Brookside Medical Part 3

At once the elevator doors separate and 6 hunky and soon to be chunky young men are escorted into a hallway that seems to stretch on forever. The stretch of floor is made up of marbled tile that matches the cream color pillars that line the regal walls. No overhead light is provided, but numerous torches provide calm, yet angry, lighting. Each robot servant brings, or rather, drags its boy into his assigned room. One by one each heavy door is opened and closed, becoming a prison for the fat men to be.

Each of the 6 classroom sized rooms is identical. Upon being forced in, each man notices the abundance of food available in his room. Literal piles of fattening food at least twice as tall as the tallest lacrosse player cover the entire floor. Every junk food imaginable: pizza, pastries, pastas, huge candy bars, fried delicacies, fast foods, etc are included in the mountains. Each naked boy is thrown by a strong robot into the center of his room, into a massive pile of the world’s unhealthiest foods. Each sees the high ceiling, all equipped with gaping holes and random piping ending with funnels hanging down to a reachable level.

One boy, the short one with dark hair and piercing eyes, reaches out for a funnel. While trying to grasp his bearings he can feel his ass sinking into the icing of a soft cake underneath him. As soon as he can reach the piping, a thick, milky substance starts flowing out of the long pipe uncontrollably onto the short man’s toned abs and pecks. He lets go in shock, and the tube stops pouring out the thick liquid. He’s covered in the cold stuff, but it doesn’t bother him. He’s too captivated by the intoxicating sweet smell to notice the temperature. He has to have this substance in him. He reaches for the clear tube and sticks it into his mouth. The man could swear that he just felt a french fry hit his face, but he can’t tell you that that fry alone with many other foods are falling at random from the sizable holes in the ceiling. He’s too absorbed in the liquid to notice.

In another room Chad, the extremely handsome lacrosse player with sharp features and a chiseled body, screams. Of course, nobody can hear. Nobody except Brenden, who sits in his control room and laughs his growing, naked ass off. He grabs a bottle of lotions as most of the men take to the food.

/////////

Several weeks pass, Brenden grows tired of the same old routine. Everyday checking up on his growing pigs; eating exurbanite amounts of the world’s best foods. Everything, for the most part, has gone exactly as his impulsive plans said they would. There’s just been one hitch…

Taking his attention off the hitch and refocusing on his communication glass, he sees that he’s been notified that an old friend has come to town. Immediately Brenden invites Bill, or as he’s currently known, Stephen over to his new place.

Brenden and Stephen go back about as far as any two friends, if you could call them that, can possibly go back. In their hay day, Stephen was the richest man on Earth, actually paying for the original funding of Brookside Medical. Of the handful of powerful leaders still left, Brenden and Stephen were the only two who still would occasionally keep in contact over their numerous lives. Stephen, as no exception to the harsh hands of immortality, has succumbed to his own vices. But no amount of gaseous alcohol has yet to bring him to a well-deserved and torturous death.

As for why these two men still kept each other company, well, it’s rather touching considering the horrible nature of the two. Of everyone currently on their planet, as far as anyone could tell, they were the only two immortals who both were keen for extremely fat men. Every life that they meet in, Stephen is wildly impressed with Brenden’s ability to constantly come up with new ways to make his men, and himself, bigger and fatter than ever before. They’re the only two who truly get each other.

So that evening, when Stephen walked through the front doors dressed casually dapper and holding an a-cig (evaporated alcohol e-cig), Brenden made sure he was laying naked on the foyer couch. Greasy ruben sandwich in one chubby hand, bottle of half drunken soda in the other. Monstrous gut bulbing out, recently starting to grow slight stretch marks.

“Hello my old chum!” Brenden exclaims in a sarcastic old British accent, looking passed his man tits and to the handsome and toned new body in front of him. Stephen can’t be more than 25, looking pristine and well-groomed in his golf shorts and polo. His attitude is cynical, like everything in his mind is terrible and so is everyone else. Stephen looks at the man turned pig in front of him with hazel eyes below tufts of semi wavy hair. He can’t help but notice those chubby arms on that once thin body, that double chin, those wide and flabby thighs.

