"Pie, Spy" - Part 4 & Epilogue

"PIE, SPY..."

written by Frenchfeeder (2004)

PART FOUR

  Brad woke up in a dark room. He was naked again. It was an empty room, somewhere… He had no idea where Fred's henchmen had locked him in. Distant noise and effluvia would indicate a Factory. Was he trapped in the basements of Fillmore Inc. Factory?…

  The room wasn't really all that dark, but Brad was still dizzy from the sedative. He wasn't alone in there… Brad leaned in and tried to wake up the naked, chubby boy who was also sleeping in a corner of the room. Oh god! it was him – him: the boy from his first day at the Club, the boy from his dream at Tony's place, it was just the hottest boy he could hope for… and, was Brad diving deeper into his dream, or was that boy even bigger, fatter and softer than before? Brad couldn't believe his eyes. He approached his hand then carefully touched him. Definitely not a dream. Who thought this would be too good to be true? it was just Heaven on Earth… Brad caressed the boy's round belly and butt, patted the fat bulge around his bellybutton, pressed his chunky love handles and played with his soft tits and nipples until the boy moaned and eventually woke up.

"Oh, please… go on… more… Brad?"

"Yes…"

"What are you doing here?"

"Let me take care of you…"

""What am I doing here? Where are we?"

  The boy was up now. Brad couldn't want him more: he was all cheeks, and round, huge drooping belly on his pear-shaped body… But his boy was just as surprised to be here as he was.

"Where are we, Brad? Is this a… favour Uncle Tony's doing to you?"

"No… No. For all I know… I think we're at the Factory."

"It smells like it, pies and sugar… But I don't know this place."

"You know the… Who are you?"

"I'm Leigh Fillmore, Tony's nephew."

  OK, Brad was up. THIS BOY was Old Fillmore's grandson? The boy he had been looking for? He had been walking in front of him THE ENTIRE TIME! Brad could have slapped himself for being so careless… But this boy was so different than the one he had seen on Old Fillmore's pic. Facing him, Brad took Leigh's head in his hands and looked closely at him: those were the same mahogany eyes, same eyebrows, same everything – It was him… but he must have put on a hundred and fifty pounds, at least! 

"What's wrong with you, Brad?"

"You've got so… plump!"

"Well… thanks. You too…"

"I understand: They didn't have to hide you, they only had to keep you under their watch, and turn you into a fat boy… They would always be around you, force feeding you… They have fattened you up so I wouldn't recognise you!"

"Recognise me?… Brad, the first time I saw you was at the Club."

"I had seen you before."

"Really?"

"I've been hired by your grandfather, to find you… I'm an investigator."

  Surprisingly enough, Leigh didn't like that. He stepped back in anger.

"My grandfather? It was the old crow who hired you?… Oh, I guess he wanted me back in the office, where he would starve me to death again!"

"So… wait a second. You got fat on purpose?"

"What purpose? I've always wanted to get fat. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to see Tony's boys grow plump and happy on the company's food, and I wasn't allowed to overeat even on Christmas' Eve? My grandfather had put me on a permanent diet. So I ran away! This was not my first time!"

"Then, Tony's boys took you among them?"

"Yeah! And I couldn't dream of a better way to fatten up. Now I'm finally happy the way I am, and the old Führer…! Oh, that he… that you?… You, of all people? How did he even find me?"

"He… He didn't, really. I did."

"Yeah, right! How did he find you? A gainer and a Private Investigator, please!"

"I'm not a gainer! Or… I wasn't then…"

"But you've grown so fat… you're so good at this! you…"

"I had promised you I would fatten up more…"

  This was enough – along with Brad's irresistible look – to win the boy back. Leigh came close and embraced him slowly, caressing his butter soft skin, admiring him…

"So… you've got this fat and huge… for me?"

"That's right. From the moment I saw you, I couldn't leave you out of my mind…"

"Really?"

"I had all sorts of wet dreams about you…"

"Maybe we can live those dreams, now… You won't let my grandfather know?"

"But… your grandfather was worried about you."

"Because he and Tony have a weak heart? It ran in the family. Thanks to my mother's side, I am in a much healthier condition. I can eat and pig out to the point of bursting, and my stomach feels just right, and my heart is just as good beneath my fattened up chest…"

"No, I meant… Your grandfather was worried because… he thought you had been kidnapped!"

"Too many Humphrey Bogart movies, grandpa…"

"No, Leigh… They've asked for a ransom!"

"A what?"

"Ten million dollars, no less…"

"Come again?"

"That's why he hired me. And now… now, they're going to kill you!"

"Are you like sugar-high from your last feeding session, or are you just crazy? I love these guys! They didn't kidnap me or anything: I've begged them to hide me from the old crow's surveillance. Tony has probably thought better to play along with the whole abduction extravaganza, but he would never make such a sick joke as a fake ransom or make-believe death threats!"

"You're right…"

"See? Now, why are we stuck in here?"

"You're right about Tony and the boys. It wasn't them… It was your other uncle, Fred!"

"Uncle Fred?… Brad – honey – you're really hot… but really you're nuts!"

"I'm serious! I think we've just fallen into his trap…"

"A trap? We're trapped here? Like in a hole of his electric golf course? Come on, Brad! I'm only 19, but he's the real kid in our family…"

"What do you know, there's nothing more dangerous than a kid with too many toys!"

"So… He's really out to kill me?"

"Both of us. I know too much now…"

"Well, after all this time knowing too little…"

"You don't sound too much concerned."

"It's just… It's hard to believe: why would Uncle Fred kill me?"

"How about Charlie wants to own the chocolate Factory?"

"How about Uncle Tony? I don't see him here, so he's not on the to-kill list."

"No… He is. Fred will make it look like it was Tony's plan. With you dead, he inherits Old Fillmore's fortune and all. He's the perfect scapegoat!"

"Cause, with Uncle Tony charged with murder, Uncle Fred would finally inherit?… Oh, for the love of CRAP!"

"I know… And I think I know how he's going to do it."

"How?"

"Today… when the pie-eating contest you Uncle Tony's organised will start."

"The pie-eating contest? but… you're right… I know where we are!"

"You know? Where?"

"This is an extension of the Factory we only use on special occasions… like this week-end! So, this is it? Today? This is how I'm going to die?…"

"Now, come here…"

  Brad cuddled the shaking boy in a loving embrace. Leigh was finally getting the whole score – and so was Brad… Leigh was on the verge of tears. Brad tried to find a way out of this place – looking for a wormhole in Fred's plan… He found nothing, except that the boy at his side was so hot…

"This is not the end, Leigh… I'll get you out of this… And there will be more food for you…" Brad was getting so hungry – and horny! "More food…" And sex! He needed this hot boy…

"You're nice… but there's no way out!"

"I'm sure there is… Let me think."

"You're so hot, Brad. For a man who wasn't a gainer, you've nailed it really! You're so… soft."

"I think I'm getting pretty hard, right now…"

"Brad?"

"Leigh?…"

"First time I had sex was before my fifteen birthday, but… If I had been told someday I would meet a guy like you, I would have waited… Want to be my last time?"

"Stop it, we're not going to die…"

  He kissed him, feeling as much as he could of this boy, who was so perfect for him now – his hands concentrating on Leigh's plump lower back, massaging him, his fingers digging into the thick layers of fat on his smooth, chunky sides.

"This is our last moments together, Brad."

"Will you cut the romantic fluff?"

"Take me…"

  After another long, hot kiss, Brad turned around him slowly, in a totally predatory move, then behind the boy – his hands onto the sides of his ample belly. Brad pressed his hand against one side, then the other, making it swing back and forth a little with a few gentle slaps. Finally grabbing two handfuls of Leigh's thick rolls of lard, Brad squeezed them and let all the delicious flab shake a little. Then Brad let his hands slid to the boy's sides, his large hips and overlapping love handles, watching his fingers sink deep into the soft flesh. He leaned closer to the boy, suddenly, wrapping his strong arms around him, and cupping his bulging chest in his hands, pulling on the hard nipples, delightedly listening to Leigh's moans of pleasure and anticipation. Brad made this last for a little while, until he was unable to resist any longer, himself. He grabbed Leigh's ass firmly and pushed the flesh, exposing him better, then slowly slid his red-hot hard cock inside. Then he caressed Leigh's body all over, kissing the back of the boy's neck… The deeper he went, the louder Leigh would groan and moan, begging for more… If they only had a few dozens doughnuts around, Brad sighed. He would feel so much wilder on a full stomach, his belly bigger and harder… and he could feed the boy just as well! Brad felt an excruciating combination of pleasure and frustration. With each thrust he could feel his fat jiggling and rippling as well as the boy's own flabby body. His boy was still moaning hoarsely, and Brad began to increase speed until it was as if they found the perfect rhythm. Brad watched it fascinated, their fat flesh jiggling and swaying sent him into orbit! A few more hard pumps and he couldn't hold back any longer – he shot deep inside Leigh's core with a long, out of breath last moan… They fell asleep on the floor, holding each other in a tight embrace.

  It wasn't long, however, before Uncle Fred and his henchmen came to take them. They only woke up realising they were handcuffed. And the men had all guns pointing at them. Fred followed his nephew and Brad into a large room that looked like a warehouse, with two metallic seats – and some strange accommodations…

"I guess you've finally figured things out."

"I've figured you out: You're a total loony!"

"Want me to sing a tune? Seriously, I would… Best day of my life! By Monday morning, all this will be mine… King of my own country! Oh, I can't wait to be the king."

"Think again, Skar!" Leigh protested "Even with us dead and Uncle Tony sentenced for life, do you really think my grandfather will give you the keys of the company?!"

"Good point, Leigh… But really, I think Saint Peter will give me the keys of this earthly Paradise. Your grandfather is dying. Not just of old age and a weak heart. Only… his cancer is in terminal state, now. Didn't tell you a thing? That's how proud he is. But he was so worried about you because he wanted to see you one last time, I guess…"

"So you arranged all this…"

"Including you being here, Brad. I didn't know how stupid you were, but I was right about the gaining thing… in the end. I had supplied enough fattening food to have you hooked up on sweets and pies. Thought you had a sweet tooth – turns out it was the whole jaws… You did everything according to my plans. OK, not exactly but close. Can't blame me for being impatient…"

"How about Tony? He knows me, he'll find it out!"

"Tony doesn't know about that last-minute death threat. Hell, he doesn't even know about the ransom! And when your dead bodies are found, he won't believe it but everything will be against him. Now, boys, I hope you're both hungry – what with the sex and all."

"You… bastard!"

"Hey, I'm not judging. I can see why my nephew couldn't resist your good looks, Brad boy. You're like Brad Pitt, really. Just the… bottomless kind of Pitt."

  Fred's henchmen had strapped Brad and Leigh on the metal seats – with solid chains, this time – when both seats suddenly moved and turned to face what looked to Brad like a processing chain...

"Honestly, Brad? I'm amazed that no one around dig just a little further than first impressions! I mean, what are you doing with just a slice of the cake in your hands, when you can have the whole thing for you? Old Fillmore dying from Cancer, Young Leigh here fattened up to death and poor, clueless Tony convicted with his nephew's murder – what do you get? Me. Just me! Not behind all this, but up front, at the top of this company, with more money than you can count. Not that you'll count much after this is over…" 

"Fattened up... to death?"

"You're demented, Fred!"

"OK, it sounds rough, I admit. I could kill you right now, quick and clean. But then, that would be so much like me, you know what I mean? Guns… Toys? It would have my name all over it… I want to make it look like something Tony would do. Hey, you know what? much more like something he DOES! With videos and pictures and bills to prove it… This extension of the Factory is used in some cases – desperate cases, I should say – to fatten up too thin yet seriously devoted beginner boys, and give them a good push toward chunkiness. Like your friend Josh! Only this time, the machine won't stop when you're stuffed full to the point of bursting, it just... won't stop."

  Brad and Leigh looked at each other in panic. Uncle Fred started the machine, and in a few minutes a series of hot apple pies began to be shoved in Brad's opened mouth. Leigh had to do the same, on the other hand, with banana cream pies.

"Bon appétit, messieurs… Bye!"

"HELP!" Brad and Leigh called between mouthfuls of pies "ANYONE! HELP US!"

"Ever heard of soundproofed basements, guys? Seriously…"

"Oh, like you're such a smart ass… uncle FREAK!"

