The Giant of Bright Tower, Chapter 3

“Steve. Hey Steve, you awake?”

My eyelids were heavy. Groggily I opened them and rolled over to see a dark mass taking up half my bedroom.

“…Bubba? That you?”

“Steve. Ya gotta help me, something’s wrong!”

That got me moving a little quicker. I tossed the covers back and swung my legs over the side. Waiting for my head to clear before standing I asked, “What’s going on?”

“I’m hungry, man. I’ve never been this hungry, my stomach’s growling so bad, it hurts.”

I reached over to find my glasses and clicked the bedside lamp on. Suddenly blinded, it was a minute before I could see. As my eyes adjusted, I focused on Bubba taking shape before me. He was in his raggy t-shirt and red boxers again. His hands were on either side of his belly, holding tight. His face was a combination of grimace and pleading.

Standing, I aksed,“I heard you downstairs before I dozed off. How did that late night snack make you feel?”

“Which one?”

I paused. “Umm, what?”

Through his grimace, Bubba managed a small smile, “Which late night snack?”

Five minutes later, I was standing in my kitchen. Stacked on the kitchen table were piles and piles of empty Tupperware containers. The fridge stood half open, revealing mostly empty shelves, Bubba’s own mini fridge door was open revealing nothing inside. Lying sideways on the ground were several empty weight powder containers. I stooped to pick one of them up.

“Did…did you even mix these with water?”

“Some of them,” Bubba was rubbing his hands over his belly, “Those were last. That’s when I realized I needed some help.”

I looked around. It was then that I noticed the wadded up tissues overflowing from the trashcan. “Uhh, what’s that about?”

“Oh.” Bubba actually looked sheepish, “Well…that’s another thing that’s been going on.” He gestured to his underwear, which was doing a poor job of containing a raging hardon.

My analytical mind took over, “Ok. First, let’s see what we’re dealing with. Time for our morning check in.” I took Bubba to the lab, drew some blood, got him on the scale, and took some measurements. I looked over all the data as Bubba sat nude on the exam table.

“What is it?” Bubba asked, “Your eyebrows just shot up”

“Well,” I began tentatively, “ I don’t quite know how to say this, given everything I watched you eat yesterday, and everything you say you ate last night.”

“Whatever it is doc, I can take it.”

I spun in my chair and looked him dead in the eye. “You’re down about 20 pounds from your first weigh-in, and you’ve lost about one inch in circumferences from your arms, legs, and chest and,” I paused, then rushed to get it over with, “about five inches around your gut.”

Bubba looked like I just told him he had cancer. Even as one hand caressed his belly, the other hand was pulling on his ever erect penis. I couldn’t take the look of pain on his face, I stood up and walked over to bear hug his beautiful belly.

“This is… not unexpected Bubba.” I spoke, rubbing my hands in wide circles. “My serums is suppose to basically rev up your metabolism, maybe even more than at puberty. My best guess is that it’s rev up so fast not even you can keep up eating with it.” I looked up to see his face. He chuckled, even as a tear slid down his face.

“I told you that I can turn it off and back on, right? I’m going to turn it off, we’ll figure this out, and we can try again, ok? I need you to trust me. This is not the end, just part of the journey, ok?

Bubba smiled, tears falling down his face. “You sound like my football coach when he was teaching me how to lift weights.” He wiped his wet face. “God, I’m gonna say that I’m blubbering from my belly really hurting. I feel like I could eat a horse.”

“So you’re ok with me injecting the antiserum?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

I went over to my desk and opened a drawer, revealing a dozen epipens. After an incident with Harold, I learned rapid administration of the antiserum was a necessity. I picked one up, walked over to Bubba and jammed it against his thigh. There was a tiny hiss of air and Bubba flinched.

“Ok. Done. Now It’s probably going to take about as long or longer for the antiserum to do its work. We just have to deal with your hunger until then. Aaaannnnd,” a sudden idea dawned on me, “I think I have an idea. You serious about being hungry enough to eat a horse?”

“hooves and all.”

