By Loakachunk
http://loakachunk.tumblr.com/post/165169481859/the-jock-strap-part-3
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Chapter 3
Following his near miraculous workout, Kurt meandered to the school’s cafeteria for lunch. He felt surprisingly hungry, although given how much weight he just lifted, perhaps not that surprising.
Kurt’s school had a sort of all-day buffet available to students, which was incredibly convenient when classes ran over the usual lunch time. Today was the regular assortment of pizza, french fries, and doughy desserts, and Kurt loaded his tray up with as much food as it could carry along with an extra large soda at the fountain. He then ambled off to an empty table to begin his feast.
He knew he was hungry, but the way he scarfed down his meal was a shock, even to him. Nearly an entire pizza down and just finishing his fries, he let loose one of the loudest, most resonant belches he’d ever heard. All eyes in the cafeteria turned towards the source of the bellowing tone, and Kurt’s face went beet red. He murmured a brief “sorry”, and then dove back into his tray once everyone’s heads had turned away.
After he finished he went to put his now empty tray away and paused. He was somehow still hungry. So he went back for a second round and refilled his soda along the way.
By the time Kurt got home he felt satisfyingly stuffed. He’d been ravenous when he went out to dinner with some friends and had ordered two entrees along with a pitcher of beer to wash it down. His friends were a little curious at this and kept shooting pointed glances while he ate, but Kurt was so hungry he didn’t care.
Now, finally at home, he had the chance to kick back and relax after a long day. He went up to his room, closed the door, and popped open his belt. His distended stomach immediately blew open the button on his jeans, and he let out a contented sigh. Kurt shuffled forward to his desk, letting his jeans fall below his ankles and leaving him in nothing but a food-stained t-shirt and Eric’s cum-stained jockstrap.
Kurt was more than a little tipsy after his pitcher of booze, and had he been sober he might’ve noticed how the clipped straps were cutting into the meat of his ass more than when he’d woke up this morning, the safety pin straining just to stay fastened. He didn’t notice of course, and was instead intent on relaxing in the soft glow of his computer screen while he idly searched for porn, his almost-due math assignment totally forgotten.
Nor did he notice the soft layer of fat that had slowly crept over his middle throughout the day, obscuring his formerly washboard abs. Instead, his focus was on his monitor, where he’d just queued up a video of two truly massive, hairy dudes slamming one another on a sweat-stained sling.
In moments Kurt’s cock was tenting the crusty fabric of the jock strap he still wore. Briefly, he tugged at the mushroom head still encased in cotton, but soon became impatient and flipped his shaft into the open air. So consumed with what he was watching, Kurt also didn’t notice how his hand traveled ever so slightly further than it ever had before, his fingers spread just a little further apart than the last time he gratified himself.
Just as soon as the sling-bound bear came all over his expansive, hairy belly on screen did Kurt let loose his own cream with a low moan, splattering jizz all over his keyboard, his own budding gut, and on the fabric of the well-worn jockstrap. Then he got up and collapsed on his bed where he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning the sun peaked through Kurt’s bedroom window and struck him in the face as he slept. He’d forgotten to close his blinds the night before, and that had left him vulnerable to the sun’s terrible glare. He groggily reached for his phone to check the time and realized it was 10 minutes before his alarm was set to go off.
Disabling the alarm, he brought himself to his feet and realized he was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. He tossed the t-shirt into the laundry and tried to take off the jock strap, but found that it was extremely hard to get his fingers around the straps. The safety pin had clipped back the straps so they were cutting into the skin of his thighs almost painfully.
He reached behind himself to undo the pin and immediately felt relief as it was released, the straps having left angry red lines on his thick legs and buttocks. It seemed odd to Kurt that he had ever needed the pin in the first place, but dismissed the momentary concern to get on with his morning.
Kurt didn’t have classes this morning, and his usual routine was to go for a morning jog before having a healthy breakfast. He put on some shorts and found them to be oddly uncomfortable - the fabric ended well above his knees, and seemed to show off his beefy thighs more than he would have liked. The same happened as he donned a clean t-shirt - the fabric barely concealed his torso, leaving a sliver of flesh at the bottom peeking out. He chalked it up to laundry shrinkage and went downstairs to put on his shoes and get running.
Things kept feeling strange for Kurt as he got underway. Everything was tight and would rub against his body as he ran. He was also getting winded way earlier than he should be, having only been jogging for five minutes. After another few minutes he stopped, gasping for breath a few blocks from his house. This alarmed him more than his shrinking laundry ever could, and he walked back home wondering why his morning felt so strange.
As soon as he got home he stomped back to his room and peeled off clothing that was drenched in sweat despite the fact it was a cool morning and he hadn’t run that long. He then lumbered to the bathroom to wash the gunk he’d accumulated during his jog but forgot to take off the jock strap as he entered the tub.
Again he seemed to gloss over meatier arms and thicker thighs as he scrubbed, eyes oblivious to the mound of fat that had appeared on his middle in less than a day. The jock strap was fitting him better than ever, the pouch filling out far better than it had the day before. As he brought soap to every new inch of his body it was as though he couldn’t see that he was still wearing the now yellow-ish undergarments. Kurt simply ran the soap over them as though they were a part of him.
He stepped out of the shower and caught his reflection in the mirror. It looked like he had a week’s worth of stubble when he’d just shaved a few days ago. Practice was later this afternoon - he’d have to shave it off or coach would throw a fit.
Still, it didn’t seem too bad yet. Maybe he could get away with it for one more day.
He walked back to his bedroom still toweling himself off when he noticed he’d just gotten an email. It was from Erick, and the subject line read “My Jockstrap”.
Kurt froze, his towel slipping to the floor leaving him in nothing but the offending jockstrap. He then went over and clicked open. The body was nothing but a place and a time on campus, and an order to meet there.
