hedonisticfeedee
Bad Habits | Chapter 9 | Growing Consequences
Published: January 10th 2020, 1:01:00 pm
[Content Warning: This story will include SSBHM weight gain, queer sex, messy eating, drug use, romanticizing abusive relationships, immobility, and extreme obesity related health issues.]
Just a quick FYI, this was 20 pages double-spaced!
Bad Habits
Chapter 9: Growing Consequences
Since the proposal three months ago, changes began to develop rapidly for the gainer and feeder pair. Oliver carefully started planning their wedding without a set date. He frequently used online websites to browse and organize potential guest lists, invitations, catering, music, venues, and more as he’s too heavy to leave the house for prolonged periods of time. Nothing is set yet and since they don’t have a date set, he doesn’t feel rushed. While Oliver outlined the most important day of his life, Dylan arranged every detail of Oliver’s comfort with intentionality. He wasn’t sure Oliver would actually go for immobility, but the reality set in that Oliver struggled to do anything by himself at his current weight. He needed Oliver to be satisfied in his extreme obesity.
They asked each other thoughtful questions like if they really still need duplicate appliances, if they should share their income, and how the division of household labor would work. The biggest question: what to do with Oliver’s expanding body. An apartment was nice while it lasted, but for someone who was virtually housebound, only half by choice, there weren't many opportunities or accommodations. Besides, being married would grant them an excuse to buy a house that could accommodate what Dylan plans to do with Oliver.
Oliver’s parents weren’t too thrilled to hear that their son hadn’t lost any weight, but Dylan secured some money when he called them up and convinced them he was taking care of their baby boy by wanting to buy him his first home. Dylan went for it and bought a house without telling Oliver. The house was physically small, but the space of the home was utilized well. The important part is it had more room to grow than the apartment they started out in years ago. Dylan also took a light portion of Oliver’s parent’s home loan and traded in his old car for a van with seats that went down to give Oliver more space to ride in the back.
Oliver fell in love with both the home and vehicle when he found out, mostly because it made his life easier as his mobility really started to take a hit with his calorie overloads each day. He also appreciated the grand romantic gesture from his soon to be husband. Things became harder and harder for Oliver. Most websites considered bariatric between 300 pounds and 500 pounds, making it challenging to find equipment large enough for Oliver and allow him to grow even more. Dylan did everything in his power to order things that would help Oliver accommodate his girth.
Dylan installed railings for Oliver to hold on to in the wide halls for when he would need to huff and puff down the hall to the bathroom. Dylan knew Oliver needed tools to maneuver his weight, even if he thinks it won’t get much use. He knows how this ends: His precious Ollie-pop living the rest of his life being cared for in bed. Oliver has no self-control. However, for now he still has to get up to use the toilet. This also meant that Dylan equipped the toilet to take a heavier body by making it a bariatric commode. Oliver would have snapped the normal one quickly with his rate of growth. The home’s walk-in shower proved wide enough for him to put in a bariatric shower chair. Dylan learned to take showers with Oliver, if he wanted to keep Oliver’s skin as healthy as possible. In order to keep up with the behemoth’s hygiene, Dylan must get into the shower with his lover and wash all of the body parts that he is getting too obese to reach, making the walk-in shower with a chair a godsend.
During the whole moving process, Oliver got heavier at an even faster rate. He avoided exercise as much as he avoided furniture that he thought would surely snap like a twig under his gargantuan ass. The only furniture he trusted was the sofa or bed, which he took up most of both now. His belly threatened to sag off the edges of both. The perky tits he developed in the beginning now sagged downward and jiggled at every slight movement. Oliver no longer got full. He found himself in a helpless state of perpetual hunger. Dylan reassured him that he could never get too big for him.
In addition to the life changes with moving, Oliver started doing private videos and shows. It didn’t take long for Oliver to become a popular online gainer. His fans loved observing progress photos and videos online, watching Oliver blimp. They knew subscribing to his pages meant he would continue to grow. More money coming in meant extra money for food, gainer shakes, and maltodextrin to add to his desserts. It also meant that he could buy dildos, jock straps, funnels, and other miscellaneous items to use in his videos. Some got pushy and dark with comments about how he lived to eat himself to death for daddy. Others made him eat pure butter. Oliver felt nervous and even uncomfortable at first. Over time the comments and demands gave him a rush. He learned to be open minded and to do anything to impress the fans supplying his sexy underwear and chunky weight gain liquids. In fact, Oliver quickly became one of the most popular gainer pornstars because of his courage to do anything his fans asked.