---

I drove Bubba’s truck while he squished himself into the passenger side. I had thrown on some pants and a shirt, Bubba had just hoisted on some massive sweat pants over his underwear. His truck had been blocking my car in the driveway, and as I mentioned moving it Bubba’s belly gave a loud rumble; upon which he tossed me his keys. Bubba’s size heated up the cabin, it was starting to get really warm. I crackied the window, the night air rushing by gave some relief.

Bubba’s stomached growled again, “Ughhh. This must be what labor feels like.”

I grinned in the dim light of the dashboard, “You better not be pregnant, ‘cause it’ll hurt like hell pushing that baby elephant out.”

Bubba chuckled. “If I got a C-section, would ya still think my belly’s sexy?”

We both laughed, though Bubba ended in grunts. Rubbing his belly, Bubba asked, “You said we were going to the mall?”

“Yep. The mall is trying to go green. They started a program where they take all the leftover food from the food court and turn it into biofuel. I was part of it, engineering the enzymes they needed. Which is actually a pretty simple process, it just takes a long time. You see-“

Bubba put a hand on my shoulder, “I could not care less right now.”

“Right. So that’s where we’re headed. There should be a ton of leftover fast food there. You’ll be able to eat as much as you want. Burgers, fries, Chinese, pizza-”

“Stop! You’re making it worse.”

“Right, sorry. Anyway, we’re here.”

I turned right into the vast parking lot of Bright Tower Mall. I was at the opening of the program, so I had been to the place room only once before. I spotted the underground parking garage and drove in. I made two turns before coming to a large door in a concrete wall. I turned off the engine and hopped out, Bubba was a little slower. It was just the two of us in the small concrete enclave with a large double door saying authorized personal only.

I made my way to the door, Bubba somewhat close behind. Whipping out my keys, it took me a minute to find the right one. Finally, I unlocked the door and pushed my way inside, motion sensors turning on lights in response to our disturbance.

Four huge dark green tanks stood two by two in the center of the two-story room, connected with skinny metallic catwalks. A workstation was situated to the left, covered in random junk. A small computer station was attached to the tank on the right. The tank on the left had a column sticking out of it that attached to the ceiling.

“Is this it?” Bubba asked, coming to my side.

“Yes,” I was frozen, “But it’s different. This,” I gestured to the empty space in front of the tanks, “should be filled with carts and carts of food.” I walked forward, as if checking to make they weren’t invisible. “The carts were wheeled here. And then during the day they had was this grain elevator thing,” I waved my hand in the direction of where it should be, “that lifted food up to-“

My eyes landed on the column on the left tank that stretched to the ceiling.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“That column. I need to check.” I scrambled up the catwalk and started climbing a latter. Huffing a minute later, I was at the top. I knocked on the column, it made a hollow sound that vibrated up and beyond. A dome access was before me, with a bright yellow valve. It took me a minute of straining before it was turning easily. I lifted the lid and looked inside. A funky yeasty smell hit me in the face. The tank was full of what appeared to be a thick tan milkshake. I stuck my head in and looked around. A couple hamburger buns floated on top of the mixture directly beneath where the metal column attached.

“Steve! Steve what’s going on!? Talk to me!?”

I pulled my head back out and shut the tank. Twisting the valve, I called “They added this chute.” I walked over to the ladder and started climbing down. “They must have…gotten tired of wheeling food down here…so they cut a hole in the ceiling…and added a chute.” I reached the ground panting. I must be seriously out of shape if climbing a ladder winded me. Catching my breath, I turned to look up at Bubba, “I though there would be loads of food here, since it takes so long to bring it here and then get it up to the top of the vat. But I didn’t know they had made it so much more efficient. I think we’re right under the food court now,” I looked up towards the ceiling.

“So where’s all the food?” Bubba asked, hands cradling his gut.

“Its all in there,” I pointed, “It goes straight from the food court to the first vat.”

“There’s food in there?”

“Not anymore. All the leftover food have been broken down and liquidized by my enzymes into soup.”

“So there is food in there?”

“It’s been digested.”

“Steve!” Bubba grabbed both my shoulders and shook me, “I want a yes or no and I want it right now. Is it food?”