“You’ve got no idea how much I want to shag that new body of yours.” Stephen tells the rugged fatass in an equally cheesy accent. He’s thinking about how Brenden must be over halfway to 300 by now. He knew Brenden had a knack for ruining himself, but this was possibly a new record.

“Well, it’s not gonna fuck itself.” Brenden says, dropping the accent and picking crumbs out of his substantial double chin in preparation for the clean man to fuck him. “Flip me over, I’m too stuffed to do it myself.”

Stephen takes a long hit out of his a-cig and stumbles over to the plump man and drunkenly hefts his body over so that a wide, globous ass is staring at him. Stephen drops his pants and makes the fatter man quake, right there on the couch.

///

The next morning Brenden is eating a robot prepared feast at the dining table when Stephen wakes up. He’s naked, as per usual, while Stephen sports his designer underwear. He enters the dining room filled with grunts and moans, takes a drag of alcohol, and makes himself a small plate of eggs and toast.

“I’ll take it you’re still not looking to come feed with me?” Brenden asks Stephen for the first time in this body. He already knows the answer, but he has to try every time.

Stephen gives Brenden a once over, looking at the body he knew for a fact was once as slim as his. My god, how he’s grown in such a short amount of time. “You know I’m just here to fuck the pigs, not become one.” He tells Brenden with slurred words, knowing that the fat man wants him even heavier than him. But, even as drunk as he is, Stephen could never make the decision to give up wild pig sex. He needs his stamina.

“Alrighhhhhht,” Brenden groans, “You’ve got to check out my collection this time around though. I’ve got a whole lacrosse team I’m ruining.”

After Brenden gets full enough to leave the table, the stuffed man takes the cute new man on a tour of the lower levels of the house. They start with James’ donut shop room, and Stephens pleasantly surprised to see that at least one of the pigs isn’t too far off from 350. James barely notices when the men come in. Laying on his much fatter back, it’s obvious the once cute boy is now passed the point of no return. His fat face is stuck to the teat of Robbo, who pumps out a custom liquid specifically designed to get James’ body as addicted as possible. The flavor of the liquid, possibly surprising, is jelly filled glazed. Stephen sloppily walks over to James and starts fucking his lard. At this point, if you had told someone that only a few months ago this guy was serving donuts in a small town with less than a beer gut, nobody would believe you. James moans, wanting Stephen to stick it up him, but Stephen’s too busy cumming in the fat folds between his side moob and belly. Stephen slaps James’ large body once more before he pulls Brenden off Robbo’s second teat and continues the tour. James doesn’t notice them leave, and doesn’t notice that there’s quite a bit of cum dripping from his fat folds.

Next Brenden takes Stephen to each of the lacrosse boys’ rooms. One by one, they see how each boy has fattened up. The boys range from sitting on top of the huge piles of food to being almost suffocated and sinking in the fattening mess. The common denominator? Most of the guys have fattened up very nicely in the past several weeks, especially the short one. They’re all experiencing softening jawlines, pot bellies, even some moobs and a few bubble butts. While most of them have put on maybe 40 lbs, looking like chunky jocks on a long offseason, the short one is already over 300lbs. He’s covered in stretch marks and fat rolls, his lard making him significantly wide considering he’s only 5’5. For some reason unknown to Brenden, this one gains at a much faster rate than all the others. Soon he’ll outweigh James, a feat not easy to accomplish. The ex-lacrosse player doesn’t care, though. He just lies face down on the huge piles of food and eats all day, every day. Laying down, fatter ass up in the air, ready for Stephen to use and abuse.

After looking at the first 5 men, after seeing how covered in food, bloated, and absorbed in gluttony they are, Brenden takes Stephen to the last room in the hall, the room containing Chad.

Before entering, Brenden explains the previously mentioned hitch. Chad won’t gain weight. No matter what he tries, Chad is the one guy who actually seems to have gotten more muscular since they got here. Brenden’s at a loss. Having a robot force feed him is no fun, and the bro won’t eat more than he needs. He hasn’t even touched his feeding tubes. He eats what he has to, and then works out all day. It’s absolutely insane. Before going in, Stephen messes with his a-cig for a moment.

