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A car parks outside an apartment building; the setting sun burns the horizon with pink and violet. The structure is grey; yellow light bleeds from the windows to tint the concrete a shade of piss. From the car, a man dressed in a jacket and jeans stepped out. His senses were assaulted by the cold air. It was October 1st; fall had set in, but this was rather extreme for 6:00 P.M. There were stairs on the apartment’s side; he climbed them for several flights before reaching the fourth floor. Clouds of his breath were visible as he exhaled, leaning against the hallway's railing to rest.
He walked to the hall’s very end which was marked by a single door labeled 416 in some kind of cheap plastic that chipped at its corners. The man pressed the doorbell and a jingle played. Five minutes passed; nothing happened, so he pressed it again. Another five minutes passed. Curtains covered the windows, but slivers of light cut through the gaps and a rustling could be heard inside. The doorknob turned without resistance and he entered without worry.
“Jesus Christ, Cain! Don’t you know how to knock?” A voice, energetic and masculine, yelled. This noise was accompanied by a shirt being thrown at the man’s face, causing him to stumble back into the doorway.
“I told you I was coming man! It’s already 5:30, and it’s already freezing. You gotta hurry up and stop jerking off, or we’ll be late to the restaurant.” The man retorted, his voice more flat in comparison. He pulled the shirt off his face to see a tall man scurry behind a thin bed, nude in all manners except for a hastily pulled-over pair of underwear.
“God, you think I’m that much of a degenerate? Then why the hell are you opening the door for the whole world to see my naked ass, dipshit!”
“Oh, don’t give me that Danny! I called you ahead of time; I rang the bell twice!”
“It doesn’t matter! I was getting ready by the way! Now get out and give me a minute at least.” The voice replied, throwing more spare clothes at the other man until he closed the door behind him.
This jean-wearing fellow was Cain, 23 Years Old, on the shorter and paler end of things. And the man he’d rudely interrupted was Danny, 30 years old, on the taller and darker end of things, and most importantly, his boyfriend. Tonight was supposed to be their fourth date–a nice dinner date that Cain had been planning for the last week. Unfortunately, no matter how much time he gave, Danny would always wait until the very last minute. It didn’t matter that the place wasn’t that far away, and the roads were usually quieter around the place.
The two men had met almost a year ago now; Danny was a graduate student studying some science that Cain could hardly remember the name of while he was a nobody who worked in the school’s custodial staff as a broke dropout. The two had encountered each other after a series of events revolving around the school’s recycling systems. Either way, they found something within each other and decided to make it work. Danny was an interesting person; despite his height—something like 6’4" but he rounded down to 6'3”— the man was meek and fragile, the scaffolding for something that never seemed to be built. This was by design.
“Okay. You can come in now, baby.” Danny cooed. His voice slithered through the door's corners and to the other man’s ears. He opened the door again and was met with a whole new, more put-together person. On the bed lay Danny. He dressed in a graphic T-shirt cut at the stomach to make a makeshift crop top. Beneath was a fishnet shirt that concealed his waist in a black grid pattern. These were accompanied by bell-bottom jeans that hung loosely on his waist. Rings adorned every finger while his hair was held in tight braids. He lay on his belly, chin in hands and legs kicking the air. “Haiii~”
Danny longed to be anything but a burly jock despite being cursed with the perfect genetics for it. The man chose a life as far from it as possible, which luckily he could support with enough smarts and a large enough college fund. He liked putting on a facade of meekness before revealing the twist that he was some kind of diva. Danny’s mood for the day was shown first and foremost through how he chose to dress for the day. Cain didn’t really understand it, but he’d gotten to the point where he realized it was all just how the man expressed himself. And that often didn’t matter when Cain got to be stunned by such blood-rushing fashion on the daily, even if it meant he’d have to deal with a frustrated boyfriend that day. This was one of those moments for him.
“O-oh, that’s beautiful.” Cain stuttered.
“I know, silly. That’s why I put it on, just to see that red on your face–it means my magic is working on you.” Danny got up from the mattress, walking over to the short man and placing a kiss right on his forehead. There was a solid half a foot difference between the two; sometimes it was easier to crush him between nonexistent tits and plant kisses on his head. “Where are we going tonight, baby?”
