The Gentlemen's Club part 2 of 3

By Voodooweaver - voodooweaver@gmail.com
published June 13, 2015
Summary

Joe meets the man of his dreams, but the Club’s power is stronger than what he thought.

(Part two of the series. As always please leave any feedback. If you wish to contact me with any personal messages you can do so at voodooweaver@gmail.com Next and final chapter will hopefully be next Saturday if not then definitely the next Saturday)

Chapter 2:

It was about an hour later that he was awoken by a phone call. Reaching to his nightstand where he kept his phone he answered gazing at the alarm clock and wondering who was calling at 10 o’ clock in the morning.

“He…hello?” he answered groggily.

“Mr Joe Brown we are calling from X-Plode records and we are pleased to announce that YOU are the lucky winner of the “Opening Doors” draw. You get to spend an evening with Matt Brody. Congratulations Mr Brown!”

It took him a second to take the information in. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming before replying

“Really? That’s amazing, thank you!” he replied.

“Normally the dinner would have been scheduled for next month but due to a change in the dates of the upcoming tour of “Opening Doors” we kindly ask that you meet with Mr Matt Brody tonight. We hope this is not inconvenient”

His happiness was shattered as he remembered his current situation. “Uh look is there no way we can reschedule it for another date? I don’t mind waiting for even after they come back. I’m just not in a…. state to be going out right now” he replied as he gazed at the giant gut that stuck up from his midsection forming a perfect dome, his outtie belly button pointing to the ceiling.

“I’m sorry Mr Brown but we will not be able to rearrange this due to the fact that the tour will last for three months, and the prize is only valid for one month. If you are unable to attend we can have another draw and some other lucky person will get to meet with Mr Brody. We could send you some posters and a signed T-shirt as a compensation gift if you want” The words echoed through Joe’s mind and stabbed at his heart.

“No no….it will be fine for tonight. Where will I meet him?” he enquired

“There is a reservation at the Crystal Room restaurant for eight o’ clock tonight sir. All food and drink is paid for and the whole meeting will last until 10 o’ clock so that gives you two hours with Mr Brody. Please bring your I.D for identification at the restaurant. Do you know the location of the restaurant?”

At the sound of the words Crystal Room Joe went wide-eyed. It was a very fancy restaurant where only the elite went to eat. One needed to reserve months in advance and a big wallet.

“Yes I do, I will be there don’t worry” he chuckled a fake laugh as he said goodbye to the caller and placed the receiver back in its place. With a grunt, Joe rolled to the side of the bed and with a another grunt lifted himself and sat at the edge of the bed, feeling his gut resting on his lap. Looking down he saw the huge dome that was beginning to dominate his figure. He placed one hand on his gut suprised at how hard it felt. He poked at it and tried pushing it in slightly; it was no suprise that the gut remained there, smooth and round. He had to find a solution to what had happened to him, and soon if he was going to meet Matt Brody. With a further grunt, he lifted himself off the bed and after taking a few moments to steady himself began to search through his wardrobe for anything that would serve as clothing for now. It only took him a second to gaze at each individual piece of clothing to realise that it would not fit his now larger frame. It was only when he came across a sweatshirt and sweatpants that he ended his search. He got dressed, the sweatshirt covering only half of his gut while the other half lay exposed.

The rest of the day was spent in a manic frenzy. He spent hours upon hours trying to find a cure for his “ailment” online. He tried googling “sudden age progression”, “sudden weight gain and wrinkles”, even “I turned fifty overnight” but to no avail. There was nothing that could help him. He kept glancing at the clock on the wall as the hours ticked away, time continuing its endless march and ignoring Joe’s silent begs for more time, as morning turned to midday and midday turned to afternoon. In his desperation he had considered going to the gym, dieting, going to a beautician but realised that not only could he not afford to do so, but these would in no way provide a solution until tonight, and perhaps not ever. He wondered if he would ever regain his old youthful look again. He wracked his brain but could simply find no way to revert the changes he had undergone. It was around 7 o’ clock at night when Joe gave up; he decided that he would not go to the dinner with Matt Brody. For one thing he did not want to be seen in this state, second he had no clothes to wear and third he had tried to look for his I.D card all over the house but could not find it. He remembered that he had placed it in his jean pocket last night, but it was no longer there. He wondered if it had fallen out at the club amidst last night’s chase. He was about to call the restaurant and inform that he would not be turning up for the dinner when there was a knock on the door. He wondered who it could be; his neighbours certainly had never knocked on his door before.

