The Fat Factory: Chapter 3

An alarm startled the boys awake.

“Fuucck, I barely slept I was so full,” Chris Anthony moaned.

“Tell me about it. I took the fattest shit an hour ago. Have you seen the bathrooms? They’re palatial, like literally gold plated,” Frederic responded.

The boys were cuddled up tight in a spongy king size bed draped in velvet and satin bedding. The rest of the room was similarly decadent with a comfortable lounge area, a fully stocked fridge, a pastry window, and a toaster oven to warm things up. As Frederic stirred awake he found himself tempted by the Danishes in the pastry window.

He wiggled free from Chris Anthony, who had been sweating all night and tossing and turning, and sat up in bed. Frederic was shocked that his stomach was actually growling after all that he had consumed the day prior. He looked down at the convex curve of belly fat at his midsection. Was it larger? It sure looked so. He wasn’t sure if it was even possible to gain more than a pound in one day, but if it was, then yesterday was surely the day. In the nude and with a full erection, he stood up and sauntered over to the pastries.

“That ass is lookin’ mighty juicy!” Chris Anthony yelled out. “I wonder what shenanigans are in store for us today.”

Frederic returned to the bed with a danish for him and one for his love. He held one to Chris Anthony’s lips while taking a bite of the other. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Chris Anthony seized Frederic’s soft ass fat and pulled him closer so that Frederic’s boner thwacked against his face.

“How much fatter do you think we’ll be by the time we leave this place?” Chris Anthony pondered.

“I guess that depends on when we leave this place.”

The speakers crackled to life and that eerie voice rang out, “the competition will last five days. The contestant who gains the most weight will be crowned the winner and escorted out of the Factory. The losing contestant will face a new challenger.”

The boys looked at each other. Suddenly the competition became very real. Not only were they to some degree prisoners, but they also were not a team despite their love for one another. Somebody was going to win and neither wanted to be the loser.

Chris Anthony stood up and grabbed his belly with both hands, “It’s on small fry. Gotta keep up with this tank right here,” he shook the softness of his overhang.

The boys locked lips and began to make out, stroking each other’s hard ons. The softness of their midsections pressed against one another as they gripped bulbous love handles. Their bodies felt warm and fluffy from yesterday’s feasting.

“Please exit the dormitory and navigate to the feeding room,” the voice interrupted.

Begrudgingly the boys did as they were told, but first they had to get dressed. Their old clothes were piled in the corner and covered in food stains. So, they opened up the nearby dresser. It was stocked with only two types of apparel: jockstraps and crop tops. Frederic giggled and slid into the uniform.

He certainly looked fat. The bands of the jockstrap sunk generously into his fat legs and blooming muffin top. Chris Anthony pulled one of the crop tops over his head and it stopped only a few inches below his nipples. The entirety of his belly was exposed and he didn’t mind it. In fact both of the guys felt sexy and ready to keep eating.

The feeding room looked a bit more industrial than the prior challenge rooms. It was filled with large stainless steel machines that seemed to be producing different kinds of edible slop. The boys seated themselves in large chairs that slightly leaned back and were connected to a conveyer belt. Almost immediately they were connected to a machine and commenced funnel feeding.

“The machines in this room will help maximize your caloric intake for the day. With specially formulated consumables you will train your body to convert everything you ingest into fat.”

They didn’t seem to have much of a choice as a savory fluid poured into their mouths. Next, their chairs were straightened up as they were given a solid mound of a bread-pudding-like pastry that tasted like sugar and protein powder. All the while mechanical hands massaged their bellies to aid in digestion.

This process continued for some time. Alternating between various liquids and indescribable semi-solid food they ate with utensils. It was strange, but erotic, and both boys had raging hard ons that had barely subsided since yesterday. If they tried to pleasure their erection, the mechanical hands would prevent them from doing so. It was near torture not getting to touch one another nor themselves as their stomachs swelled with calories.

By the time they were ejected from the feeding room both felt completely stuffed. They knew a challenge was forthcoming but they were no longer nervous. Yesterday proved that they could eat far beyond their capacity. Even if they felt stuffed to the brim, room could be made, their stomachs could be stretched. So they entered the next challenge room with gusto.