*~*~*~*
Oliver opens the final box from the move to put away the remainder of the books on the bookshelf in the living room. He looks up at the photographs hung with care on the wall above beside the shelves. All the photos are of Oliver when he was skin and bone. Dylan placed them there to remind them of how far they’ve come in the last three years. A warm feeling comes over Oliver. This isn’t playing house. This is what being domestication feels like with someone who loves him. Oliver chuckles, placing each book on the shelf expeditiously. The move is finally coming to a close and he is too excited to relax with Dylan. They decided to celebrate by having a barbecue and now food is the only thing on Oliver’s mind. Dylan is already out on the deck starting the grill for dinner.
“Ollie pop, can you go to the fridge and bring me the hamburger patties and hot dogs?” Dylan calls out through the screen door.
Oliver waddles to the fridge with excitement. He’s joyous another summer arrives soon and that the weather is nice enough to start cookouts. That is one thing he misses about being around his parents, so he’s glad that this is how they are celebrating. His dad is a grill master, but Dylan convinced Oliver that he can do better. Oliver breathlessly grabs three packs of hot dogs and two packs of ten hamburgers for Dylan to grill.
Oliver opens the door to take the packages of meat to Dylan. The brown wooden boards under Oliver creak as his feet slam heavily on the deck. Oliver takes a few more steps forward putting his weight on the boards without caution. The wood snaps under his girth causing Oliver’s foot to go through the plank and he loses his balance. He falls forward onto the wood causing the whole entity to shake and shift under his weight. Simultaneously the pre-packaged meat flies through the air and lands on the ground near the grill with a splat.
“Oh my God! Fuck!” shouts Oliver.
“Oliver! Oliver! Shit! Are you okay baby?” cries Dylan running toward his lover.
“No! I think I felt a snap. It hurts!” he cries out with tears starting to roll down his blubbery cheeks.
Oliver’s hearing goes blank and first and then all he can hear around him is his heart beating faster and faster. He feels his heart banging on his rib cage as if it is desperate to escape from his trashed body. Oliver feels nauseous.. This is it; His life is over. His arm tingles and the outdoors spins before he passes out from the pain.
*~*~*~*
Oliver wakes up confused about everything that happened to him. He looks at Dylan, who is beside him, rubbing his hand in slow circles. Then, he notices he is sitting on a hospital bed. “W-what!? What happened? W-where am I? A-am I... going to die?” he asks nervously, tears welling up in his eyes.
Dylan smiles sweetly at Oliver. “Shhh, Ollie-pop. You’re going to be okay, stop being so overdramatic, cute stuff. You took a pretty hard fall through our deck. I guess the wood is just old and couldn’t handle your weight. The EMTs believe that your leg might be broken and that the fall triggered an anxiety attack. You know your anxiety gets high often.”
“You called an ambulance for me? Shit,” he says before trying to sit up. “I’m so sorry, Dylan,” he pouts. He moves his right leg to try to adjust himself into a sitting position. “Shhhhhit,” yelps the helpless blob boy.
“Don’t move it, Ollie,” Dylan says calmly. “And there is absolutely no reason for you to apologize. You had an accident.”
“I ruined our celebratory cookout. I can’t do anything right, because I’m...I’m too fat,” tears run down his face.
Dylan squeezes Oliver’s hand. He hurts seeing his fat lover in pain. “No. You didn’t ruin anything. I love you. You’re the most beautiful boy in the world. You’ll never be too big for me,” Dylan’s left hand moves from Oliver’s hand to Oliver’s plump right cheek. “I promise we will fill you up with some butter burgers from Lard Have Mercy on our way home, and then I will still grill out for you,” Dylan brushes his thumb up and down before leaning in to Oliver giving him a kiss on his plump lips. “Now, do you want to finish filling out your patient intake forms? I didn’t know what to put under allergies,” Dylan hands a clipboard with a pen to Oliver.