“Who is it?” he called out, but there was no answer. He tried once more but his call was met with silence. He slowly opened the door and looked around. He was somewhat relieved that no one was at the door. His gaze fell upon a black bag that was sitting in front of his doorstep. He hurriedly dragged it into the apartment, closing the door behind him, not wanting anyone to see him. He opened the bag to find a set of clothes, including grey pants, black leather shoes with matching socks, a white shirt, a grey suit, a plum tie, a tie pin and some Y-shaped briefs.

“Who would send this to me? And why?” he wondered. On the side of the bag he found a note which read: “To our newest member, best regards The Gentlemen’s Club”

“The club…. FUCK they know where I live!” he said, feeling his heart beginning to race. He tried to remember all about the ride back home last night, and distinctly remembered not being followed. Joe realised with horror that regardless of how, the club knew where he lived and that they could come for him at any minute; staying at home was no longer safe. He studied the clothes thoroughly. They seemed like they were made for his new size. Joe decided that it would be a good idea to get out of the house and go to the dinner. For one thing staying at home would simply be too dangerous and also he would have time to think about his next plan of action. He would simply be a sitting duck staying at home.

Getting dressed was much more of an odyssey than what Joe had anticipated. His large frame restricted his movements and putting on the pants, socks and shoes was extremely difficult as his large gut prevented him from leaning too far in front. Sitting down he realised that he had to hold his breath while he was putting them on in order to lean forwards as far as possible. After what seemed like ages, he began to put on the shirt. He sucked in his gut as much as he could as he began to button the shirt buttons, leaving the top one undone. He tucked the shirt into the pants and fastened the belt. Even the first hole felt tight around his waist. Once he was done he breathed out, and like a hot air balloon filling up with air, his gut expanded, filling up the white shirt and creating a white sphere on his midsection, defying gravity and stretching the white shirt. The shirt was tight, wrapped around his gut with no extra room at all. He picked up the tie and held it close to his neck. With a face filled with resentment he tossed the plum tie to the floor. He had always hated ties; he always found them pretentious and besides the only reason he was wearing these clothes was because they were the only clothes that fit him and would allow him to leave the flat. He looked at himself as he put the suit on.

There he stood. Dressed like a fifty year old business man. From his balding head, to his tired face gazing back at him to the large gut jutting out into the air, Joe could hardly recognise himself. It did not help that the suit was dark coloured and thus had a slimming effect on limbs, while the shirt was a brilliant white and was all the more pronounced against the dark suit. He wondered what Matt would think when he met him.

“You’re a fucking idiot Joe for even trying this” he said to himself in the mirror

“But I know I will never forgive myself if I let this chance go by. I will think of what to do when I get back” he assured himself as he ran a hand through the top part of his head, trying to flatted the sparse covering of dry hairs so that his scalp was much less pronounced. As some fine hairs came off in his hand he decided that this was the best he could do and he left the flat. He got into his car only moments later, set his seat even further back to accommodate his gut and glancing around to see if anyone was watching him, began his drive to the Crystal Room.

Within half an hour Joe had arrived at the Crystal Room. He was already starving remembering that he had not eaten anything all day from worrying himself sick. He noticed expensive European brands of cars in the parking lot, and wondered how amazing it must be to own a prestigious car. He clenched the steering wheel with both hands as he parked between two expensive looking cars, knowing that if he even so much as made a dent in one he would be spending the rest of his life repaying the debt. With his mission accomplished he opened the door and realised all too late that he had parked too close to one of the cars. He struggled to squeeze his large frame out his car and maneuver his way through the narrow space between his and the neighbouring car. It was like trying to drive the Titanic through the Suez canal. His large gut rubbed against the neighbouring car as he made his way out of the narrow space, and as he finally walked onto open ground, he made his way to the Crystal Room entrance. A handsome waiter stood outside.

