Bayroot Academy Part 1

*Bayroot Academy follows a group of men at a university academy as some very fattening changes are made. This was the first gainer story I wrote, so it details my horny 18 year old fantasies. Not much has changed since writing this.*

“Ouch!” I look up to see what just caused the semi sharp pain to pulse through my pinkie toe. My eyes glance from my foot to his, and I slowly trace the outline of my new English professor, Mr. Andrew Cox. I see his muscular thighs and trim torso as my gaze escalates, and I linger just a tad too long on the biceps that are bulging out of his short sleeves. Then Mr. Cox of Bayroot Academy for Young Men’s eyes lock with mine and I think for a second that I may have fallen in love. His mouth starts moving and all I can concentrate on are his luscious lips. After he’s done speaking and I’ve stopped swooning I put two and two together and realize that he just mumbled an apology and is already on his way to finding a seat in the stuffy auditorium. My first real interaction with the hottest god on campus and I didn’t even open my mouth - way to go.

Honestly I don’t think Mr. Cox would ever go for a guy like me, even if he were gay and he wasn’t my professor and I weren't a senior in his class. After all I’m just Connor Bradshaw, mediocre at everything and just kind of floating through life. At least I’m in decent shape; for someone who’s 6 foot, weighing in at 160lbs isn’t bad. But my brown hair and eyes do add an extra element of blandness to my overall look. Maybe that’s just my opinion though. Everyone’s always calling me handsome, or hot, or cute, or whatever but frankly I don’t see it. I’m just me I guess.

Anyways seats are running out fast and I know I’m running out of time so I pop a squat next to my friend, quarterback Ross Johnson. Although Ross has his some nice assets that I wouldn’t mind gawking at, I search the crowd and quickly spot Mr. Cox seated two rows ahead of me. I stare at the back of his glorious head; even his neatly trimmed hair gets me going. Or at least it does until Dean Snow, a pale, stumpy middle aged man with an obvious toupee, taps into the microphone demanding our attention.

“I know this assembly seems rather out of the blue, but I have some very special news for the students and faculty of Bayroot Academy. I’m sure all of you have heard the rumors that we will be the newest ‘guinea pigs’ for Feeding America’s Teens, and I’m here to confirm that we will, in fact, be introducing their new nutrition plan! We have our new director of activities, George Walker, here to speak to you all on the matter today.” Dean Snow gestures for this really big dude, who I guess is George Walker, to come on stage. The guy must be at least 400lbs of fat and can barely waddle up the 5 steps without his shirt riding up under his plump moobs. He has a thick goatee and is surprisingly tan for a fat guy. Ross nudges me and goes “Shit, what a fatass.” We both snigger while George pulls his shirt from under his fat rolls and takes the microphone. He speaks breathily and rather slow like he has to think really hard about the words he has to form before they come out.

“Hello boys and gentlemen,” he starts, “I’ll not only be your director of activities this year, but I’ll also be Bayroot’s Feeding America’s Teens official advisor. I’ll be in charge of applying any and all new changes to the school and making sure everyone’s happy. If you have any problems at all relating to the school’s or to F.A.T.’s services, feel free to talk with me any time.” George doesn’t seem like the smartest man but he’s nice enough. Waddling back off the stage, he hands the microphone to Dean Snow who then ends the assembly and dismisses us.

It’s only the second day of school and they’re already popping up with surprise announcements. That’s pretty typical of them, but I could care less. More pointless assemblies means more time out of class for me. When I get back to my dorm room I can see my roommate Cameron seems to agree because he’s taking what looks like his fourth or fifth hit off a bong he smuggled in.

“Damn dude, did you even go to the assembly?” I ask casually.

“Nah man. Why would I when I leave when I have everything I need in here?” he counters. And it’s a good point too. He’s got a mini fridge set up between our beds and our closet filled with snacks. Cameron’s been my roommate since freshman year (the first year you can come to school here at Bayroot Academy) and now that we’re seniors I’ve come to accept that he can eat like a horse and smoke all the weed in the world and won’t gain a pound. You’d never be able to guess how much he eats with that sly frame of his. He winks at me with his light blue eyes and adjusts his thick, sandy hair with his hands and asks me if I want a hit, but I decline. If I get the munchies I’ll be waddling like George in no time.

The school grind starts back up. I meet up with my friends I haven’t seen over the summer and even try to hit the gym a few times, but the doors are locked every time I try; everything’s just like it was.

