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cicd2 by Andrés Pérez Ortega
This looks like griffin mcelroy
Sexy! 😀
The ax-man workout he saw on television was doing wonders for his body and self-esteem.
However, every time he swung, chopping a piece of wood, he felt a curious sway of his lower body, as if part if him was threatening to throw him off balance. The feeling increased sharply as his workout continued.
A few more swings, and his shirt began riding up on swollen sphere of a belly, inflating a few more inches with every hack. His belt became extremely tight as his tightly-packed paunch threatened to blow it right off.
He scratched his mammoth gut idly, not realizing he had blown past 300 lbs and climbing; barely able to reach the sensitive, itchy underside of his poor, wide belly and wishing someone was around to do it for him.
Suddenly, he was wracked with an ominous growl from deep within the endless chasm attached to his waist. He was starving!!
He grunted. Side effects of the workout, obviously. But didn’t he deserve a feast after all the hard work he’d done so far? His now substantially monstrous beer gut rumbled in agreement.
He stared proudly over his massive swath of a gut at the piles of chopped wood he did all by himself.
“Just…30…more…chops…” he grunted, the muscle-like mounds in his arms and back already working as they simultaneously inflated rounder and fatter, his bunched-up moobs swelling toward his jowls as his overpumped spare tire hungily increased its circumference, obscuring the line of wood blocks he set up.
His belt creaked.
I said you’re gonna smoke, ya fuck, and I meant it. You think you’re old enough to be sneaking my cigars then that’s what you’re gonna do. You’ll smoke like me. You’ll drink like me. You’re gonna start working summers and after school with me. Stop shaving too. You’re gonna be just like your old man. You’re gonna look it too. That understood, boy?
Yes, what?
That’s more like it. I’m Sir to you from now on.
Whaddya mean you don’t like you’re new look? I think you’re a sexy fucker. I don’t get many trespassers, but when I do and I catch em I make sure to teach them a lesson.
Ya ain’t a kid anymore. Ya ain’t straight anymore either. So you might as well get used to you’re new life. You’ll have more fun if ya do.
It feels good, doesn’t it. No more stupid classes. Well other than the ones you teach. And you look so much more distinguished with that stark white beard. Sure the tattooes and piercings might not be what your colleagues would think you have under those three piece suits you’ll wear from now on. Yet, I like that my new Daddy Bear is a bit on the kinky side. Pulling my into his office after class so I can blow him. Gotta earn that A, isn’t that right Daddy? Now don’t fight it or I’ll make you even bigger and furrier. In fact maybe just a bit more chest hair. Give you a nice white pelt.
Stuck as Santa 