New Gainer Story - "The Mechanic"

This is the June 2021 story poll winner that you guys picked for me to write.   Oddly enough, it ties in very strongly with the gainer story I had already started writing before the poll was even put up.    This story acts as a prequel to "The Lab", which is a sequel to "The Final Step", so the last three stories I've released all follow each other closely.      

Warning - Contains: Extreme weight gain, slobs, forced feeding, immobility, death, very dark themes, bursting, pig behavior and other extremes.

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The Mechanic

By Lardfill, June 2021

Story Poll Winner

"Gunterson's Garage, what can I do for ya?" Roger asked as he answered the phone in the dingy office at his scrapyard.

Roger was the owner and sole worker at the scrapyard in a sleepy rural town in Maine, keeping an impressive collection of scrap metal, iron and steel, and countless rows of rusting cars waiting for a new life.    He spent his days repairing vehicles but also loved to experiment and play with his surplus metal, designing artistic sculptures and occasionally odd jobs for some of his more sexually adventurous friends.   He had designed, assembled and installed a sex dungeon with shackles, chains and iron bars for a kinky friend, as well as an assortment of fuck machines, robotic masturbators, and various sex slings and toys for multiple clients.   His blacksmithing and welding skills, vast knowledge of engines and electronic, and keen eye to detail and design had made him into a secretly successful master of metal depravity who always had an eye on the next unique project to create. 

The phone call that he answered had been a welcome break from his day of welding and assembling a chassis for a vehicle he was building, and it proved to be highly rewarding for Roger, who loved when a new puzzling project landed in his lap.  He toyed with the buckles on his size medium overalls as he talked on the phone, the only piece of clothing he was wearing that day.

"Hi?  Uh, I was wondering if... uh, you allowed people to use your scrap metal scale?" the husky voice nervously asked on the other end of the phone.

"Sure!   What kind of vehicle are you planning on weighing?" Roger asked, not really paying attention yet. 

"It's... uh...  well, it's not a vehicle - it's a person?" the voice said sheepishly.

"A person?   Oh!  Okay. Yeah, yeah, the scales here and ready to go any time," Roger said, still unsure of what to expect.  

"How much will it cost?" the voice asked.   "Oh, and when can we drop by?"

"It won't cost you a thing - don't worry about that!"  Roger assured.   "You can drop by any day between nine and five."

"Is today okay?" the voice asked.

"Sure!  I'm always here.   Roger's the name..." he introduced.  

"Thanks, Roger.  I'm Vic.    We'll be seeing you soon," the voice replied.  

Vic arrived an hour later, slowing down and turning off of the old country road into the parking lot of the quiet scrap yard.    He looked up through the windshield at the chipped and sunburned sign that read "Gunterson's Garage" and drove by the old rusted remains of the gas pumps that once fueled the vehicles that used to travel the road before the new highways made the route obsolete back in the 1970's.     He parked the van near the large open double doors on the hanger-sized back end of the old gas station building and then waited a minute for the dust to settle on the excruciatingly hot summer afternoon.

Roger was inside the large building, busy welding the frame of a dune buggy together when he suddenly tasted the dust in the air.   He stopped working and took his welder's goggles off so he could see.    At the big open barn doors, Roger could see the silhouette of a tall fat bearded man with a tank of a belly walking across the front of a dark red minivan and over to the van's side door.     As Roger approached, he watched in greater detail as the fat man helped someone else inside of the van, causing the suspension to groan and squeak and the van to rock and bounce.   

"Hello there!" Roger called out, echoing in the cavernous room.

The fat man stopped and turned, waving with a nervous smile and accidentally exposing his lower belly from the movement.   Roger could see that he was hairy all over, with his big sagging belly covered in coarse dark hair.   His belly was wide on top, but after the bellybutton, the lower belly narrowed slightly and hung in a pendulous rounded overhang.  He wore a t-shirt with a cartoon skull image on it, dark plaid shorts and big hiking boots with a big black beard and long black hair that he had haphazardly tied back in a loose ponytail but wild curly strands were everywhere, making him look like some overfed member of a metal band.   His shirt didn't seem to cover his entire belly or back, allowing for a sliver of hanging furry flesh to be visible on the front and a wide slab of ass crack hanging out at all times.   He was a true slob.  

"Hey there, Roger? Yes?" the fat man said, holding out a firm and meaty hand for a handshake.   

"Roger Gunterson - but all my friends call me Gunter.   Your name is Vic, right?"  Roger said with a big smile, shaking Vic's hand and admiring his strong grip.   

"Nice to meet you, Roger," Vic said.  "Thank you for letting us use your scale."

"No problem," Roger replied, craning his neck to peek into the back of the van, where a hefty leg was resting in the open van door.  

"This is Roland," Vic said, stepping back so Roger could see him.   "He's the one who wants to get weighed, but we've been having trouble finding a scale that will hold him."

Roger looked in to see a shockingly obese young man in his twenties with a gargantuan body comprised of multiple layers of rolls and slabs of fat spreading out so wide that they had removed the backseats to allow for a space to hold him.    He sat on the van's floor, his soft fleshy legs spread wide to accommodate the huge sack of belly fat that pooled on the floor between them.    He had giant sacks of flesh for tits that pressed hard against the tight shirt fabric that struggled to contain the lard within, unsuccessfully covering a good portion of his lower belly, which spread out further than his knees.   His face was adorably cute, smooth and puffy, with a massive ring of jiggly fat encasing his neck and wrapping around to the back of his head like he was wearing an inflatable flotation ring filled with blubber.