“Hi, my name is Joe Brown I’m here to see Matt Brody” he stated, not even believing that the day he would utter those words had finally come.

“Of course sir may I have some ID?” the waiter politely and coolly responded much to Joe’s disappointment. He had secretly hoped that the waiter would not have asked for his I.D.

“Uh…. I honestly don’t have it with me” he replied. “The person that called me never mentioned that I would have to bring ID. And I live across town, it would take me over an hour to go and get it” he lied. He knew very well that even if he had managed to find his I.D card, he no longer looked anything like the photo on the card and that presenting it would simply get him into a load of trouble. The waiter hesitated.

“Very well. Though I will have a word with them later on. They can’t be sending people to a respectable restaurant like the Crystal Room and expect us to let anyone in without identification” he replied.

“No no you should do that” Joe replied trying to appease the waiter. The waiter calmly opened the door and Joe entered. Joe looked at his surroundings and let out a low whistle. The place looked wonderful, with walls painted a deep magenta, while modern abstract paintings, furniture and any other decorations added gold, silver and black tones to the environment. He noticed that at the time that there were very few people inside, though any free tables had a label that said “RESERVED” on it. From the few people there he recognised a couple of celebrities; a famous news anchor, two famous actors, some male and female fashion designers. He felt self conscious. What was he doing here? Especially looking the way he was. He had a change of heart, he could not do this, but before he could turn and leave he was greeted by another waiter who led him to the back of the restaurant where there was a large semi circular booth with dark red velvet curtains around it. Inside the booth was a carved wooden table with plates, glasses and eating utensils perfectly laid out. Sitting at one side of the table was none other than Matt Brody himself. Joe felt his knees go weak as he realised that he was only seconds away from meeting his idol. Matt’s jet black spiky hair slashed through the air like a raven’s wings and framed his angular chiseled perfectly proportioned face, while his tight t-shirt and pants clung to his chiseled body. Joe felt his heart race as he realised that not only did he admire Matt, but now was attracted to him sexually. He was looking at a menu and had still not noticed Joe.

“Your guest has arrived sir” announced the waiter, and Matt lifted his gaze from the menu and looked straight at Joe, his deep green eyes piercing and frigid. Matt lifted both brows in astonishment at the sight of Joe.

“Sure… have a seat bud” gestured Matt to the opposite chair and continued to look at the menu, unimpressed.

Joe pulled the chair from the table, taking a second to judge how far he should do so to make sure that he had enough room to actually sit down without his gut knocking over the table. He sat down in the opposite chair which creaked under his weight. His gut touched the table edge and Joe felt cramped. Yet there was no more space for his chair to move backwards. He looked at Matt who continued gazing at the menu. “Can I just say that it is an honour to meet you Matt. I like to consider myself your biggest fan” he declared with a big smile on his face, completely star struck and trying to contain his enthousiasm.

“With that gut you may very well be” Matt replied and went back to looking at the menu completely disinterested and unfazed. Joe was caught off guard by the rudeness of the comment but decided to ignore it chuckling ackwardly. Perhaps Matt had had a tiring day, he thought to himself.

They both took a minute to observe the menu and the waiter came and asked them for their order. Joe found himself ordering at least three different dishes, while Matt ordered a salad. “I….um… haven’t really had anything to eat all day” said Joe ackwardly.

“Sure sure, you do look like someone who is often deprived of food” said Matt, his eyes falling once more to Joe’s gut. Joe tried to shift the conversation.

“So Matt your idea of giving your fans the chance to meet you was brilliant. How did you come up with it?” Joe asked.

“Wasn’t my idea was the record company’s idea” he said coldly. “Company needed some extra money so it decided to set up the draw”. Joe was shocked.

The ackward conversation continued, with Matt making jabs at Joe for his age and gut every so often. Joe felt uncomfortable and heartbroken. He was so disappointed with Matt’s behaviour and wondered if he had been younger and cooler if Matt would have treated him differently. He had arrived at the dinner wanting to know more about Matt, his profession, his likes and dislikes and to show Matt his appreciation about how his and his band’s music help get Joe through the long lonely nights. Yet the only thing Joe had learned about Matt was that he was an asshole. A big gaping one at that.