He gulped, packed his bags, dressed in clothes that all felt way too small, and made his way to campus.
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Chapter 4
Kurt was having a difficult time getting to campus. Everything he was wearing felt tight and constricting, and no matter how he moved there would always be a part of him slipping out of whatever cloth tried to contain it. A love handle, a sliver of belly, a plumber’s crack - no matter how many times he adjusted his pants or pull down his shirt there was always something exposed to the cool air.
The email had said to meet behind the engineering building at 11 AM, right beside some sort of modern art sculpture that nobody ever remembered the name of. It was an area of campus that didn’t see a lot of foot traffic, so whatever Erick planned wouldn’t leave too many witnesses. Or so Kurt hoped.
Turning the corner of the engineering building, Kurt spotted Erick already waiting at the sculpture. Somehow he managed to look no less massive in plain clothes than when he was wearing his full protective gear. Erick’s long-sleeved shirt was straining to contain his massive barrel torso and impressively broad shoulders, while at the same time Kurt sympathized with the sliver of hairy belly that managed to peek out from beneath the cotton. Kurt once again straightened his own shirt, totally failing to conceal his own smaller belly, and walked over to greet him.
“Hey,” Kurt said. Erick merely grunted an acknowledgment, and then stood silently. It seemed to Kurt like he was waiting for something else, or that he was sizing Kurt up.
Kurt checked his surroundings: there were maybe a few students bustling to class, but otherwise the place was deserted. He hoped that Erick hadn’t invited him here with cruel intentions.
Suddenly, Erick lunged forward and grabbed Kurt by his shoulders, pulling him behind the statue. Before Kurt even had a chance to protest Erick had managed to wedge his hand between belt and belly and shoved it right down his pants, groping Kurt’s still jockstrap encased package.
“I fuckin’ knew it,” Erick said, smirking triumphantly. He didn’t remove his hand, and only star terror kept Kurt from boning up right then and there.
Even caught red-handed, self-preservation compelled Kurt to play dumb. “Wha-what do you mean?”
“That’s my jockstrap, dumbass. I knew you took it,” Erick shot back, although the look in his eye wasn’t one of malice. There was something else. Hunger?
Confused, but still acting in self-preservation, Kurt threw himself at Erick’s mercy. “I’m sorry! I took it after last practice.”
Erick raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because your cum was in it and I thought it would be hot to wear it after you came in it because I think you’re hot,” Kurt said in a rush, and then closed his eyes for the inevitable punch he was certain was moments away, but never came. Instead, he felt Erick squeeze his package once more before withdrawing his hand.
“Well, at least you’re starting to fill it out nicely,” he said with the same smirk as before. “But doesn’t look like you’re done yet. Want to get lunch with me?”
Shocked, but relieved, Kurt could only nod. Then, without looking back to ensure he was being followed, Erick turned and lumbered towards the cafeteria. Erick quickly fell into step with him, trying to ignore the rather insistent erection that Erick’s one squeeze had left him with.
The cafeteria was crowded, which was both a good and bad thing. It was good in that the crush of bodies would obscure the outline of Kurt’s cock, which although he hadn’t looked to check, was surely visible given how tight his pants felt.
It was bad in that Erick felt no compunction for using his bulk to muscle his way through the line.
By the time they got the counter Erick had already gotten two trays and piled them as high as he could with whatever was available: burgers, fries, chips, cookies, you name it. When he was done with one tray he started on the other and did the exact same thing. Kurt was flabbergasted - he knew Erick was big, and could assume he had an equally big appetite, but this was ridiculous!
Kurt purchased a more modest burger, fries, and regular sized drink and then followed Erick to an empty table. Erick immediately dug in and then pushed one of the overladen trays over to Kurt. “You’re going to eat this,” he said through mouthfuls of fries.
Kurt blinked. “What? That’s impossible! Nobody can eat that much at once!”
Erick kept eating but paused for a moment to say, “Sure you can,” and then he winked.
It seemed insane, but Kurt just shrugged and dug into his burger. When he’d finished he was surprised to find himself still hungry, so he took a second burger from the tray Erick had bought. When that too failed to sate his appetite he reached for a slice of pizza, then a 6-inch sub, then a bag of chips. Soon he was devouring bits of every food imaginable while guzzling from a two-liter jug of pop.
Kurt seemed to be in trance, unaware of the massive pig he was making of himself. He was equally unaware of how his shirt was slowly riding up his expanding dome of a belly, or how his entire body was rising higher in his seat as his thighs and ass thickened. Tears were appearing on his sleeves as his arms grew to the size of most men’s legs, and dark hair was beginning to creep up from his chest to start coating his neck before running down to cover his forearms. The 3-day stubble turned into a week-long growth, while his cheeks and chin inflated to the point where it appeared his head was directly attached to his massive barrel torso.
By the time he finished the last crumb of food off his two trays, Kurt was enormous. His pants seemed painted on, tears appearing all up and down his legs while his love handles spilled over the sides. His shirt now seemed more like a sports bra, covering his curvaceous chest but leaving everything else in the open air. It seemed like he was moments away from bursting out of everything he wore.
Kurt was easily north of 300 pounds and probably close to Erick’s mass. Very close.
“Nice work, big guy,” Erick said while daintily wiping his mouth with a napkin. He’d done a fair job of eating his entire tray as well, the button on his jeans straining but holding. Unlike Kurt’s which had long since burst off.
Kurt seemed almost drunk, his head wobbling and eyes unfocused. He didn’t even acknowledge what Erick had said until he stood up and suggested they find someplace more private. Kurt didn’t know what that could mean, but he unsteadily got to his feet and lumbered after Erick as he left the cafeteria.