Cupcake

Brad’s client, a shlubby middle-aged professor named Miles, gasped when Brad had peeled off his skin-tight shirt to reveal his shredded torso. His breath caught when Brad dropped his sweatpants to reveal the leopard-print speedo Miles had requested he wear. Brad smiled as he guided Miles into a chair in the center of the professor’s kitchen. He straddled the pudgy older gentleman and flexed his abs, then guided his client’s hands up to the veiny cobbled abdomen for some touch-time. Miles shivered as he felt Brad’s rock-hard body. He pinched at the skin, marveling at how thin and taut it was.

“It’s like… paper thin,” Miles gasped. Brad smiled as he swayed his hips in circles, rotating his body around to show off his backside. Then he bent at the waist and thrust his glutes right into Miles’ face. The man audibly breathed in the scent of Brad’s rear, following it with a drawn-out moan. “You are… perfection!” Miles whispered right into Brad’s ass.

The entire time he danced and flexed, Brad’s eyes never strayed from the clock on his client’s oven. “One hour,” he thought, “and I’m out of here.” The intensity of Miles’ reactions to Brad’s body would make one think this was his first time getting to witness it up close. In reality, this was Brad’s third visit to Miles in two weeks. He’d banked a good 20 grand from Miles this past year. It was a cushy job; Brad never had to do anything new. The same act was still producing the exact same joyful outcries and spikes in arousal as it always had.

But Brad could tell when a client was getting too clingy. Miles had started throwing tantrums when Brad was busy with other clients and couldn’t show up exactly when requested. A month before, after a considerably long and dramatic voicemail cursing Brad for being booked up with other clients, Miles sent a bouquet of flowers and an apology letter to Brad’s house. The fact that Miles had tracked down his home address unsettled him, and he realized it was time to cut ties with this before it escalated further.

“Your waist… is so freaking small!” Miles exclaimed as he measured its circumference with his fingers. Brad smiled and dropped an arm right in front of Miles’ face, bouncing it hard before flexing it so hard its pronounced peak stood out. “And your arms are so big… your shoulders!” Brad presented his massive delts for Miles’ inspection. “So big and so wide… you’re a human marvel!”

Five more minutes, Brad thought as he glanced back at the clock.

“Let me see that beautiful blond hair,” Miles said. His mouth was wide open, a dollop of drool starting its way down his chin.

Brad winked before reaching up and yanking the hair-tie off his man bun. Long blonde locks fell around his head. Brad shook his beautiful hair back and forth sensuously, much to Miles’ delight.

“You’re like… a norse god…” Miles whispered. Brad almost rolled his eyes. He said it every single time they met. Brad had reflected upon the possibility of Miles’ mental instability months before. He lived alone, worked all day doing top secret lab work for a government facility, and didn’t seem to know anyone else. Brad wondered if Miles ever left for any reason other than to go to work. If Miles hadn’t kept upping his offer, Brad would have quit coming to this creepy apartment long ago. He had fronted 2 grand for this hour alone, his highest offer ever. All things considered, Brad was willing to give up an hour for 2 grand, but he had resolved this would be the last time.

“Well,” Brad said, licking his lips as he mesmerized Miles by bouncing his enormous pecs, “looks like our time is up. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Miles nodded mutely, taking in every inch of Brad’s body. “I’d love to study you,” he said as he quietly examined Brad’s bulging body. “You’re somehow able to put on massive amounts of muscle while maintaining a near inhuman leanness…”

Brad smiled and shrugged. “Good genetics are definitely on my side, but I sure as hell work a whole lot.”

“But look at you!” Miles traced the air around Brad’s massive quads and gestured around his thick lats. “It’s like you’ve found a way to stuff so much muscle on your frame without an ounce of fat. There’s no one in the world like you, Brad!”

“Thanks,” Brad said as he started to back away. His bag was near the door. He just needed to collect his things and bail. “I always enjoy our time together.”

“One more hour?” Miles begged from his seat. “I’ll pay 2 grand for it.”

Brad considered the offer. He had to start setting boundaries with Miles now and let him know that he couldn’t be bought. “I’d love to, Miles, you know that, but I have to go… I have another appointment.”

“3 grand?” Miles offered. He rose from his seat and grabbed Brad’s discarded pants and shirt from the floor. He smelled them deeply and held them to his chest.

Brad tried not to let on how disturbing Miles’ tenacity was. “I really am sorry,” he said, reaching for his clothes. Miles jerked away. “But I have to go.”