When the two men enter the room, they find Chad doing pushups in a corner of the room that he constantly clears food from. He’s sweaty and covered in sauces and crumbs, but he’s as fit as ever.

“Wow.” Stephen says upon entering. “You’re the one boy who could resist, but I think I know exactly what you need, Chad.” The man stops working out but makes no other sign that he’s listening. “I’ll strike a deal with you Chad, if you can take a few hits off this cigarette and still resist, Brenden will let you go.” Of course Brenden neither cares or even notices. He’s grown hungry from all the walking and is sitting his round ass on the floor scavenging for another birthday cake.

Chad moves his angular face to look Stephen in the eyes. “You forreal? I blow a few puffs and then you let me go?” His voice quivers, he wants to leave so bad.

Stephen smiles condescendingly. “Yes, if you still don’t want to eat after, you may leave. Why don’t we try this out?” He throws the a-cig at Chad, who catches it with great reflex. Chad takes a puff, then another, and another. Brenden’s watching, not really caring if he has to lose chad or not.

“What the fuck did you put in this?” Chad demands to know. He’s on the ground, trying to focus. He now wants the slice of pizza sitting in front of him.

Stephen drunkenly laughs, “It’s just your basic a-cig, except I changed the alcohol for the same shit I manufactured myself and plan to put in most of this country’s food soon enough. I helped Brenden with the original chemical you all have been getting, but for that to work you had to be willing to give in. With this new stuff, you’ve got no choice. Sorry to say that you’re just a… guinea pig per se. But hey, looks like it works.” Chad’s already finished the slice of pizza and is moving on to a greasy pile of mac and cheese. He’s screaming “NO,” and “FUCK YOU,” over and over as he eats, trying to quit. His stomach is beginning to bow out with the sudden intake of food.

“Holy shit, man. You figured it out. You got the twig to eat!” There’s a huge smile plastered across Brenden’s fat, stubbly cheeks. He’s happy, now knowing that he’ll soon have another fatass in his house.

“Yeah, now I just gotta figure out what happened with the short one… I need whatever he has in my product.” Stephen says, already trying to rearrange his plans for the future. “You mind if I stay here some and research him?” He asks.

“Fuck yeah, do whatever you need to do. But you gotta share this whole master plan with me while you’re here.” If we’re being honest, Brenden’s just happy he’ll have a real human here to stick it in him for a while. He knows it’ll feel even better as his ass gets bigger.

///

Time passes, research gets done, many things quickly change around the house. Stephen and Brenden became practically inseparable as the crude men worked to get Brenden as huge as possible.

On the last day, Stephen makes his way down the elevator one last time before leaving the house to go continue the manufacturing of his product. He’s spent too much time researching here already. He’s as sober as he always is when he enters the 6th door in the hall, waiting to see Chad.

What he finds is no longer Chad, but instead a fat man on all fours vigorously sucking cream from a funnel at the top of a huge pile of food. When he enters, the fat man stands up as best he can and turns around, his olive skinned belly jiggling with the effort. His once angular face has grown into a distorted shadow of what it used to be. His double chin melds into his jowls, which melts into his thick neck. His broad shoulders frame his fat chest nicely. Two mounds of fat, connected by a shelf of blubber, rest on top of what used to be washboard abs. His belly had grown, expanding his happy trail, creating rolls of back fat and arms that eagerly replaced dense muscle with squishy fat and were shoved away by the fat accumulating on his body. The ass that had seen so many squats is now the size of two watermelons shoved together and covered in cellulite. His thighs started touching a long time ago, now constantly shoving into each other so hard that walking became difficult. Not that Chad like to walk much these days, unless he was trying to get to the other side of the room for a rather delicious looking burger that fell from the ceiling. Even his calves got fat, growing cankles. His fingers and toes? Chubby sausage links.

“Get over here, pig.” Stephen demands. Chad waddles/crawls over the food and to Stephen, who pushes him on the ground. “One last fuck before I go, lard ass. Open up.” And Chad does, knowing what now brings him the most pleasure.