"So what? Because I have to kill you to get just what I deserve, I'm Lord Sauron all of a sudden?… Well, I can live with that. What I couldn't stand any damn more was seeing you, Leigh, and my big brother Tony, and the old dictator – leaving all the hard work to me at the company so he could parade all he wanted, and you would grow a fat paunch, and Tony would just watch! All of you, enjoying yourselves in your private, pathetic fairylands. But hey, big picture, big guys? Something that's always been lacking to you, I guess… And now, I'll make it so you don't fit in that picture any more…"

  The feeding machine began to speed up, making it impossible for Brad and Leigh to do anything else but munch and swallow the food. Brad could feel the pies going into his stomach. There was nothing he could do but take them. Then the constant supply of pies was put on hold for a minute – a tube was inserted into his mouth automatically, and started pouring down his throat what Brad recognised as Tony's most fattening chocolate milk-shake. Once again, there was nothing Brad could do but take it. After a gallon of shake maybe, Brad felt a little relieved that it was cheesecakes now. He found it hard to believe that this was going to kill him – all this tasted so good! The mouthfuls were bigger than Brad was used to take in, but he enjoyed it too...

  Leigh was also eating and drinking a lot – Brad was wondering about him: boy was shorter, smaller belly, and he probably wouldn't take it. Take it… for what? – Brad couldn't help but think something would come up… Somebody would notice the activity of the Factory, so unusual on a week-end. The boys were certainly looking for Leigh. Uncle Tony would ask them to look everywhere… It was only a matter of a few hours. Brad and Leigh only had to hold...

  But hours passed and nothing happened – Brad was beginning to struggle, gulping down his food, and drinking… He could see his belly grow further and further in front of him – oh, if Leigh had been facing him, it would be so hot to watch the helpless boy fill up and fatten up so much!… Sometimes, especially after drinking his shake, Brad would belch so loud before eating again, he was pretty sure Leigh was smiling… just as it turned him on when the boy would be so full he burped long and low.

  It was probably noon – Brad could hear the distant noise of the crowd. Brad thought the pie-eating contest was taking place close to this building… It was a good thing – but the machine wasn't loud enough to indicate their presence here, and even their big belly belches would be drowned in the rumours outside… Brad was feeling full – and his jaws were getting tired from all the munching – as it was time for doughnuts. If only they had been fed cheesecakes now!… It was already longer than the longest session he had ever experienced. Leigh would find it difficult too, by now… Brad's gut looked like an over-inflated balloon of thick, buttery skin. Leigh's belly was even more stretched and distended than his – Brad felt proud for the boy: he had some guts – obviously… but he was really brave and took large mouthfuls of chocolate cake. Pause again – good: Brad was done with the doughnuts. More shake, and both men were trying to guess what would be next for them: caramel fudge pies? cinnamon rolls? Brad was praying for some soft food, easy to swallow – then he thought about Leigh: he would like it better if he had more sponge cake, which was so hard to gulp down, as long as his boy would get cheesecake!

  They both felt relieved, when the tube got out of their mouth and food was ready again: it was creamy cheesecakes for Leigh, and chocolate éclairs for Brad. They belched accordingly, like hungry pigs groaning and welcoming their meal. Leigh ate large and loud, Brad took every other éclair easy now – although they couldn't ignore the growing pain and pressure in their stuffed bellies… Brad had lost conscience of time – even conscience of the danger: the thought had crossed his mind that one bite too much may be his last… but he found it arousing like Hell! He didn't want this to stop. If he had to choose what Heaven would be like for him, it would be just this – except he would see Leigh growing in front of him… and this would last forever.

  The machine kept pushing food into their mouths, and pouring shake down their throats. It didn't even slow down… Brad's last feelings of suspense still in his head concerned the food: now it was éclairs, next thing would be lemon meringue tarts, then after more shake chocolate cream cakes, then plum pudding, then...

  Brad's stomach hurt – his throat hurt – his belly hurt – everything hurt… but more and more food was still automatically pushed into his mouth. And that was enough for Brad to get over the pain – of course, he would have just loved it if Mike had been there to massage his enormous, bloated gut… Brad wanted more, deep down, but he knew that was going to be too much, pretty soon now. Time for more shake… Brad sucked on the tube automatically, as the creamy, thick liquid was flowing down. More food, then. Listening to Leigh as he belched, Brad could tell he was tired too. But he was still eating – he was still alive… Oh, that thought was the only painful thing Brad couldn't get over with! Why? Why did that beautiful boy have to die?... Why did this have to end?...

  Munching and swallowing – that was all he could do. It was all that was left for him: he wouldn't have known how to stand up, if he had been set free. Words lost their meanings. Time and space were all blurry. Only thing Brad knew was true: food – and shake – and Leigh… and Death. Brad didn't even think about the next kind of pastries he would be fed. He didn't even care about what he was being fed right now… Leigh was little more to him than a periodic low belch – just what he was to Leigh's fainting consciousness, for sure. He began to hallucinate – everything was a dream… Some weird, hardly three-dimensional dream… Who knew? Brad's belly was stronger than his brain: this was driving him crazy before his gut would even burst! It was so full, Brad wouldn't even dare to rest a hand on his gut – but his eyes didn't see anything except flashes of coloured lights… Next thing he knew, Andy would be dancing in a yellow tux and top hat, with glitter – and singing Lady Marmalade...

"Brad? Brad!"

  Now, what did he just think? Wasn't that Andy on the dance floor? Or… Was that really Andy?

"Brad, wake up… Oh, for the love of Jude Law! he's breathing…" 

  That… Really, that was Andy! Brad was only sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. Leigh was being taken care of by doctors, and the Factory was full of policemen – Tony and his boys, and Mike – and Andy was there, talking to them!

"He'll be OK, guys."

"Good thing we got him of the woods soon enough…"

"Out of the wolf's stomach, you mean! How's your little red riding hood?"

EPILOGUE

  Brad slept for twenty hours straight, in the hospital. Leigh and him had been placed in a private room, where Tony's boys would take turns and spend hours massaging their two insanely bloated guts. The doctors would come by every now and then. Andy had been allowed to sleep in a room next to theirs. He was always sitting by Brad's headset. Of course, Brad was out of danger… Of course, Andy was listening to his walk-man, reading magazines and hitting on the boys… but it was obvious he cared for his partner – Tony and the doctors respected that.

  On the other hand, Leigh was getting better too. His belly had been stretched out too much, and he was being given some special treatment to ease the tension in his intestines, sleep and let his skin adapt to his belly's new girth. He was a sight to behold: under all the caresses, and thanks to the doctor's medication, you could see his belly round up and soften up – and its content turn into flab, new rolls of lard and love handles thickening, and more flab… The doctor had been worried about him, at first, but everything was getting into all the good places now.

  When Brad finally woke up, the four boys who had been massaging him before followed him as he was going to see the doctors in the block. They helped him get out of bed, too. Brad was so fat, and his belly was so huge and drooping so low that he could barely stand up, when his feet touched the cold floor. Then he straightened up, and looked at himself in the operation mirror, still fully naked – Brad had truly become a mountain of fat flesh. He had even beaten the machine! He was so proud of him and Leigh...

  On the hospital scale, Brad was weighed in at 498lbs – and his belly was over 70"... What surprised the doctors the most, however, was Brad's excellent physical condition. Not that he would run anymore, but he had the heart for it...

"My heart is more into eating, right now…" Brad thought.

  Leigh woke up a few hours after him. Everyone was anxious about him. Being only 5'10'' tall, he looked just as obese as Brad, probably even more since he had less muscle mass under the lard – weighing in at 390lbs. Brad was looking at him closely – lusting for him: The boy was all blubber now… Leigh's physical condition wasn't that bad either – and it wouldn't take long for him to be in good health, although the doctor told him he would have to change his diet after this – which made all the boys shudder.

"From what the police told us, you spent eighteen hours straight on that machine. Now, after your stomach and digestive system have been engorged so much, and for so long, your eating capacities must have increased dramatically. First thing, we're going to help your liver and kidneys recover from that week-end. But then, your stomach will certainly double in size soon, and you will crave for larger quantities of food. I can arrange you a meeting with our nutritionist, if you want, but basically you will have to eat a lot more than you were used to. And the same goes for you, Mr. Inge."

"Hey, if you say so…"

"We'll make sure they get enough good food to eat, Sir…" one of the boys said, beaming.

  Leigh had to pass a series of medical exams, but Brad could already go back at Tony's Mansion. Then he finally asked Andy how he had been there on time to save them.

"Easy, Brad. You had left me a message."

"But… It's not like I told you where to find me."

"Yet, in a way, you did."

"Andy, I didn't even know!"

"You didn't give me a clear message, but there were all the right ingredients to bake my own cake… Confronting Uncle Tony? Asking his brother Fred for help? That was all wrong, especially as I had gathered some more evidence about the Fillmore brothers… Next thing you know, I called and found out everything was only a set-up. When I met the boys, they were just looking for Leigh. We cleared everything up. They went all search-and-rescue, I took care of Uncle Fred."

"You… You took care of him. How?"

"His private number was still at your place. I thought Fred needed some sort of alibi for the time being, while you boys would be pumped full. And I was right. I had his first secretary on the phone. Charming girl, really – pleasant phone voice and all… So she told me where I would find him. Turns out Uncle Fred was inaugurating some building downtown, on his uncle's behalf. Perfect place to be seen by so many witnesses. Even photographed…"

"So, he was put under arrest?"

"Not exactly… at first. We had to have him spill where you guys had be trapped and strapped. Uncle Tony has been kind enough to let me borrow his Security Guards. And so… we took care of the guy."

"You mean, you captured him?"

"That's elementary."

"That is so Sherlock's…"

"Sure it is, goldylocks! And just as brilliant… I told the receptionists I had some news concerning his uncle and boss – and that it was extremely urgent. Uncle Fred literally jumped head first into my trap, just thinking Old Fillmore would have passed away."

"He didn't suspect anything?"

"We had never met, Brad. I only knew him from the pictures I had. And you hadn't even told him you had a partner! Thanks a lot, by the way… If you had been told before that your standalone, bad boy egoism would save your ass!…"

"You're right. I guess it turned out for the best."

"Well, sure! We're up for the big pay out, here! You were hired to bring back the old man's grandson, and we come up with like two and a half of him!…"

  Next week, Brad spent all day visiting Leigh at the hospital. The boy's figure looked better and fatter, day after day. His medication helped a lot. His uncle Tony's innumerable boxes of fudge and chocolate helped too… And Brad would help feed his loving boy when it was time for lunch and dinner. On the other hand, Brad was keeping his promise to Leigh and had already made it well over 500.

  On Friday evening, Leigh was declared good and healthy – not really Olympics healthy, but… obese healthy? Brad welcomed him in the large room Tony had given to him – along with the room service all-night call for mutual feeding sessions. Leigh wanted to get naked first, and step on the scale: The fat boy of Brad's dreams weighed a good 415lbs! He thought he was so hot right now. But he was also tipping the scale at a smashing 520lbs – and their weight gain was unstoppable, now... They started feeding each other – they had so much more to share in private, after being separated for so long.

"And to think you didn't even know what a gainer is!"

"Now, that's what Andy's promises of secrecy are worth…" 

"You're such a porker, now!"

"You've grown into quite the fat hog, yourself…"

"Thanks… Thanks to you, in a way…"

"You're welcome…"

"Think I can really get fat as hog, like you?"

"Let me take care of you, and you'll see…"

"Hmmm, great! because, I want to be your fat hog boy…"

  Tony and his boys were grateful to Andy and Brad, having broken Fred's plans to take over the Company – also fully charging him for both Brad's and Leigh's amazing weight gains, in the "official explanations" Andy gave to the police and the press. Tony's gaining activities would stay underground and quiet. Brad wanted to stay with Leigh, so Uncle Tony offered Andy a top position in the Head Office, about planning parties and organising other social events for the Company, a job Andy was more than happy to take – though he did bargain with Tony, just for the fun of it...

  When Leigh's condition was considered "healthy" and stable again, after a week of daily check-ups, his weight had also settled around 450lbs. Of course, Brad had gorged his way up to 550lbs… Their appetite was also up – which was to be expected. Leigh winked at Brad in the most charming way, cuddling him after another incredible night of sex and mutual feeding...

"You know, they had to cancel the pie-eating contest, because of us…"

"Because we… ate all the contest pies?"

