He was sitting on the sofa in his parents’ living room, a warm fuzzy blanket spread across his lap. His parents did keep it chilly in their house, but the blanket served another purpose–to hide the fact that he had stealthily unbuttoned his pants beneath it. He felt like a stuffed turkey, or maybe a supersized Christmas goose. No, he felt like a giant, fat HOG.

How he was going to get up again without everyone noticing his unbuttoned pants, he wasn’t sure yet. Hopefully his sweatshirt was long enough to cover it.

He’d been forced to unbutton, though. While these had been his new, loose pants just two months ago, the holiday season had seen to the fact that they were no longer so loose. He was up 25 pounds since Halloween, much to the delight of his girlfriend. Those 25 pounds and a Christmas dinner feast sitting heavily inside his gut meant he’d been desperate for relief from his waistband when he managed to heave himself up from the table, doing his best not to give away to his family just how uncomfortably stuffed he was and how his pants were squeezing him in two.

“Another slice of apple pie?” his girlfriend asked him, handing him a plate with a generously sized piece of pie with an even more generous dollop of whipped cream on top. He took the plate, already wondering how he was going to force it in.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” his mother asked disapprovingly, for what felt like the dozenth time.

“Aw, give it a rest, Ma,” his oldest brother said. “He’s just getting fat and bald like the rest of us, finally.”

This was only partially true, as his brothers could both be described as barely chubby at best, and he had clearly gone from being the fit one his mother held up as an example to being the much fatter one in the space of a single year. But he appreciated the support, backhanded though it may be, and gave his brother an appreciative nod as he dug into the first bite of pie.

“I’m just concerned,” his mother said. “It’s not normal to gain so much weight so quickly. I really think you should see a doctor or nutritionist.”

No, it probably wasn’t normal to gain weight so quickly, but most people probably didn’t have a feeder girlfriend encouraging them to do so. He’d wanted to be fat as long as he could remember, but he’d never allowed it to happen, other than the occasional bulking phase that he’d never let get too out of control. Not until he had met her, that is.

He’d found her on Tinder in January, and her profile said she liked guys with big appetites and a little extra meat on their bones. He hadn’t had the extra meat then, but he’d always eaten a lot due to all the physical activity he did, so he took a chance and messaged her. She’d agreed to a first date, and he’d made an effort to impress her, devouring his entree, polishing off the rest of hers, and ordering a dessert to share. She’d taken a single bite of the dessert and then let him have the rest.

Evidently he had made a good impression, as the first date turned into a second date, and a third, and they soon became a couple. He kept making those good impressions, and it was not long before he found himself tipping the scales higher than he’d ever been before. Nearly a year later, he was 75 pounds heavier than when he’d met her and 75 pounds heavier than the last time he’d seen his family last Christmas.

He ignored his mother’s remark, filling his mouth with more pie instead, though her comment had gotten to him. His girlfriend could sense the shift in his mood, and she sat down on the sofa beside him, sliding under his blanket, her hand finding his swollen belly beneath it. He felt her hand pause slightly when she realized his pants were open. She looked up at him, and he recognized that gleam in her eyes. The moment between them passed unnoticed by the others, or at least unnoticed as significant, but it gave him the motivation he needed to double down on that slice of pie.

“Well, son, are you planning to get back in the gym in the New Year?” his dad asked.

“Oh, he goes to the gym several times a week already!” his girlfriend replied for him. “He is big into weight lifting.” She punctuated this remark with an appreciative squeeze of his bicep and a bright grin.

His younger brother cleared his throat and suggested finding the game on TV, a suggestion which was met with relief by everyone.

A few hours later, as they started their long drive back home, his girlfriend asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Still stuffed,” he grunted, smoothing both hands across his round, bloated belly. “That last piece of pie you brought me really did a number on me. I should not have eaten that. I don’t know how I found the room.” His pants were still unbuttoned, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever button them again.

“I mean how are you feeling about your family’s reactions?” she clarified.

“Oh. Well, I knew they were going to have something to say about it. I have always been the most athletic sibling, and my mom was always big on healthy eating growing up. Our family doesn’t get fat.”

“Until now,” she said.

“Until now,” he agreed. “It felt really weird being the fat one. The way my mom watched every bite I took this weekend and kept talking about doctors sucked.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry your family is like that.”

“Me too. But I don’t think I could lose weight if I tried. I love food way too much, and it’s all your fault! Next year they’ll really have something to talk about!”

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