Oliver sniffles and rubs his eyes with his hand removing the excess tears. He takes the board from Dylan and starts scribbling some of the remaining information on the form. His eyes run over the answers Dylan wrote to guarantee their accuracy. The form is brief, but it is an intake form, not a patient chart. Much of the information would be needed to be filled in by a doctor. Dylan talks to Oliver while he fills out the form. “You know, I wouldn’t have been able to get you up by myself. I was so frightened when you went down and clutched your chest. Don’t get mad, but remember the first time you did that cam show?”
“Yeah, I do. Why?” asks Oliver clicking the pen nervously.
“It was like that time your fan made you eat butter and talk about having a heart attack? I’m so sorry, I love you, but in that moment you fell it was so sexually charged like in that video you did. It was so dark and so scary watching that happen to you that it was kind of exciting sexually too that you’re so fucking fat that it could hurt you.”
Oliver blinks. “Not that I would ever hurt you, Ollie-pop. I love you so much. I would be devastated if anything actually did happen to you,” he reassures Oliver. “It was just so, uh, so fucking arousing watching four fit men struggling to get your fat ass in the ambulance.”
A blond nurse enters the room before Oliver has a chance to speak. Oliver zones out of the conversation as the nurse introduces herself and explains she will be performing some tests and taking his vitals. Multiple things race through his mind while she takes care of him. “I’m certain I had a heart attack,” he thinks. The nurse looks terrified listening to Oliver’s lungs and heart, but there isn’t enough evidence to suggest he had cardiac distress. She records her observations for the doctor. “Why would Dylan think it’s so sexy that I am so big I’d have health issues?” he ponders.
The nurse takes his blood pressure. She grabs an oversized cuff over his flabby arm and presses the stethoscope inside. The squeezing of his bingo wings makes him even more nervous, especially when he reads her face as she documents everything. Then, she touches the bed scale to get an accurate weight for him. “Oh...oh my...626 pounds,” she announces. “How am I that heavy? How did I let myself get this big? This is the reality of being so fat. No, I’m obese. This is the reality of being morbidly obese. Is this just a game to us. Is it worth it? Is potential immobility or health issues worth it?” he asks himself in his racing mind.
A short time later, several x-rays from a radiology technician confirms that Oliver’s tibia, the major weight-bearing bone in his leg, and his patella, the knee cap bone, are shattered in multiple places. However, none of them are free floating or moved from where they need to be. The nurse puts on an enormous cast on Oliver’s leg per the request of an Orthopedic surgeon. Then, a staff of four help Oliver move from the bed to a bariatric wheelchair. Oliver takes up the whole seat of the wheelchair with his pear shaped ass. In the front his belly covers his entire lap.
*~*~*~*
Oliver sits in his bariatric wheelchair in the room. Dylan sits down in an extra wide bariatric chair and laughs that he barely takes up any space, but his boyfriend would need a chair bigger than this one if he weren’t in a wheelchair. Oliver glances over and notices the ridiculousness of his fit fiancee in such a large chair as well. He notices beside the chair there is a table littered with propaganda for bariatric surgery. He can’t believe he is stuck here in another room to wait on another doctor. He doesn’t want to be here anymore, but the nurse told them both that another doctor wanted to see him about the results of his vital signs.
While they wait, Oliver turns his x-ray upside down. He is shocked at what damage a simple fall could do to someone at his size. He turns the x-ray back to normal. He repeats this several times, just wanting to go home. Oliver fidgets with the thin plastic material every time he feels a surge of nervousness shoot through his weak body. He already knows how a doctor will react to his weight. He is sick of the lectures from everyone.
The boys hear a knock on the door, realizing the doctor is outside waiting to discuss Oliver’s condition. The door to the room opens, revealing the doctor. The doctor is a thin, older man. At approximately six feet tall, he is several inches taller than Oliver. His hair has a salt and pepper vibe: Graying hair mixed in with dark brown. The doctor has a dark beard, turning gray in the front to match the hair on his head. His white lab coat has a name stitched onto it: Dr. Montgomery.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Montgomery and I specialize in the obesity unit here. We call it the Center for Bariatrics,” says the doctor as his eyes wander up and down Oliver’s fleshy, hill-like frame. “I’m Oliver and this is Dylan,” Oliver blushes in embarrassment knowing the doctor’s gaze is full of judgement. “I’ve been through worse judgement,” he tells himself to relieve his anxiety.