"I don't know. Contest has been postponed: It will start next Saturday."

"We should enter that contest, to make it up to your uncle Tony. Sounds good… fat boy?"

"Hmmm, sounds just fair… Bigger Brad…"

THE END

"Pie, Spy" - Part 3

"PIE, SPY..."

written by Frenchfeeder (2004)

PART THREE

  The pants and suit were large, fitting just fine for Brad. It was looking better than any tuxedo he could afford to… rent? Now, Brad thought this was the sunnier side of life! He was ready to go. Mike had called for a limousine, so they could both sit and relax on the road. It was only six o'clock, and they were on their way to Tony's private – and probably secret – party.

"Remember, Brad… Tony's your boss, even if you've only seen so little of him."

"…I know."

"Just checking if you really understand, Brad. During work hours, Tony's your boss, just like he's mine. But we're off-hours, now. And we're going at his place. He's a lot more than your "boss" there!" 

"So he's my… what – master?"

"If you want to call him that… You probably will, anyway. Call him "Sir", at the very least. Don't forget that he's the guy who's made all this possible, Brad: your presence among us, your growing belly, the boys who feed you the most fattening foods money can by and the boys who service you while you get stuffed like a water balloon… You don't know Tony, but you owe him. Big. Everything he wants you to do, you better do it at once!"

"Err, okay…"

  Brad suddenly realised he had never met Tony. How was he supposed to recognise him? 

"Do you think Tony will… ask for me?"

"Most probably, after dinner." 

  Good. Brad was in hot water again – or rather swimming among sharks. But they had already arrived. It was out of town, Brad didn't know the place. It looked like a large estate – research here would take hours, probably days… Mike introduced him to the Security Guards. Armed guard for just a "private reunion"? None of this sounded like good news…

  The only thing that comforted him, as they were walking through the Great Hall, was the smell of food – hot pies? meat in sauces? French fries? – it was so strong, the kitchen must have been near… or there was an enormous amount of it waiting somewhere. Brad was pretty sure the latest explanation was the good one. His stomach groaned and rumbled.

"Patience, Brad boy. You'll be fed soon enough. First, I'm going to ask if Tony can see you now."

"Oh? Good… Please do."

"Wait for me here, okay?"

  Brad was torn between his need to stay in the Hall and wait for Mike, as he was helping him with this whole situation, and his desire to look for Leigh in the Estate. But it was pointless just now: A boy worth 10 million dollars wouldn't be "hidden" so close to the entrance – guarded as it was… Mike came back with good news: Tony was ready to see him in his office.

"Come in, Brad boy…" a soft yet commanding voice called from behind the door, as Brad was waiting. 

  There he was: Uncle Tony. Somehow, Brad had imagined him to look like a big ball of fat flesh, with arms and legs, and a head… Now it sounded just stupid. Tony was nothing like Mr. Potato anyway. He wasn't short but he was shorter than Brad – average height, overweight but not by much – probably 5'9" and a good 220lbs… His looks had to be in the family: just like his uncle and nephew on that pic, he had brown hair, hazel eyes, his face neat and clean-shaven. He told Brad to sit down.

"I was impatient to see you, Brad…"

"Me too, Sir."

"Now, now… I know it's supposed to be the second time we meet, but I like to think it was worth the wait. How much do you weigh, Brad boy?" 

"Three-hundred and fourty pounds, Sir." 

"Okay… That's not much – but still good. You know, sometimes I think I'm the saddest man on Earth: I can't eat so much as I would like to – I can't put on weight like you do. One drink too much and my liver hurts like Hell. One burger too many and my heart will thump like Indians on the path of war… Now, if that's not the definition of sadness, what is?!"

"I'm… sorry for you, Sir?"

"Breaks your heart, huh Brad? Then again, probably not: You must have the heart of an ox! You're young, you look strong. You can stuff your stomach way over the top, and somehow it's begging for more. Mother Nature's been generous to you. Total harmony between mind and body – perfection. And the red-hot cherry topping the icing of the cake, you're good-looking. I should be so jealous of you…"

"…"

"But I'm not. I envy you, that's true. But I like to think I have some lucky stars, too. For instance, there's my next-to-top position at Fillmore Inc. There's the money, of course. And this house… And other houses… and the power to make you and my boys bigger than fucking houses! I've been following your progress – you're an interesting boy, Brad. Get up!"

"Thank you, Sir" Brad answered, standing up.

"Get undressed."

"Yes Sir…"

  Brad took off all his clothes as fast as he could – which wasn't so easy, with so many buttons… He didn't mind, since his suit was making him a little uncomfortable, especially around the waist. Then he stood up naked in the middle of the room, waiting for Tony Fillmore to stop walking around him and tell him what to do. His master was slowly examining him, under every angle.

"That's a nice belly, Brad."

"Thank you, Sir…"

"Like to show it off?"

"Err… Yes, Sir. I'm proud of it."

"It's too small! You're not fat enough for my taste."

"I'll do my best to reach the goal you assign me, Sir."

"I'm sure you will... You look like a nice boy. Strong body, really... You work out, right?"

"Yes, Sir. With two of your boys, Keith and Danny."

"I don't remember them… They must be too skinny and underweight. Just like you were when you first joined my boys! Now that was a real pain in the ass. I love to fatten up boys like you, Brad. Scratch that: I LIVE to fatten up boys like you… You will look so hot with a round, plump belly. This is just what I want to see on you… And Mike tells me you're getting greedy just the way I like?"

"I hope so, Sir."

"We'll see... Come over here."

  Tony made a gesture and Brad followed him to a corner of the room, where a a large buffet trailer waited for him next to a thick, wood bench.

"What do you do except eating and working out?"

"Nothing, Sir. I just… sleep." 

"Only pumping your pecs and biceps, hard and strong – pumping your gut huge and blubbery… Very good, my boy! Really, you're my kind of boy: lazy and overfed. You're a pig, Brad!"

"I am a pig, Sir."

"Obedient too… Excellent! I can make you obese and obedient. You're staying so still – sit down."

  Brad sat down, spreading his legs to let his belly droop heavily in his lap. Tony liked him better this way. He looked rounder of course, thick rolls of belly fat and chunky love handles…

"Boy like you shouldn't move too much. In fact, you shouldn't move at all… I would like to fatten you up to almost permanent immobile state. Make you my very own, fat blimp…"

"Sir."

"I don't know… Probably not. You didn't come here to get so fat and huge, anyway. Get up, Brad."

  So Brad got up again, startled by Tony's last words. Standing in front of him, Uncle Tony rubbed the soft mass of Brad's belly, making small circles around his bellybutton.

"Hard to believe now that the old crow hired you as "Muscle" to do some research for him…"

"You… Huh… Yes, Sir." 

"See how lucky I am? He didn't ask me about it – didn't tell me a thing, actually. He's hired you, I don't know… out of nowhere? – and BANG! turns out you're the best gainer boy I could wish for. It's like Santa's been early on his way to me, this year…" 

"But… Sir? What about Leigh?"

"Well, what about him?"

"I was… I was hired to find him…"

"You can forget about Leigh! He's fine where he is now…"

"But… Sir?"

"What? You still working undercover here?"

  Tony was raising his voice – Not a good thing. Brad felt like he had seen right through him: there was definitely more than just feeding boys, around here… He thought it would be better to play with Tony again – and more!

"More like "under layer", Sir…"

"Yeah! Right there, Brad boy… Growing and softening layers of flab. You're such a lucky boy! In fact, I will let you make your choice: you can go back to whatever miserable, lean, hungry life you had before… or I can keep you under my protection, forget about the way you joined us, and feed you fatter than you even dared to become. There will be more food than ever, more sexy boys completely devoted to your needs. I guess you want more, Brad…"

"I want more, Sir."

"That's what I like to call the power of Mind over Body: my mind, your body. You will be the gem of my collection of fattened-up boys, Brad! Follow me…"

  And Brad followed Tony, still naked, from his office to hallways, and into a large, lavish room where some of the boys were waiting for him – next to hardwood tables almost bending under the weight of all the food that was resting on them…

"This is all for you, Brad. I want to see how you handle this. These boys will feed you until I say they can stop. I know you will be a good boy and eat like a pig – okay?"

"Right, Sir."

"Josh will be in charge of blowing you tonight. He kind of insisted about it… After having finally passed 330lbs himself, he told me that was due to your encouragement and support. See how everything bad has a price? Everything good deserves a reward, I say. Now, sit down and relax."

  Brad did just so, as he was getting used to it. But the boys strapped his wrists and ankles with leather bands and attached them to the arms and legs of his large chair. Brad also heard a sound that was new – then he realised he was getting taped by several cameras…

"Don't worry, Brad" said Tony. "It will be for my private collection only. Now, start feeding him!"

  How many boys were they around Brad? Josh was ready to rub Brad's gut as it was going to grow more than ever before, and suck him as his cock was already getting hard. Mike had a large bowl full of macaroni and cheese – and he would coach the others at the same time. Another boy had a bowl of mashed potatoes, heavy cream and beef. A third boy was responsible for the meat pies and sweets when it would be time for dessert. A fourth boy would go with vegetable and cheese pies, then cheesecakes. A fifth boy was carrying the largest bowl, full of greasy French fries. He would dip them in mayonnaise. Next to him was a sixth boy with a slightly smaller bowl full of onion rings, next to a pot of barbecue sauce. There was a seventh boy with a bucket of fried chicken wings in Texas sauce. An eight boy had something like fifty scrambled eggs and four pounds of fried bacon, which would be followed by some extra-fattening ice-cream. Another boy would take care of massive cheeseburgers – Brad knew he would have to open wider for those than for any other food – and he would feed him doughnuts afterward. One more boy had a half-a-gallon pitcher full of chocolate gainer-shake, and the last boy would pour beer into Brad's throat with a hose, straight from the keg… Twelve boys, just to stuff him? This was the challenge of a lifetime! Brad closed his eyes and opened his mouth, ready for whatever they would do to him…

  After a few hours of feeding, Brad began to loose conscience of anything that wasn't food or sex. More and more fattening mouthfuls, handfuls, spoons full, fried chicken or burger pieces were going down his oesophagus and bloated him – pushing everything further – he was getting so full, it was hard for him to follow the feeding rhythm. Josh was sucking on his rock-hard cock so well, Brad could focus on the pleasures this round, chubby boy was giving to him so generously, instead of the pain he was feeling in his gut. But it wouldn't let itself be ignored for long…

  Thank God! Mike was there, and he would tell the boys to hold on. They didn't want Brad to suffer, of course. Brad felt reassured, breathed slowly and calmed down, belched loud and long several times, watching his enormous belly swell and round up under the caresses of Mike, Josh and the others. Brad's overstuffed intestines would groan with pain. Brad would sigh, wondering: these were only pauses. There was so much food left in the room for him – and probably more in the kitchen – until Tony would tell them to stop… 

  Anyway, Brad was no weakling. He had taken up the challenge, for whatever it was worth… After an hour or so, he agreed he was ready for more. He opened his mouth and ate with renewed confidence. That was it – this would be his life, now! Brad was not going back. He would never go back. It would be foolish to resist now: Brad couldn't go back to the way he was. No matter how hard he tried, he would never get in shape – unless that shape was a sphere…

  Brad's determination was obvious. It was encouraging the boys a little. They didn't say anything, but they all cared for Brad. He was more than a "super-size big eater" to them. He was even more than "hot guy" or anything. They all knew him to be a nice, decent guy – and they didn't want him to go too far now. As much as they had enjoyed watching Brad eat and be fed before, they had never seen him like this. But even Brad had his limit, all mighty porker that he was…

  It was getting so late. Tony had come back to see Brad, and he was very pleased with him. He told them to let Brad rest for a few hours and go stuff themselves on the leftovers. Brad was already tired so he only heard the boys eat for a while… then it was all quiet and still…

"You're hotter than ever…"

  Was he dreaming? Brad opened his eyes. He would have sworn it was him. He had recognised that voice… It was him – like on his first day of feeding, at the Club. Brad called…

"Wh… Where are you?"

"Right here, big guy…" 

  Yes, it was him. Brad wanted to see him, and he was afraid at the same time…

"Am I dreaming?"