Miles deflated as he sighed. “Fine then,” he said. “You know, every time you leave you’re all I think about. I wish I could keep you here with me. I’d take such good care of you… I’d feed you, bathe you, brush that beautiful hair, get you off whenever you needed… You’d be better taken care of with me than you would be anywhere else!”

That was enough. Brad could leave his clothes. He started to back toward the door.

“I made something for you,” Miles said. He ran to his fridge and opened it only a couple of inches, pulling something out before slamming it shut. “It’s not much, just a little treat. Honestly, I figured if you got a taste of how good my food is you’d finally take me up on my offer to stay for dinner…”

Miles held a single cupcake directly in Brad’s face. The icing was lavender, the cake itself dark blue. Brad eyed it suspiciously. “You know I can’t eat like that.” He slapped his ripped abs, pinching at the thin skin. “You wouldn’t like my body much anymore if I ate cupcakes whenever I wanted to, would you?”

“Oh, I’d love it!” Miles said, his eyes lighting up. “It’s not your body I love! It’s you. Honestly.” He shook the cupcake insistently.

“Sorry Miles. It looks great, really, but I can’t eat it.” Brad grabbed his bag and took a step backward. “And I’ve got to go.”

“Please, please don’t hurt me by rejecting me!” Miles begged with a pained look. “You have no idea how much rejection I’ve dealt with. Not you too. I’m just asking you to take a gift. You don’t even have to eat it.”

Brad’s demeanor softened. “Okay, fine,” he said. “I’ll--” Miles shoved the cupcake at him so insistently that it smashed in Brad’s face. “Geez, whoa! Calm down!” Brad wiped the lavender frosting from his face, ready to unveil his irritation if Miles didn’t let him out the door sooner. “Fine, I’ll take it. Just… calm down, okay?”

Miles’ eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Gosh, I ruined it…” Shaking, he scrambled to a roll of paper towels and hastily unrolled a bunch.

“It’s fine, seriously,” Brad said. He tasted a bit of frosting in the corner of his mouth. Damn, he had been dieting long--that little bit tasted amazing! Like blueberries or raspberries… both, sweet and creamy as hell. He looked down at the smashed cupcake in his hand as his tongue found a little more frosting up near his nose. A little bit couldn’t hurt.

“Gosh, I messed that all up,” Miles said. “I had that all planned out, how it was going to go…” He picked up Brad’s shirt and sweatpants and handed them back to the big stud with his head held down in shame. “I just like you so much, I get overwhelmed.”

Brad shrugged his big shoulders. “It’s no big deal Miles. Thank you for the cupcake.” There was a dollop of frosting on the back of his right hand. Without thinking he licked his hand clean. “Frosting’s great. It’s delicious.” Brad wasn’t lying. He didn’t think he had tasted anything so amazing in a long time--better than tilapia and brown rice, that is.

“You really like it?” Miles said. “Oh my goodness.” He clasped his hands together. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Anyway,” Brad said, as he turned to the door. He opened his mouth to say, “Goodbye!” but instead, a powerful belch erupted from him. His whole torso vibrated as the burp escaped as a deep roar. Brad slapped a hand over his mouth, his shock tripling when a long, loud fart blasted out from his backside.

“My goodness!” Miles said. “You certainly are a little gassy, aren’t you?”

Brad was shocked. He actually felt tired after the double-barreled eruption--and how could he not have seen either of them coming? Shame burnt on his cheeks as he heard his stomach grumbling loudly. He still had another half hour until his next prepped meal (in a cooler in his car) but for some reason he was voraciously hungry like he had just crushed a heavy volume leg day. He eyed what was left of the cupcake in his hand.

“Are you okay?” Miles asked. He held his hands out like he was spotting, as if he expected Brad to tumble over any minute.

“I feel…” Brad rubbed his forehead. “A little dizzy, but… hungry as shit…” Fuck. He couldn’t remember ever being this hungry before. The idea of tilapia turned his stomach--he wanted burgers and fries! Holy shit, he hadn’t had on-diet cravings like this in years. Maybe he would stop at a Jack-in-the-Box on the way home and call it a refeed.

Miles seemed to search his apartment for something. “I have, uh… Well, I don’t have much to eat, except… more cupcakes…”

Brad blinked. He actually felt like he would pass out if he didn’t eat something right now. “It’s fine, I’ll just…” Without thinking he shoved the cupcakes remains in his mouth. With his mouth stuffed full, he chomped loudly before swallowing it back. His eyes went wide as the flavor nearly overwhelmed him. So sweet, so moist… his tongue searched his mouth for remains after he had swallowed. He savored every morsel it found.

