Genie Trouble pt. 1.5

By Ventrego

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At six a.m. the next morning, Ria gently shook Jose awake. They kissed before she disappeared into the kitchen to make breakfast.

He sat up, and paused. Something felt different. He bounced experimentally, and the bed springs creaked. He shrugged and hauled himself out of bed to shower.

It was when he wrapped the towel around his waist that he realized what had changed. His gut had overshadowed the towel for years, but today was the first time the towel actually tucked underneath his stomach. He grabbed the damp, warm ball and lifted it. The towel sagged slightly floorward. He hoisted the towel up and underneath again, grinning as he stepped on the scale.

The LEDs went blank for a moment before reading 215.

"Heh!" The chuckle escaped Jose involuntarily, followed by another. "Ha! Ha!" He bounced up and down on the scale, his now-larger stomach setting a counterrhythm. The LEDs flickered until he bounced back onto the bath mat.

When he pulled on his clothes it became apparent his gut wasn't the only thing that had grown. His 36" waist jeans, which had been getting a bit snug, were now decidedly tight. He took stock of himself in the bathroom mirror. His XL tee-shirt was now filled completely out by his fatter frame.

The smell of bacon and eggs pulled him out of his reflections. A thick black leather belt slipped through the loops in his jeans before he went downstairs for breakfast.

It took him twenty minutes to polish off the generous portion Ria had made for him. He smiled at her comments about how big he was getting, and truly enjoyed her cooking, but as he rose from his chair he made sure to mention how tight his pants were getting.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll get you some bigger ones tonight, okay?"

"What would I do without you, Ria?"

"Waste away," she said, and giggled.

Jose laughed and pulled her into a passionate kiss, pressing his body against her before leaving for work.

----------

The sound of clanking weights awoke Mutazz late that morning. The genie stretched, stood up, and surveyed his pillow-strewn enclosure with a smile.

Mike's driveway was empty. Mutazz stepped over to the fence that divided Mike's and Dave's yards. Dave was on his back on the weight bench, both hands gripping a dumbbell. The genie stood quietly as Dave counted of ten repetitions, then set the bar back in its bracket.

As Dave sat up, his eyes widened. He recovered his composure quickly, and adjusted his workout gloves. "Waddaya want?"

"I am curious. You are large for a human, yet you continue in these exertions."

Dave braced his arms against his knees. "Is that a question?"

The genie remained stoic. "Yes."

"If you don't work out, you get all soft like the beaner across the street. The fairy..." Dave's mouth slammed shut and for a moment he looked like he'd just sucked on a very sour lemon. "Uh...I mean, guy you live with, doing office work, he'll be fat within a year. I ain't going that way." The powerlifter stretched his arms behind his back. "So I don't skip a workout. Ever. Not that I ain't sore after yesterday."

If the genie smiled, it didn't reach to his face. "So you will do these every day, no matter what."

Dave grunted. "Yeah. And if it wakes you up in the morning, that's your problem."

Mutazz considered this for a moment. "Then I may as well assist you."

As the genie came around the fence, Dave jumped off the weight set towards his house. "Stay away from me. I don't know what you did to me yesterday, but you ain't doing it again."

The genie showed his hands, palms out, eyes locked on Dave. "I give you my word, I mean you no harm. Simply show me what exercises you are going to perform, and I will render such aid as you require."

Dave returned the genie's intense gaze. "Is this a trick?"

Mutazz let his hands drop. "You seemed to want my help as a 'workout partner' yesterday. My only interest is in learning what exercises you perform. But if the offer no longer stands..."

Dave's arms crossed in front of his bulging chest as he shifted his leather gloves. The grass crumpled beneath his feet as he stepped back towards the weight bench. "The first sign of funny stuff, and it's over."

The genie nodded. "Agreed."

