Unnoticed Growth - Part 3 & Epilogue

By Senior year, my porker of a partner was right around 640lbs. He’d done nothing but grow under my affectionate, food laden hands and Grandma Josie’s feeder tendencies had certainly helped. He’d packed on the last 40 or so of his gain during break and now as we entered our last year of college, he had food in his mouth at nearly every moment of the day. We’d abandoned dividing it into meals and instead I just kept his custom lap table overburdened with fattening foods at all times. I could tell it wouldn’t be long before I had to have a new system ready though, as his quickly expanding gut was already starting to touch and then fold over the edge.

I’d had to hire a fat friendly tutor to talk him through his course work and do any physical aspects for him. After all, he couldn’t waste time with a pencil in his hand when his fingers were doing the much more useful work of holding greasy foods or habitually reaching out to grasp at and jiggle his mountainous form. For the same reason, he couldn’t use a laptop anymore, partially because it wasted time that could be used for gluttony and partially because he didn’t want to get food all over his computer.

Once a month, I special ordered him a huge pair of pants and shirt at a size that was big enough to last him until the next month. He only needed one set for emergencies, because the majority of the time, it was just too much trouble to clothe him and instead I draped and tucked in bedsheets around his huge frame. Besides, I was nearing the largest sizes available anywhere, and it wasn’t like he’d be leaving the house much more anyway. Already the queen size were starting to leave too much skin uncovered to be decent. I’d have to start implementing the king sheets I’d purchased, and after that, I’d probably start sewing the queens together. At least his giant, sloppy belly that hung over the edge of his knees kept his crotch covered at all times. He was growing so quickly now you could see a difference in size at practically a daily rate, each week I had to make more food to satisfy him. I had stopped counting his calories when he hit over 30,000 in one day and that had been some time ago, so there was no doubt in my mind that he was eating enough to feed a whole classroom at this point. I couldn’t be more proud and elated as I watched literal pounds of jiggling flesh added to his gluttonous form when we awoke each morning. The last time he managed to stand long enough on our industrial scale to get his weight was halfway through the year, and when the number stopped and flashed 723, I couldn’t hide my arousal. The moment I got the sweating and panting ball of lard to his bed, I climbed on him and we began enjoying the fruits of our labor, knowing he’d not be getting up at all for much longer just excited us that much more.

Epilogue

After graduation, which big surprise, he didn’t walk for, Alec didn’t use the couch anymore. At the last, he was so large that he filled it from end to end and his foot thick love handles draped on the arm rests. Our concern that we’d finally hit a point where we’d be unable to move him from the spot, plus the dangerous creaking it had let out the last time he had flopped onto it, lead us to retire his ultra wide ass to his reinforced steel bed. Luckily I had seen this day coming and like a good caretaker for a XLSSBHM of his caliber, I had gotten an electric sling system installed. Usually used for disabled patients with mobility issues and weren’t graded for his amount of weight, but I’d special ordered this one. With the help of a couple of our feeder community friends and what little strength he could muster, we shifted his pendulous belly into the sling. Our friends each held up one of his pillowy, roll covered arms as we moved him up and began the arduous journey of a few yards. It turned out that when the several hundred pounds of lard his gut and arms contained were supported by something or someone else, Alec was actually able to get himself up and hobble to the bedroom, though it still took several pauses, painful gasps for air and a dozen cupcakes that I considerately shoved between his puffy lips when I could tell his energy was flagging. It was rather mind blowing to realize that even with the extra wide doorways I’d been sure to have before buying our house, my partner‘s form was so bloated, he filled and almost scraped against the frame. Finally when his immense weight collapsed in a sweaty mound on the bed and the waves of flesh finally stopped rolling, we exchanged a look full of pride, love and sexual tension at what we’d turned him into.

The mattress we originally retired my glutton to was a king, but by the end of our last year of college, his rippling, wobbling flesh lapped gently over both sides and would soon be hanging. As I started shopping online for giant custom beds and thinking over the logistics of using his mechanical sling to hold him up long enough for a mattress change, I couldn’t stop a contented smile from curving my lips. I still couldn’t believe sometimes, just how absolutely gigantic my little hog had become. Certainly it hadn’t been for any awards, but I did find myself pondering now and then about how long it would be before Alec broke the record for world’s fattest man… I had no method of weighing him anymore, but I’d gotten pretty good at estimating over the years of our relationship and if he wasn’t at least 1,000 pounds these days, I’d eat an Alec sized meal. I reached over to my boyfriend, placing a hand on his gargantuan paunch that now reached between his feet in the semi reclined position his thick rolls and cellulite covered, planet sized ass forced him into. I let my palm sink into the super soft flesh a bit, before giving it a hard shake and watching as, for the next minute or so, his entire body just became a mess of jiggling adipose. I could barely see the top half of his face over the summit of this record breaking gut, but I could tell when he smiled, his too-fat face scrunching to almost completely hide his eyes. The slab of meat he called a belly moved up and down with his labored breaths for a moment before his voice escaped, deeper and more rounded than in the past thanks to the amount of fat in his face and neck. I got just a single sentence, broken by a wheeze for air, “Hey, babe… I’m hungry.”