"Hey," Roland squeaked, burning red from embarrassment.   

"Hey there, big guy!   Need some help getting out?" Roger asked, not showing a bit of awe or bewilderment at the sight of this absurdly fat young man.   He kept his tone light and friendly without sounding condescending or alarmed.    Roland smiled in response to Roger's kindness and reached forward so they could help him out of the van.

"Thank you," Roland and Vic said in unison to Roger before beginning to all work together to slowly shift Roland's weight to the edge of the van door.

As Roland's legs slid over the edge, so did his ponderous belly, which pulled him forward as the sloppy weight slipped over the edge.  Vic and Roger pulled on his delicately chubby arms and got him up onto his feet in one sloshing move.    They held onto his sides for a minute as he found his balance and got adjusted to standing.     The weight crushed down on his knees and back, giving Roland's body a countdown before the weight would become unbearable.    He was breathing and sweating heavily, especially now that he was up on his feet and outside in the glaring light and heat of the sun.   

"Are you okay?" Vic asked Roland intimately, as though he wasn't asking if he was actually okay, but instead if he was prepared for the strenuous walk to the scale.    

"Yup.  We don't have long, though," Roland said quickly, taking his first laborious step while gritting his teeth.

"Where's the scale?" Vic asked with a serious tone, knowing that Roland only had a few minutes before he would need to get back into the van.

"This way, in the middle of the room here," Roger said, pointing the way while also giving Roland a supporting hand. 

By the time they made it to the scale, Roland was soaking wet.   His tight white t-shirt was nearly see-through as the sweat soaked under his arms and chest and every fold of fat on his body.   His back was wet, his head was trickling constant beads of sweat, and Roger found himself oddly delighted by Roland's struggle to walk fifty feet.    The young man was helplessly obese and his friend seemed to be on the same path as Roger looked at Vic's sweating forehead and heavy breathing.

"Alright, she's all set," Roger said, holding out an arm so Roland could pull himself up the small step to the scale's surface.  

Roland clumsily stepped up onto the platform and watched in disbelief as the number on the electronic screen scrolled to "786lbs".

"Oh my god...  baby..." Vic choked on his words, amazed to finally find out Roland's weight.

"No..." Roland said, still not believing the number.  "There's no way this is right..."

"It's right," Roger chimed in, amused at the shock these two porkers were going through.

"That would mean that I've gained almost 200lbs since the wedding!" Roland exclaimed, looking down at himself with furrowed brows and a wide creeping grin.

"Baby.   Oh, I'm so... come on, let's get you back to the van," Vic said, stopping himself from gushing with pride over his fat husband's gains, forgetting momentarily that the mechanic was standing there with them.

Roger wanted to know more about the two, hearing their muffled pride and excitement over Roland's extreme weight gain.   They were obviously a couple but seemed hesitant to reveal it.   Roger knew that this was because of the classic stereotype of mechanics and gear heads being less than stellar with gay people, but he didn't quite fit in with the typical gay crowd either - he liked extremes of all kinds, and this display of rampant gluttony and obesity was a new extreme that he hadn't even considered before.  It was like sparks were igniting in his brain.    Roger just listened and watched as Vic gave Roland a loving hug after he carefully stepped off of the scale.    

"How about you?" Roger asked Vic, pointing to the scale.

Vic gingerly hopped up onto the scale and shrugged at the "435lbs" that blinked up on the screen.    He stepped back down without much surprise and grabbed onto the side of Roland, who was visibly exhausted from the effort.    They began to slowly waddle back to the van and Roger joined them, wrapping his thin arm around Roland's soaking wet back rolls and feeling a pulse in his cock in response to the disgustingly fleshy body that sloshed and wobbled with every step.

"You must not get out much," Roger said, trying to find a way to continue seeing the two.   "It must be hard to do a lot at your size."

"It's okay.    I don't mind.   We actually kinda enjoy it, to be honest," Roland admitted, knowing it was pointless to try to hide their obvious kink.  

"I can see that," Roger said with a grin, patting Roland's giant wobbling ass as he crawled into the van.   

"It's really not much different than how we've always lived, to be honest," Vic added, helping Roland lift a leg up so he could push himself back to a comfortable spot.   "The only thing that's different is how he keeps breaking the furniture."

"Oh yeah?   I can do something about that if you guys want?" Roger offered, excited at the prospect of visiting their home and creating furniture that could hold them.    He was already busy thinking about metal framed beds, couches, and chairs.   

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Vic said, not wanting to burden Roger.

"I insist!   I make furniture out of scrap all the time!   I love doing it, and you guys would be a welcome challenge," Roger said, a huge smile on his face. 

 "We can't really pay much..." Vic added, disappointed, expecting to have the conversation end at the mention of the inability to afford custom-made metal framed furniture.

"It's free.   I get the metal for free and I love doing this kind of stuff - you have no idea.   I'll gladly stop by your place and fix anything I can, and also take notes so I can design some things that you might find handy," Roger offered, and when noticing Vic's hesitancy, added in, "Please.   Please let me do this for you."

"Okay, okay, you pulled my arm," Vic said with a laugh, shaking his head with a big smile.  "Thank you." 

"Don't worry about it, I love to help," Roger assured.  "I have to admit, I wouldn't mind seeing how someone his size lives."

"We're both gamers, so we basically just sit around all day, snacking," Vic admitted.  "It's made us both into fat making machines - it's hard not to get fat with the way we live."

"How about I drop by your place next week?  I'll bring some supplies and fix what I can and then design some new things to replace anything that needs an upgrade,"  Roger planned.