A few days later I’m walking to English and I realize that Feeding America’s Teens has been bringing in these little food kiosks. The food joints seem to be popping up all over campus, ranging from burger stations to churro carts, and the prices are insanely low. I mean, who’s heard of a 50 cent burger, especially when they’re the size of your face? I’m not complaining though. In fact I even pick up two, one for me and one for Cameron if he decides to show up today, on the walk to class. I easily eat mine on the way there and walk into the classroom to see a groggy Mr. Cox reaching into a box of donuts. I think about other places I’d like to see him reach into as I take my seat. My future husband starts lecturing and it’s significantly harder to concentrate than it has been before, but I can’t figure out why. My stomach is kinda full, but I’m craving something greasy. I reach into my bag for that 2nd burger knowing that Cameron stayed up way too late gaming in his friend Taylor’s room to come to first period. As I’m unwrapping the burger I realized that I’m not the only one creating sounds of wrinkling paper. The sound of wrappers is overwhelming and I can’t think clearly because literally everyone in the class is eating something. I look around the classroom and see Ross the quarterback digging into a bag of fries, and Taylor, Cam’s freind, drinking a chocolate shake, even my health nut friend Bernie is nibbling on a giant turkey leg. Normally small snacks are allowed but I’m sure this mini feast has to be breaking some kind of rule. No one else seems to notice and my stomach begs for attention so I start on the 2nd burger and watch Mr. Cox work on that box of donuts for the rest of the period.

Lunch rolls around and the cafeteria is a madhouse. With food so cheap and rumors of prices skyrocketing, everyone feels like they have to get their fill while they can still afford it. My friend Larry, captain of the soccer team, has gotten trays worth of Feeding America’s Teens’ Taco Bell knock off food every day since they first announced F.A.T.’s arrival.

“You know we haven’t actually exercised at practice yet,” Larry says with a slight Mexican accent. Bits of meat are dripping out of his full mouth. “Coach Clark just has us watching repeats of last year’s failed games and tells us how to fix our mistakes. It’s boring as shit in there. Yesterday that fat guy George came in and asked coach if we needed a buffet table in the locker room for bulking season. We seriously all thought he was kidding; it’s obvious that sack of lard has never played a sport in his life… But coach took the Fatass seriously!”

“What’d Coach say?” Cameron asks.

“What do you think he said? The lazy fuck said ‘Hell yeah!’” Larry was obviously annoyed. Soccer is his life, he wants to play for Mexico in the Fifa World Cup one day, and if he isn’t in his prime shape for his first game this season he’ll be pissed. But I don’t see exercise happening any time soon. Coach Clark doubles as our government teacher and last period he shoved in a tape about the Declaration of Independence and polished off a tray of hot dogs while the class watched.

“And Ross told me that the football team’s only playing the last two games this year,” I add on, “I mean, who’s ever heard of a season only lasting for two weeks?” Ross sits next to me in English and we’ve been talking about all of this lately. He’s a lot more intelligent than you’d think but he’s kind of all wrapped up in football.

“This whole thing is ridiculous; I don’t even have a 4th period anymore,” Bernie adds on. “Ever since they got rid of Nutrition class I just don’t have a period there on my schedule. When I asked the advisors what I should do about it they referred me to George and he told me to just talk a long lunch… So lately I’ve been chilling here and checking out what’s good.” And apparently ‘what’s good’ are those chocolate bars he’s been shoveling down his throat. Bernie by far has the darkest complexion out of all of us, and his shortly cropped hair coupled with his lean muscle he looks totally badass. But it’s kind of hard to take him seriously when he’s apparently lost all self-control.

But maybe it’s not just him who’s been feeling a little weak lately. I have a hunch that that the overindulgence won’t be stopping any time soon.

/////

This morning in English Ross the quarterback told me that the school finally finished renovating the gym. He said he could really use the exercise because he’s packed on a few pounds since that assembly we had a month and a half ago, but I don’t think he’s the only one who’s been packing on a few. It seems that everyone here at Bayroot has been getting a little… dumpy. Even my roommate Cameron, who’s never gained an ounce in his life before this semester, is growing his own little gut. I guess the munchies were bound to catch up to him. I know for sure that my uniform pants are getting pretty tight so I agree to go to the gym with Ross. I invited Cam and he laughed and said he’d rather open a new bag of chips and chill in the dorm. Later I ask soccer boy Larry and he says that he’ll already be joining Cam tonight instead. Apparently without FIFA to motivate him he just doesn’t care about his team anymore.

Ross texts me to meet him at 7:00 pm for the grand reopening, and I’m there on time dressed in my stretchy pants for the occasion. Well, partly for the occasion, partly because most of my shorts dig into my sides and it’s getting annoying. My little roll of flab is nothing compared to what some of the guys have been putting on, though. I figure if I can stay at least slightly behind the average weight of the boys here, I’ll be fine. I try to get into the gym but the doors are locked and a pretty sizable group of plumped up guys have gathered in front, waiting to see the new equipment that’ll hopefully save their waistlines. It’s Friday night, so a lot of us are just looking for something to do, and none of us have had any sort of physical activity because of the coaches. I search the crowd and find Ross and we make small talk. He tells me that over the past month the football coach, Coach Simmons, basically told the football team that they need to bulk up and take a good long break so that they’re rested up for the first game next Friday.

“Yeah so basically we’re fucked, but I’m hoping Coach Simmons’ plan will work. Maybe with the added girth we’ll just shove them back to the goal line” he explains.