The dishes came after about 15 minutes and both men began to eat in ackward silence. Joe was amazed at how splendid the food tasted. It seemed as if his sense of taste and smell seemed heightened; each bite was an explosion of taste in his mouth and the smell of the food was causing him to flare his nostrils. Joe did not take long to devour all three dishes savouring each and every bit of food that he swallowed. It was not long before he found himself ordering more and more food while Matt grazed on a small simple salad. A part of Joe was telling him that he had to stop, that him indulging in this way was not going to help him lose the weight and he was making a bad impression on Matt and reaffirming Matt’s jokes. But another part of him just wanted to keep on going. He was starving and the taste and smell of the food was too good to pass on, plus he had made a bad impression on Matt the second he sat at the table, there was no saving it now. Plus there was simply no talking to Matt, the conversation had run dry despite Joe’s efforts. So he continued to eat at his heart’s content and was amazed at his ability to keep eating without feeling even remotely full. It was halfway through the meal that Matt’s phone rang.

“Yeah?” he enquired as he answered the phone. “Oh wow. Nice, nice” he said. “So you’re right there now? Yeah I can be there soon. Let me get out of something and I will be there. Yeah see you soon bud”. He closed the phone and looked at Joe.

“Ok bud well hope you had fun. It’s time I cut loose. Band has gathered up with some nice girls and I need to get some nice booty before going on tour. You know what I mean” he said as he was about to get up.

Joe looked at the clock on the wall. Barely an hour had passed since the beginning of the dinner. “But I thought the dinner was supposed to last until eleven o’ clock, and it’s not even ten” he stated, as he felt his heart sink to new levels of disappointment, a feeling that he never would have guessed was possible given Matt’s rudeness.

Matt sighed. “So wait you want me to sit here for the whole two hours with you? What’s the point? Plus I got better things to do like tapping some ass. You know what that feels like yeah? Or has it been so long since a fat boy like you got lucky with the ladies?” he enquired. He then had a glimmer in his eyes and he cracked a faint smile. “Fine fine. I don’t want this getting back to the record company. So…..let’s put a small bet shall we? A drinking competition. If you win, I stay till eleven. If I win, I walk out of here and you get to say nothing to noone. Got it?” he enquired not even waiting for Joe to answer as he called to a waiter to bring their finest vodka.

Joe knew that he was not going to be able to win, and asked himself if it was all worth it. The waiter was prompt to bring the large vodka bottle and two shot glasses. Matt poured the vodka in both shots and raised his glass. “Bottoms up” he said as he drank the shot all in one go, and Joe followed.

The competition continued, shot after shot. In the space of fifteen minutes they had drank close to ten shots, and Matt kept pouring. Joe was oddly unaffected by the alcohol, though he could see Matt was passing from tipsy to getting hammered. Joe wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he had a full dinner and was still eating, while Matt simply had the salad in his stomach. Joe was reaching the point of slowing down with his dinner and felt his pants and shirt even tighter than before. Plus he needed to pee badly. He glanced at the large vodka bottle which was now half empty.

“Matt I need to use the restroom, so pause on the drinking and I will be right back ok?” he said as he tried to get up as gracefully as he could and exit the booth.

