Building the Wall, Part 2 (Patreon)

One month later, Michael was on his way back home after work. As he came up the sidewalk to their apartment, he saw a hunky pizza delivery man leaving the building and was fairly certain which apartment he had stopped at.

Less than a minute later, Michael entered his doorway and headed for the bedroom, where sure enough he found a completely naked Wally sitting up on the bed. The big man was stuffing two pieces of pepperoni pizza into his mouth from the box on his lap, and he had another box next to him. "How you doing, stud?" asked Michael.

Wally chewed vigorously, swallowed, and then answered, "Sorry, Michael. I was going to wait for you, but I was starving."

Michael smiled and took in the sight of his boyfriend; he wasn’t sure he was really going to enjoy Wally’s growth phase, but he got more and more turned on the bigger the man grew. Wally had gained about 50 pounds in the last month and most of that weight had gone to his stomach. It was big and soft and rippled like an old waterbed when he moved. There were still a few traces of the hot jock he had once been, most noticeably the muscles in his upper arms, but they were getting slathered over a little more each day with flab.

"No worries, Wall. I totally get it. An Adonis like you needs sustenance to keep up his strength," replied Michael.

"Exactly," agreed Wally. And then he stuffed two more pieces of pizza in his mouth. "So how much longer until the contest starts, and I can start working out again?"

Michael crawled up on the bed next to Wally, moved the pizza box, and started massaging his belly. "One more month, lover. Then you can start working out all you want, lose this little spare tire, and show all those other men who has the best metabolism and the strongest will power."

"Fuck yeah," replied Wally as he grabbed two more slices of pizza. "I can't wait to get my hands on that prize."

“Is this pizza gonna be enough for you tonight, baby?” asked Michael

“Hardly! This is pre-dinner. I still want to hit the buffet in about an hour.”

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Forty-five minute later, Wally had stuffed himself into a too-tight t-shirt (with his belly sticking out underneath the bottom hem) and khaki shorts, and the pair lumbered over to eat at the buffet down the block from where they lived. Back when he was getting ready for his bodybuilding shows, Wally would bemoan the lack of low-calorie, high-protein options at the restaurant, but now that he was bulking to the extreme, he was tearing into everything he could get his hands on. Michael was happy to spring up to fetch another hefty helping for his hoggish boyfriend, and when Wally slowed, Michael encouraged him to eat just a bit more.

“Come on, baby, get bigger for me,” he said. He lifted up Wally’s shirt, rubbed his engorged belly with his left hand, and rubbed his engorged cock with his right. Conflating sex and feeding had worked wonders on Wally, but Michael decided he needed to step things up a bit now that the contest started in one month. Wally was going to need motivation to get bigger at a more advanced rate.

"I need to tell you something, baby," said Michael as he continued his rubbing. He felt a little bad telling a lie, but figured it was OK since it was for a good cause.

"What's that?" asked Wally

"Well, I saw on Snapchat today that Chunk Stevens is also going to enter the same weight loss contest."

Wally stopped chewing. Chunk's real first name was Chuck, and he was the golden god of high school a few years back. He had been the top athlete in every sport and everybody assumed he would go pro after graduating, but instead he hooked up with a rich sugar daddy and decided to live a life of leisure. But once he stopped playing sports, Chuck quickly turned to Chunk and was eventually tossed out by his benefactor who didn't want a lardass lover. Chunk ended up with a sizable settlement and could still live comfortably, but just not as high on the hog as he used to.

"Chunk's going to enter. That guy's got a ton of flab he could lose," said Wally.

"Yeah, he's going to try to lose weight and rekindle his sports career. He apparently really wants this. If you want to win the contest, Wally, maybe we should step up the gaining so you have enough weight to lose."

"Damn," Wally exclaimed. "Chunk must be nearly 300 these days. He could lose 100 pounds and win hands down. I'm not fat enough."

Michael nodded sagely. "We've got to blow you up big time, Wall."

“I’m gonna finish this plate, and I want you to go get me two more filled with the most fattening foods you can find.”

Michael smiled and did as he was told.

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With the motivation of the contest and Michael's encouragement, Wally let go of any control or judgement. And he grew. And grew. And grew. He may have only gained 50 pounds the first month, but he added another 100 during the second, taking his weight from a solid 240 to a sloppy 390. By the first official day of the contest, every inch of his body was covered in flab, burying away the muscles that used to be so prominent.

Wally awoke late the day the contest started and shot a video with his cell phone getting on the scale. He sent the video to the contest officials as a part of the entry process, and he sent it to Michael who was away at an education conference.

Michael texted back several heart emojis, and then added: “You look so sexy at any weight, baby! I’m sorry I’m not there to cheer your weight loss on this week, but I’m sure you’re going to go beast mode in the gym and lose a ton.”

Wally smiled, and thought about getting in one last huge breakfast, and maybe a nap, before hitting the weights.

But a week later, Wally’s smile had been replaced with a frown. He was getting worried.