“There’s a nice steakhouse that opened up a couple weeks ago. So guess who got us a reservation in one of its nice seats? That's right! This guy! You’ll love it, babe, trust me, I’ve been planning out this date for weeks.”
“Last time you said that I got food poisoning…”
“Hey, I admit it was my mistake to trust the restaurant built into a gas station–I thought they would have better quality control. But don’t worry, if we wait any longer we’re gonna be late.”
The car ride was quiet; Cain took driving seriously. Roads were killing machines disguised as necessary means of travel, according to him. The car smelt like evergreen trees and weed from the times they tried to smoke. Danny watched as the sunset fully vanished and the moon rose, coating the vibrant reds and purples into deep blacks and blues. The radio hummed quietly to the newest hit album from some no-name rapper that the station could afford. A tune that got stuck in Danny’s head to a point of annoyance. Trees devolved and revolved into the concrete jungle of the city for what felt like hours. Every time he checked the clock, it only read a few minutes further.
The car stopped with a halt in a dilapidated parking lot; cracked concrete and weeds breaking through at every angle, all visible from the ambient light of streetlamps that hung overhead. A cold breeze rushed by as they got out of the vehicle; it sent a shiver down the more lightly dressed of the two. Danny’s eyes gazed across the scenery; somehow they had landed in the perfect in-between of jungle and city trash. The farthest outskirts of the city, where metropolitan and a dying Midwest town become the same. The street they were on was desolate, empty lots barren of infrastructure, attempts at expansion into the rural that failed merely from disinterest in all parties. Across the asphalt river was a building. It looked well maintained, enough. A massive neon sign stood off to the side and pointed towards the place. It read: “Dante’s.” Windows scattered across the place’s face revealed a packed room bustling with life.
Cain ran across the street to it, beckoning his partner to follow, which he did. Everything was illuminated by lamps, all coated in a faint yellow hue. The place was certainly a steakhouse, to a fault, in an attempt to create some kind of country aesthetic. The air was hot and thick and smelt of smoke with a hint of meat underpinning it. Danny liked the smell; it made his mouth water. He hadn’t eaten for much of the day. A small stomach meant he preferred saving his appetite during days like this. There was a waitress at the front door. Some girl who looked somewhere around 20 years old. She led them to their reserved seats. It was some closed-off area of the restaurant in the back, behind a double door. The country vibe ended as the doors behind them closed, the sound of a dozen families and truckers silenced. It felt like a real restaurant now. There were a few people there; older people dressed in suits. This was Cain’s first time at the restaurant, so he didn’t expect something like this, but that would explain the price tag. This was the place businessmen would take their bosses to talk about money that wasn’t cheap but the cheapest of the expensive places. The girl brought them to a place, right by a window that overlooked a clearing in the trees. The moon rested quietly in the sky.
“May I take your order?”
“Uh… Hmm. Can we get the ribeye and T-bone steaks, also two bottles of wine.” Cain replied, eyes skimming over the menu with several dozen items scattered over it in progressively smaller fonts and progressively rising price tags. He looked over to Danny, whose eyes were gawking at the scenery as if he’d never been outside before.
His boyfriend spoke in a whisper as if worried he’d break a sacred silence, “Dude, how did you afford this? This place is so beautiful, how much are they paying you to mop the bathroom floors?”
“Goddamn, you don’t need to be whispering here; we paid to be here. Also don’t worry, honey, I’ve been saving up on my couple paychecks to do something special for you. Anything you want, I can pay for tonight.”
“Is that why you’ve been coming over for dinner so much? And stealing my cereal.”
“Can’t your boyfriend like your food?”
“My food, not my cooking,” Danny replied with a pout.
“Shut up and enjoy the food baby; you’re gonna love it.”
A few minutes passed, mostly small talk and ambient nibbling on some bread that was put out on the table. The bread was cold and a bit stale. After 15 minutes, another waiter appeared with their meals in hand. He vanished into the kitchen for what must’ve been only a second before reappearing with two wine glasses. They were fresh; condensation dripped off their sides from the ice bath. The waiter placed them on the table before disappearing once again into the kitchen.
