NSFW: Yes

Kink?: Yes (Weight gain)

Co-written by GorgingGeorge

Around forty years ago, Lego City was a lot smaller, the bridges connecting the city to the forests and rural Fort Meadows were under construction, the two surrounding islands were barren with nothing but a few trees and some wildlife and most notably, the famed multibillionaire, Forrest Blackwell was a naive young man. 

He didn't think he had to worry about anything, especially when it came to his favourite foods. He had quite a sweet tooth, his parents would always have to keep a spare suit jacket handy whenever he got cake crumbs or icing on his suit. Since he was still in his twenties, the most he got was a little bloat after a binging session. 

Today he was waiting in an art studio to be painted. "Will this take long?" 

The artist, Basil Lupelli immediately brought him to a stool. "What a lovely figure you have, so sleek, yet not at all gaunt. You are like a fragile glass figurine that could break apart if one were to handle you too roughly." He praised to Blackwell. "I believe this shall be my greatest work of art yet."

"It better be, I'm paying you a lot for this portrait." Blackwell stated as sat on the stool provided to him. After many hours, the portrait was completed. It was glorious, the shading was impeccable, and it looked like he was looking in a mirror.  

"My, this really does capture my beauty." The young billionaire stated looking at the painting. "Thank you, but I was only capturing what I saw." Basil stated humbly.   

"Still, it's immaculate. Oh, this will look lovely above my fireplace." Forrest exclaimed as he paid for the painting before getting out of there with it. He admired the painting every day, from its beauty and soul. 

However, something happened when he turned thirty. He started retaining some weight from his binging. "This won't due..." He uttered to himself as he looked at his body in the mirror. He had gained about twenty pounds over the years, and now it was starting to show, especially in his torso.   

But then, an idea formed in his head. "There has to be a way around this." He thought before doing something reasonable. Selling his soul to the devil for eternal beauty and skinniness.

He looked up towards the portrait Basil made for him when he was younger, how fit he looked back then. Now his suit was getting tighter, already he needed to get his trousers refitted to fit snuggly around his growing waistline. "If this keeps up, the painting will be the only reminder of what I used to look like." Blackwell thought. "Oh, how I wish I could stay lean and beautiful forever, even as my hair turns gray, I will always look my best. If only the painting were the one to gain all this excessive weight." 

The multibillionaire sighed as he went to his bedroom, stripping out of his suit. "I would be able to eat all I want without any consequences, it's not my fault my parents made a fortune on all those sweet shops." Blackwell thought, taking one last look at himself in his room's mirror, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. "I hope tomorrow will be better." 

As he dozed away, the portrait's frame darkened, as if black tendrils were coming out from the metal and wrapping around Blackwell's painting. The young man was still peacefully sleeping as his wish came true, the moment he awoke, his belly was just as flat as it was before. "Am I dreaming?" He thought, sitting up to get a better look. "This is reality, I have regained my former physique!" 

Blackwell didn't waste any time, he had his servants bring up his usual suit and was delighted to have it fit perfectly on him. "I'll have a small breakfast, two croissants, a stack of crepes with strawberries and a latte." He ordered to his servants.

After breakfast he noticed that he was barely bloated, which usually happened when he ate. As he sipped his latte, Blackwell noticed the painting on the wall. It was like it morphed into what he looked like last night.  

"this can't actually be happening. Not that I don't like this situation, it's just too good to be true." He pondered, taking another sip from his cup. 

As the day went on, he noticed something. His appetite was a bit larger. He noticed this from his stomach growling loudly as the clock reached four PM. Usually, breakfast filled him up, to the point he could work through the day without eating lunch.

"That's odd, I'm usually not hungry at this time..." He muttered. He didn't want to press his luck with his fit body, but his belly was growling so loudly it was disrupting his work. "... I suppose a small snack would be nice." Blackwell stated to himself.  

With that he got himself a little treat, a slice of butter cake and a cup of chamomile tea. He didn't want to press his luck with this satanic gift, but he really wanted some cake after something with in him said to have some. As he ate, he noticed the portrait was getting a little fatter with every forkful of cake he ate.

"The portrait takes all of my weight, but a single slice of luscious butter cake shouldn't result in immediate weight gain. Oh, it's probably just some bloat, in a while the painting's midsection will go down as well." Blackwell tried to reassure himself. He was too busy enjoying such a rich yet heavy dessert. 

Despite how many calories it had, the cake didn't do much to fill him out either. Something inside him was telling him to eat more. "I should wait, my parents are coming over tonight to ask about my new business venture. I'm working on a bridge leading the new uptown to the forests." He thought, trying his hardest to ignore his growling belly. He made a note to his servants to make double portions at dinner. 

Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell haven't seen their son in years, not since he moved out to his own mansion. The last they heard was how he's gone into the business of construction. "I just hope he hasn't made a pig out of himself since he left." 

"Dear, our little Forrest can pace himself. I'm sure of it." Blackwell's mother insisted. "You're being too hard on him. You need to have more faith in our boy." 

Blackwell's father just scoffed. "I still have my doubts. Ah, here he comes now. At the very least he hasn't let himself go." 

"Mother? Father? Do come in." Blackwell tried to stay focused despite all the food smells surrounding him.

As the three conversed, Forrest was having a hard time focusing on the conversation. He made notes about his business venture and all, but he couldn't help but feel the same something within him calling him, trying to lure him to stuff himself since he has this permanently skinny body, like a beast of gluttony forming inside of him. 

Soon enough, after they talk for what felt like hours, they were able to have dinner. But, as he ate the chicken breast plated in front of him, he started having intrusive thoughts. 

"What if I just shoved this into my gullet... No! I shouldn't, at least not in front of my parents." He thought, trying to fight those impure thoughts. 

"Um, Forrest, are you alright?" His mother asked. "Ah, yes, I am." 

"Well, that's good... If I may be excused." She added before getting up and going to the bathroom. Unfortunately, on the way there, she came across the painting. "Why on earth would Forrest have something like this...?" She asked herself before returning to the table. She was a bit worried about this, assuming the worst. What would this mean for the family's reputation if people found out that their son had art like that?

She didn't bring it up, not wanting to make a scene in front of Forrest and his father. "We should be going now, it's getting late." She told her husband. "Dear?" 

Forrest cocked his head, on one hand he would be able to eat to his heart's content without anyone looking at him weirdly, but on the other hand why would his mother want to leave so soon? They didn't even stick around for dessert, a massive chocolate tart with fresh whipped cream and powdered sugar on top. "Are you certain?" 

The billionaire's father stood up, but he wasn't going to leave just yet. "Before we go, you should know we may have found the perfect girl for you." He announced. 

 "Erm, a girl?" 

"Why yes, she's from our sister city. Her name is Mary Sinclair. We met her during a meeting with her parents, they're wealthy enough to build an entire tower right in the heart of the city." Forrest's father explained. "She claims she founded the city itself, although someone else says otherwise. Oh well, I want you to meet with her." 

"Again with the marriage? Father, I'm not sure if I'm ready for that sort of commitment..." 

"Now hush you, with the two of you married you will have a combined wealth far into the trillions. As long as you don't spend it all on sweets."Forrest held his tongue as they left, only for a voice to enter his mind. "What does he know? It's not like you'll turn into a fat blob."

"You're right." He thought to this voice in his head. "He doesn't know a thing." He continued to think before letting out a soft sigh. If he gets married to this Mary Sinclair, we could just ignore her. After all, it's not like she would want anything besides money anyway. 

"... I'll consider it." Forrest spoke, just wanting this conversation to be over so he can gorge on the food left over. "Good, we'll arrange for you to meet her."

After a quick hug from his mother, the two older Blackwells departed from the residence, leaving the millionaire to the scraps left from dinner. He wouldn't usual go as low as to eat scraps, but the gluttonous beast within him made him want it. 

He asked the servant in the room to leave the room, not wanting him to see him go feral as he ate with gay abandon. Once the servant was out of the room, he let the gluttonous beast loose, eating the leftover food, not caring if he made a mess of himself as he scarfed down the scraps left over. 

And once he was finished with that, he was not content. "Bring me the chocolate tart. Not a slice of it, the whole tart." He exclaimed to his servant, who rushed to get it. His growing appetite and gluttony were only going to get bigger. 

The servants and cooked watched in awe as their employer didn't even bother to use utensils to eat, he shoved his entire face into the tart like a pig. He even snorted softly as he ate. It was only after he finished eating when he realized what he had done, all the bones, crumbs and dried sauce littered the floor. "Oh god, what have I done?... I satisfied myself." Forrest moaned, rubbing his still flat belly. 

The staff of the mansion all scattered the moment he exited the room. As he went to bathe, he took a glimpse at the painting, now much fatter than before. Its face had a double chin covering his neck, his belly had popped two buttons off his suit and his hips were even wider. Forrest could barely stand to look at the voluptuous version of himself. "Gah, I'll keep this away from everyone. I can eat without consequences, it's just the painting that will gain. Just as long as no one sees it, no one will ever know." 

The millionaire winced just staring at the portrait, it was like it was taunting him. The face even turned into a smirk the more weight piled onto it. Forrest couldn't think about it any longer as he returned to the bathroom, stripping into the bathtub. He sighed softly as his servants cleaned him, feeling the hot water wash all of his worries away. 

