Reality Check

Author's Notes:

First and foremost this is a weird fetishy story about weight gain and furries. If that doesn't gel with your tastes or sensibilities, then I imagine you will be happier reading a different story.

I originally uploaded this piece on Furaffinity under my mostly inactive username "Mad2bhere."   I figured it might be welcome with the other work I post here on the website.

Michael noticed a tall glass of caramel-brown liquid. Bubbles of carbonation hissed and
simmered at the surface. He tugged at his baggy polo-shirt and licked his lips. A feline fur sat beside him

"Think of it as a peace-offering Michael." Said Lucas. "Why so hesitant? It is quite safe, believe me."

The feline took a healthy swig of the beverage and set it down. Ice cubes clinked and jingled against the
glass. He pushed the drink towards Michael. The wolf leaned towards the glass and took a sip from a
clear straw dangling over the side. Sweet liquid rushed down his dry throat and into warm gut. No more
soda, Michael resolved.

Not another drop – after he finished this drink of course.

Sips turned to gulps. He bit his lip and stared at the empty glass. There, peace offering accepted. He
scooted his seat back and stood up to leave. Lucas' lips curled back into a smile. A smile that did not
reach up to his eyes. Michael big his bottom lip and took a few steps backwards.

"I remember seeing you here a month ago. " Said Lucas. "You didn't come here on your own, though."

"I appreciate this, really I do, but I need to go."

"You can't leave." Said Lucas. "You could never bring yourself to do it"

"Sure, I'm going right now."

Michael turned on his heels and began his long walk to the door. Dull churning sounds dominated his stomach.

"Just a drink? No food? That's not like you Michael." Said Lucas.

A waiter rushed by and set down a hamburger. The intoxicating odor forced a growl from Michael's
stomach. Just one bite. Then a trip to the gym. Against his better judgment, Michael plopped down in
his seat. He sunk his teeth into buns and tore off a chunk. Grease dribbled down his chin and onto his
shirt. He blushed and wiped his face with a napkin.

"Was it your first time here? That long month ago?" Said Lucas.

"I don't think so." Said Michael. "Can't really remember."

"It was high school, remember?" Said Lucas.

"No, never in high school."

Once again, a waiter rushed by. This time with a basket of fries and a refill of his soda. Michael pushed
the food to Lucas and turned away.

"Yes, you have. You were such a bean-pole back then." Said Lucas. "Between school and work you had
no time to cook a decent meal for lunch, so you came here."

A furious roar surged from Michael's stomach. The hunger twisted a knife in his gut. A moan escaped
his lips. He grabbed a fry, stopped with it mere inches from his muzzle, then set it down.

"Okay so maybe I did come in once."

"More like every other day."

"I swear it was just once."

Sweat pearled on Michael's forehead. His vision blurred. When did he eat last? It felt like weeks of
starvation gnawed him from the inside out. He grabbed another fry and ate it. The meager morsel proved
worthless on its own. Michael rubbed his stomach and shook his head.

"Come on, a big guy like you can handle more than a measly little fry." Said Lucas. "Even back then
you could stand a whole meal. What has gotten into you today?"

Big guy? Was he joking? Lucas' neck might have been twice as thick as Michael's right thigh.
Somewhere, a snide comment brewed in Michael's brain. The hunger dulled all perception. He needed
to eat something. Anything now. Michael conceded to one fry, then another.

"You're one to talk fat-ass. I bet you eat here six times a day to maintain that svelte figure of yours."
Said Michael, his lips pulled back into a sneer.

"Your figure is a sore spot. I can relate." Said Lucas. "You want those abs you tried so hard to build in high school."

"It'll just take me a few months, I'm not worried." Said Michael.

"Right, you keep telling yourself that. Just like you did back then. Like most big things, you started
small."

"I've been thin up until last month."

"Your meals started small, but with each outing your stomach stretched a little."

Michael's paws grasped at a handful of fries and stuffed them in his face. The nerve of this asshole. He
just put on a few pounds in high school. Not even ten, he wagered. He shifted around in his seat. Damn
hard wood chairs never felt that comfortable. He much preferred the booth seat.

"You gained quite the appetite." Said Lucas. "Oh yes, I do remember."

Michael reached into the basket of fries once more, only to discover nothing left. He sat still for a
moment, dazed. The dull burn of salt lingered on his lips. He took a gulp of soda and went to work on
the hamburger.

"That summer after you graduated, you super sized."

The same waiter from before stopped by their table and set down another basket of fries, two
hamburgers, and another glass of soda. A gurgle ruminated from within Michael. His hunger seemed
happy, not sated by any means, but no longer did he feel faint. He grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed
them down his throat.

"With those portions came more weight." Said Lucas. "What size is that shirt again?"

"It's a medium."

"Ah, denial. Hard to deny that inch of tummy though."

Right on cue, Michael's stomach felt cooler. He looked down to find his paunch peeking out beneath his shirt.
He tugged it down over the exposed furry flesh and resumed eating. So he needed to wear a
large. He wasn't that big yet. He adjusted himself in his seat, his jeans pinched his thighs

"You tried your best to remain active, to keep your weight down, and for the most part you maintained.
Even with your outings here." Said Lucas. "Until you met her that long month ago."

"Oh jeez don't even get me started on her. I went up an entire pants size."

Michael stifled a burp, oblivious to his growing portions. The fries now came in a
bucket, the hamburger took up most of the plate. A big fat mug filled to the brim with sugary soda topped it all off.

"More like three pants sizes." Said Lucas. "You look absolutely ridiculous. What with those 30s ready to bust at any moment."