“You’re giving me a whole bottle? You really are treating me tonight.” Danny spoke as he began to pour the bottle into his glass; Cain did the same. They clinked their glasses together in some vague celebration neither understood why they were doing, but felt like they needed to do. The two lovers were vagrants sitting in the rich kids section, so they did what they thought was proper. They talked and drank and ate steaks that tasted like shit because they were cooked well done and drank some more. Danny ate faster; you could tell he’d starved himself the morning of in preparation for a feast. Cain drank and ate slowly; he enjoyed food and the experience of eating. This also gave him an opportunity to gaze at the beauty of his lover without making it awkward. Danny used makeup today; it accented all the right features of his face. Combined with the gems that rested in his ear piercings, his face radiated the aura that Cain loved. Though that wasn’t all. Maybe the wine was making him a bit tipsy now; he’d always been a lightweight, but his thoughts fell from heartfelt admiration to something below the belt. Another thing Danny had, despite being nothing but skinny and bony, was a fat ass that drove his boyfriend wild. He wore pants two sizes too large for him that held on through the sheer width of his hips. All of Danny's fat had gone to his ass, and the sheer thought made Cain lightheaded in a way he didn’t want to end. Cain was only a quarter of the way through his bottle at this point.
By the time Danny had finished gnawing through a third of the steak, he’d already finished the entire bottle. Only now did its effects begin to set in. There were a lot of things to love Cain for: he was an idiot but a good-hearted one, worked hard, lived hard, and most importantly, he was a fatass. He was chubby in all the right places and so small compared to him, Danny’s marshmallow, who he got to see every day on his walk to class. The thought of Cain’s flabby form made him rub myself against his thighs in small movements, unnoticeable yet effective. It was a secondary pleasure, however, to the food he was chewing on. It was overpriced and trashy, but everything tasted a bit better inebriated, and God, did it taste like the best thing he ever had at that moment. Sadly, his bottle had run dry, and the only one left was across from him. Cain looked up to see his boyfriend giving him puppy-eyes, and at this point he knew what he wanted. A bottle slid across the table. Danny gripped it by the neck, and there was about two-thirds left. He chugged the wine.
“BURP! Cain, baby. This shit… This shit is great,” Danny said, having reached a point of clear drunkenness, lips latching onto the bottle interspersed between his words. Saliva mixed with alcohol sticks to the bottle's rim. He’s warm inside and out, mumbling his thoughts and hiccupping as he finishes his food, “Aye, waiter, waiter… Can I get some more of this delicious steak and more of this wine, two more bottles please. I’d love some more wine,” The waiter appeared before the two, listening to the drunken man’s order, doing as he did before, returning some time with the demanded items. Danny was munching on the bread as the food came. “T-Th-Thank you, sir,” he said, a little bit of spittle escaping his lips as he cracked open the bottle. Another steak entered the man, and another bottle of wine was drunk, then another, then another call to the waiter.
Cain watched as his boyfriend drunkenly stuffed himself with food and drink. A rather visible sight as his thin stomach pushed itself out. Perhaps he was too drunk to recognize how much he was putting into himself. Soon the orders eventually devolved into requests for more wine. By the fourth, Cain, as the most lucid of the couple, whispered to the waiter, “Aye—HICCUP! Can you just start filling a bottle with water–I don’t think he can tell the difference at this point.” He had the right idea as Danny began chugging water without a second thought. That did not stop the drunkenness and the feeling which came from it, however, as the more sober of them quickly realized.
This fact was made apparent by Cain being alerted to a sudden pressure in his crotch. He looked down to see a foot pushing against it. A white sock weakly tried to rub at the outline of his cock, but it was more or less just grinding against the area of his pelvis. He blushed and raised his head to see the other person at this table staring him down and giving a weak smirk.
“Come on, dude—not in public.”
“Whuh do you mean? Y-you like it, baby; I can feel it. Heh,” Danny replied, pushing even further into his crotch.