Dave sat down on the weight bench and picked up a short barbell. "Okay. The next thing I was going to do was bicep curls. You brace your elbow against your knee and lift like this." The powerlifter's arm bulged as the weight rose to his shoulder. His other hand smacked the hard baseball of muscle that bulged underneath his skin. "This is really great for keeping your upper arms in shape."

The genie sat down on the grass and watched as Dave began couting out reps.

Two hours later, Dave was showing Mutazz the proper form for a bench press. Mutazz was standing behind the bench, acting as a spotter. As Mike's car pulled into his driveway, the branches from Dave's tree scraped the roof quietly.

Dave set the bar down. "Thanks for the help, man...I'd better go inside before that Mike starts ogling my bod. Same time tomorrow, if you want to do this again."

"Deal." Mutazz shook Dave's hand. When Mike's head appeared over the fence, the powerlifter jumped off the weight bench and walked away.

Mike looked quizically at the genie. "What're you doing over there?"

"Dave was showing me how to use this exercise equipment."

"Why do you care? You can just make yourself built if you want."

"Yes, but..." The genie shrugged. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I came home for lunch, if that's okay." Mike snapped. "I've only got twenty minutes at home. I'll be in the kitchen."

The genie watched Mike go into his house, and proceeded to practice bicep curls.

When Mike left for work again, the two did not exchange words.

----------

Jose's pickup truck rattled up to the front of his house. The mexican stepped out and adjusted his shirt, which had ridden up his stomach. It took a bit of stretching to completely cover the round ball with fabric. Across the street, Mutazz was sitting on Dave's weight bench. Jose waved, and the genie came across to meet him.

"Hey, bud, how's it going?" Jose's smile radiated his usual warmth.

Mutazz grinned slightly. "Today was most instructive. I learned how to 'work out' with Dave."

"Well...uh...I guess it's good for you to be learning new stuff. Did you enjoy it? He can be a real prick sometimes."

Mutazz flexed his arms. They looked muscular as always, but not pumped. "My body doesn't respond to exercise the way a human's does. It was an interesting, but academic, exercise."

"Well, you and Mike are coming over for dinner tonight, right? Ria's probably cooking up a storm already."

The genie nodded. "Of course. I will be sure to bring plenty of that Mongol beer you are so fond of."

"Great! I'd better get in and see if I can help any...she usually insists I rest instead, but I always try. She's a great woman."

"That she is."

Jose disappeared into his house. Mutazz looked down the street, to see Mike's car slowly approaching. The genie made a magic gesture and and disappeared into his tent.

---------

Jose and Ria made the dinner a jovial affair. Every time Jose started to slow down, Ria would make some comment about how skinny he looked, and put more enchiladas on his plate. By the end of the meal, Jose had polished off four platefuls of cheese enchiladas, plus chips and salsa and so many mugs of beer Mike had lost count.

"Are you sure you're full?" Ria said to Jose in a tone that conveyed equal parts hope and disappointment.

Jose leaned back from the table. His shirt was an inch shy of covering his swollen round stomach. He rubbed the top edges of his gut with both hands and groaned quietly. When he smacked it, it made a hollow thump like a ripe melon. "If I eat any more, I might explode. And then how would I taste your great cooking tomorrow?"

Ria smiled. "I don't want any of those women in the office with saying I don't feed you right."

Jose chuckled. "You don't have anything to worry about. I could work with a hundred women, and none of them would hold a candle to my Ria."

Ria leaned forward and kissed Jose on the cheek. She turned to Mike and Mutazz and asked, "Would you like some more? There's plenty in the oven..."

Mike's groan echoed Jose's. "Ria, Jose didn't overstate it at all. You are a really, really, really good cook. Thank you!"

Mutazz smiled and patted his trim midsection. "Your cooking is truly fit for kings."

Ria flushed, smiled, and looked towards the floor. "Well then...if you're done, why don't you go into the living room and let me clean up in here."

Mutazz waved his hands in front of him. "I insist you allow us to clean up. Such lovely hands as yours should not be exposed to the harshness of dirty dishwater."