"Are you sure?  This is a lot of work, Roger," Vic said, trying not to impose.

"Call me Gunter - short for my last name, Gunterson...  it's what my friends call me," Roger said with a trustworthy smile.  "And yes, I'm sure."

"Alright...Gunter.   Thank you.   This means a lot to us, especially Roland - he's been really struggling with his weight lately.   I'm honestly expecting him to be too heavy to walk at some point this year - it won't be long," Vic admitted, feeling a strange bond between him and Gunter.

"Does he care that he's going to be bed bound?   It looks like he's had enough of moving," Gunter said, trying to contain a laugh directed at the gluttonous blob as he struggled to hop his massive ass back against the wall.

"I don't think either of us could stop if we tried," Vic said with a shrug, causing Gunter to cover his crotch so his growing erection couldn't be seen.

"Well, look - I'll come up with some things that I think you might like," Gunter said, imagining them both hooked up like the key piece of a fat making machine.   "Something that will make life easier for you both."

"Come on by any time, we both work from home so we're always there," Vic said, writing down their address and handing it to Gunter.  "It's nothing special, just up the road about ten minutes.  Little grey bungalow after the ponds, the house after the old farm with the blue roof."

"I'll put some things together and drop by sometime next week," Gunter promised, excited to get to work.

As soon as they soon drove off, Gunter began sketching designs for a heavy duty metal frame couch and a manually adjustable metal bed frame similar to some bariatric beds that he had looked up online.  Then there was the surprise - something that would be irresistible to the most gluttonous of slobs -  a deluxe recliner that would suit his growing needs.  He was going to hold back a little but he thought he'd go to extremes right away - this was for some guys who weren't afraid or ashamed of their growing obesity so he would gift them something that would reward their slovenly life decisions.

He showed up at three in the afternoon a week later and wasn't very shocked to find both of the fat guys in their underwear - actually, he wasn't entirely sure if Roland was naked or not, but Vic was clad in tight black briefs that somehow made him look more masculine by highlighting his dark body hair.  His belly sagged low over the briefs, and wasn't able to cover his entire hairy ass, which pushed out on top and hung out below.    His pubic fat pad also jiggled out of the sides of the briefs under his belly, and Vic made no attempt to hide his body, he just welcomed Gunter in and showed him around the tiny house.   

A massive television loomed over the living room, with two smaller screens on tables on either side of the main screen with gaming consoles and several large shelves full of video games and movies.    There were two badly damaged recliners parked in the middle of the living room, with one being crushed and leaning after Roland broke it a couple weeks ago.   The couch along the side of the room was also broken at a spot where the cushions had been flattened over years of Roland's giant ass crushing it.  Vic's seating spots were also flattened and crumpled under his weight, but his recliner was still holding up, for now.

There was a plastic cooler in the living room "for gaming tournaments drinks", and Gunter couldn't help but notice that the microwave was in the living room, right next to a chest freezer by the front door.    Vic showed him the contents of the oddly-placed freezer and discovered it was full of Fender Frozen Mega Dinners and various microwavable snacks that were all able to be reached and cooked from Vic's recliner.    

"Roland's got another microwave and freezer in his bedroom," Vic said with a grin.

"You guys don't share a bedroom?" Gunter asked, looking to the small hallway of bedroom doors off of the living room.

"Roland fills the bed, and we're always playing different games anyways so we each have our own room.   Plus, we're both like furnaces when we're in bed together," Vic said with a chuckle.

"Don't want to start a grease fire," Gunter said, nudging Vic's soft hairy love handle.  

"Come on, I'll show you the rest of the place," Vic laughed, leading the way with a view of his plump ass.   "Washroom - it's a tight squeeze and Roland's been needing me to help him with things now.   It's a two man job for him to use the washroom."

"They definitely don't make them for the supersized," Gunter said, eyeing the cramped set-up.

"Here's my room," Vic said, showing a queen sized bed with another massive television filling the wall with another pile of gaming systems, a computer, a bar fridge, and a cluttered collection of action figures and movies.   Gunter couldn't help but notice the bright pink dildo half tucked into the bed sheets.  

Vic knocked on the last door in the hall but barely gave any time before swinging open the door to the windowless room.   Roland was sitting in his bed, his belly spilling over his legs and his ass billowing out behind him as he was busy playing video games and hadn't even noticed Vic and Gunter enter.   The room was hazy and stunk of weed, sweat, and lingering farts.  He was surrounded with empty plates and bags of snacks, and it became immediately clear to Gunter how he had let himself go so badly.   He watched as Roland grabbed food and shoved it into his face any chance he got.   He'd break for five seconds, grab a fistful of greasy fried snacks or several slices of pizza and push them into his mouth like an animal before picking up the controller to continue playing his video game.  He had no television - the entire wall was his screen as his console was hooked up to a projector which covered the entire white expanse with the life-sized video game world.  It was like stepping into another dimension as the game unfolded all around him.

"He spends all his time in here - I don't think he knows if it's day or night most of the time, or even what day it is," Vic whispered.   "There have been times where he's been awake for days and he just passes out from exhaustion.   I'm bad at getting lost in my games, but he really lives in the games - not here in the real world."

Roland took another micro-break, chugging an entire high calorie meal replacement shake in seconds and then quickly unwrapped a chocolate bar so he could slide it whole into his mouth and get his chubby hands back on the controller.   Gunter couldn't help but feel powerful as he watched this fat hog slobber down wads of food without a care, completely unaware that his life was about to change.   He was naked, and outgrowing all clothes available, yet he wasn't going to change his ways.   He deserved to be treated as something special - Gunter was excited to show them what he had created for them, and what it would do to them both.