Miles smiled. “Would you like something to wash it down with? I have milk, or water…” He headed toward the fridge.

Brad blinked at the idea of drinking either. He had completely forgotten about Miles’ earlier outburst and his creepy behavior. His mouth was watering, and if he couldn’t have another cupcake he knew that water wasn’t going to cut it. “Cream,” he said, surprised as the word left his mouth. “Half and half. I’d like some half and half.”

Miles stared at him, confused, but searched his fridge anyway. “I have this heavy whipping cream,” he said, producing an unopened carton. “I was going to make an angel food cake tomorrow…”

“Done,” Brad said. He marched across the kitchen and yanked it from Miles hand. He fumbled to open the carton for a moment before biting the edge and tearing it open. He upended the carton and chugged the heavy cream desperately. Some of it poured from the edges of his mouth, dribbling down his chiseled torso, but he gulped the rest of it down without a breath. He stood there uneasily afterward, shocked at what he had done. His hands went to his distended belly.

“I bet your body’s not used to that!” Miles exclaimed. 

Brad’s stomach gurgled like a water cooler. He had to leave, go get some chinese food. Some pizza. No, lasagna. A huge pan of cheesy lasagna…

“I’m sorry,” Brad said. He stumbled toward the door, his legs suddenly weak. “I have to… go…”

“Look at you!” Miles exclaimed. “Your belly!”

Brad stared in shock. Not only was his gut now full of cream, but the chiseled abs were slowly starting to fill in. “The cream,” he mumbled. “I just chugged some cream. Gotta burp it out, or something…”

“All over you!” Miles said as he walked around Brad in disbelief. Both men had studied Brad’s body intently; both of them were aware that he looked like he had done some heavy bulking, like back when he used to compete. What used to be shrink-wrapped, veiny muscles now had an added layer all over them. Brad looked like he had doubled in size, and while he still had an incredible physique (now twice the dimensions it had when he had walked in that day), he now sported a layer of thickness and water weight he hadn’t had in years. The cobbles in his abdomen were slowly filling in. The separation in his pecs was suddenly filled in. He flexed his quads, hoping to see their usual stunning vascularity, but he was shocked to see a bulked-up offseason quad muscle; all size and thickness, no detail whatsoever.

“I look like…” He examined his now puffy form. “Like I got stung by a bee!” The entire time he was distracted by the haze of his hunger which had been steadily growing with every second. Despite his horror at what was happening to his body, he had to eat something--now!

“Another cupcake?” Miles said, holding another, identical to the first, right in front of Brad’s face. Brad ate it like a horse would eat an apple, wrapper and all. He chewed and swallowed frantically.

“More,” he moaned. “Fuck, I need more food!”

“It doesn’t look like you do,” Miles said with an eyebrow raised and a sly smirk but he still headed for the fridge. “But there are plenty more cupcakes where those came from!”

Brad headed for the fridge, his gait thrown off by legs that had seemingly doubled in size, before shoving Miles inside. He saw a tray with ten more cupcakes in it. He grabbed two, immediately shoving one in his mouth. “What the fuck…” he asked as he realized he couldn’t help himself from eating the other one. Eating was more important than breathing, than voicing his concerns--he had to get control!

He hadn’t even noticed that Miles had left the room until he returned, wheeling in a large scale that looked like it would weigh freight. “Let’s see,” he said, “you’re 6’3” tall, and what did you weigh when you walked in here?”

Brad watched his own body swelling like rising bread dough. There was no way this was real. “I’m 255…” he said.

“Want to know how much size you’ve put on?” Miles asked.

Brad didn’t--he wanted to get out of there--but Miles had another cupcake in his hand. He looked at his bag, at the door, then waddled toward Miles and the delicious cupcake. Miles backed away, beckoning Brad on until he was on the scale. Brad wolfed it down, chewing desperately as the LCD readout on the scale read 330.0.

“Wow, that’s a lot of bloat!” Miles said. He reached up and placed his hands on Brad’s stomach, which had swollen into a belly. Miles sank his hands into its softness, moaning as he did so. His fingers dug into Brad’s pecs, now oversized melons Brad could barely see past. Brad moaned as Miles’ fingers squished him in a way that wasn’t possible fifteen minutes ago. “Oh my goodness, the more of you there is, the more I love you!”

Brad moaned sadly as he realized his speedo hadn’t grown along with him. His body spilled out around it. There was no way he could get his fingers in to tear it off, no matter how he tried.

“I’m afraid we may have to cut that--” Miles began, but he was cut off with a loud POP as Brad’s expanding glutes and waist popped the speedo off and shot it across the room. Even though he wasn’t wearing much before, this sudden nudity made him feel even more helpless.