“Relax,” Cain said with a hint of desperation in his voice. He sipped at a smaller glass of water that he had asked for between his boyfriend’s many orders. He was trying to remain cool, to not make much more of a scene than having your date being practically blackout drunk already caused. Worse still was that he was already hard before this assault on his mental fortitude. There was also a pressure building; maybe he was about to bust a nut or maybe it was the alcohol and water working their magic on him. He couldn’t tell which, but he was trapped in this scenario.
“Heheh. I’m going to make you cum heheheh. W-waiter, can you get me more wine?”
“Please baby…” He begged as his face struggled to keep some form of composure as the waiter arrived with another bottle. Fortunately, he was able to keep his composure until they were left alone; unfortunately, his mind couldn’t bear the struggle any longer. Cain’s face twisted in a mix of relief and embarrassment. He felt strange, a rising warmth that spread from his crotch down the pant legs and thighs. A warmth that radiated onto the bottom of Danny’s sock.
“Hahaha. I made you bust a nut all over yourself~ You’re so warm and pretty, and warm. I can feel you all over me. Hahahah.”
“Goddammit, Danny! I pissed myself—shit, how am I going to fix this? Goddamn…”
“HICCUP! D-don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the wine, baby. HICCUP! We’ll just drink until it kicks us out, th-then we’ll figure it out from there, baby.” Danny softly chuckled as he grabbed the bottle again and drank it. A gurgling sound began to emanate from somewhere, and it was loud enough to interrupt Cain’s thoughts.
Cain again took his eyes off the mess he’d made of himself. His vision slowly rose to realize where the noise was coming from. “Aye, dude, how many bottles have you drunk?” His lover looked down at his palm and began to loosely count with his finger. More tiny burps and hiccups escaped his lips.
“Like 15? Hehehe. I wasn’t really counting in the first place, silly~”
The sound of ripping fabric suddenly became prominent as it even caught the drunken man’s attention. These were the sounds of fishnets being torn apart thread by thread. Constant drinking and constant eating had turned his thin frame into a burgeoning potbelly that stretched his outfit beyond its limits. He was stuffed beyond belief; his stomach peaking at its upper half. The remaining strains of cloth dug into his belly, leaving it to bulge out in a grid pattern.
“Wait, how haven’t you pissed yourself this entire time?”
“Oh—HICCUP! I’ve just been holding it this entire time, silly, and I still don’t need to go… Why do my pants feel so tight all of a sudden?” Another gurgling noise emanates from somewhere, but Cain realizes something; it’s coming from Danny. As his boyfriend began adjusting his pants, a deep rumbling started. Then his belly grew bigger, not his entire belly, though; only the lower half was being dug into by his pants. Then it grew some more, and it didn’t stop growing. Danny’s hands flew up as it started. He felt weird; a sudden incredible fullness had stricken him, and he was warm, warmer than he’d already been from all the wine. His entire body felt like the warmth in his piss-soaked sock. It was a sickly feeling mixed with his still-influenced mind that left him in a vague state of watching and giggling, unable to mentally decide on a feeling. Nonetheless, on the outside it looked like Danny’s lower half was inflating like a balloon.
Those bell-bottom jeans didn’t stand against this seeming growth. The buttons popped first, falling to the floor between the couple. This relieved some of the pressure. It also revealed that his underwear, drenched in sweat and other fluids, was losing the war as well. His brown skin and the shave marks are visible through torn holes in the cloth. The sides of his pants began to tear in tiny holes across the seam lines. More brown flesh bulging out of the gaps. The growth was centered around his pelvis, his bladder specifically. Danny’s bladder was inflating with endless piss from holding in so much.
His pants fell off his body in scraps as his body began to fill the entirety of his seat. The only thing concealing his dick was the overstretched fragments of his underwear, and that left nothing to the imagination as it spread itself thin over the expanse of his lower half. The man began to rise vertically as much as he was horizontally. His legs and ass had been stretched wider and wider by the mass of his bladder. His organs were rearranged a dozen different times as the minutes passed. A new overwhelming pressure interjected itself into the man’s barely aware brain; that of the rapidly increasing sphere he was on top of. It squashed and stretched with pressure applied to it, and it made the rest of him jiggle as more fluid filled it. His bladder had long passed the point of being full; it was an orb being overinflated with urine to test its elasticity. The experience wasn’t unbearable; he felt terribly full, but the sloshing liquid put pressure on the right organs to make him feel really good. Danny getting hard made holding in his piss rather easy at first; he didn’t even notice as he rubbed at himself under the table. When everything began to overfill, the pressure in his bladder made it even more difficult to notice while lost in drunken euphoria. It would be hard for him to pee with such a boner, let alone for his body to piss itself.
