Career Changes

[three word request: cumflation immobile permanent]

Near the end of Ian’s second hour-long session of cardio that day, his phone rang. He declined the call immediately when he saw that it was Mike, his former agent. Ian hadn’t spoken to him since the day he got fired from the photoshoot for Shreddz, the new thermogenic energy drink. Ian shuddered at the memory of that day, walking into the studio with a body that felt wholly unfamiliar. He’d been terrified to disrobe in front of the photographer, for the first time in his life ashamed of his body and desperate to hide it underneath baggy clothes.

Ian turned sideways in front of the mirrored gym wall, glancing around cautiously before lifting up his shirt to examine the round belly he’d been sporting since that fateful night with Gregor. What had been ripped abs since his teens was now a bloated mound, firm like a dodgeball but utterly resistant to Ian’s drastic dieting and frantic cardio. None of the extra pudge on his physique–the thickness in his ass, the bit of chub in his cheeks–would diminish no matter what he did.

A beefy hand grabbed Ian’s shoulder and he flinched, gasping loudly. The young blonde man was immediately embarrassed when the man behind him–Trent, one of the Global Gym trainers Ian had been seeing a lot of since starting his double sessions–chuckled at his reaction.

“Man, you’re real skittish, hunh?” Trent said with a smile and a wink. Trent was tall and built–nowhere near as tall and built as Gregor, but enough that his looming size had triggered Ian’s alarms. Trent was in his forties, balding on top but with hockey hair bordering on a mullet brushing against his thick traps. “I just wanted to say, I’ve been seeing you putting in the work around here. Looks like you finally got tired of being a skinny guy and embraced bulking season, eh?”

Ian blushed and looked down, adjusting his shirt to hide his gut. “Yeah, I’m… uh… trying to make some changes…” he stammered.

Trent smiled and shrugged his big shoulders. “Hey, man, all I wanted to say is, if you’re tired of being a prettyboy model, you should embrace the big boy lifestyle for awhile. I’ve got room for a new client and I think that frame of yours would look really nice with some muscle on it. Let me know.”

Trent handed over a business card and Ian stared at it. The photo of Trent on the card was of a ripped contest-shape physique. Trent seemed to be a good forty pounds heavier than that now. Ian marvelled at the fact that the man still appeared ripped. In Ian’s modeling career, extra weight had been the enemy. He’d never pictured gaining weight being a good thing. He folded the card and slid it into his pocket, unsure what he would do with it next.

Outside the gym his phone rang again; his agent, calling back. Ian got gutsy and answered it.

“Hey, man, we’ve got your final check from that last job you did here,” Mike said flatly. “I can either mail it to you or you can pick it up here.”

Ian sighed. Somehow he’d hoped it would have been an offer for a new job; maybe as a “before” picture, or for a “body positivity” campaign.

“Mail it to me,” Ian said, eager to hang up.

“You end up losing those pounds yet? Your career’s not gonna hang around waiting for you forever you know.”

Ian hung the phone up quickly and slid it into his pocket, his fingers brushing Trent’s card.

*

“FUCK YEAH!” Trent growled as Ian squatted three extra reps, despite his quads screaming at him, his lungs feeling like they were going to collapse, his vision speckled with stars.

After the last teeth-grinding rep, Ian wobbled on his feet, certain he was going to collapse. Luckily Trent helped Ian rack the heavily loaded bar with a firm shove, followed by a clap on the back.

“Jesus, all those years I saw you doing abs and biceps here, I never knew what a fucking animal you could be!” Trent said. He winked at Ian, and the blonde’s stomach fluttered. Maybe it was just the exhausting leg day.

Outside the gym, Ian sipped his protein shake as the bus pulled up. He froze when he saw the full-length advertisement on the side of the bus. Ian’s eyes went wide at the larger-than-life image of himself staring back at him, flexing his rippling abs and staring solemnly to the left to show off a flawless jawline.

The bus doors squeaked open but Ian was still transfixed by the vision of himself, almost literally confronting his past. He looked down at his thick body, nowhere near what it used to be back when he could flaunt his beauty to pay his bills.

Trent approached as the bus pulled away. “Did you just get intimidated by a bus advertisement?”

Ian shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. “That was… that was me.”

Trent’s eyes went wide. “You joking? That skinny little fuck was YOU?!”

Ian smiled. Trent always put him at ease.

“That’s not what you want to look like, is it?” Trent said, an eyebrow raised. The big man squeezed both of Ian’s beefy arms with his strong hands. “C’mon, bud, look at these arms. Look at your back! You’re a damned powerhouse now! You take dumps bigger than that little shit on that bus. You should be proud of yourself!”