He thought back to when he first started lifting weights. He had become obsessed with getting huge after seeing the big guys on Instagram, and he practically started living in the gym. Wally may not have had the best routine or done everything correctly, but his remarkable willpower and consistency helped him with gains. No matter how busy, or tired, or sore he may have been, Wally was always up early and at the gym pumping iron. He never had any excuses for missing a workout.

This willpower extended to his diet, too. He left behind the junk food and sugary sodas that his friends always had and would only eat the meals he prepared each weekend. Pizza and burgers were replaced with grilled chicken and broccoli. Coke was replaced with protein shakes and gallons of water. Wally never made an exception, even when tempted, and his friends started referring to him by the nickname WP – not only because they were the initials for his first and middle name, Wallace Parker, but also for Will Power.

As a result of this determination, Wally had turned into a muscle monster and was given the nickname “Wall.” He loved getting noticed for his rock-hard physique, and those long glances from admirers (and occasional requests to feel his biceps from the more forward fans) only fueled him to work out more. It was especially evident when working out, like when he would be curling barbells loaded with weights that most people would do for a squat, and he could see the guys around him getting erections at his manly display. He felt like a fuckin' god when that would happen.

But now, the willpower that had come so easily to Wally in the past was...well, it was gone. He had tried over and over the last week to get into some sort of routine to lose weight, but he just kept putting it off. I'll start tomorrow, he'd say. And then the next day he be too tired. Or he’d find some sweets in the cupboard, and he would spend time snacking until it got too late to go. Or he couldn't find workout gear that would fit, so he would tell himself he'd go after buying some new shirts and shorts. So he pretty much lounged around most days, usually naked in bed and watching TV.

Instead of losing weight for the contest, Wally had gained another 20 pounds of flab, bringing his total to 410. And the problem was…he loved it! He loved eating with abandon, and not denying himself anything that he wanted. He loved feeling all squishy and soft, he loved how big his body had become, and he loved how Michael couldn’t get enough of sucking on and playing with his growing tits, ass, and love handles. Wally thought Michael had trouble keeping his hands to himself when he had been a bodybuilder, but Michael had become completely insatiable the bigger that he got – he wanted sex even more! And the attention made Wally incredibly horny – between sex with Michael and jacking off, he was having 8 to 10 orgasms a day.

Deep down, however, Wally knew he needed to get tough – the only way for him to become financially independent was to win the weight loss contest. Maybe after it was over and he had the $100,000 in his back account he could add the fat back on, but for now he was going to miraculously drop the weight and win the contest. Wally pictured himself muscular and lean again, wearing nothing but skimpy posing briefs and holding an oversized check for the prize amount in his sculpted arms.

"Damn straight I'm going to win," he said to himself, and to prove it, he decided to go for a run. "Well, maybe just a walk for now."

He got out of bed, which he had stayed in all day, and rolled this way and that way to get his huge body upright. The intense movement caused A LOT of jiggling to radiate across his mountainous body, almost like a wake in the lake when a speedboat goes by. Wally scrounged around for a shirt and some sweatpants (thankfully Michael had purchased him some XXXXL clothes last week which still fit), and then took about 15 minutes to get his shoes and socks on. He was so winded from that small activity that he thought about giving up, but then he remembered the vision of himself as a stud again, and so he soldiered on.

Wally grabbed his keys and left the apartment, and then walked down the interior hallway to the front of the building. He opened the main door, stepped out into the darkness, and shut it behind him...not noticing that he had caught some fabric from his pants between the door and the jamb. It was sometime around midnight, and with the porch light burnt out, it was difficult for Wally to see almost anything.

He took his first step using the leg that was caught and realized the problem too late. His other leg was not ready to catch his body, so Wally tumbled onto the cold cement steps in front of his apartment building.

"Fuck'" he screamed. Fortunately, his soft pillow-like body absorbed most of the shock and he wasn't really hurt, but he was lying upside down on a staircase could feel his flab shaking vigorously. Wally tugged on the pant leg caught in the door, but it was stuck tight...he pulled again and again and again, but it would not come out.

"If I could just sit up, I guess I could try to reach the door handle and open it up," he thought. So Wally reached forward with his arms and attempted to do an incline sit-up – something he had done thousands of when he was in shape – but not he couldn't even muster one now. All the strength and flexibility he used to possess had evaporated, and not he couldn't reach past his bulky waist.

Wally was about to scream "Fuck" again, but then realized he didn't want to wake all his neighbors up. He had to figure out a way to get free. He tried wiggling out of his sweatpants, but his foot was caught too high up for him to do so. Wally took off his shirt to see if he could wrap it around the banister post to help hoist himself up, but that didn't work...and to make matters worse, his sweaty hands caused him to lose his grip while pulling and the shirt fell onto the other side of the steps.

So there Wally lay....sweaty, shirtless, and helpless on the front steps of his apartment building, with nobody around to help.