Gunter took the next few hours to do some final measurements on the couch and beds, trim the partially assembled pieces of steel frames, and then spot welded the pieces together.    By the time the sun was low on the horizon, Vic was bouncing happily on a now incredibly sturdy couch, the metal frame replacing the cheap store-bought wood frame that couldn't handle Roland's heft.  This couch could hold five times more than Roland's weight now and Gunter was sure they would need the capacity.   The beds were easier with simple but infinitely strong frames that could hold a whale, if needed.    

As a small gesture of thanks, Vic invited Gunter to stay for supper, heating up their countertop deep fryer and lighting the charcoal grill on the back deck.    As Vic was busy in the kitchen, Gunter helped Roland into the living room to try out the new and improved couch, which he gave a full-systems test immediately by dropping his nearly 800lbs heavily down onto the cushions.   The couch didn't make a sound, not a single groan or crack.    Before leaving the bedroom, Gunter had helped Roland quickly pull up a pair of massive pajama bottoms on his fat-ringed legs before he had waddled out into the living room, but the intense fluctuation of his fat crashing down on the couch caused the seams on his blubbery thighs to pop and let his soft legs spill out onto the couch surface.  Roland shrugged.

"There goes my last pair of pajamas," Roland said, completely unashamed.

"I have one more surprise for you two," Gunter informed, rubbing his hands together as he looked at the mess of out of control gluttony wheezing in front of him.   "I just made the one as a prototype, but if you like it, I'll make another one so you'll both have one."

"What is it?" Roland said between heavy breaths, his heart still racing from the twenty small steps to the couch.  

"Just wait here... and I'll go get it," Gunter said, pausing in the middle of the sentence to snicker a bit at the ridiculousness of asking an 800lb lazy slob to wait where he was.   

Gunter returned with a wheeled cart that held the heavy metal frame of an oversized recliner chair that had comfortable looking cushioning on top, but Roland could see that this was no normal recliner.    Vic stopped cooking and started laughing at the sight of the recliner, equipped with the biggest toilet seat he had ever seen, tubes and tanks, and a large metal box on the back that nearly doubled the size of the chair.    It looked like something NASA would have designed for the space station and then rejected because it was too heavy to launch.   Gunter grunted and huffed as he pulled the recliner in and parked it like it was a compact car where the old broken recliner had been.    

"Do you think it's big enough?" Roland laughed.

"That depends on if -you- think -you're- big enough," Gunter said, giving Roland a serious look.

"He's got ya there, babe," Vic said, massively interested in the strange contraption.

"This thing will make it so you don't have to lift a finger all day," Gunter said, proudly patting the top of the metal beast.   "You can use the washroom, right from the comfort of your recliner - I'll hook the plumbing up after supper.   It has a bidet so it washes you afterwards without any effort."  

Gunter then opened the raised metal cabinet on the back of the chair and showed it had a 30 gallon plastic tank inside of it, complete with feeding tubes leading from the bottom of the bin that was at chest-level for anyone sitting in the chair.   The feeding tubes were fed through a hole at the top of the metal cabinet, at perfect height to grab with their mouth and casually suck while playing video games.    

"You can fill this with any kind of shakes or cream or whatever," Gunter said, pointing at the deep plastic tank.   "It's refrigerated so you can fill it up and it'll last for days... if you have the will power to make it last that long." 

He then showed them a little bonus in case they wanted to have a little more fun with the chair.    He slipped the fabric covering the armrests down to reveal big leather straps with metal buckles on them on each armrest.    

"In case you guys want to get a little playful, there's leather straps to keep your arms locked down for some immobility play - and the recliner can be locked in the legs-up position with a small switch here on the back of the chair," Gunter pointed out.   "So, if Vic wants to lock you in the chair for some fun, he has that option... or if Vic wants to see what a few days of immobility feels like, he can try out the chair for a bit."

"You're the devil," Vic laughed.   "What are you trying to do to us here?"  

"Nothing that you aren't already doing," Gunter said with a grin.   "I'm just making it easier."

"Too easy... way too easy," Vic added.

"I can make it easier..."  Gunter said with seriousness. 

"I want to get in it now," Roland said, eyes locked on the chair.   

"After supper, big guy.   I still have to hook up some plumbing and electricity, but I promise that you'll be stuck in there in no time," Gunter said, giving Roland's fat cheeks and double chin a light pinch.   "You might not be able to get back out of it once you get in, so you better be prepared."

All Roland could do was moan at what was basically his sexual fantasy, being led into immobility with ease, to never be able to escape from it.    His weight would skyrocket in that chair and he could feel a raging hunger stirring in his belly and his groin.    He couldn't wait to sit back, put his feet up, suck down gainer shakes all day and not even have to get up to use the washroom.   It was paradise, waiting for him in the form of a monstrous metal chair.  

After one of the most fattening meals he had ever seen, with stacks of triple cheeseburgers, fries, fried pickles, onion rings, mayo and aioli, battered deep fried hotdogs, and two thawed store-bought cheesecakes, Gunter pardoned himself after eating most of a single burger to begin work on the plumbing while the two fat guys gorged themselves until all the platters and plates were clean.   They really were pigs, and Gunter was excited to see how fat they'd become with his contraptions making their gains easier than it ever should be.  