Ria looked at Jose uncertainly. He shrugged and nodded. She stood up and looked around at the mess before saying, "Well, then...I have some reading to do tonight. I'll be in the bedroom. Just knock if you need anything." She left amid thanks from the men.

Mutazz waited until she was gone, then waved his hands over the table. The dirty dishes disappeared, replaced by a plate of sweetbreads and several more mugs of the thick dark-brown beer.

Jose was the first to speak. "Man, what a meal." Jose's hand reached down underneath his gut and felt around for the top of his jeans. As he popped the button open, his gut pushed out another inch. He sighed and rubbed the round ball above his lap with both hands.

Mike's eyes widened as he said, "Looks like that wish is working out pretty well for you, Jose. Or is it just Ria's cooking?"

Jose looked down at his gut, then back at Mike. "Ria's fed me well before, but I never completely outgrew a pair of jeans in a day. It's definitely thanks to our friend here." Jose lifted his mug in the direction of Mutazz. Mike nodded, looking a little surly as he did so.

Jose continued. "Hey, Mike, did you hear? Mutazz spent today with Dave. Maybe he'll teach that guy a lesson."

Mike set his mug on the table. "Not to hear Mutazz tell it. Seems he's been learning a thing or two from Dave."

Mutazz looked over at Mike. "There is much to learn from him. He works hard to maintain his body, for one thing."

"What, are you saying I should start working out?"

"I think you much of your discomfort in dealing with Dave comes from his physical superiority."

Jose looked across the table at his two guests. "Guys..."

Mike's jaw twitched. "Oh, really? And I supposed the fact that he's a prick has nothing to do with it?"

"You must admit you fear his strength."

"Mutazz, I don't know what you two have been talking about, but..."

"He is right to complain about you watching him work out. I've noticed your gaze lingering on him several times when he is exercising."

Jose braced his forearms against the table. "GUYS!"

Mike and Mutazz both looked at the mexican, startled.

"I don't know what's up between you two, but Dave's not worth fighting about. Let's all pick up our mugs, take a good long drink, and kick back. It's the weekend, you know? Time to relax."

Mutazz lifted his mug with his customary smoothness. Mike grudgingly raised his.

Jose grunted, pushing against his full stomach as he sat forward. He raised his mug above the table. "To me getting fatter...and to all of us having a good weekend."

The three mugs clinked together, and talk of Dave was banished for the night.

----------

The next week passed largely without incident. Every morning, Jose's truck tipped a little more to the driver's side when he left for work. Mike and Mutazz had begun to avoid each other, and Mutazz spent most of his days talking with Dave. Dave seemed to enjoy the attention, and was working out harder than ever before.

At the end of a particularly good workout, Dave stood up and grinned. "Man, you are really helping me out here! My shirt sleeves totally strain around my arms now!"

Mutazz smiled. "That is good."

Dave watched his bicep bulge and relax repeatedly. Mutazz waited for a moment before speaking again.

"This is our last workout session together, and I wish to settle matters before I leave you."

Dave shook his head. "You're going? Why?"

Mutazz's lip twitched. "You do not care for Mike."

Dave stopped flexing abruptly. His hands balled into fists as his head whipped around, looking for his neighbor. "What...that little...was he watching again?"

Mutazz put a steadying hand on Dave's shoulder. "Mike is nowhere near. You must calm yourself."

Dave's arms relaxed slowly. The genie continued.

"I thank you for the pleasure of your company. Until we meet again." Mutazz extended a hand, which Dave clasped without the usual bone-crushing squeeze.

Just as Dave released the genie's hand, he found himself in a red brick room with some crude bodybuilding equipment. A bare bulb cast a harsh light on the chrome bars. Although all the benches and bars were there, no weights were visible anywhere.

An enormous Russian man appeared, standing nearly a head taller than Dave. A low bass voice rumbled, "Good you are here. This spa of sorts. You vork out."

