Bob’s Gaining Journey - Part 4 (Patreon)

A year after starting those business dinners, that’s when I met my toughest client ever. I started my eating routine, but he didn’t look intimidated. So I continued to eat. For hours. I reached a size I thought was impossible. But he didn’t flinch. The restaurant staff was worried, even after seeing me grow for a whole year. I remember that time when the waiter came to our table and said that I should stop eating or I was gonna explode… Drenched in sweat, I said to him that I was still hungry, and I ordered 3 extra-large pizzas. I thought the eyes of my client were illuminating. Was he into this? He was a secret feeder and wanted me to grow bigger, see how big I could become. He could barely hide his excitement.

At that point, I was curious too. I felt huge, invincible. He watched me eat for another whole hour.

My belly was about to crush him in his seat. He took the pen and paper and signed the contract, using my gut as a flat surface because the table was completely covered by me.

I was relieved. I finished my last plate when I realized that I grew so much that getting out of that place would be a challenge. He left, over-satisfied and visibly horny, but I was immobile in my seat. It took all my strength to get up on my feet. I could barely walk. The entire restaurant was looking at me, not only because of my size but because I was hitting and moving everything in my way like a bulldozer. When I arrived at the exit, I could tell that my immense belly was at least twice the door’s width. I sucked my belly as hard as I could, trying to make it smaller. The enormous ball shrank a couple of inches, but that wasn’t nearly enough. I put each hand on the side of the sphere, and I squeezed hard as if it was Play-Doh. My fat mountain was changing shape, slowly rising higher than my head and lower to the ground, while elongating far in front of me. That was it: the shape it formed would fit through the exit. Squeezing as hard as I could, I waddled in small steps, barely fitting in the opening. Almost! Two more steps...

But when my torso was about to pass through the door, my belly reacted to all that pushing and squeezing… A pocket of air exploded out of my mouth with the force of a pressurized tank. I did the loudest and deepest burp of my life. Everyone was already looking at me, and by looking at my gigantic body, they weren't surprised that I could do such a thing. But there was one problem… When I burped, I couldn’t hold my belly anymore and it just swelled back to its original inflated state like an airbag. Half of my mass was outside, while the other half was still wedged inside.

I pushed and I pushed, doing involuntary grunts that made everyone in the street uneasy.

At a moment like this, I know the thought I should have is “I should lose weight” or “I’m never eating again”, but believe it or not, at that moment, I wondered if the solution would be to feed me until my belly is hard enough to make that door explode.

Maybe it was my sweat that had lubricated the opening, maybe it was the frame of the metal door that had bent into a rounded shape, or maybe it was the entire staff of the restaurant pushing on my butt, but 20 minutes later, I finally popped out of my prison.

I was exhausted, full, and the heaviest I had ever been in my life. I had to lay down in a park all afternoon to let that belly deflate so I could fit into my car. I think I saw my client in a car, watching me all blown up in the middle of the park, but maybe it was just my imagination.

To be continued.