“Nice to meet you both. The orthopedic surgeon seemed to be worried about your weight that caused your accident and felt we needed to have some wraparound care for you. I just want to speak a little about what the nurses found upon being admitted here earlier today. Would you like for me to start with the basics?” asks Dr. Montgomery.
Oliver glances down at his feet and reluctantly gives him a “yes sir.”
“Alright, let's start with some simple questions. Do you smoke?”
“No,” sighs Oliver. He thought the doctor said simple. His situation is much more complicated than that. Technically, he doesn’t smoke cigarettes or cigars. The doctor did not clarify if he meant marijuana or tobacco.
“How often do you drink?”
“I only drink socially. Maybe one of two beers per week. I prefer milkshakes and soda to alcohol,” Oliver announces nervously. Sweat starts to form on his forehead.
“You’re doing fine so far. Do you ever experience numbness, especially in your feet?” Doctor Montgomery sternly asks while scribbling on his clipboard.
“I do not have numbness in my feet,” confirms Oliver, although he did feel some occasional sharp pain. He rationalises that numbness and a shooting pain are not technically the same thing, so it isn’t a complete lie.
“How many sexual partners have you had in the past six months?” Dr. Montgomery requests.
Oliver looks up at Dylan. “Just one and we are monogamous.”
“Tell me a little about your eating habits,” Dr. Montgomery interrogates.
“Well, uhm… you’re going to tell me to do better, but I love sweets. I live off a diet of melted cheese, carbs, milk, and sugar.”
“So no fruits or vegetables?” quizzes the doctor, guessing what kind massive calorie load Oliver inhales after such an answer. Oliver sits in silence.“Eating healthy and exercising are incredibly important foundations for a healthy lifestyle with longevity,” Dr. Montgomery points to a poster on his wall demonstrating a food pyramid. “Food is filled with units called calories. You want to introduce more fruits and vegetables to your d-,” Dr, Montgomery works to include an educational piece before being cut off by Oliver.
“I know how the food pyramid works. I’m not obese because I’m ignorant. I need 5-7 servings of fruits and vegetables per day and to eat whole grains. I know I’m supposed to limit foods and drinks high in sugar, salt, and fat. Can we please move on?” Oliver whines while Dr. Montgomery looks baffled.
Dr. Montgomery challenges Oliver’s paradigm revolving around his weight. “The nurse took your weight upon admittance with your paperwork. Did she tell you how much you weigh?”
“She did, but that’s impossible. The scale must be broken. There’s no way I put on 90 pounds in that short period of time,” says Oliver impressed, but concerned at the same time. This is what he and Dylan wanted, but the consequences of making a mess of Oliver’s body isn’t sinking in with Oliver yet.
“Ollie, I think that’s possible. You eat a lot, my big teddy bear. It’s only 15 pounds per month,” says Dylan while resting his hand on Oliver’s expansive stomach.
“Wait a minute. 15 pounds in a month and a 90 pound gain overall. That is approximately 6 months. You gained all that weight in only 6 months!?” Dr. Montgomery questions Oliver in shock. “Oliver, I don’t know how to tell you this. I’m supposed to hold my composure, but how the hell does this happen? Have you checked your blood pressure recently?”
“I haven’t checked my blood pressure since I was 200 pounds. What’s wrong?”
“Do you know how bad 175/111 is?”
“Those numbers mean nothing to me, doc.”
“Your resting heart rate was incredibly high as well at 118 beats per minute. I’m going to be blunt and let you know it’s dangerously high and can cause you all kinds of problems like stroke and heart attack. Anything higher than 180/120 is a hypertensive crisis. We are way too close and I’m afraid if I don’t prescribe some medication for you, you’ll have a heart attack soon,” Dr. Montgomery tells him with concern.
A few seconds went by with silence. “Why won’t he just leave me alone? I’m almost home free. I just want my butter burgers,” Oliver says to himself.
