DEVIN MEETS HIS COACH

“Time for this, Fatboy.” Devin could barely tear his eyes from his own enormous belly, still stunned to be looking at himself and not a dreamlike image. He again tried to focus. 

‘This,’ he realized, was a doctor’s scale. Apprehension at the truth of his weight flashed through his mind, but then his cocky jock instinct kicked in. He wanted to show off for Coach, to prove he was making weight. He lumbered to the scale in a trance, eager grin forming as his feet hit the base plate with a thud. He stood erect, thrusting his mangut out in full glory. But then he flinched. The cold metal of the upright pressed mercilessly against his belly. But then he shoved his gut out proudly again, leaning into it.

“We’re not going to get a reading this way,” Coach said as his guided the jock to face belly out. Devin heard the weights clack against the level. Clank. Clank. Coach let out a low whistle. Clank. Every audible sign of his girth made Devin more aroused. Coach let out a low whistle.

 “Wh-what’s it say?” 

“Oh, FATboy. You’re too fat for this scale. But not FAT enough, now are you? Time to fatten you MORE.”

“More??”

“I know what you want, you fat, greedy, ravenous Jock. You built this muscle trying to satisfy it. Told yourself the muscle bulk would be enough. But it never would be, until you grew THIS!” 

Coach smacked Devin’s belly, and it resonated like a bass drum. He pushed it out even more, with an involuntary groan. Devin’s head fell back on Coach’s chest, further shoving that gut into Coach’s hands like asking for it, dissolving into his now unstoppable desire.

“This muscle you built? The more you bulked up? The more you packed on mass, the more you thought, I’m building strength to carry THIS.”

Oh, Coach knew everything, every gluttonous urge.

Coach smacked his Jock’s belly harder, planting his hands on its widest bulge, hoisting its growing tonnage up and down to emphasize its enormous, engorged heft. Devin was gasping, Coach and Jock shoved together, body against body, lustfully breathing in unison.

“You want to be fatter . . . (thump) and fatter . . . (THUMP) and FATTER (THUMP THUMP!) and – ”
“Fatter Coach.”

“What?”
“I need to be FATTER!”

“What?!” 

“FATTER FATTER FATTER FATTER!!!”

Coach grabbed his prize jock’s hands in his, pressed them into the giant ball of flesh.

“Remember you asked for it.”

To be continued.