"Looks more like my dream, Brad…"

  Brad finally looked at him. That boy was so cute! and he was almost naked, too – his skin so smooth, well tanned and buttery. Not that he would have fit in any other clothes than XXL, anyway… He sported a round, large belly, with chubby love handles and a deep, low bellybutton. He had to be around 280lbs at least… 

  The boy had such beautiful brown hair. His cheeks were so nicely plump, and his whole body looked all soft and curvy so well, it made Brad stand erect again… And his voice was just as soft – so charming, so tempting. There was magic in the air… It was so dark and quiet, further away – what time was it?

"Boy, you're… gorgeous!"

"Now Brad, you're the expert about gorging, here… Hot belly stud."

"I've been looking for you…"

"I know… You know what? I've been looking for you too."

"Would you… please, help me with those leather straps?"

"I don't think Uncle Tony would like that. He doesn't want you to move…" The beautiful boy leaned closer to Brad's face, caressing his fat gut, arms, shoulders, then holding him in a light embrace, and whispering, "You're in the lazy boy chair, Brad. The fat, lazy boy chair… You just relax, and sleep – let freedom ring for your gut: right now, you're turning all the pies and burgers, and all the foods you ate so ravenously into soft, luscious fat…"

"You want me to get fatter, boy?"

"You're turning me on so much, Brad… Please, go on like this – get fatter, get bigger and you can call me your very own slave…"

"I'll do it. For you… Uncle Tony won't believe it! But… when will I see you again?"

"Tomorrow night, I think… I will have a day of heavy eating, myself. Nothing compared to what Tony has prepared for you, but some day maybe…"

"I will help fatten you up myself… You're so young. How old are you?"

"I'm… 21. I have to go now… Go back to sleep…"

"Wait… What… what's your name?"

"Sleep… You must be ready for your big fat breakfast, Brad."

"Why don't you, you know… stay here?"

"Come on, big guy… If you need anything, just belch." 

  It was so frustrating! – Brad had finally got to see the boy of his dreams, and he was looking even better than he hoped, and… that was it? Okay, a promise is a promise. Brad relaxed in his chair, pinned down by all the weight in his belly. Sleep came back, along with more wet dreams. Then Brad was woken up by the boys… He felt dizzy – was this scene with the boy part of a dream? Was this whole thing just a dream?

  Reality rushed in soon enough. Uncle Tony was beaming, looking and poking at the soft expanse of Brad's belly. He told the boys to help him stand up. Brad was set free, and he slowly waddled out of his chair, his figure swaying and rippling with every step or movement he made. All the boys around were encouraging and congratulating him about his overnight growth.

"On the scale, Brad boy!"

  They had brought in a very large scale – as it had to be large for Brad to step on it. He stood up and slowly placed himself on the large platter, staying still as the metal squeaked and creaked under his hefty frame. Mike was there to read: 364lbs! The boys were ready to applaud – Brad couldn't care less: He HAD to get fatter, if he wanted to see his dream boy again.

"Very good, Brad! I think you just established a new record here. So... what do you say?"

"I'm hungry, Sir."

"Perfect. Come here, my boy… Prepare the table!"

  Brad slowly walked to a large, inclined table, where he was told to lie down. He was strapped again, arms and legs spread to let his belly peak and expand the most… At one end of the table, where Brad was resting his head on a cushion, the boys would gather just the same as before, with morning foods that involved greasy pancakes filled with syrup, butter, jam or chocolate, doughnuts and buns, creamy cheesecakes, omelettes filled with ham and cheese, muffins, apricot tarts, strawberry tarts, orange sponge cakes, chocolate éclairs, lemon meringue tarts and pear meringue tarts with marmalade, plum puddings, coconut cakes, chocolate cream cakes, blueberry and cream pies, hazelnut and chocolate chip cakes, cinnamon rolls, peaches and raspberry Jell-O cakes with ladyfingers, strawberry jam and whipped cream cakes, banana splits with vanilla ice cream, and all the different kinds of pies they produced at the Factory…

"Right, boys… Begin feeding!"

  The rest of the day went by in a blur for Brad… He was strapped tight on that table, and getting tighter by the hour. Cameras were rolling – he could see one of them pointing at him from the ceiling. His feeders would take care of him by massaging his huge belly and make room for more food, but the stuffing process was still going on and on. Brad was eating almost non-stop, so stuffed most of the time that he opened his eyes for a while – only to find himself so much bigger and rounder he would smash that table if they didn't stop feeding him soon… Brad could see his fat bulge growing, his belly swelling up in front of him with every swallow. His arms were heavier and his legs thicker. His whole body was getting chubbier. They were going to make him burst, and he couldn't stop it. The only sound to be heard in the room was of him munching sweets and cakes, gulping down whole milk shakes and soft drinks. Brad had totally lost track again of how much he could eat, or how fat he had already become. He just let go, and stuffed himself with everything that was shoved into his mouth, until he was too tired to eat anymore. Mike would ask the boys to pause again.

  Uncle Tony came back to see how things were going, and it looked good to him… He asked the boys to stop and help Brad get up, then Mike helped Brad walk upstairs as they were going to meet Tony privately in his office again. Brad stood still, but his massive gut, swaying from side to side, made him feel somewhat unstable…

"Hey! Here's our big Hero! Yeah, Big Hero it is… How do you feel, Brad?"

"Stuffed… Full… Fat… Sir."

"Sure thing, Brad. Very good… On the scale, fat boy!" 

  The scale was in the next room – a luxurious bedroom with mirrors everywhere, along with some special accommodations. The scale was the largest kind Brad had ever seen, too. As he looked in the mirror, he could hardly believe his eyes. He was enormous! And the scales tipped at almost 390lbs. Tony and Mike were delighted.

"You're just as full as a man could possibly be, but you've grown a lot too… Yes, a lot."

"I think, Brad will weigh around 380 pounds with pure butter fat in his belly tomorrow morning, Sir."

"Sure. Congratulations, Brad…"

"Now, I think you will enjoy this as much as you've enjoyed being fed all day… Go lie down on the bed, Brad boy!"

"Yes, Sir…"

  Brad lied down, and the frame protested as his mountain of ass and belly settled upon the mattress. Mike opened the door to five young, naked boys from Special Delivery service. Tom and Dickie were among them, looking at Brad in wonder and adoration. There was a middle-aged well-dressed man behind them, in the hallway – but he stayed behind. Uncle Tony explained.

"I want you to relax and let yourself go, Brad. Let these pretty – or rather, pretty thin… – boys pleasure you and ease the tension in that gut. You can stay here for the night, if you want… Boys?"

  Dick, Tom and the others joined Brad on the bed, massaging his belly, his shoulders, his man tits, his arms and thighs, his love handles – then they began to cuddle with him, getting themselves aroused and ready – then Brad had sex with every single one of them… 

  Daylight woke him up. The boys were still sleeping at his sides, at his feet… Brad got up, made a few steps – it was easier than he feared. He placed his hands on his belly and shook the lard a little… Mike was so right: He had grown like a hog! Brad made a few steps, went in the bathroom for a while then got on the scale and read: 385lbs – that was more than Mike thought: Brad was really storing all the food he had been fed as fat mass in his belly, and it didn't stop growing…

  Brad got out of the room. The hallways were quiet and empty. It was probably too early for the others, anyway… Good! Brad wandered around, without knowing exactly where to go, until he heard Tony's voice in the distance. He was giving orders on the phone – possibly about Leigh…

"What are you doing here?"

  The voice made Brad jump out of surprise – or just shake his flab more than when he walked. It was the well-dressed man from the night before. Brad had done nothing wrong – but he kept his voice low.

"Oh… Hi. Sorry."

"Why would you be sorry?"

"I don't know who you are, Sir."

"It's Fred, not Sir. I'm Tony's younger brother."

"Oh? So… You're Uncle Fred?"

"Is that what they call me around here?" Fred laughed. "I'm not a regular to Tony's parties. Just came with your boys for the night… I'm the supply manager at Fillmore Inc. We don't exactly say it in the yellow pages, but that covers food supply and this form of consensual prostitution too…"

"Really… Pleased to meet you…"

"I guess you are. Tony's told me how greedy you are – and even if he hadn't…"

  Brad was only aware then that he was completely naked. 

"You liked my boys?"

"Oh… yeah!"

"Good! You know, they're expensive and all, but I think they're worth their pay checks by the end of the month. And you look like a guy who really likes boys. I mean… not only sleep with them, but help them when they're in trouble?"

"What are you talking about?'

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but… you're Brad, aren't you? Brad Inge?"

"You know… You know about me?"

"Honestly, I had trouble figuring you out. What Tony and the boys were telling me about you… it didn't quite match with what old Fillmore had told: you're here for my nephew, right?" He only whispered those last words. "You're here to save Leigh?"

"What do you know about him? Is he…"

"Shush… Follow me."

  Uncle Fred was walking in a hurry, through the grand stairs and right to the parking lot. He waited for Brad, then threw him an extra-large shirt and pair of shorts he had on the back seats of his jaguar.

"Hop on, Brad."

  They left the Estate at normal speed. Uncle Fred didn't want to look suspicious to the guards, maybe. There were no guards around now, anyway. It was earlier than Brad thought: Sun was barely up, and the garden's lawns were only being automatically watered…

"I don't know for sure, but there may be mikes in the mansion."

"Why?"

"No reason, really. But you've seen all the cameras around here… Do you think Tony would like his private collection to be all silent movies?"

"You're right…"

"If we come back late and they ask you, I was only with you for the supplies. Clothes and accessories, you know?"

"Accessories? What is this all about?"

  Fred considered they were out of reach. He stopped the car and explained to Brad.

"Okay… I would have probably contacted you earlier if the old guy had told me about it. I had nothing to do with Leigh at the Factory, and I have my hands full with all the stuff I have to provide. So I didn't even realise Leigh had vanished, you know?"

"But you had doubts, don't you?"

"Not even close… but I had noticed some recent irregularities in Tony's demands, and projects… I'm not talking about irregularities in accountings or check books – no: real, irregular… things here. Then the boss goes to see his bankers and… Insurance companies? What the hell was that, I thought. So, in a way, I started to investigate just like you. Following a different path, maybe…"

"And this is where we cross paths?"

"Exactly. Two days ago, I get a phone call from the boss. Then he tells me Leigh has gone missing, and there's a Private Eye in the place, and this and that… All of a sudden, everything was clear, you know? mix and match?"

"Do you have any idea where Leigh can be hidden?"

"Best guess? Somewhere inside Tony's Estate. This place is only his. I was just a guest for last night – and again, that was a deal with the service I provided…"

"So we agree…"

"And good thing is: you have an open invitation there. You will be there pretty often."

"Yes, but it's not like he's going to show me around the place…"

"Sure thing… I think our best shot is to confront him."

"Confront?"

"Yes! You have no proof against Tony. And, not too rush you into anything, but time is running short!" 

"What do you suggest?"

"You get closer to Tony… Play along the way he likes it. I don't know… but you will find something, I'm sure. Then I will hide a secret cam and mike on you – special device I also deal with. And when you meet Tony, you go provocative and expose him. You have a gun?"

"Only at my place…"

"Okay. If you want, I will have just the right thing for you."

"So… how long do you think it will take?"

"For what?"

"Me, gaining his trust…"

"Come on, Brad buddy. You gain more weight, you'll gain his trust!"

"How about that special device, then?"

"Oh? well, end of the week?…"

"I want it ASAP. Drive me back there."

"So… We have a deal?"

"Deal."

"Here's my number. It's my direct line. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks."

"And hide that card in your pocket. Here we go."

  Brad was feeling better than ever: now he had "a man inside", too. Uncle Fred would be a mighty ally, when the time would come! The rest of the day went just smooth: Brad found the boys still asleep, cuddled with them some more in the hottest, lazy way. Tony invited him at his lunch table – where he only had salad, some clear soup and lean chicken meat… while Brad was to feast on pork and beef all in fattening sauces, along with pasta and French fries in gigantic portions. Tony wanted to see him as he ate, and there were always two boys at least next to Brad, with specific instructions to feed him like a pig. Eventually, Brad wouldn't leave the table until Tony decided his boy was 100% full. 

  It was so late when they drove Brad home. The place looked smaller to Brad – after a week-end in such a large estate, where he had been… enlarged, himself. The clothes Uncle Fred had given to him were fitting, but Brad felt like they were in the way somehow. He undressed and rubbed his huge ball of a paunch, when the phone rang. It was Andy – Brad had almost forgot about it!