“Neither of you are listening, are you?” Dr. Montgomery sighs heavily with frustration. “You do realize that your broken bones will make mobility hard, especially at your weight and you’re only getting bigger, right? Have you ever heard of Robert Earl Hughes? What about Manuel Uribe? Juan Pedro Frankie? What about Walter Hudson, Michael Hebranko, Patrick Deuel, or Kenneth Brumley? There are a few more men on that list that weighed over half a ton. Soon that list might include Oliver Dives. Do you want to be one of the heaviest people ever, suffering in your bed until your overworked heart gives out?”
“It’s not that bad. I’m not that big. I’m doing just fine,” Oliver tells the doctor with an attitude and contradicting his earlier statements of telling Dylan that he is too fat.
“You clearly don’t understand. You’ve put on weight faster than anyone I’ve ever seen before. Over 400 pounds in three years time. You’re only 21 years old. That’s not normal or healthy. If you don’t get this under control you’re on track to becoming the world’s heaviest man, or worse, dying before you’re 26.” Again, silence permeates the air, frustrating the doctor. “He’s going to need help. You love him, don’t you?” Dr. Montgomery asks Dylan.
“I love him more than anything. Sure, I do wish I could get him a little healthier, but we both like him big and he loves his snacks .I’ll do my best to make sure we add something nutritious to his diet and I will make sure he takes whatever medicine you prescribe to help him live a long, healthy life” expresses Dylan.
“You’re willing to let him die because you think he looks good big? If drastic changes don’t happen, I don’t think he has but maybe 10 years left. It’s not a simple change and a magic pill. It is going to take a complete 180 on his life style and a cocktail of meds to get him back to a healthy weight,” Dr. Montgomery asserts with annoyance.
“First you say he won’t make it to 26 years old and then you say he might have 10 years left. Which is it, doc?” Dylan questions impatiently.
“Both of those are predictions. My point is that he is one of the youngest people I have ever seen at such a colossal weight. It isn’t healthy for him. Be a good partner and encourage him to do better.”
The room grows silent with the gravity of the doctor’s words. Truth be told, Oliver doesn’t listen to any of it. The thought of being unhealthy scares him and makes him anxious. He wants to drown it all out instead of face the reality of his own mortality. His stomach growls audibly. “My poor baby, you’re so hungry. Here’s a snack for you,” says Dylan pulling out a candy bar from his pocket and giving it to Oliver. Oliver grabs it like a child and rips open the wrapper before taking a bite.
“Dylan, stop! That’s why he’s like that. This is exactly what I mean: You’re going to kill him by encouraging him to eat all that junk,” shouts Dr. Montgomery.
“Don’t blame him. He’s done nothing but make me feel good about myself. He loves me for all of me. I love him and I love the food he gives me,” shouts Oliver before taking a bite of the candy bar.
“Dylan, I’m going to ask you to leave the room,” groans Dr. Montgomery.
“He needs me here with him. I can’t just leave,” replies Dylan.
“I need to talk to Oliver alone,” the doctor says back. The room goes silent for a third time before Dylan huffs heavily. Dr. Montgomery tries again: “leave the room... or I will call security.” Dylan gets angry and reluctantly walks out of the room and slams the door behind him.
“I feel fine. I’m not that unhealthy. Just give me the prescription and we will be on our way because I don’t need this right now, alright?,” Oliver says in denial and licking the melting chocolate off his hands.
“When do you need it? If not now, when? When you finally stroke out and can’t do anything for yourself? When you’re having a heart attack? When you’re trapped in your bed under 1,000 pounds of lard? You’re not that far off from all three of those things,” Dr.Montgomery gives the cold dose of reality.
“I’m 400 pounds away from that. I’m not anywhere even close,” Oliver says shyly.
“No, you’re 374 pounds away from that and you’ve already gained more than that in a short period of time, Dr. Montgomery scolds him.
Oliver stares down at his belly, humiliated by the doctor’s words. Dr. Montgomery is right. How long could he keep this up? What if he really did become the world’s fattest man? Part of the thought turns him on thinking of all the things Dylan would do to him. The other part makes him sick to his stomach. He’s close to hitting the point of no return. Is the sexual pleasure worth his life?
“Does he abuse you?" asks Dr. Montgomery.
"W-what?" asks Oliver in shock.
"That's why I had him leave the room. I have to legally ask this question in concerning cases. Does he abuse you? We are in a safe space. We can get you both therapy or if I need to have the police come I can give them a quick call,” offers Dr.Montgomery bluntly.