I paused, alarmed by the force he used to shake me. “…Yes, it’s food. Its been broken down into protein, carbohydrates, and fat. Then it will be piped to the second vat where it-”

Bubba stood up and moved towards the workstation. I stopped talking and tailed him.

“What…what are you doing Bubba?”

“It’s simple. If that’s food in there, then it’s going in me.”

“What!? Are you serious?”

“I am dead serious, Steve.” Bubba stared rummaging around the workstation. “I love to be full. I hate feeling hungry, and I have never felt so much pain from hunger in my life. Now you can either help me or stay out of my way. Because I am eating whatever is in there. Now help me find a hose or a bowel or just god damn SOMETHING!”

He shoved a pile of junk off the workstation. I saw so much pain on his face. I took a calming breath. Turing towards the vat, I knew I was looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what until I saw it.

“There.” I pointed, Bubba looked around. At the bottom of the tank was a spigot. Bright copper with a dark green valve, it stuck out at about my chest level, “That’s where they collect samples, instead of climbing to the top each time. So,” I picked up a long clear plastic tube and looked up at Bubba. “You sure about this?”

He nodded. Together we crossed the floor to the vat. I attached one end of the tube to the spigot and twisted tightly. Bubba took the other end and stuck it in his mouth. Stepping forward, he bumped me aside and placed his hand on the valve.

“You might want to taste it first,” I suggested.

Bubba shrugged his shoulders. Slowly he twisted the valve open. The thick tan liquid emerged, moving at a decent pace through the tube. We watched it spiral round and round through the coil of tubing on the floor before rising straight up to Bubba’s mouth. I saw his face twitch when it hit, and his throat started swallowing in regular intervals.

“What’s it…taste like?” I asked. Bubba reached forward and twisted the valve shut. He took a few more swallows before coming up for air.

“Not bad. Tastes a bit like some of my weight shakes. It’s a bit thicker, but no chalky, powdery aftertaste.” Bubba put the tube back in his mouth and turned the valve on again.

“Ok. Umm, want me to get you a chair?”

Bubba nodded. I went back to the workstation and grabbed a chair. I brought it back and Bubba plopped down. Leaning back, he relaxed with his eyes closed, swallowing every few seconds.

I stood back to watch, going over the logic of it in my head. Theoretically, it should be perfectly safe. The enzymes should have completed their job of breaking down the food and died off. Any that were left would be dissolved by stomach acid. My train of though was interrupted by Bubba choking and sputtering; splattering a great deal of mixture all over his front. I turned off the spigot, then I moved behind him and pounded him on the back.

“Ha…Ha…” Bubba gasped, “Ok, thanks. Damn.” Bubba set the tube down to pull off his t-shirt, using it to wipe his mouth. Tossing it aside, he exclaimed, “I can’t get this stuff down fast enough, it’s too thick.” He looked at the end of the tube. “Fuck it.” He opened his mouth and started feeding the tube down his throat.

“Careful. You could choke!”

Bubba waved me away. Feeding several feet of tube down his throat, he paused to take several deep breathes through his nose. Able to do so, he stood up and turned the spigot farther than it had been. The tubing on the floor whipped to life at the pressure, and Bubbas head jerked backward when it reached him. He let out a loud moan, whether from pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell. He stumbled until his back hit the vat and he sank down to his ass. His face was relaxed yet focused, his nostrils flaring on each deep breath he was taking.

I kneeled before him, wondering if there was anyway I could help. Tenderly, I reached out and felt his belly. It felt the same as before. I put my ear against it. Was that a faint whooshing sound from deep inside him? I pulled back and stayed on my knees, rubbing every inch of him that I could reach.

Bubba’s belly grew like a slowly inflating balloon. Expanding in all directions, it was like a flower opening it petals; you couldn’t directly observe the change, but you knew it was different than it had been a minute ago. Before long, I quickly noticed a problem and reached under to grab his sweats. He understood what I was doing, and started shifting around trying to help. I got them out from under him and pulled them down and off. He sat there on the cold, cement floor with his belly almost touching his knees. His eyes still closed, focused on breathing, Bubba was rubbing his growing gut with tender loving strokes.