Gigantic hands grabbed Dave's shoulders and he soon found himself lying on a flat bench. The same hands grabbed his lower legs, and planted his feet on the dirt floor. A long dumbbell was placed in Dave's hands, and the huge Russian assumed a spotting position for a bench press.

"Aren't you going to put weights on?" asked Dave, looking up at the underside of the Russian's bulging pecs.

The Russian leaned down and grabbed the bar in the middle. Suddenly the mighty muscles flexed, and Dave found himself pushing with all his might to keep the bar from crushing his chest. The Russian relented just enough to allow Dave to raise the bar again. The Russian grinned down at his new captive. "No need weights. I push against you. When you strong as me, you go home."

Dave gulped, feeling the mighty Russian pushing down against him. This was going to be a long workout.

----------

Mutazz rapped firmly on the door to Mike's house. It was a few moments before Mike appeared. His shirt was covered with flour, and his face was tense. "Oh. What do you want?" The accent on "you" made it clear Mutazz was not expected today.

Mutazz looked at the white powder covering Mike's shirt. "It seems you are cooking again."

Mike brushed his hands off, sending a small cloud of flour drifting out onto the porch. "Yeah, well, somebody's got to do it. So what do you want to ask me about? Why Dave's a jerk? Why people buy stuff at the convenience store when it's cheaper at the grocery? What's the deal with Q-tips?"

"While I appreciate your offer of assistance, I can now function on my own in this time," said Mutazz. "I don't need you to teach me about humans any more."

Mike put his hands on his hips and cocked his head angrily. "Then why are you still here?"

Mutazz's mouth set in a firmer line than usual. "I guess there's no reason. Goodbye." The genie made a magic gesture in the air, and promptly disappeared.

Mike turned and slammed the door shut, leaving just the flour-dusted porch to sit in the late afternoon sun.

---------

That night, Jose invited Mike over for dinner. Jose seemed disappointed that Mike didn't have any Mongol beer stored up at his house anywhere, but dinner was still pleasant. The two retired to the living room to talk afterwards. Mike found it hard to focus on the conversation, as the mexican had swollen into a round man weighing nearly three hundred pounds. Jose didn't seem to mind that Mike was distracted, and talked lightly to fill the time. When the genie was mentioned, however, Mike's attention snapped back to the conversation.

Jose swirled his beer in its bottle. "Mutazz came by to say goodbye. I'll miss him."

"I won't. I'm glad he's gone. He was so obnoxious when he was here. I freed him already - why did he keep hanging around anyway?"

"Amigo, you're an idiot sometimes."

Mike dropped his beer to the table. "What?"

"He wanted to be your friend."

"You have got to be kidding. He'd rather live in a TENT than stay with me."

"If you'd just been freed from thousands of years of slavery in a lamp, would you want to stay in someone else's house?"

Mike shrugged. "And for that last week, he hung around with Dave all the time, didn't say more than three-word sentences to me..."

"Man, he was totally studying Dave! Don't you remember he wanted to understand people? The minute he was done with Dave, he said goodbye and walked straight back to you. And he doesn't say more than three words at a time to anybody. "

"But...but..." Mike's eyes roamed around the kitchen as he searched for what to say next.

"I ain't saying he wasn't tough to get along with sometimes. But man, if I'd had to guess, I would've said you two would've been buds! Or...you know..." Jose's voice dropped. "...buds." The mexican's tone made it clear just how close he thought Mike and Mutazz would get.

Mike gaped. "You really thought THAT? I mean..."

Jose shrugged. "Man, I ain't saying for sure. Maybe he didn't swing that way. But underneath that tough-guy act of his, he had a real soft spot for you. Maybe he hid it too well for you to see."

Mike tilted the bottle and stared into his beer. His face became more and more sober as the liquid swirled around inside the glass.

Jose leaned forward. "Aww...man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you down. Did I mention I was up to 280 this morning? Probably over 290 by now." It took both hands for Jose to bounce his very substantial gut.

