Requested by @coltenjohnandgabriel


Chef Michael Dover ran one of several restaurants at the resort, but his was by far the most popular. People who went there, almost always, said that while the atmosphere was iffy, and the service a bit slow, the food was always magical. It helped, of course, that the chef was a wizard–and if he made people a little addicted to his food, what was the harm, really? He was just helping the resort become one of the most popular destinations in Florida, despite it’s lackluster accommodations, and everything else about it. The one time he wished it was less popular was Spring Break–but he would ways to occupy his time. 

This year, it was Jeremy. He’d shown up at the resort early, and gotten some food at Michael’s restaurant, and had the gall to be rude to the waiter. So, as an olive branch, the chef had comped Jeremy a dessert–a huge slice of chocolate cake which, to quote Jeremy, was so good that he might have to break his no cake rule in the future. See, Jeremy was a jock–one of those ripped guys who thinks they’re better than everyone just because of how they look. He was in Florida to bang some chicks and catch some sun…but he also found himself unable to resist eating every meal at the Michael’s restaurant.

It was strange too. He always had a table reserved for him, even when there was a line out the door. He no longer ordered from a menu, the waiter would simply seat him, and then food would appear instantly, like magic, and he’d eat it all. The rest of his Spring Break was a bit of a flop. He did manage to catch some sun and swim in the pool, but every girl he hit on just seemed to laugh in his face, call him a pig, and walk off. He chalked it up to feminism, but Jeremy’s problem was that Michael had enchanted him to be unable to see the changes to his own body. Even now the week was ending, he was taking one last dip in the pool, surprised at how hard it was to haul himself up with the ladder, and on his way to one last dinner–or at least, he thought it would be his last one. Instead, he discovered he’d been chosen at random to receive another week at the resort, complementary of the restaurant, and he couldn’t have been happier–Michael too, was happy–he had so many more plans for his pig, that one week just hadn’t been enough time.

After all, he still had to make him gay, and crave cum as much as he needed food. That last dinner had aged Jeremy into his late thirties, but the chef had always had a soft spot for silver daddies, big beards, over five hundred pounds, and desperate to do anything you wanted them to do. And the big reveal, of course! He couldn’t want until he could show Jeremy the end product, at long last, shattering the illusion of his young hot body with his new reality. In fact, he had a feeling Michael probably wouldn’t be leaving the resort, even after this next week–no, he needed a new front of house, and a new personal pig slave, and by the end of the next week, Jeremy was going to be a perfect fit for both positions.

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