Danny came into his underwear as a surge of growth came. The remains of the cloth were shredded in the expansion. His dick was more a fixture on the wall of flesh rather than a functioning part of the body. A similar occurrence was happening with his lower extremities. His legs were jutted in a starfish position as they slowly lost definition to the greater mass of the lower body. His ass had already become a crevice in this orbicular expanse. The lover gazed around his form, running his hands down as far as he could. He’d grown four feet in every direction, and the man’s body covered his side of the booth entirely. The table had fallen over, spilling anything leftover onto the floor. Cain had backed himself into his corner of the booth, watching in shock.
“BURP! I feel like—I feel like a water balloon. It feels so nice. Like I’m–BURP! I’m attached to a–Ahh!” He experienced another organism as his body approached six feet. Cain was trapped, pinned against his boyfriend and the wall. A new sensation struck Danny as he realized his body stopped jiggling. There was no more give in his bladder. This sensation was tightness. The inflating man’s body was reaching its limits, but he was still filling up with more and more urine.
Stinging and burning were the only way Danny could describe the feeling of his body stretching closer and closer to its maximum capacity. The feeling worsened as he reached seven feet. The divots that once were his legs seeped out of the booth, but he could barely feel the difference. The uninflated upper half of him was getting pushed closer to the ceiling to the point that he was able to reach the ceiling with his hands. Gurgling had been a constant sound since he started holding it in; it meant that his body was producing more and more waste to fill him with. But accompanying all the other signs of his limit were a rising creak and groan, like a rubber band being stretched or the hull of a ship. They joined the cacophony of other sounds being made that his mind tuned out.
Stretch marks began to form around the man’s growing body; deep red slash marks that orbited around his bottom. They stung to the touch, and this pain was seemingly enough to bring his senses back to him. Fear had taken over Danny’s mind, reality had set in, and there was seemingly no way out. The man was a literal piss balloon on the verge of exploding. Something about the thought made him cum again. He looked around himself to see more and more marks appearing. He could feel how thin his skin was at this point; the overhead light warmed the urine inside him more than his skin. The pinnacle of his bladder had stretched so far it became semi-translucent. His dark skin tone was the only thing stopping him from looking piss yellow.
Urine was all that was left in Danny’s mind by now. He’d stopped growing at eight feet; reduced to nothing but an eight-foot-tall sphere of piss. Everything smelt like piss and overpriced smoke. All the sensations he had led back to the yellow waste filling his insides. He would throw up, but that would just be sludge and piss. He’d cum to being a growing ball of piss so much that nothing left the dickhole anymore. Now there was nothing left of him but to explode as some kind of pee bomb. Danny would’ve gone insane if he’d not been shitfaced drunk and had his senses fried over the course of this dinner date. The groans and creaks were deafening; he couldn’t hear anything and knew there was no way anybody could save him if they could hear him. The end was coming with a crescendo.
No, he wasn’t gonna just let himself explode. He had to do something to get this out of him. His entire body began to sweat. But it wasn’t sweat. It was the sign of the body's failure as the rising internal pressure forced urine to leak out at its weakest points. And in that moment Danny felt it.
“Oooh god, I need to–HICCUP! Take a piss,” he said in some mix of a groan and moan, laced with pleasure as much as it is pain. Danny’s dick released a little stream of piss that pooled on the floor. Then his body gave one last groan of defiance against the inevitable. He exploded like an overfilled water balloon with a resoundingly wet pop; his body tore asunder, unleashing a flood of liquids. The entire room was coated in urine, forming pools and puddles wherever it could. The only thing remaining of Danny was his torn clothes, jewelry, and the ambient smell of wine and piss.
Cain was thrown out the window in the blast. He left the restaurant without paying his bill and never came back.