Mike's eyes flickered away from his beer. "Really? ...It's amazing how much you've gained...you look great!" Mike watched the bouncing belly for a minute, but then his face fell. "Tell ya what, bud, I'd better head home. I'm feeling pretty tired."

Jose stopped bouncing, shrugged, then stretched in a very distracting manner. "Yeah, me too. I find myself sleeping a little more now - it gets tiring hauling this much man around! Or maybe it's just that I'm in bed with Ria more...who knows?"

Mike grinned halfheartedly and walk towards the door. Jose opened it for him, and put an arm out.

"Hey, bud, sleep well. And don't worry about it - there's other guys out there, ya know?"

"Other guys, sure." Mike half-smiled as Jose closed the door.

The smile fell flat immediately. "Guys everwhere. Tons of guys. But nobody like Mutazz." Mike shuffled out into the cool night.

---------

Two days later, Jose returned from work early. He hopped out of his truck, and stared in shock across the street.

It wasn't too surprising that Dave was back, and doing bench presses.

It was surprising that his shirt had exploded in several places around his now-massive body.

Dave's chest bulged several inches above his chin as he smoothly lowered the weight of a small car. His arms were so swollen his biceps nearly touched the dumbbell at the bottom of the motion.

Jose watched a few repetitions, then muttered under his breath as he turned to go into his house. Ria was seated in the front room, looking out the window. She jumped up when Jose walked in.

"Jose! You're home early!"

Jose hugged his wife, then looked at the chair where Ria'd been sitting. "I see Dave's back...you've been watching him, haven't you?"

Ria backed up slightly. "Oh, no, I've just been...just been..." She glanced out the window, where the powerhouse of a man was still lifting weights.

Jose planted his hands on his hips, and swiveled his three-hundred-plus-pound bulk in front of the window. Dave completely disappeared behind Jose's width. Jose grinned and said, "Just been waiting for your man to get home, right?"

Ria's face lit up and she flung herself on him. "Oh, yes!" The two kissed passionately. As her hand explored underneath his 3XL shirt, she said, "He is nothing...nice to look at, but to hold? To love? No one could hold a candle to my Jose. My big, beautiful Jose." She kissed him passionately.

Jose kissed her back. "And nobody could hold a candle to my Ria."

---------

That Saturday, Mike was out watering his lawn when a big rig pulled up in front of his house. It stopped with a hiss of air brakes. The driver's door opened, then shut loudly.

A beer-bellied truck driver rolled himself around the front of the rig and onto Mike's lawn. "Hey, buddy, can you tell me how to find 1775 Chickweed Lane?"

"I don't know where that is, exactly...there's definitely no Chickweed Lane near here."

"Damn." The fat trucker rifled through a stack of shipping papers. "I'm gonna have to call in on this one. Can I use your phone?"

"Sure!" Mike tried not to stare at the trucker's huge round gut as it bounced towards him. Mike followed the trucker into his house, and indicated where to find the kitchen.

The trucker picked up the phone and dialed an 800 number. He waited a few moments, then said, "Great, now I'm on hold."

After a few minutes, the trucker turned to Mike, the phone still pressed against his ear. "Nice place you got here."

Mike grinned. "Uh...thanks."

Mike's eyes followed as the trucker reached forward to scratch the front of his gut.

"Heh...I'm not gonna be able to reach that much longer, the way things are going." The trucker spoke with nonchalance, but his eyes gazed steadily at Mike.

Mike flushed a bit as his heartbeat sped up. He swallowed before saying, "Pretty easy to gain weight on the road, huh?"

The trucker surveyed his sixty-inch gut. "You said it, bud. You're either driving or eating, or both. I just keep...Hi! Yeah, I think you guys gave me the wrong address..." The trucker's attention returned to the phone for several minutes. Mike lingered patiently on the other side of the kitchen counter.