“I can’t believe you did this to me, I can’t believe it fucking worked.” Chad says, trying to resist the urge to reach out and grab a piece of fried chicken. “I had a life, and you made me gain like 150 pounds you sack of shit.”

Stephen chuckles. “If you think that’s what 150 pound of fat looks like, get ready to see a much higher number on the scale than you were expecting. Now shut up and moan, you sack of lard.” Stephen pulses extra hard and Chad’s body shakes in response. He moans as he feels his whole body jiggle, disgusted with himself.

Once finished, Stephen briefly visits the other men’s rooms. All of them have grown steadily to become extraordinarily sexy 400 pounders. Of course they all gained weight differently in different places, but they all were slowly being dominated by their ever increasing fat middles. The men never dreamt of becoming so morbidly obese in their worst nightmares, but it wasn’t as horrible as any of them had thought it would be. Although Brenden did think it’d be funny to decorate their individual rooms with pictures of them in their skinnier days. Now, none of the fatasses will ever forget where they came from.

The short one, Mike, had been moved out of his room a while ago, being placed in a top research facility which has since let him easily grow to over 600lbs, into a proper superchub. They placed him in a large, reinforced bed and gave him whatever he wanted and let his weight skyrocket. Naturally, all the fattass really wanted was a tube constantly flowing with that cream from Brenden’s place. While he only takes up about half the bed with his gigantic belly, chest, arms, and legs, it’s certain that one day he’ll be able to fill up the whole thing. Stephen, personally, was looking forward to leaving the house and seeing Mike’s huge progress in person. Even though, if his plan succeeds, everyone in America will soon be following suit with the huge man.

Stephen skipped James’ room before leaving. Once he hit 450 lbs, the sack of blubbering fat was kicked out of the house, despite his pathetic protests. Stephen and Brenden both grew tired of the huge boy. He never did much besides suckle on Robbo’s teat and waste resources. Fucking him wasn’t even fun anymore, as he wouldn’t turn over for them and they couldn’t get him to open up when they physically did it. Waddling the streets naked, alone, and still covered in food, police soon investigated this fat man. Nobody claimed him, as James had forgotten his name long ago and his old friends/family didn’t recognize his disfigured shape. He now lives at an assisted living facility, constantly breaking into their kitchen and stealing all the donuts. Sometimes the other patients catch him complaining about how much he misses his old job, how he misses his favorite customer that came to rescue him so long ago.

While Stephen was making his rounds, Brenden went to the same couch where they had first seen each other in their current bodies. He wanted to lay on the couch, but they had broken it while fucking a while ago. So, Brenden lied on the rug, eating a few chocolate pies and waiting for his friend’s departure. Right before he left, Stephen walked in on (the much fatter than when he arrived just like everyone else in the house) Brenden.

“I’d turn over for you, but I’m way too fuckin’ full.” Brenden said through heavy breaths, hearing Stephen walk in. He couldn’t see the slim man in front of him over his extremely stuffed and full lardy belly. He traced the outline of a rather deep stretch mark with a chubby finger.

“No need,” Stephen says, taking a hit off his a-cig. “I’ve got everything I need as it is.” He examined Brenden’s body. He was approaching 400, which was a really good look on him. His fat arms were so cute, his ass was so perky, his cheeks so fat. Stephen loved the way his belly and fat pad had grown and shrunken his cock so much. He’d have to come back to visit when the man couldn’t reach it anymore. He undoes his zipper and pulls out his raging cock and sticks it in Brenden’s stuffed but soft belly fat. “I’ll see you around, big boy. I’m kinda hungry myself” He says with a pelvic thrust. He zips up.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around slim. I mean if you still that way when I see you next time. I’m not saying I drugged your cig but I’m not saying I didn’t. It’s only fair though, I know you’ve been pumping me with the shit since we first became immortal. It’s okay though, I think you’ll like it just as much as I do.” Brenden’s chunky face is serious, but Stephen’s too drunk to realize what’s actually happening.

“Alright lard ass, you got jokes.” Stephen slurs. “Don’t be a stranger big boy…. Do you know any good burger places around here?” And without waiting for an answer, the drunk man leaves. He’s going out to into the big, bad, and soon to be much fatter world.

FIN.