It took three hours of wiring the electricity for the chair's fridge, laying pipes and patching into the main sewage line for the chair's toilet before Gunter was finished.   He came up from the basement to find both Vic and Roland on the couch in the living room, playing an old fighting game that Gunter used to play at the arcade when he was younger.    They were both very obese, but Roland made Vic look normal in comparison.   Roland's giant smooth body hung and sagged in redundant rolls of fat, making him look like a literal pile of lard.    Vic's hairy soft body cradled into him, looked like an oversized teddy bear.   Together, they looked adorable and innocent - like two childhood friends who decided to never grow apart and never grow up.   They were, however, definitely growing out.   

Upon giving the recliner a practice flush, Gunter announced that the chair was ready for Roland.    They helped him up onto his feet for several shaky steps to the chair and Vic tugged off Roland's ripped and outgrown pajama bottoms to reveal a cellulite-riddled ass that looked delicious to Gunter.   As he struggled to waddle, it was obvious that Roland's mobility was becoming terrible, and Gunter wondered if these would be Roland's last steps.    Vic seemed to share the same thoughts as they slowly walked Roland to the chair and gently lowered him into it.    He moaned and took a huge breath as he settled his weight onto the seat.

"This is seriously the most comfortable chair I've ever sat in," Roland sighed.   "Where did you get this toilet seat?  It feels so good!   So wide!"

"It's the biggest toilet seat I could find online - made for more... corpulent people," Gunter said, pleased with Roland's reaction.

"The tubes!  Oh my god..." Roland said with excitement as he leaned his head slightly and grabbed up the feeding tube with ease and sucked air from it.   "Holy shit.   This is amazing.    What did you say, 30 gallons??" 

"Yup - you think that's enough?" Gunter laughed.  

"This is - incredible... I don't know what to say," Roland said, stunned.  "Thank you so much.   We owe you  so much."

"Yes, thank you.   This is going to make life so much easier for both of us," Vic added, giving Gunter a bear hug so he could whisper in his ear, "He's never getting out of that."

"We have to look up some recipes for gainer shakes," Roland said, his belly growling loudly despite the fact that he just consumed nearly 10,000 calories during supper.    

"I'll have to see what kind of wholesale deal we can get on cream from the dairy," Vic chuckled, admiring the size of the tank that would hold all the gainer shakes and cream that they could possibly want.   "Make you up some peanut butter milkshakes."

"My favourite," Roland growled, his hands grasping the sides of his belly as another loud gurgle sounded from deep in his lard.   "Ohhhh.... ohhhhhh!"

Both Vic and Gunter looked at Roland with confusion as he began to moan and grunt.    Vic didn't know what Roland was doing but Gunter knew what was happening.    Sitting with his ass out on a toilet seat, Roland had subconsciously begun to take a dump and before he could stop himself, the train of food that had been supper began to push and slide through Roland's fat asshole.    A boom of thunderous gas clapped out and everyone stopped in silence as the sound of a huge coiled log dropped into the toilet.    Roland flushed immediately, embarrassed that he had just let himself take a shit in front of Gunter.    This feeling was instantly erased and replaced with pleasant surprise as a steady jet of warm water began gently washing his open ass cheeks, rinsing the skin clean after an eruptive mess.   

"Wait for it..." Gunter said, holding back laughter as the bidet stopped spraying water on Roland's asshole and the chair let out a hiss from somewhere underneath the frame.   A refreshing smell filled the room as an aerosol air freshener sprayed out as the final step to the chair's flushing process.      "I'm pretty proud of that."

"You've thought of everything," Vic laughed, amazed by Gunter's level of detail, and then gave him another hug.

Vic offered Gunter to stay overnight, but he told them he needed to get home and get ready for another busy day of car repairs.   Vic badly wanted him to stay, feeling incredibly turned on by his fattening engineering, but Gunter wasn't interested yet.   He didn't want to fuck them or play with them until they were completely transformed by his creation - his attraction wasn't the men but the lard that they were so addicted to growing.    He was planning on making a second machine, and already had ideas to upgrade the one he had just installed.   When both of them were fatter than they wanted to get, becoming out of control and freakishly obese, that's when Gunter wanted to climb on top of them and fuck them senseless.    We wanted to push them over the edge and fuck them right before they hit the ground.

SIX MONTHS LATER

Gunter pulled up to the snow-covered tiny grey house like he had every Friday night for the last six months.    He had a few additions to add to the feeding machines and a trailer full of food and supplies to last another week.   The house looked like it was abandoned now, with the overgrown lawns of dead wildflowers and tall grasses sticking up through the ankle deep snow, leaving only a single worn pathway trampled down to the front door.   Gunter was the only one going in and out, just the way that he wanted it to be.    This was his experiment and he was protective of the test subjects that he had trapped inside.

Wheeling several drums of lard with a winking pig logo painted on the side over to the front door, he began piling this week's food and supplies up on the deck, excited by the anticipation of what was waiting for him inside the house.   It took almost an hour to unload everything to the deck, and then he began dragging it all inside as quickly as he could he wouldn't let the cold in.    

Inside the house, the air was hot and sticky with weed smoke and layers on food and manly musk, creating a billowing cloud of vapor that drifted out the front door into the frosty breeze every time he pushed in another barrel of lard or stack of boxes.  When he finally got the whole load of supplies inside, he turned to look at how his subjects were doing.    He walked around the original chair, which Roland had traded with Vic once Gunter had created an improved second chair months ago.   

Vic filled the chair with his bloated body.   He had spent the last week lost in the worlds of video games and was happy to see Gunter after the solitude in the feeding machine.  Gunter had installed a refrigerated closet in the living room between the two recliners, able to hold enough gainer shakes, fattening pureed slop, and cream to last both gluttons for the week.    He had turned their home into an industrial labyrinth of tubes and machinery to accommodate the two blobs of growing blubber.  This closet prevented a good view between Vic and Roland so they could only see the lower half of each other unless they leaned forward, but neither had much energy for leaning anymore.

