the sexual charge he gets out of bursting yet another suit and making love with me keeps him in thrall.

After lovemaking, I shall measure him and call up the tailors for a new suit.

With room to grow.

After all, he can't help it here!

What man can?


THE END