“Well, I’ll be honest with you,” Miles said as Brad grabbed at his sides, trying to hold them in as they expanded with flab. “Those weren’t just cupcakes. They were meant to be an experimental compound we’re generating for the military; hyper-dense nutrients that continue to deliver nourishment for days after you’ve eaten. Right now those cupcakes are in your body, rewiring your metabolism, and rearranging your body composition.”

Miles’ explanation did nothing to dispel Brad’s horror. He opened his mouth to protest but another loud burp erupted forth. His whole body jiggled from the force.

“But every time we tested them, the subjects just grew insanely hungry, and gained massive amounts of weight. If you’d only eaten the one, you would have been fine. Honestly, this will all wear off if you just stop eating them. You can gorge your hunger on cakes and pies but as long as you go a day without the compound, your body will return to exactly what it was before--plus or minus a few pounds, that is.”

Brad’s muscularity was now eclipsed by fat. No trace of the hunky bodybuilder remained; now he looked like a retired NFL lineman, every inch of him sagging with more and more pounds with each moment. Miles reached up and grabbed a handful of Brad’s now copious cheeks. He ran his fingers through Brad’s soft double-chin. Brad moaned sadly and pushed the hands away.

“Get away!” Brad said, his jowls shaking with each word. Even his face felt heavy with flab; speaking had become an effort. He started toward the door, his whole body wiggling like gelatin with every step. He tried to squish his big floppy man-tits back to the beautiful pecs they were before. He could feel his massive gut sagging more with each second. He could barely turn around but his blubbery but looked as wide as the backside of a bus. “Get away from me!” If what Miles said was true, he just had to get out the door and he would be fine. He could slam down food until the effects of this wore off and he’d be back to normal in a day. He just had to get to the door.

“How about this. If you leave right now, I’ll give you $20,000 and I’ll never talk to you again. Deal?” he held out a hand to shake. Miles backed away from it, then shook it, watching his horrifying arm flab wobble as he did so. “All right!” Miles said. He picked up his phone. “Just get out the door and the money is yours.”

Brad turned and took a step toward the door. His body felt so heavy like he was carrying a backpack full of bricks. He was so bloated and huge he felt like a parade float. He took another step, seeing his old shirt and sweatpants on the ground. They looked so tiny next to his massiveness now. His shirt wouldn’t even fit over his fat head now. He took another step, noticing his speedo, ruptured from his size. He had to keep going.

“Oh, Brad?” Miles said. He shoved something into Brad’s hand. “Just a little goodbye present.”

Brad didn’t have to look. He knew what it was. His stomach groaned loudly as he saw another cupcake in his hand. He trembled as he looked at it, looked at the door. Could he even fit through it? Just barely, he thought, if he squeezed right now… But the creamy sweetness in his hand was calling to him. God, he was so hungry! He could resist, he had to…

...no, he couldn’t. He shoved the cupcake into his fat face, groaned as he swallowed it, then ran with all the strength in his body toward the door. His body blew up even faster with this last treat in his belly. His legs shook, his whole body quivered, and just at the frame of the door, he collapsed to his big ass and sat there whimpering, just a few feet from freedom.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Miles said as he wiped the tears from Brad’s face, “You wouldn’t have fit out it anyway. That last cupcake put you over the edge.”

Brad looked down at himself, a swollen mound of turgid flesh, every bit of him jiggling each time he sobbed.

He heard his phone vibrate from inside his bag. He whimpered as he extended a thick flabby arm toward the sound. He knew there was no hope of getting his weight up off the floor on his own power anymore.

“Oh, let’s get rid of anything that’s going to upset you,” Miles said. He picked up the bag and walked away with it. While he was gone Brad stared at the door, then bag down at the warm blob that his body had become. His stomach giurgled and he felt the whole mass expand slightly. Was he still getting bigger?

“Now, I’ve got an idea,” Miles said as he came back in the room with a bucket and a large sponge like he was going to wash a car. “Let’s get you all washed up, I’ll wash and comb that beautiful hair of yours, and we’ll have a snack together while we watch TV. Does that sound fun?”

Later on, as Miles lovingly set Brad’s hair in curlers, the obese man slapped his captor’s hands away. “Now now,” Miles said, “if you don’t behave you won’t be getting any of those tasty cupcakes.”

At the mention of his beloved treat Brad went silent, his eyes and defenses sadly lowering.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. My Brad is going to look just beautiful. And you’re going to be so happy here!”