Hansel, Part 4 - Male Version (Patreon)

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Note: This is the male version of Gretel.

Summary: Connor is kidnapped then forced to eat exorbitant amounts of food. Contains: Male: weight gain, stuffing, belly expansion, breast expansion.

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His chest had gotten softer, and his bottom fuller, his body surrendering to his gluttonous lifestyle. But nothing compared to the expanse of his belly. It looked as though it contained an at-term child – only it was chunkier, fattier, and less firm. He had to clutch it to himself as he trudged about, usually flushed, sweaty, and breathing

heavily from constantly carrying the massive mound of compacted fat.

He huffed and puffed continuously. He was just getting so heavy, so lethargic. His belly was growing and growing, sticking out against his stretched, sweat-soaked top that could barely contain him anymore.

The mound overflowed his lap when he crossed his legs and was perched on the couch, his belly gurgling and trembling uncomfortably as he groaned and rubbed it. He watched as it heaved out and in, out and in. It was usually the moment that he eased himself down and felt vaguely relaxed that Edna stuck her head out of the kitchen and called Connor for his next meal.

It was an unending cycle and Connor was oblivious of how things were to end. His belly was already wider than he was.

He lowered his feet from the couch and took a few deep breaths. Red in the face, he clutched either side of the mound and rocked until he could heave himself up into a standing position, his back momentarily arched to keep himself balanced, then he groaned and hunched down, continuing to clutch his girth in his arms.

“Connor!” Edna repeated.

It was best not to keep Edna waiting. Connor trudged forward, panting and sweating. Edna already had Connor’s usual chair pulled out. Connor eased himself down, the sides of his belly digging into the arms of the chair. Edna pushed him in, causing Connor to grunt as his belly pressed against the edge of the table.

Despite Connor’s clear distress, Edna seemed quite pleased. Dinner was simple that evening. A massive pile of hotdogs. There were at least six dozen of them.

Connor did his best to chomp them down, slathering them in ketchup for the dryness. As he worked his way through the pile, he found some variety. Some of the hotdogs had chili on them. Others were slathered in melted cheese. His belly felt tighter and tighter with each bite, but it was just barely – tolerable. Connor dabbed his face with a napkin and released a small belch when he was finished with the pile. He had to push his seat some inches back because now the sensation of his belly pressing against the table was really quite uncomfortable, and his belly button was protruding like a golf ball. He breathed and rubbed the trembling mound.

Unsurprisingly, there was dessert. Edna hauled out a massive tub of chocolate chip cookie dough. It had to be at least five gallons large. Edna handed Connor a large spoon.

Connor didn’t hesitate. He got to work. The sooner he did this, the sooner it would be over. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

Connor gulped glob after glob of cookie dough down his throat, still lost to Edna’s overall agenda. The woman seemed only to want to fatten him up—but for what purpose? To make him suffer? Well, she’d done plenty of that. Connor had been transformed beyond his recognition.

Connor paused and grunted as his belly tightened and gurgled. He rubbed his sticky fingers over its expanse, smearing his belly with dough and chocolate.

When Connor finished the cookie dough, he sat back, panting, and threw Edna a glance. The woman was immersed in a large recipe book while chuckling to herself. No doubt readying herself to cook up her latest monstrosity.

Noticing that Connor was finished with the cookie dough, Edna lowered her book, buried her face in the fridge, and returned to the table with a large milkshake.

Connor was used to the process. He closed his lips around the straw and dutifully sucked the shake down. He was surprised that there weren’t five more shakes to follow. It seemed that Edna was letting him off easy that day. Connor began to push his seat back from the table, when he was suddenly overcome by a wave of dizziness. He felt himself tilting, and then there was blackness.

When Connor came to, the dizziness had not subsided. He blinked until the blurriness went away. He could tell that he was partially submerged in luke-warm water. Connor lifted his head, which had been bowed down against his breasts. He stomach felt so terribly uncomfortable – like something was binding him. Connor looked down at himself, surprised to find that he was naked. His belly was bound in several tight cords, each about six inches apart, with his fat bulging between them, like a tied pork loin. Connor groaned and trembled, and tried to pull at the cords,

but they were just too tight, and would not break. The tightness was suffocating and he found difficulty breathing.

The room was dark and unfamiliar, and upon further examination, Connor saw that he was in a strange metal tub filled with shallow water in which his body was partially submerged. His belly crowned out of the surface, and the water looked to be filled with…leaves, and specks of varying colors. Spices? There were also slices of onions and cloves of garlic floating about. Connor lifted his face from the tub and paled at

seeing a giant oven towering over him. What the hell is going on?

Suddenly light poured into the room from a door opening at the top of a wooden staircase not far from Connor.

Turning his head to look up at it, Connor could see that the door opened into

Edna’s living room – it looked like the entrance had been hidden behind a bookshelf. This must have been a secret basement. Connor squinted his eyes up at Edna as she appeared in the door frame.

“So you’re up,” Edna’s voice called down. “I’ll leave you alive for now – I like my meat to be fresh. Right now all I need you to focus on is getting nicely seasoned. I’ll be down to ladle you every few hours. And in the morning, it will be time to start baking.”

“No…” Connor protested, his voice weak from his breathlessness. “Edna – you don’t have to do this.”

Edna just gave him a smile before she turned and closed the door. Once again, the room was dark.

It would take Connor some time for his eyes to adjust to the dark again. But at the moment, he only panicked. He again struggled with the cords bounding his belly, but they were just too tight. He tried to get up a few times, but it was quite painful, and he quickly became exhausted, slumping back down in the tub. He fell into small, short breaths.

Connor’s eyes burned but he refused to cry. Instead he just struggled to breathe. Every moment that he sat there, the cords seemed to grow tighter on him. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his stomach began to grumble, hunger pains shooting through the restricted mass of his belly.

Connor went in and out of consciousness between his state of panic and his lack of oxygen. Each time he awoke, the rolls of fat made by the cords bulged more and more heavily through them, until Connor was sure they would slice into him.

Other times when he regained consciousness, his hair was wet and there were some extra seasonings on him, as though Edna had come by to ladle him with the juices. This just made Connor breathe in forceful ragged breaths, though this probably wasn’t in his best interest. His belly heaved and his face reddened as he struggled and failed to catch his breath.

With each gasp, his belly rocked powerfully, until suddenly, a cord snapped. Connor took another gasp of surprise, some extra air flooding his diaphragm. As the pressure against the other cords increased, those began to snap as well. Connor panted and rubbed his hands over his belly once it was freed. The lines where the cords had been left his skin reddened and indented.

Though still quite dizzy, Connor tried to take inventory of the room. There was a window high on one of the walls, but there was no light coming through. Maybe it was night time.

The basement seemed to be set up like a kitchen. There was the massive oven, a huge industrial fridge, and other pieces of industrial-sized equipment, like mixers, pots, and toasters. And everything looked worn, as though they had been used a lot over the years.

Connor stomach grumbled and he released a groan. Edna seemed to have groomed him into a state of continuous hunger. But if Connor could push through it, he might have a chance. In fact, this could be his one opportunity to escape.

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