“Sssssuuuuuurreeeeeee” slurred Matt as he poured another shot into his glass and drank it, oblivious to the fact that Joe was no longer at the table. Joe made his way to the restroom, his large gut leading the way, stuffed and bloated. He felt him struggling to walk properly in a straight line, and wondered if it was the effect of the alcohol, the effect of all the food in his gut weighing him down, or a combination of both. He could feel the shirt clinging to his gut even tighter and with every heavy step he took he could feel the fabric rub against his smooth gut, reminding him of how fat he was. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Walking into the restroom, he was glad to see that it was empty and made his way to the mirrors. To his horror he was right, he had overdone it with the food. His gut was now extremely bloated, stretching the shirt to the point where the buttons were on the verge of losing their battle to contain his gut and were digging into his gut. Small ovals of flesh could be seen peeking through the buttons. The weight of the gut was actually pulling him forward and making him slouch, and he had to throw back his shoulders in order to counter the heavy weight in front, and although that made him achieve better balance, it also made his gut more pronounced. Not wanting to look anymore at the damage that he had caused himself, he entered a cubicle. He instinctively went to unzip his pants but realised that he would have to pee sitting down once more. He then used one hand to reach below his gut and with the other undo the button on his pants. In moving his gut upwards, he felt the shirt buttons again digging into his flesh, and decided to undo the lower buttons on his shirt, in an effort to alleviate some of the pain the buttons were causing him. He watched as his round gut, now free and without any constraints, surged forward. He heard his zipper come undone as the lower part of his gut forced the zipper open. He breathed easier, but was astounded by how bloated he was. He placed a hand on the smooth gut and felt it rock hard. He tried to calculate how much food he had actually stuffed into himself but was unable to do the math. He maneuvered himself around and sat on the toilet, and soon enough he heard the slow trickle or urine down the toilet. Looking down and gazing at the large dome, he wondered if he would ever lose all this extra weight, if he would ever be young again, if he would ever be able to see his dick without the use of a mirror. Then again, he thought, did he truly want to see his dick in its current state? His once proud penis had shrunk to not even half its original size. He heard a faint sound from his gut and realised that he had to burp. He tried to contain it, but it simply was too strong and escaped his mouth, echoing through the restroom. He thanked his lucky stars again that the restroom was empty.

After a few moments, Joe was done, and got up to try and get dressed again. He started by trying to do the buttons on his shirt, and he pulled and stretched the sides of the shirt in an effort to get the fabric to wrap itself around his gut. It was only when he took a deep breath that he managed to get the shirt buttons to close, barely. Without exhaling, Joe managed to also button up his pants and let out a slow exhalation and watched as his gut grew to fill up the shirt. He could feel the sound of the buttons and fabric straining as they tried to contain his gut, an almost impossible task, much like Atlas holding up the world. He was finding it hard to breathe, and realised that anymore stress on the shirt and he would be kissing those buttons goodbye. He exited the cubicle washed his hands, trying to avoid looking at himself in the mirror.

He made his way to where he and Matt were sitting. Walking with his shoulders thrown back certainly helped his walk be more stable. He could feel the air against the areas in between his shirt buttons, a cool sensation on his smooth gut. He arrived to the private cubicle where he and Matt were sitting, and he saw Matt pouring another shot into his glass, the vodka bottle now completely empty. Matt had continued to drink alone all this time. He looked completely wasted.

“Matt are you sure you’re ok? Let’s call this off and you can leave. I don’t want you to get drunk and drive” Joe said but Matt raised a limp hand.

“Nonshenshe” he slurred. “No way I’ll loshhee to a fifty year old fart” he said groggily as he drank the last shot, the effort in trying to aim the glass to his lips evident. Joe wondered how his life had become such a huge mess in the last 48 hours. First becoming older, fat and bald, and now watching his idol get totally hammered and making an ass of himself. Joe was lost in thought when he saw the last plate that he had ordered, yet untouched. The smell was permeating the air and tickling his nostrils. He knew that he shouldn’t eat anymore, that there were more pressing matters at hand, but oddly enough even though he knew he was full, he had to have more food. He began to eat again, oblivious to the whole world around him, feeling every mouthful excite his taste buds, and letting out low groans as he swallowed. It was within minutes that he had eaten the entire plate. He lay back and let out a huge exhalation, and to his horror the sound of the buttons against his shirt and pant fabric returned, even louder. Three loud popping noises where heard and then a fourth much louder one. He felt the strain on his gut gone, and he realised that he had lost the three lower buttons on his shirt and even worse, the button on his pants. His gut lay exposed, the smooth stretched skin reflecting the strong overhead lighting. He looked around in horror but noticed that there was no one in the vicinity, the place was still relatively empty. He wondered about how he was going to fix this. Joe’s thoughts were interrupted when he noticed that Matt had completely passed out on the table, his one arm still clinging to the shot glass while the other holding the now empty vodka bottle. Joe realised that it was time he and Matt left. This had gotten out of hand. Joe called to the waiter who came promptly and had a worried look on his face at the sight of Matt’s face spread out on the table, while his eyes bulged out at the sight of Joe slouched backwards, his gut sticking out into the air.