"Hey Brad! What's new?"

"Oh man, I'm stuffed…"

"That's pretty new, actually. Welcomed change from your oh-so-tired hellos…"

"I know… I can't believe how much has changed since I took on this mission."

"What's changed?"

"I've changed – I've grown so fat, you wouldn't recognise me!"

"That gainer thing really got up to you?"

"Let's just say that if old Fillmore really pays me all expenses, the way I expand and all, I'm going to be a millionaire! Seriously, Andy… I think it's only a matter of a few days now." 

"A few days? You're pretty confident. We've been in the dark for months…"

"Well, it was about time the sun rose! After last… party at Tony's, I've talked with Fred Fillmore, his younger brother."

"Fred Fillmore? He's your Mr. Sunshine?"

"He's been on the case only recently, on his own. But he says he had doubts for a while. He's been gathering evidence against Tony. Only a matter of time, I tell you."

"Okay, Brad. That's great… Call me when you go into action mode?"

"Sure Andy. Soon."

  The week went by, finding Brad adjusting to his new "lifestyle". The days were pretty much the same, starting with Brad's Big Breakfast: mounds of pancakes drenched with butter and syrup, scrambled eggs with piles of bacon and sausages, pies and ice cream, doughnuts and whole milk. Brad would rest for an hour or two, waiting for his gym buddies. They spent the next hours on the machines, or lifting free weighs. Brad's strength was up: His massive thighs and round gut made it easier for him to lift more than his weight. For all the other guys there, Brad was bulking up like crazy, but it worked – so maybe that wasn't so crazy after all? Brad ate his first lunch at the gym, mostly pizza or fast food delivered right there – then they took Brad to Tony's mansion where he would be strapped in the "lazy chair", or lied down on the feeding table, and he was stuffed to his fullest by dinner time. The other guys gorged themselves in the dining room – the whole bunch of Tony's boys was all into growing paunches, man tits and double chins, after Brad had provided such a gaining show… In the meantime, Brad would be serviced by Fred's own boys. Then it was time for his dinner feeding, which lasted long into the night and would be followed by more sex… Brad was back to his place by three or four in the morning – finding one of his sexy boys snuggling at his side sometimes, when he woke up.

  As much as he enjoyed this – every single moment – Brad knew deep down that it couldn't last much longer. Even if Fred and he did nothing, old Fillmore would get back with the money and everything would be over, in terms of Private Investigation. It was better if Brad ended this himself. But no matter how hard he tried to find Leigh's location in the mansion, there was nothing up really, right now… Nothing but his weight. When Brad stepped on the scale, on Friday morning, Mike was proud that their "favourite boy" had broken the 400 mark. No kidding. Brad weighed in at 424lbs! 

  Feeding sessions were getting easier for Brad. Uncle Tony had been ruthless on Brad's first invitation at his place. Now it looked like he had projects for his boy on the long term – which had to be handled in ways more gentle to Brad. It wasn't all about weight and measurements now: As time passed, and the pattern of gorging, feeding, heavy lifting and resting went on, Brad's metabolism slowed down to a more adapted level, and his body found a new equilibrium more fitting to his constant growing and softening. Struggling to gain just 10 to 20 pounds and break the 400 plateau, Brad's belly finally shaped up for good, and his skin got thicker and buttery, his arms and thighs got so plump and meaty as you would expect from a prized hog. His silhouette was smoother and more balanced between his round full gut and the rest of his body. In the mirror, Brad couldn't help it but feel proud.

  It was already some achievement in Brad's life – not the kind of result he had expected to get, coming to this place, but somehow he totally enjoyed it anyway. Friday had been spent in congratulations from the boys, more food from Tony, more support from Mike, more attentions from Dickie, Tom and a few others… Brad was dizzy, when he came back home – like it had been a 24-hours birthday party for him. He found a note on the table when he entered the living room. It was a note from Mr. Fillmore senior. Brad couldn't believe it, this was all new information – and so unexpected: They were going to kill Leigh! Brad jumped on the phone and called Fred. Time for action!

"Hello?"

"Mister Fred Fillmore? It's me, Brad."

"Brad? Thank God! I've tried to call you like a zillion time today! You know?"

"You know it too?"

"Got a message from the boss. I think they've found out about you, or maybe just about a Private Eye being after them for months…"

"I should have seen this coming. It couldn't be just for money!"

"Maybe it is, but a lot more than 10 million dollars…"

"Do you have those special devices for me?"

"Just got them yesterday. It's our luck… I'm coming right to you."

  Brad waited for the car. He was so nervous… What was this all about? He couldn't think straight. This was too much! But Uncle Fred was right: with Leigh out of the way, Tony would take the reins of the Company for good, and have his way, all the way, with even more means that he had now. Brad wondered about how much he would be stuffed and fattened then, but he thought fast and called Andy. He wasn't there – machine would get the message.

"Andy? As soon as you get this message, hurry, take the next flight and come here! Uncle Tony has given orders to his mugs: they're going to kill the kid, probably tomorrow. I hope they haven't done it already. I'm going to confront him, as Fred Fillmore has the equipment for it. I'm joining him now…"

  The car was here – black limousine again. Brad thought it had to be the family's taste… Uncle Fred was waiting for him inside, holding a glass in his hand. He looked just as nervous as Brad.

"Limousine again?"

"Tony won't expect less than a limo. It's a… thing he has about size, you know? Well, of course you know… Whisky?"

"Sure. You look worried…"

"Hey, it's Show time!… Showdown… Something about a show…"

"It's about time… Think Leigh is already dead?"

"No. Not… not yet…"

"When do you think they will be kill him, then?"

"Tomorrow is a special day for Tony. He has organised this huge pie-eating contest for the week-end. So that would leave him too busy for this week…"

  It made sense: Brad had seen very little of Uncle Tony, recently. And he thought that the crowd and noise during the contest would make the execution job a lot easier too.

"Besides, they can get rid of the body easier, with the animation of this week-end. I wouldn't be surprised if Leigh's body was…mixed somehow in the garbage. It's something we also take care of, on such special events…"

"Right… Time for action, really."

"Here's to action… Cheers!"

"You have the mikes and cam?"

"Here. You see, it fits in a collar button. Like this…"

"Nice!"

"My colleagues call me Q, at the Head Office. Or Inspector Gadget. Stupid guys… But It's true, I have all sorts of extravagant supplies – now, that's my job: supply manager, hello? I like nothing better than a watch that's also a camera, or a pen that can turn into a knife. Everything I have is state-of-the-art when it comes to accessories."

"So you collect those things?"

"Not really. Just a few choice pieces. Like that miniature web cam that's now on your shirt… Or these sleeve buttons, see?"

  Fred lifted his sleeve and showed him the silver button – then Brad felt like he had been shot in the neck! A second tiny arrow was shot, and Brad almost fainted…

"Ooops, what did I just do? Now, poison arrows, don't you think that's the best? I love these things!"

"P… poison?"

"Don't worry… Not actual poison. Just a strong sedative. Shouldn't take long, now…"

"What… what are you doing to me?" 

"I couldn't help you more. Right now, you've never been closer to your goal. In just a few minutes, you will finally meet the boy you've been looking for tirelessly for months… And in a few hours, you will also meet his fate."

  Brad was paralysed. He fell heavily on his side.

"Time for action, big boy… This should be fun!"

(to be continued...)

"Pie, Spy" - Part 2

"PIE, SPY..."

written by Frenchfeeder (2004)

PART TWO

  Brad woke up feeling a little different, that Monday morning. It was also a little late. Sun was up. Brad got up and came into the bathroom to see if his efforts had already gone to fruition. In the mirror, he was a little disappointed: not quite as big as he would have thought – he remembered how huge his gut was looking, the night before – that was only a few hours ago… Then Brad stepped on the scale: almost 260lbs. Now, this sounded better to him: Twelve pounds of fridge-fresh and oven-hot fattening foods, all in his gut. He was still feeling quite full, but it was obvious that he had grown during the night – and softened up. His belly measurement confirmed it: it had to be over 42". Brad was still wondering if that would be enough to please Mike, as he was coming into the kitchen – then he slapped his forehead: there were only empty boxes, beer cans and bottles around. Nothing left for his breakfast… Stupid!

Thank God, Mike was bringing more food for their breakfast – but certainly that wasn't enough! His good friend and cook mentioned how Brad was looking gruff. He was only drinking his coffee black, with the few sugars he had left – although he was craming doughnut after doughnut into his mouth, his stomach was growling, and so was he… Mike was kind enough to leave all his pastries to him, but this couldn't count as "breakfast" as he had gotten used to be served in his kitchen. Anyway, Brad thought it was time for bold statements, and bold decisions. He took a breath and told Mike he wasn't feeling quite "satisfied" with his recent meals: He was HUNGRY, and he would like it better if they could enjoy a bigger, more filling breakfast at the Diner with the Boys. Just as he was saying so, Brad rubbed his empty stomach, looking quite smooth – getting round. Mike showed an impish smile.

"So, you're finally getting on board, sailor? Good thing. You've been eating quite well until now, really, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't waiting for you to come out and pig out for good! Now, today's going to be a little different, if you follow me…"

  Mike drove quickly, taking shortcuts and all. Their morning ride was finished before Brad would even think it was possible. He had done his part too, handling the pies he was responsible for quickly and carefuly, more effective than ever. Still, Mike had kept on giving him pies and beer, so Brad had eaten five whole pies before they had finished their ride – and the new "Boy" was showing every sign of the most encouraging gluttony… As a matter of fact, Brad was wondering about Mike's agenda for the rest of the day.

"OK, we're done! Now we can get to more serious business."

  Finally Brad was being introduced into what he had been longing to know for a month. It was the same bar they went to, every day, with all the others – which left him a bit disappointed. That wasn't exactly the kind of "secret society" meeting place the young detective had in mind. So much for that part of his work: Investigation wouldn't be going anywhere today, once again. The Club was officially closed, but Mike had a master key. The whole place smelled like hot pies, cakes and sweets…There were other "boys" inside – and Brad knew them: he had eaten lunch with most of them – the fattest of the bunch. But now, they were all in briefs and underwear, sitting in booths all around the lunch place, eating and feeding each other. They all looked at Mike and Brad, as they came in.

"Welcome to the Club, Brad boy… Get undressed." Mike said.

"Undressed?…"

"Yup. Time for your Big Breakfast! You're one of the Big Boys, now…"

Brad did just as he was told – If he only had time to weigh pros and cons… Hell, he would have done it anyway: First thing, he wasn't a "Baby" now, he was a " Big Boy". One of them, no less. Just what he had been hired for. That was good. On the other hand, he knew that those "Boys" who were now getting fatter on purpose only wanted to fatten him up just like them – probably even more! Brad still had mixed feelings about this, in the morning light. His belly was already pretty heavy. Also, he knew it for sure by now that most of the guys in here were gay. It was… well, dangerous: Brad didn't want to get involved with someone who could have kidnapped Leigh. Then, as he was thinking further about the poor boy, this appeared to be the easiest way to get to Tony Fillmore. It dawned on Brad: this was the only way. That did it: Brad was going for it!

"Now Brad…" Mike gently patted his soft, bulging round gut. "You've grown a nice beginner belly here. I think you've waited long enough. What do you say, boys?"

They all agreed. Apparently, Brad couldn't have done better – without even knowing. Mike made him step into the circle and each Boy got to pat his belly and rub him all over to feel just how plump he had already grown. They were all very positive and praising Brad's early gaining steps. Baby steps. Brad was blushing and smiling like a fool… Okay, just let go now, he thought. Just listen to what they want, nod like you know what they're talking about, do what they tell you to do and get to know them better. At least, Brad knew what all this meant for him: he was going to eat like a pig – he was going to get bigger and fatter – he was going to work out a lot more on the side – he was going to solve this case!

"Hungry, Brad?"

"Oh yeah…"

His "Big Breakfast" came in front of him: it was taking the whole table – with large piles of pancakes dripping with syrup, a large bowl full of scrambled eggs and bacon, apple pies, doughnuts and ice cream. Brad's heart was racing. He started to eat just the way he had, the day before – now they could see how good he was at it! All the guys were looking at him, actually – but in a puzzled way.

"…What?"

