Jackson, part 8 - story by Sarav59 (Patreon)

Jackson, part 8

‘You look like a million bucks! It's been, what, two months since we started you on this bulking diet? Your body's responded so well!’

Finley could barely contain his excitement. Seeing Jackson standing with the aid of someone else, his folds of fat reaching toward the floor. What a sight, Finley thought. In less than six months Jackson's toned muscular body had been utterly transformed. His once powerful legs were now encased in rolls of fat. Months of inactivity had left them weak and docile. No trace of their former fit appearance remained.

‘Heh,’ Finley grinned. Very soon Jackson would be completely immobile. His thighs were pressed tightly together and moving one past the other required strenuous effort. Even if he could walk normally, Jackson's ass pulled him back while his belly pulled him forward, leaving him in a constant fight for balance. He was truly insulated, wrapped in all the millions of calories pumped into him day and night. Finley marveled at his creation. His revenge was nearly complete. He turned back to Jackson.

‘So how do you feel?’ 

Finley looked at Jackson’s expression, waiting for a response. His face was one of shear exhaustion. His head was bent down and eyes were nearly closed. He was taking shallow rapid breaths. Finley could plainly see him struggling to understand the situation. 

'Oh... Finley,’ Jackson muttered, ‘… can I please sit down..? And... I need something to eat…’ He was sweating from just speaking. 

Finley expected as much. Jackson had been heavily sedated for weeks, remaining motionless while the fat was packed onto his body. Finley smiled and made his move.

‘You should be proud,’ he said. ‘You've completed your bulking training, and quickly. But I understand, exercise can be exhausting. Alright, tell you what. I'll let you sit back down and prepare you dinner, on the condition that you win your race.’

Finley paused, watching Jackson lift his head; excitement was spreading across his bloated face. Finley continued. ‘Now here's the deal. If you can walk out the warehouse door over there - around 400 meters - without any assistance, then you'll have proven how athletic you truly are. You'll be free to do whatever you want. Leave... or stay. It's up to you.’ Finley grinned and crossed his arms against his chest. ‘But if you can’t make it, well, then I've failed as your trainer and I'm the type of person who doesn't like to fail. So, I'll have to stay on as your personal trainer permanently. What do you say?’

Jackson was shocked at what he’d just heard. He responded with the first thing that came to mind. ‘You... you mean I could sit down…?’

‘Of course, anything you want.’ Finley smiled as he watched Jackson struggle to think.

Jackson’s heart was racing. Finley’s words had sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system. He could escape, he could be free of this place!

It had been two months, according to Finley, since he had been hooked up to the new bed. Two! And for almost that entire time he had been lost in daydreams, unable to concentrate, trapped. 

All he wanted was to sit down and relax. His legs had never held such weight and the pain was immense. But it was the hunger that outweighed his pain. After being unhooked from the feeding tube his stomach had been gurgling angrily at the lack of food. It had been trained to expect a constant supply of high caloric shake. Every fiber of his being was telling him that he needed to sit down and eat. 

But he couldn't. His mind was dulled but he knew this could be his only chance. The old drive was still there, he could win. He always won. This would be no different. He could beat his rival. After all, he'd done it once before. Jackson steadied himself and looked up.

‘Finley... you bastard…,’ he said. ‘Fine. I'll agree to this race… I’ll win... When do I start…?’

‘It’s agreed then,’ Finley said. ‘Let's see what you can do.’