The Houseboy: Chapter 3

My second month living with Darius was a breakthrough. It was January and Darius and I were giddy to get started on our New Year's resolutions: 60 pounds of fat for me and 12 pounds of muscle for Darius. This meant I had to gain at least five pounds a month to finish out the year at a whopping 220 pounds, and I felt more determined than ever. It certainly helped that the first week of January truly set things in motion. 

“I’ll be working from home this whole week so you’ll be my little pet pig project,” Darius purred huskily. “You’re going to do whatever I say and you’re not going to protest, understand?”

“I understand,” I muttered with an already stiffening cock. 

“And if you do what I say, you’re gonna be a lot fatter. That pooch right here,” he said and pinched the inch of belly fat sitting at my navel, “it’s gonna be a little pot belly by next week.” 

At this point I was fully erect and speechless. 

“So why don’t you open this gift I got you,” he said handing me a big red box. 

I untied the bow and tore off the lid. Inside were two pairs of handcuffs and lots of chain. I was dripping precum in anticipation. 

“Go sit on the couch,” Darius demanded. 

I did as I was told and he proceeded to lock me to the coffee table. The chain was long and allowed for a full range of motion, but not long enough that I could venture far beyond the couch. I sat down and stared at the hulking man before me awaiting my next directions. 

“You’ll spend the next week locked to either the couch or the bed. The only activities you have to do are eat, fuck, and sleep. But you do them when I say. If you have to go to the bathroom you tell Daddy and Daddy will escort you. Got it?”

“Got it… but what about showers?” 

“Pigs don’t shower. Now let’s get some sweets in you before lunch rolls around.”

Darius disappeared to the kitchen and reappeared pushing a waiter’s cart with three delectable looking gourmet cakes and a reusable bottle with a straw. 

“Chocolate tiramisu, Swedish princess cake, and Oreo cheesecake. The drink is a specially formulated high calorie weight gainer. Chow down piggy.” 

I saddled up to the cart and looked around. 

“No utensils?”

“Pigs don’t need utensils.”

I stared at the beautifully constructed cakes for a moment, almost unwilling to disrupt their pristine design, before grabbing a whopping handful of the tiramisu and shoving it in my face. Darius sat at the armchair on the opposite side of the coffee table and intently watched me with each bite. Before long my mint green tee shirt was covered in stains and my stomach was uncomfortably packed tight. 

Midway through the second cake Darius pulled out his fat cock and began stroking it, not once taking his eyes off me. My pace was slowing but I was determined to finish the spread, plus I was a little nervous of what would happen if I didn’t finish. I was avoiding the drink out of fear it would fill me up too fast and prevent my finishing the cakes, but eventually I was so parched I had no choice. I sucked from the straw carefully, anticipating a sugary concoction, but was pleased to discover the mixture to be light and refreshing. I took another swig before diving face first into the final cake: the Oreo cheesecake. I was so stuffed I could feel my face flushing red beneath the gooey icing that was stuck to my cheeks. I was seriously running out of room.   

“This is getting rough!” I exclaimed. 

“Shut up and eat,” Darius commanded. 

His brutish orders were all I needed. My cock sprung to attention and I downed the rest of the cake in minutes. I took a swig of the drink and sat back exhausted as Darius stood up and lumbered toward me stroking his cock all the while. He grabbed my hair and opened my mouth, shoving his member inside. 

“Time to top you off.”

He stroked his foreskin only a couple times before jizz began shooting down my throat. The speed and force of his orgasm indicated he’d been edging the whole time he was watching me. He finished, pulled up his pants, and patted me on the back. 

“Good boy. Now lick yourself clean before lunch comes.”

I did as I was told before drifting off into a food coma.