"You are so beautiful, my sweet," the stranger whispered in his ear.
Greg shifted away from him. "Tut tut. Don't run away. Let's see if
you can be a little friendlier."
Greg tried to reply, but was stopped by a warm wholesome feeling
suddenly bubbling up inside him. The stranger pulled him closer.
"Come, let's go home," he cooed. Greg smiled at him. Of course. Of
course he would go home with him. It was exactly where he should be.
They drove back to James' house. James led Greg over to a chair in a
strange room. It was very large, with soft cushy carpeting in it, a
long table, but not much else.
"You are so beautiful," he said again, "but you could be more so."
Again, a hum. Then, suddenly, there was food on the table.
Unaware to Greg, James had made it so that any food he ate would
directly add to his size.
He was so hungry. He was starving. He had never felt so hungry before
in his life. It was absolutely imperative that Greg eat that food. It
was all wonderfully delicious. Everything that passed through his
lips was an instant favourite. Decadent cakes, gorgeous meats, all of
it was eaten as quickly as he could fit it into his mouth.
He could feel James' approving eyes on him. It made him unspeakably
happy.
Everything that he ate didn't quench his hunger. He needed more.
He could feel his pants growing tighter, his button-up shirt starting
to stretch. His stomach began to protrude, his athletic physique
losing its form. He didn't notice.
He didn't notice until suddenly the table opened up and the food was
taken away. He was left sitting on the ground in front of an empty
table.
His pants were tight almost to splitting. His thighs were huge and
thick, as were his arms. There was no muscle definition to be seen.
His buttons were hopelessly stretched, a couple had popped off.
And he was hard.
His new bloated stomach had covered his erection. It felt good. It
felt really good. He didn't touch it. He felt compelled not to touch
it. He turned to James. James was smiling. James was also very very
hard.