"You're greedy, Brad. That's good," Mike winked at him. "But this way will be better for you. First thing, let me make you more comfortable…" and Brad was forcefully sprawled backwards in the booth, his thick arms draped across the width of the top of his seat. "Good, Brad. Now, open wide…"

Mike had taken a pancake in his hand. He stuffed it suddenly into Brad's mouth, who immediately chewed it down, swallowed quickly, and opened his mouth for the next one. But all the other boys had got their hands on the doughnuts, the eggs and bacon, the slices of pie and the ice cream. They were taking turns to fill Brad's awaiting mouth, enticing him and encouraging him, as the new boy was all into munching and gulping down now.

"Very good, Brad… Go on…"

"Now, eat this, Brad boy…"

"Some more ice cream, Brad?"

"A good bite of pie now, boy…"

Brad was almost smiling – a heavenly grin – when his mouth was closed although he had to chew. He closed his eyes after a while, only focusing on the eating. Food was being strongly shoved down his throat every other minute – this was so much easier than yesterday, in his kitchen and living room! And to think Brad wanted all his colleagues to be there so he could show it to them… Now they will see – eat more – eat more! They won't believe it… 

"You really enjoy this, huh, Brad boy?"

"Now, you need to eat more pie…"

"Drink some milk on it, Brad…"

"Ready for more scrambled eggs?"

Yes: More! Surrounded by these guys totally devoted to feeding him for what sounded like eternity, Brad was feeling like he had arisen into some sort of heroic Heaven, where all his needs and desires would be fulfilled for everything he had endured and suffered before… Mike would stop feeding him to come closer and pat his belly every now and then, rubbing it to appreciate its girth, its fullness and softness. Brad never stopped munching. He couldn't love this any more – couldn't get tired of it! Eyes closed, mouth full, stomach full, all his senses wallowing in delights, he could hear his heart pumping and thumping – until he heard one of the boys whispering to his ear:

"You're hot…"

Brad thought he would go crazy if he stopped eating, then – if he opened his eyes – if he moved even a finger! Eggs and bacon were gone. The boy responsible for them assured Brad there was more to go, just waiting in the kitchen. Pancakes were also disappearing quickly. Ice cream was melting in his hot, greedy mouth. Doughnuts were forced on him to be eaten one by one. The slices of pie made for the heaviest mouthfuls, so the boys were more gentle with those. Brad enjoyed the contrast. He enjoyed the surprise – this was all delicious! Mike's touch around his belly was getting more and more insistent, though.

"Now, Boys? What do you think?… I think we've done it. Our personal best, I must say!"

The feeding stopped immediately. Brad felt it, opened his eyes, and almost moaned for more, but he only got his head up and asked 

"Done what?"

"You're full, Brad boy. Look at you…"

Looking down to his belly, Brad was shocked. It was already stretched out more than yesterday, after his all-day eating frenzy! This had just happened so quickly… Brad took a deep breath, belched loud and long. Fair enough, he was stuffed full, probably full to the top – Mike was obviously an expert in those things – but he wanted this to go on. And he looked like it, groaning and pleading for more food.

"So… it's over? So soon?…"

"It's been three hours, Brad. You've been eating so well, I'm impressed. You can really put away a lot."

"Yeah, good work there, Brad!" The boys were almost cheering.

"Three hours? wow… No shit! I didn't… I mean… I would be ready for more…"

"Hey, you really like that, Brad boy…"

"…I do."

"You want more, don't you? Well then… More is just what you'll get", Mike was rubbing Brad's round, bloated belly. "Now, please rest. We have to eat too. Personally, you've made me so hungry, stuffing your gut the way we did… So, you rest all you want. I'll wake you up, and we'll plump you up again just the same."

Brad got to sit in a large recliner, in a dark corner of the room. He was only realising it now, but he was definitely stuffed more that he had forced himself before – and this way was so much better, and comfortable – and sexy… God! Brad was feeling turned on by every single thing he saw in the room. Those guys pigging out now… Other guys resting like him, rubbing their full tummies… There was another group feeding a boy now, just like he had been fed… They had only started. Oh, that was the best. Brad felt like going up and watch the boy getting stuffed all the way – see what it looked like from the feeder's point of view. But he was feeling so full, and so heavy – and just as lazy – to get up from this place. He rubbed the large expanse of his gut with both hands, trying to match Mike's gentle touch… Brad didn't succeed much with the touch. Then he put himself in position again, closed his eyes and recited the food list to himself: so many pies, and doughnuts, and so much ice cream… and milk, and eggs and bacon… and the pancakes? Have mercy! Brad kept repeating to himself it was all so fattening, and he had had so much – this was all turning into flab right now, just as he was drifting into sleep… Brad was daydreaming, getting hard and thinking about the food, almost hearing it again, so sweetly whispered close to him – he was feeling hotter than with any of his old boyfriends. He would have jerked off, had he been alone just now. But he didn't totally loose track of his mission: there were questions left to be answered, and a trapped boy still to be found, somewhere.

Brad was sitting next to Josh, one of his youngest and friendliest colleagues. Josh had beautiful blond shoulder long hair, eyes so dark and deep you could drown in them, and lips curled in a perfect smile when the boy liked you. Brad had noticed him early on. Josh had put on weight over one month, too – more than Brad, actually – and he sported a very noticeable gut that would almost pop out of his work shirt, but was just proudly bulging out now that he was shirtless. Of course, Josh had just finished a heavily overcharged plate of pancakes with sugar, butter and syrup – and another, smaller plate of chocolate muffins. He was now enjoying his full belly state, sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand, shaking what flab he had in his love handles and spreading his legs to push out his gut… Brad thought he would be the perfect target.

"So, Josh? Does Tony join you guys sometimes, in these private sessions?"

"Tony? He's over there, Brad… Wow, the man does love his banana cream pies!"

"Not Tony here. I meant Tony Fillmore…"

"Oh? no, I don't think Mr. Fillmore has ever dropped by…"

"You've never met the guy, have you?"

"Just the one time, when he hired me. He wanted to see me, because… Well, I was even thinner than you, back then… and…"

"He wanted to know if you were game?"

"Exactly. I guess he must have bothered you about it, too. But you've grown so well. Some of us were wondering if you were even gaining, at first… But I've seen you just now. We've all seen you, and… Brad, you're such a PIG!"

In any other context, Brad would have taken it as an insult and knocked the guy down. But coming from Josh here, whose purpose in life was most probably to be reincarnated as a Shropshire prized hog, it was obviously a compliment. And for some reason Brad felt proud about it. He was feeling good – a little too good, maybe… It was almost like… was Josh coming on to him?

"Hey, you've put on a… cute hot tummy yourself there, Josh."

"Thanks, you're nice. But I'm not big enough… Not enough for Tony Fillmore, anyway."

"So that's why… you…?"

"Mike told me. It's not official, but he really is the one who decides when we can go."

"…Mike, huh? You think he will… tell me someday? if I can go?"

"You, Brad?" Josh was almost laughing "You should have seen his face when he was patting your full gut! Mike's all over you. He'll introduce you to Tony in no time…"

Now this was interesting. Brad was just right about this being the way to get to Tony Fillmore – and, predictable as it was, it required him fattening up some more. Brad was ready for it before, but now that he had tasted it here, for real, he was more than happy to take that path! Gratefully, he played with Josh a little, encouraged him and slowly caressed his bulge, making Josh moan softly.

"You're right, Brad… I should be more determined. I should go see Mike about that too. Make a strong statement and go for it, really! Like you did…"

Brad didn't know what Josh was talking about – but he was getting used to not understanding what the boys where talking about in the Diner. Josh finished his beer – and he didn't hold his booze quite well. He mumbled something and went to sleep almost immediately. Mike was coming near them.

"Enjoying your nap, Brad boy? What were you girls talking about?"

"Oh, just chit chat… Josh was just telling me about Leigh Fillmore."

"Leigh? You mean… Leigh? What did he say?"

"Just that… he used to work here, like a few months ago."

"Oh? Yeah, right. He worked at the Factory for a while. But he's not here with us any more!"

"Why so?…"

"Guess he wasn't comfortable there…" said one of the guys, following Mike.

"Yeah, I mean: Heir of the Fillmore fortune? Thought he was a little too thin for the part!"

"Well, not any more!"

And all the guys laughed. Brad was shocked. They all knew? They were ALL part of this? Even if they hadn't kidnapped the boy themselves, they had something to do about it… Brad couldn't believe this: He thought he was starting to know them, and he liked them as they were, just as he saw them now. But there was no doubt about it… They were taking advantage of the company, and they would kidnap a kid and ask for MONEY? Brad was feeling awful – it couldn't be! – it didn't feel right – there was something behind the ransom. Something bigger – like them. Did they want to take over the Factory? Mike and his boys were surrounding him just now… For a second, Brad felt like they were going to beat the crap out of him, if they had guessed his thoughts. But Mike invited Brad to sit back, just as before.

"Time for more, Brad… We're going to stuff you and push you further than you even dared to imagine."

"Oh? Well… Good."

"Nervous, Brad? Don't worry, we'll keep it gentle…"

"Okay."

"…As long as you eat like a pig. Now boys, ready?"

The boys weren't ready for it: They were meant for the job! Each boy looked very impatient to feed Brad again. Josh was right: he had been the subject of many discussions, raising questions, doubts, expectations, and now satisfaction – possibly more… Brad was willing to go further, even if it was only to make a good impression on them. He had mixed feelings about it again, but they were both new feelings: it was just as dangerous as it was turning him on… and that was the hottest combination Brad knew! As a matter of fact, it was the reason why he had accepted to become a Private Eye in the first place…

His eyes still opened, Brad considered the situation: there were seven boys around him. Mike was only here to coach them and rub Brad's gut as it would grow more and get hard under his touch from all the food. First boy had a large bowl of creamy mashed potatoes and a large spoon. Second boy was holding his first slice of meat pie. Third boy had a large bowl of French fries. Fourth boy had a bowl of the same size with the onion rings. Fifth boy had a big bucket of fried chicken wings in Texas sauce. Sixth boy was taking a large burger specially made for Brad, from a tray next to him. Seventh boy carried a pitcher of what looked to Brad like some chocolate milk-shake. This promised to be a challenge. Brad closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

As he was eating his first mouthfuls, Brad realised he had secretly waited for this for hours – trying to think about the case just to distract himself from the thought of his next feeding, and the wait, and that weird feeling that was a lot like hunger, where Brad had already eaten more than in a normal… week! And just to make it irresistible, Brad kept repeating to himself that he was in a dangerous position – so dangerous – this was all very dangerous… And it made him groan for more! Food was being pushed more insistently than in the morning: a large full spoon of mashed potatoes here, a generous handful of fries or onion rings there, an entire slice of pie down his throat, a whole fried chicken nugget at once, and an extra-large bite of burger forced into his mouth, and creamy chocolate shake almost overflowing as he had to chug it down… They were showing no mercy, but Brad didn't complain: he loved that his feeding was handled in a manly way, matching the impression of "danger" he found so appealing right now. Mike was also encouraging him in words and gestures – and Brad was like putty in his hands – like, literally, in fact: his belly had reached his previous girth and roundness pretty quick. Being stuffed so much more, it was exploring uncharted territory… Mike and the boys kept feeding him, almost speechless, except for a few encouraging words now and then, as Brad was ballooning so much!

This went on for a few hours too. The feeding started to slow down. Mike was being more careful and considerate to Brad, asking him how he was feeling, and allowing the next bite only after a while, when he was sure his boy could take it. Brad was always ready for more, but his body still had limitations that they had to respect. Besides, they were all amazed at his belly's girth and softness… Eventually, Mike told the boys to stop. Brad was so full and overfed he could barely stand up.

The boys helped him to get back to his place. Mike couldn't get his hands off of Brad's naked, round and greasy gut. His new "favorite boy" was spread on the bed, where the Boys rubbed his belly for a while to ease the tension inside, then they left one after the other. Mike was the last one to leave.

"See you in the morning, Big boy. Sleep tight – and get ready to be stuffed tighter tomorrow…"

The bloated whale of a boy only belched to that. Brad was too heavy and lazy to move – let alone get up from his bed… He was also quite drunk. He could barely think straight, so he slept on it. Mike found him sleeping on his back in the morning, as they had left him. Three of the strongest boys also helped Brad wake up – unless they were forcing him to follow Mike to his feeding chair at the Diner Club…

"You look hungry, Brad. Let's make you hungry for more!"