Michael gasped at the sudden pressure he felt below the waist. He looked down to find his shirt no
longer able to cover his potbelly. His softened chest rolls strained against the thin fabric. Love-handle
flesh oozed over the waistband of his jeans. He reached down to unbutton them. The sound of fabric
tearing caught him in his tracks. He felt cold wood against his now bare thighs.

"You took that as a sign though, and upped yourself to large shirts and 34 inch waists. A bit of an
improvement, but maybe a little form fitting."

Michael blinked to find the ripped pants gone away. Though the pressure he felt only lessened slightly, it gave
him enough room to continue stuffing his face. Those greasy burgers wouldn't eat themselves after all.

"You could never put your finger on it, but she was doing something to you." Said Lucas. "And you
were obliviously ballooning. You never knew, but she replaced your clothes to keep you in denial."

"She wouldn't do that, would she?"

"What size is that shirt again?"

Michael grabbed the tag of his shirt and pulled it into view. A big bold XL stared right back at him. All
of a sudden his shirt felt loose. His pants did much the same. The sudden relief, though shocking, was
much-needed on his part.

"What's going on here."

"Just a peace offering, a meal at your favorite restaurant." Said Lucas.

"What did you do to me?"

"You did this all on your own, how could you not even notice your own girth at this point? Any chance
of you finding abs in that gut were lost when you out grew those 36s."

Michael scratched at his gut. A full blown gut that sagged from the bloated caricature he saw in the mirror every
morning. His swollen chest left little to the imagination. "Friends" joked he could wear a B-cup, but Michael was
too embarrassed to admit that his ex-girlfriend's old C's looked too small for his ample torso.

"You wanted to break it off with her. To get your life back on track." Said Lucas. "It's been three
months now, you couldn't find it in yourself to do it."

"Three months?"

"Don't you remember?"

Michael shifted in his seat. Try as he might, the wooden chairs would never be as comfortable as they
used to. Not because of hardness, his plush rump provided all the cushion he needed. Rather, his widened cheeks
started to inch over the sides. He pushed his seat back to afford his belly some room.

"I wanted to ask you a question Lucas." Said Michael.

"Go right ahead."

"Has she been fattening me up?"

"She's been encouraging it, but you did all of that yourself."

The wolf stared down at the lazy ball of lard that enveloped his lap. He felt a cool rush of air
brush along the bottom. He needed to go clothes shopping again. Michael poked the fatty mass and
pinched his spare tire. A warm feeling spread throughout his body.

"You're right, I wanted to break up with her." Said Michael.

"It scared you at first, but you knew at this size, no one would date you. She was the only one who ever
loved you at this size.” Said Lucas. “So you just gave in.”

A low rumbling filled the room. Michael, no longer content to stuff handfuls of fries in his face, horked
down whole burgers. Michael's gut peeked out beneath his shirt. Then in an instant it rode up to his
chest. The ill-fitting shirt cupped his swelling man breasts like a make-shift bra The button on his jeans
burst, while his gut hid any sort of indecency.

"And you didn't stop there. It just snowballed."

Michael's moobs began to swell over the sides of his belly. Splitting the v-neck of his shirt down the
middle. Ample cleavage tumbled from the remains of his shirt.
He looked down at his meal, only to feel his jowls compress into three chins. His plump ass cheeks
oozed over the top of his underwear and the waistband of his pants. Several tearing sounds filled the
air. His shirt split so far down it became a ridiculous, skin-tight vest. Massive thighs burst from their
denim prison. The waistband of his underwear split at the sides. Piles of plates surrounded the two fat
furs. All of which belonged to Michael.

"So how many Xs are on your shirt these days?"

Michael snapped from his trance. He stifled a heavy burp and groaned. A snug waistband constricted
his waist. Each shallow breath tested the limit of the button. Fat paws worked their way under his belly
and desperately tried to undo the button on his pants.

He squirmed a bit in the booth. The widest curve of his rear grew precariously close to the edge of the
seat. One tubby paw lifted his gut, the other sifted around beneath the warm fuzzy ball of lard. He
fiddled with the button, but no dice. The button strained much to tight for him to undo it. Defeated, he
slumped in the bench a bit. His gut forced the table forward.

“Did you say something hon?” Michael asked.

A young feline stretched in her seat. A soft purr escaped her lips. She looked
at her boyfriend and smiled.

“How many Xs are on your shirt these days, big guy? That sausage case is looking a little snug.”

“5X I think.” Michael tried to turn and look at the tag. His fat neck made any such movement difficult.
He gave up and reached for his drink.

“Right, think it's about time for another trip to the big n' tall store.” She said.

Michael's face grew hot. He knew weeks ago that he needed to go up a size. Though, she insisted that
he squeeze into these uncomfortable clothes. She loved seeing him pop out of them. Another bite, and
her wish might just come true.

“Here is your receipt, miss Tanya.” The waiter from earlier placed a slip of paper on the table.

“But what about the bill?”

“Your brother covered your expense for the evening.”

She looked past the waiter to a seat across the room. Sure enough, filing up his own booth, was Lucas.
They exchanged knowing looks and waved at each other.

“Alright Mick, time to get you to the truck.” Tanya squeezed out of her seat and walked to her plus
sized boyfriend.

Michael tried his hardest to scoot to the side. He grunted in his attempt to stand. Both the waiter and
Tanya grabbed his arms and helped lift him from the seat. To see him rise was a sight to behold.
His belly cascaded like a waterfall of flesh. His massive thighs oozed over his fat knees and clashed
with his hefty calves. Skin tight pants pulled tight against the shape of his bulbous rear-end. Each step
made his body quake and jiggle.

“Hey, what about dessert?”

“We can pick up a gallon of ice cream on the way home.” Tanya winked.

Ice cream, he should have liked the sound of that. Something felt wrong about it.
The sound of his stomach rumbling drowned any mental opposition.

"Make that three gallons." Michael said.