In fact, the heat and steam reminded him that tomorrow's breakfast was going to be a souffle filled with molten chocolate. "Everyone will envy the life I have." 

It seemed after every meal, Forrest's appetite will double, eating now gave him more bliss, more pleasure than anything else in the world. He tossed all manners out the window whenever he was alone, stuffing his cheeks with as many fattening, sugary desserts as possible. All he ever wanted to eat now was high calorie meals.

After a few years, and an arranged marriage, Mary and Forrest were now married. At least for now. They agreed to divorce after both of their parents die as to obtain inheritance. However, until then, they lived together in Blackwell's mansion. 

The portrait was the first thing to be talked about when Mary was moving in. "Why do you have that thing?" She asked. "I mean, it makes you look like a pig for God's sake." 

The male billionaire looked up from his paperwork. "I don't see what the issue is, I put it in my office. So, it's not as if you can accidentally see it." Blackwell defended it. 

The current state of the portrait was, well, poor to say the least. Due to Forrest's binge eating of high calorie food, his portrait was bursting out of his clothes. He almost couldn't recognize it being him, not only from how fat it became, but also from how aroused it looked, as if the fat was turning him on.

"I assumed it would have only taken my weight, how is it that the thing's demeanor changed as well." He thought as he took a closer look at it. "Gah, I'm thinking too hard into this. There's no way Basil intended for this to happen, he only painted me. I only made a single wish, and it's going swell. Erm, so well." 

Mary just shrugged as she finished setting up her room, she still couldn't get that odd portrait out of her mind. Why would he ever keep around such an unflattering picture? And was it signed by Basil? Wasn't he supposed to be a well respected, famous artist? "I'll have to get to the bottom of this, Basil has a lot of explaining to do." She thought, however her thoughts were stopped short as the dinner bell rang. 

The dining room was loaded with fancy desserts, entire cakes, heavy cream loaded mousse, a souffle the size of a small table, even a 30-scoop sundae loaded with hot fudge and whipped cream. "You didn't tell me we were having guests over." Mary remarked to the cooks."Oh.. ummm, Master Blackwell didn't tell you?" 

 "Tell me wh-"But before she could finish her sentence, Forrest was stuffing himself with the nearest cake, he was shoving his hands into the pastry, getting crumbs and icing all over his suit.

Sinclair just stared as at her technical husband shovel food down his gullet. It was like a car crash; terrible to watch yet impossible to look away from. After a whole 45 minutes, most of the table was cleared. "I uh..." Mary started, unable to put her thoughts into words. 

Said thoughts are yelling that 'I'm married to this guy?' since she didn't assume he actually was that much of a pig from how skinny he was. But she just watched as he devoured countless calories. 

"Oh, how selfish of me not to offer you any. Mary, do you want some?" Forrest offered. "Uh... No thank you... I'm going out for a bite." 

 "This late?" 

 "I know it's late, but I need to check some urgently." Mary stated before walking out. Without even bothering to ask her anything, Blackwell went back to eating.

The millionaire woman made it out of the house she sighed before going on a man hunt, mainly to find Basil since she didn't want to keep watching Blackwell continue to gorge himself.

Looking through the phone book, she stomped right up to the artist's house. "That painting must be influencing him to make a pig out of himself, I can't think of any other reason as to why he would eat without any worries for his figure." She thought, banging hard on the door. "Basil! You have a lot of explaining to do!" 

Basil was one of the few nonfamily guests at their wedding, although he wanted to do a painting of the newlyweds, Forrest turned down the offer. "Mary? What's gotten into you? I knew young Blackwell wasn't eager to find a wife, but I didn't think you'd be fighting already." 

"Oh it's nothing like that, he's too busy eating to do anything else! And what is with that painting of him? He looks like how he should after all that eating." She snapped. 

"My-my painting? But years ago I made it an exact replica of how he looked in his twenties." Basil explained. "And now you're saying the portrait turned into something unflattering?" 

She wasn't going to wait around to explain, she took his hand and dragged him all the way to the mansion. Blackwell's appetite has gone through the roof now, he was drinking straight up grease even. With each bite he gave a gleeful grin from how much he was eating. "Such bliss, I never want this to end." He was making such of a pig of himself he didn't even notice Mary and Basil going up to his office, at least at first.

"Forrest?" Basil asked, snapping the rich man out of his feeding session. "Ah! Oh you startled me." Blackwell stated as he stifled a burp, trying to keep up apperiences. "Well, Mary said that there was something wrong with the portrait I painted you 20 years ago-" 

"I don't know what she's talking about." 

"What do you mean?! That portrait depicts you looking like a damn blob of lard!" Mary shouted, gesturing above the door. Upon investigation, the painting did indeed show Blackwell, though he was barely recognizable.   