Vic had quickly grown almost to Roland's previous size over the past few months, spending every hour of the day sucking down gainer shakes and slop, unable to do anything but swallow and digest as his body crept up over 700lbs.   Gunter looked at him with judgement, his hairy body covered in rolls and soft pendulous flesh that weighed down his lap and hung past his knees.   He stunk of sweat and musk, needing his weekly sponge bath to mop up his greasy, salty skin.  

"Do you think maybe I can take the straps off now?" Gunter asked with a grin, lowering his hands to touch the leather straps that had been secured on Vic's arms for six months now.  "Nah...  not yet..." he teased as he pulled his hands away.

Vic groaned and then let out a deep grunt before filling the room with the sound of pounds of waste rocketing into the toilet chair.    Gunter stepped back with raised eyebrows as Vic emptied his bowels against his will - the six months in the chair had made him unable to control himself, effectively erasing his bladder and bowel control so he was like a wild animal.    As the bidet washed his giant hairy ass clean, Gunter approached and slipped some nipple pumps onto Vic's ever-expanding nipples, stretching them wider for no reason other than Gunter wanting to see how big he could make them.   Vic moaned in pleasure, rocking his body in the chair as much as the straps allowed him to.

"The chair says you gained 34lbs this week...  disappointing..." Gunter said, waving a pink vibrating dildo in front of Vic's face before lowering it to Vic's underbelly roll to tease him with occasional pushes of the vibrating wand into Vic's hairy fat pad before pulling it away and shaking his finger.  "Not until you start gaining 40lbs a week like Roland."

Vic moaned and whined, unable to speak with the feeding tubes strapped to his face, holding them in his mouth permanently.   One of Gunter's improvements for this week was to install a feeding tube down into Vic's stomach so his gains wouldn't have to depend on his sucking at all - it would all be under Gunter's control.    Gunter wanted to see just how fast someone could gain if they had no control over the amount they were consuming, or what they were consuming.  He could drain pure hog lard into Vic and he'd just have to sit there and take it.

"How is Roland making out this week?" Gunter asked to himself, having soaked in the sight of Vic long enough.   He loved taking care of Vic before even setting his eyes on Roland because it was such a shocking thrill to see the difference.  Vic looked massive, but when compared to Roland, he looked pathetically tiny.   Gunter stepped back from Vic and walked around the side of the refrigeration unit that filled the space between them.     

Roland was ready to bust.    He was riddled with stretch marks and had become inhumanly fat.    His belly had grown out over his permanently reclined legs, trapped in the feeding machine for six months of steady fattening.   He had gained an alarming 260lbs since lowering his ass into the recliner, now pushing over 1000lbs and completely helpless against Gunter's machine.   He looked at Gunter with "come fuck me" eyes - a side effect of Gunter's extra special designs on this chair.

Gunter had created the second chair to be extra motivating so any time that the feeding tube was sucked on with force, a vibrator attachment was activated and sent a pulsating rubber shaft pressing into Roland's flabby taint - rubbing up into the overhanging space behind Roland's testicles, right at the start of his colossal ass crack.   Roland spent all day sucking as hard as he could on the feeding tubes, keeping himself so full that he could barely stay conscious just to feel the stimulation that only rarely was able to bring him to orgasm.    Most of the time, his stomach couldn't outlast his sluggish sex drive, leaving him stretched to new capacities with a runaway appetite, leaving him to keep trying over and over again.    

Gunter stripped naked and stood in front of Roland, soaking in the view.   Gunter was lean and trim, his bones and muscles showing under his skin with his well-endowed cock swinging against his thigh.    Roland moaned and groaned, sucking furiously on the tube so the vibrator would start again.    He gulped and swallowed, piling more of the greasy slop into his stomach in a desperate attempt to make himself cum while he had Gunter naked in front of him.    They were so drastically different - Gunter, a man who barely weighed 160lbs and Roland, a hog who weighed over 1000lbs of pure lard, but he still wasn't fat enough for Gunter.  Roland tried desperately to gain enough for Gunter to get turned on, but he could see that this week would be no different.    He was still too small, Gunter's flaccid cock told him as much.  

"Forty-three pounds this week!   You've almost emptied your lard drum," Gunter said, pleased, as he checked the scale and the levels of his special mixture.     

Gunter had been blending a barrel of hog lard with a barrel of palm oil and a barrel of cooking oil each week for the last month and the results had been extreme on Roland.   Vic barely touched his lard slop tube, opting for the gainer shakes and cream, but Roland was far more disgusting.    Roland had spent the last month emptying a barrel or two each week, barely touching the other mixtures so his diet had become almost 100% lard.    He couldn't seem to get enough, and the results on his body were alarming.  

Roland's size had exploded, with new fat deposits forming quickly, anywhere that they could.    His breasts were giant slabs that almost outgrew his arms, making it so he could barely grasp at anything other than his chest.    His nipples were stretched to extremes, Gunter made sure of this, excited to see just how huge he could make them.    His belly spilled out over his legs and pinned them down so only his feet stuck out from under the mass of lard.   Gunter slid a finger over the bottom of Roland's bloated foot, feeling the swollen arch of his foot push out in a soft bulge of fat.    He would never be able to stand on them now that they were brimming with lard.     