Mike wasn't kidding about it: Brad couldn't have been forcefed more if he had been a prisoner under torture! It wasn't a part of being a "spy" or a "private eye" that Brad had signed for – he didn't give up, at least! In the afternoon – after Brad's third long, overeating session – his gym buddies joined him, lead him into the weight room and had him sweat and pump as much as he could on the machines. They encouraged him as he pressed or pulled, comforting him during his pauses – with some comfort food, of course! They had very specific instructions from Mike to feed Brad banana cream pies and doughnuts, force him if necessary, and have him wash it all with pitchers and pitchers of gainer shake. Brad was impressed at his own progress: He could almost bench press twice his bodyweight, for instance. His pecs were also noticeable under the layer of flab. The boys were amazed by his strength but they always had the upper hand on him: He would do as he was told, like a good "Boy". 

Brad wasn't unhappy – on the contrary! He was feeling increasingly confident in his coworkers and himself now – he was eager to lift more, push further… and needless to say, eat a lot more! Some of the other regulars were in awe, looking at this handful of plump, beefy boys coaching and feeding that dude as if they wanted to make him huge… Even for the cocky, regular gym members, it was more than they could handle to witness! Actually, Brad could still be mistaken for a power lifter, so that was no problem – and he was all too massive and intimidating for them to make any comment.

It was hard to believe that Brad had changed so much – his beliefs, to start with – in just a week… It only took another day at the Club, where Josh and a few other boys helped Mike rub and massage his swollen belly – another good night sleep to take in all the fattening calories – and Brad could look at himself in the mirror again, on Saturday morning, beaming with pride. His waist was larger than he would have even thought possible for him: 44" according to Mike… Brad was getting aroused just by patting his belly flesh – and the scale said 288lbs…

He remembered Mike telling him "You're the best Boy we've ever seen…" on their way back from the Diner Club. "And that's saying something. Congratulations!"

"Err, thanks…" was all he could mumble, before letting out a pretty long belch.

"So you just rest, Brad. Sleep… Take your monday off, maybe. I'll make that drive on my own, if that's okay with you."

"Okay… Buuuuuurp! – Oooof…"

"By the way, you've been such a good boy lately that I have told Tony about you... I understand now why you wanted to meet him so much – and I'm sure he will be interested in seeing you too!"

Brad couldn't help a smile, as he was sleeping: He had won! It had come with quite a price – but he was finally getting there… He'd have to wait for some time after Mike was gone to try and get up, go the bathroom. It was so difficult for him when he was this full – his belly was hurting like Hell! Brad had felt nothing but pleasure as he was being fed, but this was different. He realised how you have to pay for all your good things – and that the best ones must have the bitchiest after-effects… Strangely enough, Brad didn't feel sick… just full. Extremely full! Maybe there was a better word to express how it felt? but he couldn't find any. "Ready to burst" wasn't explicit enough. Besides, Brad was feeling just like he was exploding – except that it was happening in slow motion. His belly was exploding right now, but it was taking its time: hurting at the core, under such tremendous pressure, then expanding on the outside, in larger and larger circles. Yes, that was it – expanding. Brad could tell his gut was swelling, and it was expanding, just as he was thinking about it. His body was turning all that food into layers upon layers of fat and flesh – Brad was getting fatter…

There was nothing he could do about it. His belly was stuffed so tight everyday that he would certainly wake up weighing 10 more pounds on the next day. It was too late for him to go back. It was too late to resist Mike and his "Boys" at the Club. Brad yawned. It was time to call Andy.

"Hey Andy."

"Brad? Is that you?"

"Of course it's me… I told you I would call."

"So you did. What's up for you in Gainesville?" 

"Gaining, Andy. Gaining of course…" Brad gave his bloated gut a rub in small circles, almost lovingly. 

"How about the case?"

"Good news, Mr. Straight-to-the-point: I'm getting there."

"You are…"

"Yeah, slowly you know – but I'm positive. I'm getting close." 

"Music to my ears, Brad… I honestly thought you were getting closer to being fired. And take me down with you."

"What? – what made you think I'd quit?"

"Well, to start with, I could hardly wait for your call. Why didn't you call me earlier if everything's fine?"

"I was, err… working today."

"What do you mean, today? You said you'd call me at once, and it's been a whole week now!"

"A week? Wow, I didn't even notice – except…"

Brad gave a look down to his stomach and belly – so round, so plump right now, stuffed as he was… He had spent the whole week eating and being stuffed, being encouraged, being teased and plumped up, concentrating only on the food or his work-out routine at the gym. Even then, he had been totally passive – and it seemed to him that everything had gone too fast... There was more to come – Mike kept telling him. Brad was impatient for his next feeding. There had to be more to come… Grabbing a comfortable handful of belly at its chunkiest, next to his bellybutton, Brad couldn't take his eyes off that buttery, soft flesh. It was tantalizing. 

"…Brad?" Andy woke him up.

"Sorry, I was… concentrating on the case."

"That would have been my guess – at first. I know you're task oriented and all, Brad. But let's face it, you've always been a little slow on the intake. You've always asked for my advice, and I was worried that I may have put you on the wrong tracks."

"Oh no, Andy. Just the opposite. You were… right on money."

"So all these guys really are gainers?"

"They are."

"Okay, good… So, how have you been handling it so far? You were telling me you're getting close to finding Leigh, so I guess they didn't totally give you the cold shoulder…"

"Why would they do that? We're getting along just great!"

"Brad? Does that mean that… you?"

"Yeah, Andy. I'm one of them now. I'm a gainer."

"…You must be kidding me!!!"

"What's wrong, Andy?"

"What's wrong with you?! You were supposed to tell them it was a mistake from Human Ressources,  to begin with… God, Brad! I can't believe that you've been going on with this gaining thing! You were always complaining about them."

"About not getting them! Thanks to you, I got to know those guys."

"And that wasn't enough information for you?"

"Well… I couldn't help it, Andy! What else could I do? It was too late!"

"I'm afraid it was. Then let me ask you a question. Have you gained a lot of weight?"

"I don't know exactly…"

"How much do you weigh, Brad?"

"About… 290lbs, more or less."

"290 pounds? Talk about damage control there… It was time we talked about this. God! where is the famished, lanky stud I've met three years ago? No wonder your voice sounded deeper, Brad. You had to weigh less than 200lbs back then…"

"I think I was under 190lbs, Andy. I know I've put on a lot of weight, but I'm also stronger. I work out with a few of them. I'm… really strong."

"So you're telling me you've gained fifty pounds of muscles?"

"Not exactly… I'm… also a lot fatter, of course."

"Do these guys follow your weight gain? your progress?"

"Almost daily. Well… Mike does, at least. But he tells them, I'm sure."

"What's your pants size? Or if he measures your waist and belly…"

"I think I'm up to 44 inches."

"Fourty-four?! Did you say fourty-four inches?…"

"Yes, Andy. Why are you so worked up?"

"I just logged in on a Diet Website, Brad… Do you realize that your body fat is – over 25 percent?"

"…Really?" Brad almost sounded proud.

"It says so on my computer! And according to your BMI, you're obese!"

"Obese? Wow… Huh, what's a BMI?"

"Body Mass Index, of course."

"It doesn't go without saying… What is it, exactly?"

"I don't know. Some stupid calculation, I guess – like the ones they use for Insurance companies."

"So it's nothing but crap?"

"Don't change the subject! Your BMI is worse than Thirty-something! Then it's true I've never really cared for that show. But you're in big trouble…"

"Because it means I'm getting obese?"

"You're past class I obesity, Brad… and you're only half-way through the case! At this rate…"

"Don't worry, Andy. I'm sure it won't take me long to get there."

"Get where?"

It was a good question, actually. Brad had been reassuring Andy that he was about to find and rescue young Leigh from whoever was holding him hostage… but it was easier said than done – and his mind was almost entirely focused on getting obese now – massively obese! – as soon as possible…

Brad woke up so late on monday that he didn't even care about the hour. Mike had given him the day off? – Good. That guy really knew what he was talking about… So, his overfed boy got up slowly, and carefully walked to the bathroom. After being called "obese" by Andy, his only non-gaining friend, Brad had treated himself with huge meals of the most delicious food followed by long naps on the couch. He rubbed his eyes for a minute. There was enough daylight already, and in the mirror he looked quite changed – for the better: after two more days of gorging and sleeping, two days of pure gluttony and laziness, Brad could do some serious damage control. He didn't rely on any number, but his face definitely looked rounder, with a thicker neck and fuller cheeks… His belly had grown the most, of course, curving out proudly above his underwear, then drooping a little forward, round and soft, empty as it was… Brad shook his bulge a little and watched the fat jiggling – thinking his belly would be bulging even further, and drooping lower and lower as he would get fatter – and fatter. His butt was growing almost as much as his gut. Brad looked up again. His whole body looked much more massive and impressive – his thighs and arms getting plump, and his deep pecs sagging a little bit. There were strong muscles under the buttery skin, and – the bell rang, all of a sudden.

"Hey Brad! It's me… Mike. You here?"

"Mike? Come in."

"How are you doing, Brad boy? Just got up?"

Mike was looking at Brad approvingly, and gave him a gentle belly pat.

"What are you… Why…"

"Just came to check some things out with you…" Mike said, as he was taking off his coat. "Looks like you're making some fine progress here!" He couldn't take his hands off of Brad's gut for long. "This is all good… Very encouraging. You've slept well?"

"Huh… Yeah, just fine."

"You have a scale, right?"

"In the bathroom."

"Care to show me?"

"Okay…"

Brad hadn't even thought about weighing himself. Mike followed him in the bathroom, still caressing his gut in looks. He spotted the paper where Brad had recorded his latest stats. 

"Nice, Brad. You've gained too little for too long… But it's good to know that you were already up to 288lbs, when I left you. Good God, that's way too slow for my taste! Gaining alone just isn't for you, Brad boy… Now, on the scale!"

Brad obbeyed at once and stepped on the scale. Mike read: 296lbs – Brad wasn't sure it if was too little or too much, by now… But Mike was obviously happy with his boy's growth.

"And you're getting bigger too. Check this out: 46 inches!"

"Oh God…"

"You like that, don't you?" Mike whispered into Brad's ear, his hands pressing into the bulges of fat, at his boy's sides, leaving the tape measure on the floor – just then, Brad realised it wasn't Mike who had told him in such a sensuous way that he was hot when bloated… – Who was that boy, then? 

"You want more, I'm sure. I can tell…"

Brad didn't know what to say, but his stomach growled hungrily in response. Mike chuckled, facing Brad now: this was just what he wanted to hear…

"Yes! You're getting fat, Brad…" he whispered under his breath. "You have put on more than sixty pounds since I first saw you. And I'll make sure that you push three hundred hefty ones soon… Don't worry, Big Boy, you're going to love every new pound… And if you let me feed you fatter and fatter, I'll leave you barely able to waddle around…" he almost panted. 

Mike was all over him, now. Brad couldn't find his words.

"I've always had a hunch that you were only intimidated by us, and your new job. I knew it, you have super size potential. You're my favourite boy, Brad…"

That was it. Brad was going for it – all the way!

"Yes… I want you to make me really fat, Mike." he said, blushing and smiling at the same time. "You're right, I'm tired of gaining on my own. I want you to feed me. You and the boys…" and he was grasping his big belly firmly at the sides and shaking it up and down. 

"Nice, Brad boy! We will feed you more than a prized hog…"

"Oh yes, please… I'm getting fat and lazy now – thanks to you, Mike. I want you to help me get even lazier, and fatter…" Brad slapped his belly lightly and they watched the fat jiggle in a perfect way. 

Mike couldn't be any more turned on than he was now – on the other hand, Brad enjoyed that power he had over him. It wouldn't be long and Mike would tell him anything he wanted – do everything he wanted… But Mike stepped back a little. 

"Wow, Brad! Honestly…" He hesitated. "If I wasn't in a very serious relationship with…"

"What, Mike?…"

"I will turn you into a huge porker, Brad…"

"Make me!" 

"You will be our masterpiece, Brad. The fattest blimp this town has ever seen… And you should know, I've talked about you with Tony already."

"What did he say?"

"He wants to see you, next Saturday… if you're ready, that is."

"I am ready, Mike!"

"Come on!" Mike laughed. "You're not ready yet… but you will be, I'm sure. I suggest we feed you tomorrow and Friday just as well as we did yesterday… It shouldn't be too much. What do you say?"