“Um we had a small accident. We kinda got carried away” he said. The waiter still continued to gaze at Joe’s gut. Joe continued “Food was really really good, compliments to the chef” he said sheepishly. The waiter still did not respond. Joe continued “Look, we need to get out of here and now. He’s drunk, I lost my buttons and we need to get out of here. Is there a way I can remove him from the restaurant without anyone seeing him?” Joe asked.

“I….I suppose….. we have a back door just for these occassions. But I can’t let you leave like that you are indecent” he said and pointed to Joe’s gut.

“Fine give me your nametag” Joe demanded.

“My nametag?” enquired the waiter. “What are you planning to do with it?” “Just do it for crying out loud!” demanded Joe as he could hear people pouring into the restaurant. The waiter obeyed, and Joe was quick to remove the safety pin and with a deep breath, he used it to fasten his pants. He dared not breathe out completely. He then did the bottom button on his suit, which helped to conceal the exposed gut.

“There that is done, now help me move him to my car” demanded Joe. The waiter hesitated for a moment. “But he is supposed to go in his limousine, which will be here in about half an hour” he said looking at his watch.

“You would rather leave him here and have him exposed to all the celebrities that are beginning to arrive?” asked Joe as he pointed to guests that were already pouring in the restaurant. “Can you imagine the damage to his reputation, and YOURS if this gets out?” he asked the waiter who after a few brief seconds nodded in understanding. Joe got up and wrapped Matt’s arms around his shoulders and the waiter promptly aided, obviously going along with the plan. Matt was lighter than Joe thought and with the aid of the waiter they succeeded in getting Matt out of the cubicle and out the restaurant into Joe’s car, hopefully without anyone noticing. After the waiter left, Joe got into the car, and began searching Matt’s pockets for anything that would reveal a home address. As he was searching through the pockets of Matt’s pants he encountered Matt’s substantial package, and Joe whistled in awe as he realised Matt must have a humongous cock and wished he could taste it. He shook his head.

“Not NOW Joe for crying out loud” he said to himself as he continued his search. The search yielded nothing, and so Joe decided it was best to drive Matt to his home. Once sober and awake Matt would be able to get a taxi or something to his own place, Joe thought. And good riddance, he added. Calling the record company and trying to explain everything would have simply caused more trouble, he thought.

Joe began the long drive back to his place. He was lucky it was 11:00, and there were not many cars or people on the streets. He would have hated it if in his efforts to save Matt from humiliation he unwillingly exposed him even more. Within half an hour, Joe had parked his car beneath the block of flats he lived in, and with a lot of struggling, huffing and puffing had managed to carry Matt to his apartment, closing the door behind him. Matt was still out cold, there were no signs that he was going to be sobering up anytime soon, so Joe decided to lay Matt on his bed and let him sleep his drunkenness out. He carried Matt to his bedroom and laid him on the bed, taking off his shoes. Matt was soundly asleep, oblivious to everything that was going on.

Joe momentarily thought of spending the night on the couch, but thought it would be a better idea to remain close to Matt in case Matt tried to vomit in his sleep. Joe eagerly got undressed, remaining only in his white Y-shaped briefs, happy that he was no longer stuffed into the tight suit, his large gut completely exposed. He sat on the side of the bed and then rolled over to lay down close to Matt, the bed creaking under the weight of the two men. It was not long before Joe was also asleep, exhausted from the adventures of the day.

Joe was awakened by a shifting sensation on the bed, and he opened his eyes to see Matt had rolled over in his sleep, and was now lying face to face with him, his body only inches away from Joe’s own body. Joe looked at Matt’s face in the moonlight, and cracked a faint smile. Matt looked almost angelic as he slept, and so handsome. He wondered how such a handsome guy could develop such a horrible character. Joe felt his heart begin to beat faster. He was so attracted to Matt. With his heart still pounding, Joe decided to steal a kiss from Matt. It was perhaps taking slight advantage of Matt, Joe thought, but he was entitled to it after the horrible way Matt had treated him and after Joe helped save his ass from being exposed as a drunken fool. He slid one hand under Matt’s t-shirt and raised it, exposing Matt’s flat six pack abs and chest and then placed his hand on the small of Matt’s back. Joe inched his large frame forward, his large gut now pressing against Matt’s midsection. He felt the warmth of Matt’s body on his own. He pushed Matt’s body closer with his hand, Joe’s large outtie against Matt’s flat innie bellybutton. Joe felt an odd warm sensation in his gut, and thought it was simply Matt’s body heat on his own body. He leaned forward and kissed Matt. Joe thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Matt’s lips tasted wonderful. He pulled his lips away from Matt’s and continued to gaze at him, completely elated, and infatuated.