His face had been covered by huge flabby cheeks and a multitude of chins. His arms and legs were hidden under pounds of flab. Hell most of his body was a pale blob of flesh colored paint. The only notable thing was that being exposed, the painting's excitement was on full display. 

"Wha- Are you saying you enjoy gorging yourself?" Mary asked. staring at the paint's privets then looking at Blackwell. "... Yes, and I'm not going to hide it anymore. Eating feels better then any sex I've had. It fills me with more pleasure and ecstasy than ever before." Forrest admitted.

"Well you should have married the wedding cake then, it baffles my mind how something like food could make you this aroused." Mary snorted. "This is ridiculous, eating seems to be the only thing on your mind." 

Basil was shocked, he knew Blackwell enjoyed snacking when they first met, but he clearly had limits and knew when to stop. This new Blackwell now had a black hole for a stomach, he would probably eat his utensils if he was hungry enough. "Forrest, what have you done?" 

The billionaire didn't respond, he just stared hungrily at the two. His mouth was watering, panting like a starving dog. "It's like you've been cursed, you can stay fit but you'll never be satisfied. Like you've become the embodiment of gluttony itself!" Basil squeaked, backing away from his former friend. "If you continue this lifestyle who knows what might happen to you!" 

"You say that like it's a negative thing, having so many heavy, fattening, greasy dishes stuffed down your gullet. All hearing your gut churn as it struggles to digest such a luxurious meal, always craving more. I must have more, I will eat all this world has to put on a plate and I won't let some artist tell me otherwise!" Blackwell declared. He cackled maniacally as he approached Basil, grabbing him by his shoulders. "And you will feed me, if you don't want to be my next meal." 

"P-please Forrest, you have to stop this madness! You're not being yourself-" 

"You don't know anything about me! It's because of your painting that I can live without consequences." Blackwell snarled.

Mary, not wanting this to go any further, decided to do something. "If it's the paint that's causing this, I should try getting rid of it." She thought before quickly finding a stick or something to knock the painting off the wall. 

However, Blackwell noticed her trying to knock down the painting. "Oh no you don't." He hissed, letting go of the artist to try, thinking Basil couldn't take care or things himself. Grabbing both of Mary's shoulders, Blackwell prepared to feast on her. 

"I never thought I'd be eating someone whole, well, I hope you'll taste good." He stated, in a state of lunacy. He was about to put her head in his mouth when a noise was heard. Basil was able to knock the portrait off the wall, causing distress from the male billionaire. "Wait, stop-!" 

Before he could finish his sentence, Basil punched a hole through the center of the canvas of the portrait, destroying the work. "Well, it was a nice piece of work while it lasted." Basil sighed as he looked at the work he ruined. Just as he said this a sudden noise came from Blackwell. A loud gurgling sound.

His belly surged outwards, tearing up his suit. Blackwell's eyes widened as he realized he was fattening up, just like the portrait did before. A loud tear was heard from behind as his ass burst right out of his pants and briefs, jiggling away. Mary managed to pull herself out from under her swelling husband, backing away slowly the more he bloated. His clothes became nothing more than tatters on the floor as more fat piled onto his massive frame. 

All he could do was moan out in pleasure as he continued to swell, his belly had now covered up his flabby thighs, hitting the ground in a matter of seconds. "More~ Don't ever end~" Was all he could say before his face was covered up by cheeks the size of basketballs. Even now with his immobility, he was still growing. 

The two normal sized humans scrambled out of the room, Basil still holding his torn painting. "With how much he has eaten, he just might outsize this entire house." He mumbled, watching as soft fat spilt out of the room, Blackwell was more unrecognizable as ever, nothing more than a mountainous blob of pure blubber. Despite all this, he was immensely turned on, flapping his stubby arms with pure bliss the larger he grew, muffled moaning coming from his mouth. 

The staff all fled as their master's fat body caused the building to crumble, his hard on still very much visible under his gigantic belly.

Mary looked at the mass that was her husband, soon to be ex-husband, disgusted at him. "I can believe he would do this to himself... Come on, Basil, I don't want to look at him anymore." Mary stated as she walked off with the artist.  

As she planned her divorce, Blackwell being rocked back and forth by his servants, trying to roll him. However, he was too heavy for even the mob of servants to move. As he was rocked, he just moaned out in bliss as he edged.   

The movement caused some of Forrest's fat rolls to rub against his cock, causing more moaning from the blob of flesh. Suddenly, and without much warning, his cock erupted cum like a volcano, spraying about 5 feet in front of him.  

But he didn't think about that. He didn't think about much anymore, the only things he thought about were the immense feeling of bliss and pleasure he was in, and how horny he was become being such a fat blob. And most of all... He was finally content.