I woke to the smell of fried breakfast and made my way downstairs in just my boxers. I wouldn’t have normally, but after our conversation the previous night I felt like it was the right thing to do. And by the look on Joe’s face when I walked into the kitchen, I realised it was definitely the right thing to do. “There’s me boy! Have a seat and I’ll serve up”. It was the first time that I ended up with more on my plate than he did. But I ate it all and gave a massive belch after. “Now that’s how ter compliment the chef!” he bellowed with a big laugh. “Now, don’t be thinkin’ yer gettin’ outta yer regular duties now, just ‘cause I’m feedin’ ya. Git the kitchen clean, ‘n then I’ll have a list of chores outside fer ya.”
The tone he used with me that morning–it was different. He’d been fairly easy going so far, and had been happy with whatever work I’d done around those house. I don’t think he cared, to be honest, as long as everything ended up cleaner than it usually was. But in the kitchen, washing up, I felt his eyes on me from the doorway, and I felt…uncomfortable. He’d seen me in my boxers before, of course, but this was the first time I felt like he was really looking at me–or…enjoying looking at me.
Did he enjoy looking at me? I was afraid to ask. Had he noticed how much I’d enjoyed looking at him? He came up behind me and gave me a light slap on my ass, and I felt it jiggle. He chuckled. “Next time yer in town, buy yerself some briefs. They’ll be more comfortable.”
“I’ve always worn boxers though.”
“Yeah, but ya ain’t been close tah 250 pounds before. Tomorrow, when ya do the shoppin’, buy a pack of briefs–and a couple jockstraps.”
“I don’t like wearing jockstraps for sure.”
“Just do it.”
So the next day, on the rest of the shopping list, he’d added the two items there at the bottom, and I bought them. I wasn’t sure how to feel about him telling me what kind of underwear to buy, but honestly…I felt good doing it, and maybe a bit humiliated I suppose. Still, he was…firmer over the next few months, and as large as the meals were, the work never seemed to stop either. My routine was eating, working and sleeping. He decided it would be a good idea to keep a record of my growth, and I was surprised by how quickly I was growing. I now had a nice big round belly that hung down, hiding my belt, a big chest which was both muscle and fat and my arms were nearly twice the size of when I first started working for Joe. I hit 280, and kept going strong.
As fall came and the weather turned, there was less and less work to do outside, beyond raking leaves and getting the cabin ready for the winter. One afternoon, on one of my days off, Joe and I were sitting in the front room. He was playing his games and I was sitting there eating a stack of sandwiches with crisps and drinking beer he’d made, and told me to eat. I’d gotten into a habit of belching loudly as Joe never seemed to mind. In fact he seemed to enjoy it, and praised me whenever I let off an extra loud one. Still, after he’d started feeding me more, I’d found he was less and less interested in me playing games with him, and so I found myself just watching, and snacking–always snacking. Well, I’d pretend to be watching the game, but more often I was watching him sit there, stuffing his face with the snacks I’d bring him, drinking beer, smoking fags and cigars. I’d get so horny, actually, that I’d developed a bit of a…habit of sneaking off to the bathroom down the hall to jack off when I couldn’t stand it anymore, and then returning after flushing away the evidence.
“I gotta go take a piss,” I said.
I heaved myself up, but before I could take a step, Joe spoke, “Ya sure ya gotta piss? Ya don’t usually piss in there, ya know. Usually yer in there wackin’ off.”
I can’t imagine how red my face must have gotten, but I was so startled I couldn’t even deny it.
“Take off those pants and sit back down, boy.”
Boy–fuck, he’d called me boy. Did he know? He had to know at this point, if he knew about me jacking off. Still, I did as he said, and dropped my sweats and stepped out of them. I was wearing a pair of the briefs he’d made me buy, but they were tight at this point.
“That’s a good boy, wearing your whities like that. Now, if ya wanna jack off, ya can do it here. In fact, I wanna see it, so get to it.”
“I…Look, I, it was a mistake, I’m sorry.”
He looked over at me and smiled, “Nothin’ that’s happened here so far has been a mistake boy, trust me. I’m gettin’ what I want–I always do.”
He paused his game and hefted himself up, lumbered over in front of me. His belly, just hanging there, was so…huge, and a bit of drool fell out of my mouth as I stared at it, and then looked up. He ran a hand down my belly to my crotch, and groped me cock and balls with his big hand. “Plenty hard–yer ready. So do it boy. Shoot that load a yers intah those whities.”
I tried to protest again, but he grabbed my wrist, and forced my hand down to my crotch…and I gave in. He stood there, looming in front of me, stroking my belly and teasing my nipples, and in less than a minute, I exploded, the load filling the front of my briefs. I felt…awful. I felt humiliated. I was so turned on, that I didn’t know what I wanted, other than it to never stop.
Bracken's Corner 