Joe continued to gaze at Matt, completely lost in the beauty of his face. He wished that he could remain like this forever. He began to dream about how wonderful it would be if Matt accepted him, if he would allow Joe to come with him on his tours, and every night fall asleep in his arms. His thoughts were interrupted by a low farting sound emanating from Matt’s backside. Matt then released a low long burp in his sleep. Joe raised his eyebrows; not the most romantic end to the night, he thought. He had never heard of alcohol making someone gassy. Joe squinted to get a better look at Matt, and looking at Matt’s face Joe realised something was wrong. Matt looked tired and worn. And the odd warm sensation in Joe’s gut that he had tried to ignore had not subsided but had instead intensified. Joe looked down at his gut and gasped. His gut was there alright, but it was now pressing against a substantial gut that had formed on Matt. Matt’s gut was pressing against his own gut and was slowly growing right before his eyes, the two mounds of fat battling for space on the bed. Joe panicked and pushed himself away from Matt’s body. He felt his protruding outtie button exiting Matt’s now deeper innie bellybutton. Once that was done. the warm sensation inside Joe’s gut was gone. Joe got off the bed, stood and looked around panicking.

“Why is he getting fatter? What did I do?” he whispered in a panic. “Did this have something to do with it?” he asked himself as he placed both of his hands on his large gut. “What do I do now?” he wondered as he looked at Matt again. Matt had developed a substantial gut which now had slowed down its growth. Joe estimated it to be around fourty inches round. His brightly coloured t-shirt was clinging onto the gut, making it even more pronounced. Looking at Matt’s face he realised that Matt had developed a double chin and on his chest instead of the two firm pecs he had seen earlier, sat the beginnings of two moobs.

“I can’t leave him like this. What do I do?” he wondered. “The club…. that’s the only place where they can stop this. I’ll go and demand that they change us back to normal, or I’ll expose them” he said in determination. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 2:30 AM. He wondered if he should wait till the morning but decided that it would be better to go immediately. First there would not be any people on the road and second he did not want to stick around to see how Matt would continue to change. The faster he got there the faster they could be changed back to normal. With dismay he put his shirt, suit and pants on, fastening the safety pin again, and with great effort lifted the now heavier Matt and dragged him again down to his car, huffing and puffing.

Within ten minutes Joe was driving Matt towards the club. About halfway through the journey, Matt let out a low belch and fart again. As Joe pulled the windows down he began to think; he never thought that he would ever be driving again in the direction of the club. He was afraid of what might happen, but mustered up some courage; if anyone was to reverse what happened it would be Lionel. It was one thing for him to suffer through this, but the thought of his idol going through the same chances was unbearable. There was no other option. Joe looked sideways in Matt’s direction and gasped. Matt was still asleep, but the changes had taken their toll on him. Joe noticed Matt’s gut was now much rounder and was pulling his tight t-shirt up, exposing his smooth skin. Joe estimated it to be around fourty five inches. It was beginning to resemble Joe’s own gut. Atop the large gut Joe noticed through the shirt that two significant moobs had developed sitting on the shelf that was Matt’s gut. Joe also began to hear a loud grating rumbling, and realised that Matt was beginning to snore. Another car passed them in the opposite lane, and the headlights shined onto Matt’s face. Matt’s head was balding, his once copious amounts of black hair now sparse and thinning at the top, the slightly exposed bits of skin reflecting the other car’s headlights. Joe needed to hurry

“Fuck me where is it?” he exclaimed as he pulled into the street where the club was. He looked around in a panic and he finally noticed the large Victorian building that he was looking for. It was now or never…….

To be continued

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