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Note: This is a story-prompt for Kush Destroyer.

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Chris was not having a good day.

That evening he had been laid off from work. Now, on top of all his other problems, he had to deal with unemployment in a brutal job market. Chris lived paycheck to paycheck, so he was decidedly fucked. Resignedly, he dropped himself across the couch of his small apartment. For now he would just sleep off his misery and deal with it later.

Chris felt as though he had just barely closed his eyes when he was suddenly gasping awake, sitting upright and looking wildly around his living room. He blinked at the familiarity of the environment and steadily calmed down. He had felt as if he had been somewhere else. That was the weirdest dream.

Chris couldn’t remember all the details, just the presence of…people?…hovering over him. Well, figures, really. They were strangely voluptuous, significantly curvy at the chest and hips. And they had had horns protruding from the tops of their heads. Chris rubbed his face and sighed. That was the last time he slept on the couch.

He shifted, finding his backside unusually sore, just a little. And he felt weirdly hungry. Really hungry.

A more diligent glance over the room told Chris that it was morning time. He had slept through the whole night. Chris’s stomach grumbled, and he was reminded that he had unintentionally skipped dinner the night before. He got up and headed to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast.

Chris was surprised by the amount of food he pulled out of the fridge, but his body seemed to be working on autopilot. Even as he was preparing food, he found himself munching on pieces of bread, cheese, and whatever else he could get his hands on. In the meantime, he scrambled a dozen eggs, not really knowing why he was making so much. Maybe this was just his way of dealing with the frustration of losing his job. In only minutes, he had whipped together a huge meal of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and sausages. He also made himself a massive bowl of cereal on the side. Chris loaded the feast onto his kitchen table, set himself down, and began to dig in. He ate voraciously, packing food in his mouth, filling his cheeks, then stuffing in more. He chewed and swallowed as rapidly as he could, feeling absolutely ravenous. Like a bottomless pit. He couldn’t get enough. He ate and ate till he felt sick, and then he ate some more. Chris finished the whole thing, then went back to make seconds.

-

It was a week later.

The job hunt was not going well.

Chris spent a lot of his time sitting behind his laptop, submitting his résumé out to every organization he could find that had job openings, even low-level positions. So far, he had gotten no interest from any of the companies. No interviews, no requests for more information, not even a polite rejection email. Just nothing.

On top of that, Chris was dealing with other problems.

Ever since he lost his job, his appetite has been out of control. Maybe it was his way of dealing with stress, but he found himself eating constantly, draining through his remaining cash to buy large amounts of food, and stuffing himself relentlessly. There didn’t seem to be a moment of the day that he didn’t have something on hand, whether it be chips, pretzels, cheese sticks, candy bars, jerky—anything really. And his three, sometimes four, meals of the day were now always comprised of mountains of fattening foods. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but it was getting out of control. His weight was surging.

Chris’s previous flat abdomen had gotten plump and rounded. His hips were thicker and his backside was fuller, now stretching out all the seats of his pants. His chest was just getting weird, weight surging there until his pecs had rounded out, getting plumper and fuller, turning into little breasts. Well, not so little. He was starting to look like a woman over there. And it was awkward. Chris started trying to wear layers to cover it up, but the flesh was really tender, nipples almost painfully sensitive. Normally when dudes developed manboobs, they were saggy enough that they weren’t too noticeable. But these ones were weirdly round and plump. He’d say they looked like B-cups.

Chris really needed to get his shit together.

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