We didn’t hear it at first–both of us were a bit busy eating. I think I was the first one, and I nudged Jay to go see who it was. It was his house, after all. Mostly I just wanted a chance to stuff my face on my own for a moment–I had to try and get every advantage, if I wanted to be as large as Jay, right? Jay, I think, was just hoping that whoever it was would just go away, but they just kept knocking, and finally he was aggravated by it that he went to the door to at least tell them to go away. I heard the door open, and Jay gave a strange cry–I left the food and went after him to see what the matter was.
I found Jay at the door with a strange man–a sexy man, don’t get me wrong, he was beautiful. At least as large as Jay was at this point, he was wearing a black t-shirt with the words “Fat Action Team” down the front. He was smoking a cigar and had a big beard all over his face–and he was showing Jay something on his phone. I recognized it immediately–Jay was in one of those trances, like I’d seen him in before we’d started training together–his eyes and mouth slack, arms hanging at his sides as best they could, since his fat rolls wouldn’t let them hang straight any longer.
I asked the man what was going on. He told me to not worry–that he was simply a representative of the Fat Action Team, and had come by in order to give us a preliminary examination, and to prepare us for the next stages in our training. Before I could ask him what he meant by that, however, he’d swung the phone around, and the prismatic spiral there simply…wiped away my awareness. I don’t know how long he was there with us, but I think it was a few days, at least. I…recall surfacing on occasion, but it wasn’t very often. It was always…he kept trying to…to force me to do something I didn’t want to do, and…and I’d fight him. I remember looking at him, like he was seeing just how hard I was willing to push, how much fight I had in me. I mean, I always gave in eventually, there wasn’t…there wasn’t anything I could do, not really, but I tried all the same.
When he left us there, neither of us knew what to think about what had just happened to us, and we were exhausted, like neither of us had slept in days. We immediately went to bed, and curled up together, just enjoying the sensation of our fat pressed together, of the bed sagging under our combined weight, and when we woke up the next morning, each of us discovered that FAT had sent us a new training file, and even though neither of us really wanted to, were were helpless as we loaded the files up, and gave them a listen.
I was out for a few hours. When the file finally ended, I remember I was no longer by the computer, but sitting in an armchair in the living room, smoking a cigar and jacking my cock as I did, savoring the smoke like I’d been doing it all my life. I…I told myself that I hated smokers, that I’d always hated them, but I now felt like that was just a lie. I needed smoke as much as I needed food–I’d never be able to get enough of it. Jay was nowhere to be seen–I got up and found him in the kitchen, stuffing his face, but where before he’d always had a look of supreme joy on his face while he was eating, now he seemed…terrified.
“Please, I can’t stop, I’m so hungry, I didn’t know I could be this hungry,” he said in between mouthfuls, “Help me…”
So I helped him. I stuffed food into his mouth as fast as I could, making him eat it, and…and fuck, it felt good, force feeding him like that. Being in control of him like that. It felt so good that I had to stop, shove him down onto his hands and knees and plow his hole, smoke billowing from my nose as I came deep in his fat ass with a growl, and then we kept stuffing him silly.
That…that was years ago now, though. After I completed that next training, FAT was more than happy to hire me on as a compliance agent. Now, it’s my job to go to FAT members who are resisting their programming, and I…encourage them for a while, to make sure they meet their goals of getting bigger. I’ve gotten bigger myself, of course–I just passed 500 pounds a while back, and FAT, to celebrate, has given me a free pass to one of their legendary retreats next month. I’d take Jay along with me, of course…but Jay can’t go anywhere.
I can’t believe how quickly he grew, after that training. Thankfully FAT agreed to supply us with food in exchange for filling the house with webcams, so people online could watch his progress–but he’s already 850 pounds, and isn’t showing any sign of stopping. He’s bedridden at this point, and I spend pretty much all day stuffing his face with food, making sure his enormous hunger is sated, and that he keeps on growing like a good pig. Still, after that tumble, when he broke his legs, FAT decided it would be better to just amputate–he’s bedridden for life, now, and he couldn’t be happier. I…I’m happy too, I think. At least, FAT tells me I’m just a bit stressed, and that this retreat will help me refocus on my real priorities. I…I don’t know what priorities they mean; they’re really vague sometimes. Still, FAT has given me all this, so I can trust them, right?
Bracken's Corner 