Oliver gets red in the face as he squeezes the wrapper of the candy. “He doesn’t abuse me! He loves me so much! If anything I’m afraid I’m ruining his life with my weight. I know if I wanted to stop, he’d let me. I’m a confused mess about this myself, but I’ll be fine. I just want to go home and eat,” pleads Oliver with frustration.
“I won’t be comfortable until you lose at least 100 pounds.”
“I know, but it isn’t your decision to make.”
This time Dr. Montgomery takes the pause perplexed at why Oliver won't take his health seriously. “I don’t understand,” he sighs. “I suppose if he’s not abusing you and you don’t want the intervention, I can’t do anything about this unhealthy dynamic. I’ll let you go home since you can still take care of yourself, but I want you to sign a form at the front desk acknowledging that we’ve had this conversation. I also want you to know if you don’t get this under control, you will die. Bariatric surgery could be an option for you in the future,” grimly reinforces Dr. Montgomery.
The doctor grabs a couple of pamphlets Oliver noticed earlier on the table beside his extra wide seat and tried to hand it to the mammoth young adult. “This will help you get started. It is information on how bariatric surgery helps people. There are also a few on nutrition and therapy. I can't help but feel something larger is at play. Please, don’t hesitate to save your life, Oliver,” Dr. Montgomery pleads.
“I understand the risks, but no thank you. I will not let you amputate my stomach,” Oliver gulps.
“Better your stomach than your future diabetic leg. I’m going to write you a prescription for something to lower your blood pressure and some metformin because you’re clearly pre-diabetic. I wish you the best and hope it all works out for you,” Dr. Montgomery tells Oliver with defeat. He opens the door and allows Oliver to try to wheel himself out. Oliver struggles causing Dr. Montgomery to get behind him and push him back to the lobby.
Once he is reunited with his lover, Dylan helps him by pushing him up to the desk to finish the checkout paperwork. Oliver grabs a pen and starts to fill out the form. “I’ll go pull the van around. Then, we can put the crutches in the back and get you settled,” Dylan suggests, walking out of the lobby doors. Dr. Montgomery walks up beside Oliver, takes a pen, and signs Oliver out of the emergency room.
Finally, he is so close to freedom! He just wants the promise of burgers to be fulfilled. This is too stressful and he needs food to cope. A few minutes later Dr. Montgomery faces Oliver, shakes his hand, and leans down to whisper in his ear. “I mean it, if he’s abusing you, let me know. I have a bad feeling about him,” says Dr. Montgomery. Oliver’s face turns pale and he tries to wheel his weight that has him glued to the chair away from the professional. The doctor grabs the handles of his wheelchair, stopping Oliver from escaping as he leans down to whisper again: “Oliver, he clearly doesn’t want you to change and you’re refusing my treatment to make him happy. Don’t let him kill you for a fetish.” Dylan walks back into the reception room and the doctor stands up straight before telling them both “I’ll be in touch.”
Dylan rolls his fleshy fiance through the lobby toward the exit. The automatic doors slide open with the foresight of the two men going through it and down the ramp to their chariot. Dylan strongly grips the handles of the wheelchair. “If you want to lose weight, you can. I don’t want you to think I’m only with you because you’re a Superchub. I want you to make decisions that are right for you,” says Dylan.
“I don’t want to lose weight. I like the way food feels, and even better is the excitement of you rubbing against my plump body. I can stay healthy on meds the doctor prescribes. I like being your blubber ball too much,” Oliver replies.
“You’re so chunky and gorgeous, son,” Dylan whispers.
“I know I am. You keep me so sexy with all those feedings. Never stop feeding and fucking me, Daddy. I need you. I love you,” Oliver reciprocates in a low tone.
“I love you too, but are you sure, Ollie? Earlier I didn’t mean to disgust you or make you feel like shit. I can’t articulate my thoughts very well because I love what we are doing to you. I think you’re the sexiest guy alive, but if we need to stop because of your mobility or health, let me know. I love you too much. Everything about you comes first.”
“Take me home, hold me down, and show me how much you love all 600 fucking pounds of me. But first, a trip to Lard Have Mercy. This is what I want,” begs Oliver, feeling the nub he calls his cock stirring in his fat pad.