Ian cocked his head to the side, wanting badly to believe what Trent was saying. It was true, Trent had helped him fill his body out with bulky muscles. He was built like a powerlifter now, and almost seemed to have developed a proud waddle from the width of his legs rubbing together. “But my gut… won’t go away…”

Trent winked at him. “Fuck it. It looks good on you.”

Ian turned away shyly at the same time Trent moved his arm. The bodybuilder’s big hand brushed against Ian’s bulging belly, gently caressing it in a way that made Ian’s whole body tingle. He felt like his entire body had turned red.

“Look, you trained your ass off today,” Trent began, “and I was planning on rewarding you with a cheat meal today. How about you spend that cheat meal with me? All you can eat sushi? Then crash at my place and watch a dumb movie?”

Ian’s heart ached. He wanted so bad to say yes, but… “...no, sorry, Trent. I’ve got some stuff to do tonight.”

Trent’s smile never faded but his energy seemed to diminish. “Your call bud. Make sure you get that cheat meal in, though. And maybe quit covering up so much. You’ve built a ton of muscles since you started with me. Show them off! You’ll feel better.”

As Trent walked away, Ian felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Who’s your friend?”

It was a text from Gregor. Ian whirled around, searching for the man, but he was nowhere to be found.

*

Trent’s invitation for dinner wasn’t the first Ian had turned down. The first few months after his encounter with Gregor, when his model-fit body had vanished in an instant, he had been too shy to date, but it was only a matter of time before he put his pictures back on the apps. He cropped his shredded physique out of the photos, of course, lacking the confidence to take a new photo but also feeling guilty about showing pictures of a body that wasn’t his anymore. Somehow, showing less of himself felt like less of a lie.

But moments before every potential hookup, Ian chickened out. Every time, he’d imagine that night with Gregor, when the swarthy 6’7” musclebound beauty had invited him to his hotel room, stripped down to reveal his heavily tatted up body, and convinced the usually “total top” Ian to worship his coke-can thick cock.

Ian remembered seeing lightning when he first took that big dick, embracing the shock of it entering his virgin hole a moment later. He groaned at every thrust but found himself in love with it. He would tell himself later that it was something magical about Gregor’s musk, something in his sweat enchanting Ian to act like a desperate, needy bottom, but as time when on he wondered if it was something about being dominated by a big, powerful man that he’d loved.

All of his ecstasy had changed in the moment when Gregor came with a roar, emptying what felt like gallons of cum deep within Ian. The model remembered feeling his whole body throbbing as he looked down and watched his gut swell. With each pump into Ian’s ass, his 6% bodyfat skyrocketed and he watched, helplessly plugged, as his abs bowed out into a turtleshell, then into a swollen belly like he was eight months pregnant. His body was overwhelmed with the most powerful orgasm of his life while Gregor turned him to face the mirror, watching as his chiseled face plumped, as his rippling arms and legs went smooth.

Later, when Ian tried to leave, he struggled to put on his clothes. “This can’t be real,” he remembered sobbing as he tried to yank his polo shirt down over his bloated belly.

“That’s my curse, baby,” Gregor said, licking his lips as Ian undid the door’s deadbolt and struggled with the chain lock. “Happens to every man I fuck… and every man every man I fuck fucks… So… careful where you cum, got it?”

It hadn’t seemed real. Ian had hurried home, telling himself that he’d been drugged, or perhaps it was an allergic reaction. The next morning he was horrified to see that he was still bloated from the night before. A day later he got fired from his Shreddz campaign right in the studio. A day after that his agent fired him via text.

The idea that Gregor was still around, still watching him, horrified Ian. He spent the rest of the day anxious to be alone, every moment expecting Gregor’s massive body to burst through his front door and threaten him with even more fattening.

*

He was halfway to Trent’s house when he decided he should call first. Trent was a gregarious, attractive man; it was narcissistic to believe that turning the big man down meant Trent would be home alone inside. Ian assured himself that Trent probably had a dozen men waiting to date him at all times. Ian paused his hasty stride and  took a look at himself in a parked car’s window. Long gone were the days of his flawless face and impeccable body, but his ego still seemed to remain.

“He probably wasn’t trying to bang you anyway, dude,” Ian reassured himself as his stocky, powerful reflection gazed back at him. He considered turning back around but Trent’s condo was only a block away. Outside, he saw Trent’s living room lights on. He wasn’t answering his phone but Ian decided to just knock on his door.

“Damn, tnat text really rattled me,” Ian said, deciding to delete Gregor’s text–and his number–as he waited for Trent to answer. A second knock and the door, not entirely latched, swung open. Ian paused and stepped in. “Hello?” he called.