Gunter admired Roland's face for a minute - looking past the tubes and straps to see his squinting eyes being pressed shut from the lard that was chubbing up his features.   His cheeks were pink and rounded, and his double chin was now a heavy slab of fat that rested on his chest.    The new fat flooding his system had found a new spot on Roland's forehead, swelling up so it weighed down on his eyes even more, making him look like he was wearing grotesque special effects makeup.    If he were to be brought out into the public, he would be tormented and teased, either ignored or treated like a revolting farm animal, not dissimilar to how Gunter had come to look at him as a fat hog.    He wasn't a person anymore - he was more pig than man, and more lard than pig. 

Gunter cleaned and refilled the tanks and barrels, mixed up new fatty slop for them, and washed and cared for them both with special soaps, ointments and powders.    They smelled marginally better, but Gunter couldn't get rid of the barn smell - like he was inside the farmhouse on a hog farm.   He loved the smell, though.   It wasn't human smelling, and this alone was enough to be a turn on for Gunter, who's semi-erect cock gave both Vic and Roland a show while they sat hopelessly sucking on the feeding tubes.

"You guys are making me hungry," Gunter said, rubbing his flat stomach.   "I'm heading out to get a bacon sandwich.   See you next week."

It was a year later when Gunter finally brought Roland to a size where he felt intensely sexual about him.    He had shown up on a brisk fall day, nearly eighteen months since he had first met Vic and Roland, hauling a massive load of food and supplies for another week when he discovered something had gone wrong.   Roland's feeding tube pump had accidentally been set to Auto-Maintain, which matched the pace of Roland's sucking and automatically maintained the flow, causing his stomach to be injected with the lard slop at high pressure all week after he tried to suck hard enough to make himself cum just minutes after Gunter had left for the week.    He looked painfully stuffed, with a week-old puddle of lard goop dribbling from his mouth and down his chins to his massive expanse of chest and belly flesh.   His upper stomach was swollen out like a beach ball, disturbingly tight and covered in angry wide stretch marks that pulled his skin dangerously thin.   

"Holy fuck, piggy," Gunter exclaimed, about to shut down the pump, but then stopping himself.

Roland's eyes bugged out as much as they could from all the puffy fat of his cheeks and forehead.    He needed the pressure to stop.   It had been an entire week without sleep in a desperate attempt to keep himself from drowning in the lard soup that kept pumping into him.    Any rest caused the lard to pressure its way up his throat and bubble out of his nose and mouth.   His only option was to swallow.

Over the course of the week, Roland had gained 89lbs of lard as it forced its way through his digestive system.   He was practically a fat making machine pushed to its limits, and then some.   Gunter couldn't help himself as his erection throbbed to life, turning his flaccid sock of a penis into a monster ten inch-long rod.    He dipped his cock into the spilled lard and dragged the shaft across the soft expanse of lower belly fat that hung lower and wider than ever.    Roland moaned out in pain as the slightest touch made him feel like he would burst.  

"More..." Gunter whispered.   "Just a little bit more and you'll be fat enough for me, fat enough for my cock..."

Roland moaned louder as Gunter pushed his cock under the belly flesh that was laying on top of his left foot.    He bucked his hips into the mass of fat, causing lard to gurgle out of Roland's mouth around the feeding tubes.    His cries of pain were comically masked by the forceful spurt of lard that came from his nose and lips.    Gunter pushed in harder as Roland forced himself to swallow and keep the pressure contained to his belly and guts.    

"A little more..." Gunter growled through his teeth as he leaned over Roland's belly to reach the feeding tube controls.     

With Roland's muffled screams letting more lard sputter out of his mouth, Gunter turned the control knob on the feeding tube from the orange bar to the red bar.   Roland's eyes watered up as they opened wide and wild, the feeding tube pressure suddenly forcing into him even harder.    Gunter heard a high pitched gurgle come from Roland's ballooning stomach and then a torrent of crap and gas blasted into the toilet chair, but it was no relief from the powerful flood of lard that immediately took its place.    He felt like he was going to burst and he knew he didn't have much time left before the pressure became too much.

"Bigger...  a little more...  I'm almost ready," Gunter purred, sliding his cock deep into his lard-clogged belly.    

Vic could hear this all happening from the other side of the room, his view mostly blocked by the refrigeration unit, but he was able to see the bottom of Roland's belly, where Gunter was busy ramming his hips into the fat that was covering Roland's feet.   He had spent the week terrified that Roland was going to explode open from the enormous strain of lard filling him.   He had watched the puddle of spilled lard grow day by day, and could make out the bottom half of the swollen ball of his stomach as it inflated larger and larger.   He had even watched an angry, wide stretch mark form over the course of an hour as his belly expanded further than his body could keep up.    

As Vic watched Gunter's naked little ass pump and push into Roland's flesh, he could hear Roland's cries escalating.   Vic struggled against the straps that still locked him in place, even though he had become immobile months earlier.   Gunter had never unbuckled the straps, finding extra joy in seeing Vic's masculine hairy body turn into a sloppy mound of dough against his will.    There was something especially attractive in watching Vic become an unhealthy mess of lard - it was more of a challenge than Roland's already-runaway gluttony.   Gunter had corrupted Vic with his own fetish, turning Vic's love of fat into something that was being forced on him to extremes.   Vic's inability to escape his grasp is what fueled Gunter's fantasies about the future, and it was why that Gunter would be installing a similar forced-pump onto Vic's chair once he was done with Roland.