"No such thing as "too much" for me now, Mike, is it?…"

Mike grinned to Brad, gave him a happy, manly hug. Then he took his coat. As he was leaving, he gave Brad a card – looking just like a business card – but with only phone numbers on it.

"Tony has been kind enough to allow you these already. You know this is an honour, Brad. It's a first, actually… because it's you. So, keep it for yourself, OK? But don't hesitate to use it. Don't hesitate to overuse it, in fact…I want you to be in round shape for Saturday. Oh, and don't worry about going to work until Saturday. I'll tell the boys, we'll just drop by for you. See you, Brad…"

Things were finally getting clearer. Brad looked at the numbers – this was a big step for him! He was right about uncle Tony having his own agenda, and organisation… But it wasn't all clear: the numbers were only referenced as "morning", "noon", "afternoon" and "evening". Brad couldn't make head or tail of such poor information. Mike had told him to use it? – it was just 1 p.m. Brad called the "afternoon" number.

"Fillmore Inc. Special Afternoon Services?"

"Hi… This is Brad Inge?" Brad asked.

"We're on our way, Brad."

And that was all. Brad didn't quite get it. Except five minutes later, the bell was ringing again. Brad had only put on a shirt, opened and loose. He opened the door – there were two young boys wearing the Fillmore uniform and dark spectacles. They both looked like 20, both cute in their own way – one with blond hair, blue eyes – the other one dark hair, brown eyes…

"Brad Inge, right?"

"It's me." 

"That was an easy question…"

They came in and opened the fridge. It had been supplied full the evening before.

"Looks like we have a lot to cover… You should take off the shirt."

"Who are you, anyway?"

"Fillmore Special Afternoon Services."

"You're like… feeders?"

"Like "Feeders 'r Us", Brad. I'm Dickie, and my friend there in the kitchen is Tom. He's a good cook, but you'll find out by yourself soon enough. OK now, I understand it's the first time you called. Just relax and let us fill that hot gut of yours – don't worry, you're in good hands."

"OK…"

Brad was curious to see how these two boys – actual boys – were going to feed him. He remembered how hard it had been for him to eat and eat until the fridge was empty… It was already better to just sit back and let the blond one at his knees rub and caress his soft belly. The other boy was coming near him with the first box, and started to shove doughnut after doughnut in Brad's opened mouth.

"Now… eat!"

"You should know, Brad…" Dickie said "Since we first saw you at the Club, Tom has only been talking about you. Feeding you, fattening you up…"

"Shut up, Dickie. Don't listen to him, Brad. Open wider…"

"I've never seen him like this before, I tell you. Tom has a huge crush on you, Brad." 

"I thought that was you, Dick…"

Dickie's voice got lower here, and just as caressing as his touch. Brad found it amusing to have these two hunky boys feeding him and bitching like that – but it was arousing as hell!

"And you know what Tom does to the guys he's so attracted to?… He adds butter and heavy cream to everything he feeds them. He's known as "the Fattener" in town."

"Right, like they don't call you "Sucker", Dick!…" 

"Hey, you know what? Grow that belly some more, Brad, and I'll show you what I do to the fat boys I have a crush on… Eat, Brad!"

"Here's more pie. Now, more… Drink…"

Brad had never been so turned on. Dickie never stopped rubbing his gut, stimulating the creamy flow of chocolate shake, pies and doughnuts into Brad's stomach. But his hands were going different ways now. Dickie's left hand was around his bellybutton – his right hand was getting lower and lower, going to Brad's hot, hard erect cock… This made Brad lose track of everything else – he ate in faster and larger bites, much to Tom's satisfaction.

"Good, Brad! More doughnuts for you, now…"

"You like that, Brad boy? Your belly's swelling so well… Go on like this and Tom will put even more butter in your food – it will just slide down your throat, bloat your intestines like a wet sponge…"

"Will you stop about that? It's not true, Brad… I swear!"

Brad let out a comfortable, long belch. Then he gave the boy a look that you couldn't resist.

"It's OK, Tom. Butter me up…"

No matter how good they were at being tough and studly, the two blushed and looked at each other. They were so hot for Brad now! Dickie was just caressing the round, filling curves of Brad's sides and belly. Tom poured more shake down his throat…

"I… Huh… All right, I'll put more in your next pies, Brad. As you like it…"

"Gotta say, Brad. You're the most gorgeous corn muffin we've ever got to feed and service."

"Now, that's true!"

"You've grown from beefy to porky so fast, so well… so much!"

"Also true. Here's some more ice cream, Brad. My special own recipe…"

"Right, Brad boy… You eat and drink just what we feed you, and we'll grow that young gut of yours into a mountain of flesh and blubber…"

"Soon to be true. More, now… Eat more!"

"You're my Everest, Brad…"

And all of a sudden, Dickie cut through the elastic waistband of Brad's underwear, letting his full belly rest heavily in his lap. After a few good belly rubs to make Brad more comfortable, Dickie started to lick at the tip of Brad's cock – sending him into a new circle of Heaven, drowning in sex and gluttony…

"Now, Tom! Don't stop. You stuff him like a goose!"

Dickie grabbed the fat expanse on Brad's belly to expose his erect cock better, then began to suck and lick its length, pumping it at times, playing with Brad in expert, frustrating, arousing moves. At the other end, Tom was filling Brad's mouth forcefully with the last doughnuts, more slices of fattening pies and now pancakes – different tastes of jam, maple syrup, chocolate syrup…

"Don't move, Brad…" said Tom. "Let's treat you like you deserve."

Hours went by – more food was going down – Brad was so full he thought he was going crazy with so much pleasure… or was it frustration, again? Dickie gave the best blow jobs, but he prolonged them so much, to keep Brad horny, fully erect and eating like a swine – he was in agony! Brad wanted more – he wanted to fuck that boy! – both of them… He wanted Tom to stuff him like a sausage!

Then Tom mumbled something to Dickie – and the boy sucked him a lot harder, all of a sudden. Deep throating him for good! Brad came into his hot, wet mouth – breathing loudly, eyes shut, his heart beating all too fast… At the same time, Tom forced a whole pitcher of shake on him all at once. It was by far the hottest orgasm Brad had ever experienced! He could only sit there exhausted, looking down at his over-inflated gut, and feeling like every bit of strength had been drained out of his body. Dickie looked also dizzy and fresh out… Tom was certainly tired too: There was absolutely no food left! He leaned to Brad's cheek and gave him a gentle, sensuous kiss.

"You're so hot, Brad…"

It came back to Brad in a rush – it wasn't Tom either, at the Club… Brad liked what he heard here, but he remembered a much more whispering, much hotter, horny voice. God! Brad swore to himself he would find out which boy it was!…

"Now…" Dickie finally broke the silence. "You're all good and stuffed, Brad. But if you're game, Tom has one last surprise for you…"

"…Surprise?"

"I've made my special gainer cheesecake. Just for you…"

"Wow, that's… very nice! Really, that's" – then the boys revealed the cake and Brad realised he was in trouble again. It was a monument of cheese cream and butter crust. It had to be more than five inches high, and so large it looked more like a podium than a cake. "That's… big."

"Right, Brad! A big cake for our favourite big guy." 

They were both smiling, both drooling over him. Four hands lightly caressing his full, plump, sweaty gut… How could he turn them down now?

"I don't know, really… Maybe for breakfast?"

"No, you're having your Big Breakfast at the Club tomorrow. And it won't taste as good…"

"Please, Brad… Just a slice? For me?"

They were too sweet and teasing to resist – Brad thought they had to be the best in town! 

"All right then, Just a few... slices…"

"Good!"

"Let's FEED that delicious boy."

Eventually, Tom and Dickie fed Brad the whole cheesecake, taking their time, caressing his gut and encouraging him all along. Then they helped him to get up, go in the bedroom and lie down naked on his king-sized bed, which creaked under Brad's weight. It had been almost twelve hours and they left him rest – so stuffed, so tired and horny it made him smile – and Brad dreamt the sweetest dreams.

As promised, Brad was woken up by Josh and brought back into the Club for another day of gorging. The boys were delighted to see how much his gut had expanded and plumped up – they were eager to feed him even more. Besides, Brad was at his laziest ever. His only physical efforts were in his jaws – eating, munching, swallowing, gulping down, drinking – more than ever. In another booth next to his, Josh was being fed just like him, seven boys shovelling food into his mouth. And there was a third booth a little further away, in the darker part of the club. It seemed to Brad that there were more boys feeding this one – lucky bastard! Brad kept his eyes opened, this time: if he heard that hot voice again, he would know… Somehow, he couldn't decide over which boy it had been, before…

Mike also came in and woke up Brad, just the same as before. He was interested in Brad's progress.

"Tom and Dickie have told me about you – or rather, they've told everyone about you. Like seventeen times! And the word "mouthful" is recurrent in both accounts… They're totally crazy about. I've never seen them like that… but not today, Brad. Is that OK?"

"I'm still so stuffed from yesterday, I'm not sure I could take it…"

"Sure you would. You've grown all large and blubbery…" Mike grabbed thick handfuls of Brad's fat from his lovehandles. "I would just like to know if you've grown enough for Tony."

"Huh, OK… Let's see."

Brad took off his bathrobe, and obediently stepped on the scale. Mike hardly took his eyes off of the fully grown and bulging belly Brad sported now, to read his boy's weight: 312lbs – Brad wouldn't even believe he could put on almost 20 pounds in little more than three days – he looked so huge and out of shape, in the mirror, in spite of his thick shoulders, arms and thighs… His pecs had grown soft and smooth, they were round fleshy pads topped by two large hard nipples, sagging a little over his large belly. There was some good, powerful muscle mass under the lard, except Brad couldn't help thinking there was so much lard all over!…

"Hmmmm… Look at you, Big Boy," Mike pondered, shaking Brad's flabby love handles in his hand. "You're not quite fat enough… But you're getting close! Your waist is an even 48 inches now. With tomorrow's feeding, you will finally weigh your weight, and Tony will be satisfied with you. Hell! He'll be proud of you – proud of us all… You've grown so well, Brad…"

"Yeah… I would… I'd like to work out today, you know? I'll be just hungry and ready for tomorrow."

"By all means, work out this body as you like. Want me to call your gym buddies? They'll be so glad to have you join them… But as you're pumping iron with them, I'll make sure they pump you with enough food to push you way over 320 by tomorrow morning!"

A few days went on – and on. Brad was being fed increasing amounts of fattening foods. Most of the time, his mouth was so full that his mind was completely empty. Brad was still sharp enough to gather some information on the inner organisation of their business, from time to time. He was also holding his beer and alcohol better – thanks to his increasing bodyfat. By the end of the week, only spent in partying, bingeing and gorging, it was time for Brad to get some well-deserved rest before he'd meet Tony Fillmore. Mike was always very encouraging, whispering to him like a mother would sing a lullaby to her baby, that he was doing really well – really, really well... 

It was no small compliment, coming from Mike – but it was also totally earned by his "Big Boy", who was finally weighed in at an amazing 340lbs! He was actually 10 pounds over the "minimum weight" requested by Tony Fillmore to be admitted into his mansion! It was just fine.

Mike had told Brad to rest for the day and wait for him to drop by with the right clothes for the evening at Tony's place. All this was music to his ears: Brad was close – he could feel it! – Leigh was most certainly kept in that place, somewhere. He was so excited about it. He had to calm down… He went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and started to eat.

Mike came in after a while, with a large suit for his big boy. He was ready to call him "Big Brad", now. It was a long shot from "Baby Brad"… Still eating, Brad had come to the door with what was left of his last pie in his hand.

"Hey there, Brad boy! Wow, you're pretty confident about yourself…"

"How's that?"

"You're invited for an evening at Tony's, and I find you already eating?"

"I was hungry…"

"That's my boy! Really, that's what I like the most about you, Brad: you never pull the punches. You work hard, you drink straight from the bottle of Jack's, you work out those muscles like a professional bodybuilder – and you eat… My! you eat like the porkiest pig I've ever seen…"

He gave his pig a more than insistent belly pat, then looked at the suit he had brought.

"I hope it will still fit you. You know what? you can outgrow these pants a little right now. We know you won't fit into them after tonight anyway!" And he laughed big, taking one last slice of pie. "Here, let me help you finish this – open up…"

 (to be continued...)