A beefy hand pulled a wallet on a chain out of the trucker's rear jeans pocket. The trucker unclipped the wallet and tossed it to Mike, saying, "Check out the weight on the license."

Mike opened the warm wallet and pulled out a laminated card with the truckers' picture on it. It said the driver was an M. Burlington, age 36, height 6'3", weight 600 pounds.

Mike looked back up at the trucker. "You're not six hundred..."

The trucker's stomach promptly shoved itself forward a foot. His arms swung out sideways as his body swelled up, the jeans suddenly big enough to hold an ass twice as wide as Mike.

The trucker looked down at himself as much as his thick neck would permit. "Damn! Guess I overdid it at that last buffet." He braced himself, then swung his huge gut around to face Mike. "Sure hope I can fit back in my rig."

Mike stood there, his jaw slack. The trucker, leaning back to balance his enormous bulk, swaggered around to Mike's side of the counter. His mass exaggerated the motion into a side-to-side roll. When the trucker's gut bumped against Mike, the trucker planted his feet and reached forward. There was a three-inch gap between his fingertips and Mike's shoulders.

The trucker's thick goatee split into a grin as he surveyed the expanse of pocket t-shirt in front of him. His swayback posture did nothing to diminish the two-foot advance of his stomach. The trucker rested his beefy arms on top of the ledge with plenty of room to spare.

Mike was looking up the shelf of belly wide-eyed as a kid who'd just walked into a candy store.

"You can touch me, ya know. I won't bite ya."

Mike's hands tentatively reached out to feel the huge round gut being shoved in his face. Soon he was groping the firm mass, his face fixed in the widest smile that would fit on it. The trucker's strong hands guided Mike's around, then up under the shirt. Mike gasped at the contact between his skin and the round, hairy driver's. There seemed to be no end to the expanse Mike could reach.

The trucker's goatee smiled with him. "It's awful, ya know? One day, you sign up for driving skinny as a rail, looking at all those fat truckers wondering how they got like that. Then the pounds start piling on and next thing you know, you're hauling around an ass as wide as the highway."

Mike thought he'd cream his pants right there.

"So...want to see what I'd look like at 800?"

Mike was knocked backwards as the trucker expanded again, his tee shirt forming a vast round expanse of cotton. Mike looked up at enormous denim-clad thighs shadowed by the biggest overhanging belly Mike had ever seen. The trucker looked down at the sprawled Mike and began to laugh in a deep, booming voice. "Didn't mean to knock you down there, pardner! Gimme your hand, Mike." A strong, beefy arm reached towards Mike. It pressed awkwardly against the trucker's swollen torso, and was much too short to reach beyond his gut.

Mike looked up in shock. "How do you know my name?"

The trucker stayed in the same position, but abruptly shrank back to his original size. "Think about it."

Mike reached for the hand at the same time he realized. "...Mutazz?"

The trucker grinned broadly, and transformed into the muscular middle eastern man Mike was used to seeing. The grip was no less strong, though, as he was pulled to his feet. Mutazz gestured in the air and bowed. "At your service, so to speak."

"Mutazz, I was such an idiot..."

Mutazz put his hand over Mike's mouth. "We learn from each other, my friend. That is what makes your company so worthwhile."

Mike's lips twitched, but he didn't seem able to say anything. The two stood, eyes locked, hands together.

Both men jumped when the phone rang. Mike picked it up. "Hello? Jose! Yeah, I know about the truck...You'll never believe who just walked in...well, yeah...okay, so you might guess...dinner? LOVE to! If..." Mike looked over at the genie.

Mutazz nodded.

"Great! See you in ten." Mike hung up the phone. "You picked a good time, Mutazz. Ria just finished cooking burritos."

"Good thing," said Mutazz, patting his midsection. The trucker's southern accent drawled from the genie's mouth, "I'm feelin' mighty hungry."

Michael laughed and put his arm around his bud. The two walked out into the sunlight together.