I felt like I was in a dream. I pulled off my t-shirt and unbuckled my pants. Letting both fall to the floor, I knelt again and leaned my naked body against his growing gut. I suddenly recalled the triceratops scene in Jurassic Park where Sam Neill is leaning against it and is pushed back when it breathes in. I giggled at the memory. I pressed my growing hard on against the mass of warm flesh before me. Bubba’s hands slowed caressing the parts he could reach. Every so often, he would softly brush the back of my hands. We stayed like that for a while, both rubbing something we both loved, something that had brought us together; even though at the moment it was literally pushing us apart.

Finally, Bubba tapped me on my shoulder. I looked up to see his eyes were looking into mine and he was moving his flat hand across his throat in the internationally sign of ‘stop.’ I hopped up and walked to the spigot, twisting it shut. Bubba pulled on the tube with both hands until the end came out, splattering Bubba with the mixture until it finally stopped.

“Gaaaaaaooooohhhhh,” Bubba moaned, but he had a very content smile on his face. “Hoh boy. That did it. That hit the spot,” he paused for breath, “I have never been so full in my entire life and it…feels….awesome.” He let out a thunderous burp that echoed several times before vanishing.”Ompf, needed to let out some pressure.” Placing his hands on either side of his now mammoth belly, he looked at me and asked, “So what’s the damage? I can’t see too much.”

“It’s…amazing,” I walked around him twice to get a good, long look. “It’s huge and just about perfectly round. Sitting down, it sticks out past your knees. Can you even reach all of it?”

Bubba tried. He reached as hugged as much of it as he could, and his hands were still about two feet apart. We both laughed.

“Ughhh. Let’s see if I can walk with this thing.” Bubba rolled over so that only his knees and belly were touching the floor. Getting to his feet in a squatting position and grabbing his belly with both arms, he growled and hoisted himself to a standing position. He stumbled until his back hit the tank. Getting his balance, he took a cautious step forward, then another.

“Well,” Bubba looked at me, both arms still holding his belly up. “How do I look?”

I was at a loss for words. The towering bodybuilder was now wider than he was tall. His gut ballooned in front of him like another muscle he had been beefing up for years. Curving out from his buff pecs out past the reach of his arms and back to his waist, it was the granddaddy of all beer guts. And beneath it all, his dick stood high at attention.

“Bubba, I’m stuck between dropping to my knees and sucking your dick and fearing I’ll be crushed to death.”

Bubba laughed, “Ompf. I’d love to boy, but right now I just wanna lie down and sleep this off. Can we go home?”

I nodded. Bubba threw his shoulders back and moved forward like a tan boulder. I gathered our clothes in a bunch, pulling my keys out of my coat. I cleaned up quickly; most of the evidence we were here was walking out with Bubba. I closed and locked the door behind me. Turning, I stopped to take in the sight of Bubba sprawled out naked in the back of his own pick up truck. I snorted.

“What?”

I sauntered to the driver side, “Time to get you to the country fair, piggy. Let’s see if we can take home a blue ribbon.”

“Fuck you, boy.”

I laughed. Nude, I turned the key and the truck roared to life. I pressed my foot on the gas petal cautiously. I could feel it in the engine; how much harder it was working. I exited the underground garage and drove us home.

As I pulled up my driveway, I was thankful yet again for my choice to buy a home on a small plot of land, giving me near total privacy. This was a night where I did not want some insomniac neighbor peaking through the curtains. Turning off the lights, I had barley killed the engine when the whole truck moved. I hopped out to see Bubba walking up to my front door, and a whole new problem presented itself. After about 10 minutes of squeezing his way through my front door, Bubba made his way to the mattress in the living room and flopped down with a house-shaking thud.

We tried several different positions to get him comfortable before settling on having him lay on his side. I grabbed all the pillows an cushions from the sofa and stuffed them around his body so his weight was as evenly distributed as we could get it. Throwing several blankets over him, I stepped back to evaluate the multicolored mass in my living room. I heard the sounds of soft snoring, and I smiled that Bubba could actually sleep this off.

What the hell are we gonna do tomorrow?I pondered. Fuck it, I turned to the staircase and my waiting bed. We’ll find out then.