Vic couldn't look away from Gunter's aggressive humping, instinctively sucking down more slop as he watched and listened.   The continuous slapping of bony hips on flab filled the room, but Vic could hear a change in tone in the sloshing as Roland's already-overfilled body tried to handle the endless rush of lard and the repeating claps of Gunter's body hitting him.   He could hear Roland's moans becoming more and more desperate while Gunter fucked harder in response to his panic.

"Here it comes!" Gunter yelled, bucking his hips and tightening his ass muscles as he rammed as hard as he could.

Vic watched as Gunter tensed up and threw himself down on top of Roland's belly as he erupted cum into Roland's underbelly.    Gunter growled deeply, gasping and twitching on top of the sea of blubber.   Vic could hear splashing and watched as the pool of lard slop on the floor spread wider and wider with speed.   Gunter pushed his hips in again and the splattering sound of hundreds of pounds of slop spilled out onto the floor.  Vic watched in horror as the massively round bulge of Roland's overstuffed stomach deflated.   Gunter grabbed at Roland's expanse of belly as it happened, hugging and squeezing the blob of lard as he pumped out the last of his load.

Gunter got up, his naked body covered in a thick white goop that slid down his body in globs, pouring slowly around his erection that was also dripping white goo.   Gunter looked more excited than ever and raging with power as he stood there looking at Roland's enormous body.   Vic couldn't see what he was looking at, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.   Roland had burst.  He must have.   Gunter had pushed him too far.  He hadn't stood a chance.

"Well, it looks like we found Piggy's limit," Gunter laughed, rubbing the lard over his naked body and slicking his cock with a thick smear of it.    

Gunter started jerking off, looking at Roland's final moments alive as he gurgled and sputtered at the feeding tube that continued to power a lardy slop into his overburdened body.    He was just a pile of lard now, a dreadfully fantastic pile of lard that would put any hog to shame.   It was a beautiful disaster.

As Gunter jerked off, he turned to look at Vic, who froze in fear at the sight of him.   His eyes were focused, a fire raging behind them, as he soaked in the sight of his next victim.    Vic struggled hopelessly against his restraints and found himself sucking down gainer shake out of fear of what would happen if he didn't.   Gunter was a mad man and Vic had invited him in and practically strapped himself into his contraptions all because he was offering a chance to live out his dreams.    The only thing is, it wasn't Vic's dream that he was now living, it was Gunter's.   Gunter would never be satisfied with his weight, not until it was in the process of killing him.    He was swelling with fat to extremes not for his desire to be immobile, but for Gunter's freakish desire to cum at the moment that his gargantuan blob reached its absolute maximum.    

"Let's get started on you now so I can see just how much bigger than Roland you can get before you bust apart with lard"   Gunter grumbled, shooting another load of cum out, spraying lard and cum across Vic's furry belly.   "So juicy... so plump... so fucking delicious...  now let's get you hooked up with the same system that Roland had..."

Vic gulped in terror as he pictured himself hooked up to the lard pumping machine that had sealed Roland's fate, but deep down inside, he felt perverted hunger riot through his body.    He wanted to be juicy and fat, a delicious porker soaking in lard, someone who could be big enough for Gunter.   He knew what his fate would be, and it suddenly thrilled him to realize that Gunter was hellbent on making him bigger than Roland, bigger and better.   Softer and heavier.   Dripping with juices and soaking in flavour.    He truly felt like a pig, and he knew there was only one thing for a pig to do - grow fat and produce as much lard for his farmer as possible, and so he sucked on his feeding tube and let Gunter take over.    

He snorted and oinked through the tubes strapped to his face, and Gunter shot another load of cum across his belly before removing Roland's wasted lard pile and focusing all his efforts and attention on his next pig.  This one would grow bigger, he would make sure of it.   Gunter's own mistakes had limited Roland's growth, but he wouldn't make those same mistakes again.  Vic would grow to record-breaking extremes and Gunter would finally see just how heavy a person could get, and then he would find someone else to grow even bigger after that... and then another to break that record... and on and on until he was satisfied with humanity's display of gluttony and obesity.    They would never be enough - they could always be bigger, and he would keep perfecting his machine until he knew that he could no longer beat his own records and he found the true limit to human obesity. 

"Thanks, Vic.   Without you, I wouldn't have even known I was into this.    See what happens when you spread your kink around?    You get perfectionists like me stepping in to show you how it's really done.   Now, just sit back and enjoy your slow ride to the rendering plant, piggy," Gunter chuckled as he rubbed his flat muscular stomach with the spilled lard.

Vic instinctive let out another oinking sound, but was disgusted in himself.    He felt the pressure building in his belly.  He could smell the lard slop on his breath.   He felt his thick stubby cock throb as the lard swelled in his belly and pressed down on his lap.   He was a pig now.   There was no going back.    Vic's eyes rolled back into his head as he relaxed, letting the lard course through his system and transform into Gunter's next experiment.    He looked at Gunter in the eyes and felt his power push him down further and further until there was nothing left to his soul but a ravenous sloppy hog so swollen with lard that he couldn't survive another second, but his mouth watered at the sight of Gunter's huge cock, knowing that his final moments would be spent finally feeling its throbbing length in his body, pushing it into his gargantuan belly but only once there was absolutely no room left for it.    

Despite his fears, Vic sucked harder and let out the largest snorting oink that he could manage, a smile forming around the feeding tubes as he gorged himself until he was so full that it made him dribble out a load of thick cum into the toilet.    Gunter rewarded his lead-footed show of excessive gluttony by funnel-feeding him pitchers of melted lard all week long until he was begging to stop.    That's when Gunter installed the feeding tube pump and started Vic's lard-clogged race to temporarily become the heaviest hog on the planet.