Ian was through Trent’s kitchen, stepping into his living room, when he heard the loud grunts from the bedroom. “Fuck!” he thought,backing away, ashamed. He was ready to bolt, but then he recognized one of the voices.

“You think you’re big, big man? I’ll show you what big is.”

Ian’s blood went cold. Every day since that encounter with Gregor, he’d heard the monstrous man’s voice in his head. He was sure of it; Gregor was there, with Trent. He ran for the sound of two men grunting and threw open the door.

He stepped in just as Gregor, balls deep in Trent with the bodybuilder’s massive quads slung over his shoulders, fired his load. At the peak moment Gregor turned to Ian and smiled, just as his big balls started pumping.

Trent seemed delirious with ecstasy, unaware as his lean muscular gut bowed out suddenly. All fo the cuts on the bodybuilder’s physique filled in suddenly, every striation suddenly buried under a layer of softness. Trent went from near-contest to offseason in a moment. His body was “lean” around 245 pounds, so it had to be a good sixty pounds filling him out to a more pillowy build. Gregor wasn’t done unloading, however, and the legs on the bed crumbled beneath their combined weights as Trent’s body continued to fill out. When Gregor finally pulled out of Trent with a resounding POP, Ian’s coach looked to be nearly incapacitated by his swollen body.

“You enjoy the show?” Gregor said with a sneer, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Trent’s pudgy face before grabbing his clothes and leaving. Ian leapt out of the way as Gregor approached the door, terrified of the big man. He couldn’t move until the front door closed.

“Fuck… fuck… oh shit…” Trent groaned as his hands probed the scope of his massive new belly, so big the bodybuilder wouldn’t be able to see the ground two feet in front of him every again. “Ian? That you, bud?”

Ian approached his trainer cautiously. “I’m here,” he said, walking around to Trent, shocked at just how much the bodybuilder’s body had inflated. His face was totally round, his arms and legs so beefy and bloated they looked nearly inflexible. It was a massive struggle just grabbing Trent’s arms and helping the big man from the bed.

Trent looked like an enormous sumo wrestler now. He sat there in shock, unable to keep his hands off his newfound size.

“How did he find you?” Ian said, restraining a whimper.

“Met me online,” Trent said, out of breath. “And hell, I was horny. A guy I like had just shot me down, y’know?” After some huffing and puffing, he added, “You know that guy? He seemed to know you.”

Ian couldn’t hold back anymore. He broke down and unloaded the details of his encounter with Gregor–including his own inflation–as he sobbed into the bigger man’s warm, soft shoulder. It felt incredible to finally speak his truth out loud–to someone who would absolutely believe him–but the relief was overshadowed by the fact that Trent had just met the same horrible fate.

“Well, fuck,” Trent grunted. “Help me up, buddy. Let’s take a look at all of this.” He gave his gut a resounding slap, loud as a thunderclap.

When the two had finally succeeded in getting Trent on his feet, Ian noticed a puddle of sweat beneath them. Trent waddled around the bed, looking in the mirror. “Fuck,” he said. “Feel like I need some yoga.” The massive man tried and failed to reach behind him, then moaned as he reached to touch his toes and stopped halfway. “So this is what happened to you, hunh?” he said, giving his bulky gut a thump, then lifting its heft and letting it flop back down.

“Yeah,” Ian said. Why wasn’t Trent freaking out? he wondered.

“Seems like I still have my muscles,” Trent said. “So I just start powerlifting instead. With all this mass, I could be breaking world records in no time. I bet the diet’ll be better.”

Trent turned and pulled Ian toward him, their warm bellies squashing together as they kissed. For just a moment, all of Ian’s emotional burden seemed to vanish. He felt like Trent’s four-hundred pound body was everywhere, like his own was so insignificant in comparison. Trent felt so warm and comforting, his kiss so deep and passionate… A loud fart broke them from their frantic embrace. Ian followed it up with one of his own, causing both of them to laugh.

“I’m hungry as hell,” Trent said, slapping his belly. “Fuck, you want to pig out? Cuz I feel like I could eat several horses.”

He reached out and gently caressed Ian’s dick, which went hard instantly. The former model melted at the contact, and as Trent waddled from the room, the only thing that hung in his mind was Gregor’s warning–that what he had done had passed on to him. Theoretically the same thing had happened to Trent. He couldn’t help but wonder what that would mean for the future of the two men... What would another load do to Ian? And would one more dose of their cursed cum render Trent totally immobile?

“Gonna have to get my business cards changed,” Trent said as he placed an order for pizzas. “What do you think about ‘Powerbelly Building by Trent’ as a new business name?”

Ian chuckled, choosing to focus on the safety of that moment over the uncertainty of their future.