“Dude yeah and it sucks because you only have two games to prove yourself, but you’ve definitely been bulking pretty well. I mean the whole school has to put props to you, man.” A month ago Ross was like 180lbs of muscle, but he’s passed the big 200 and is probably creeping up on 215 now. He’s definitely what I would call beefy, and it looks amazing on his 6’4” frame despite his new stretchmarks. While I’m admiring Ross’s plump physique, George shows up, bulldozing his way through the crowd. He unlocks the door, giggles a bit, and shouts, “ENJOY YOUR GYM!” Despite George’s sketchy laughing, we all rush inside to see the month of renovations. What we find isn’t a gym though; it’s a room lit like an arcade and carpeted wall to wall. Instead of ellipticals and treadmills, the floor is littered with big, poofy couches sitting 5 feet across from TV’s hooked up with the latest video game systems. There are even little coffee tables separating the TVs and couches. Buffet tables line most of the walls, and on the opposite end of the room a line of gaming computers await, equipped with headsets and the works. Ironically the old motivational posters are still plastered to the walls, displaying slogans like “No Pain, No Gain,” and “If You Had Fun, You Won!”

Ross and I gaze in amazement, “Okay man, let’s work out!” he spits out and speed walks to the buffet tables, belly bouncing out of the bottom of his shirt. I notice that his ass is taking up way more room in his skin tight elastic shorts than it used to, but I’m not surprised because of how much this beast eats. The cafeteria custodians hate him because he can easily create a tower of trash in the 30 mins we have to eat. I follow his lead and we pile our plates with tonight’s mile high lasagna and bread sticks. The gym is free to all students at Bayroot, so I figure this’ll probably become the new hot spot for all of my friends and I. Ross and I find us a couch and both grab a controller and start alternating between playing online and devouring bite after bite of the delicious Italian food.  The lasagna melts in my mouth and the bread is soft like buttery little tasty pillow sticks. I eat and play and eat and play until I finally finish my third plate without realizing it. I’m full as hell, even with my growing appetite. I drop my controller and set down my plate, too full to move. A handsome man in a tux walks by and replaces my empty plate with a full one and I instantly realize that I hadn’t gotten up to get the other two plates. I ask Ross if he noticed.

“Nah but I don’t care, they can keep… *belch* bringing me lasagna forever, I love this shit.”

“Here, you want mine?” I ask, handing him my plate.

“Do you even have to ask? I’ve already finished off four and I don’t plan on stopping soon,” He looks like he’s finished off four too. Slumped back into the couch, his bloated belly is sticking out an inch or so from his shirt and his hairy belly is poking out even more than it was earlier. It looks blue in the lighting, and I can hear that his breathing is heavier than normal over the sounds of a few dozen gamers. His angular face has softened significantly from the added fat and his double chin is very prominent at the angle he’s sitting. His little bit of stubble is getting all caught up in the rolls, too. He still has some of his football muscle, but it’s all bloated with an inch or so of pudge, and he looks truly blissful sitting there stuffing his face. I’m getting tired so I tell Ross I’m gonna hit the hay and make my way to the dorms before I start craving more lasagna. I don’t even think he heard me.

I open my dorm room door and am instantly attacked by two shirtless bloated boys screaming “HEY! HEY CONNOR YOU’VE GOTTA SEE THIS!” Both Cameron and Larry excitedly waddle over to the closet doors with some difficulty. Their bellies are so full that they have to swing their legs a little to get around the pain.  I can’t imagine what they’ve eaten to get themselves so stuffed. They each open a closet door and with a cry of “VOILA!” A soda machine is revealed, alongside a thin rectangular slot built into the closet wall next to a control panel.

“Connor we got a soda machine AND a pizza button!” Cameron enthusiastically tells me.

“Oh my God that’s amazing! But damn how many pizzas have you had? And what’s a pizza button?”

“Four! Plus a shit ton of soda!” Larry answers. I want to ask if that’s four collective pizzas or four pizzas for each of them, but I’m a little afraid of the answer.

“And this…” Cam says,“is a fucking pizza button!” He turns to the wall and presses buttons on the control pannel. I very cheesy, very greasy pizza rolls out of the thin slot and into Cam’s hands. He plops down on his bed and moans a little because of the bloated pain. He shoves a slice into his mouth.

“Also George came by and told us we have servants now, dude you have no idea how good we have it,” Larry says, and I guess that explains those guys bringing us food in the gym. I fill them in on the new gym and Larry really wants to go right now but it’s too late.

“Okay if we can’t go tonight, I at least have to abuse the pizza button one more time,” Larry reasons.

“Well if he gets to, I want to too,” Cameron, somewhat aggressively, complains, still chewing a slice from the pizza he just ordered. He crosses his arms over his soccer ball sized belly. Maybe Larry can’t seem to get his eyes off Cam’s gut because of the ball it resembles.

“Alright cool you have one too then, I’m going to bed,” I say, done with the two of them and still very full myself. I crawl under the covers and Larry punches a few buttons and two pizzas fly out of the slit in the wall in clean cardboard boxes. I fall asleep watching the two pigs stuffing each other on Cameron’s bed and squirting soda into each other’s mouths from a 15 ft soda fountain hose equipped with a nozzle and everything. Right before I pass out I notice two ripped pairs of pants on the floor and think that that’s going to be a problem.