"Arthur!", called Alfred, grinning, "I've got your food ready. Come 'n get it." He'd set out a large chicken sandwich that took up the entire dinner plate along with a platter of potato chips and chocolate chip cookies. Beside this sat a gallon of Sprite.
Normally, America had simply brought the food to his lover. However, Alfred wanted to see just how out of shape Arthur had become.
Indeed, removing himself from the couch had become quite a task. Arthur heaved himself to stranding, exhausted already from the simple action. "C-coming!"Arthur responded, attempting to carry himself atop fat thighs. By the time Arthur was moving, sweat was pouring down his face and his breathing was labored. But he needed that food, so he pushed himself forward.
As he waddled his way through the kitchen entrance Alfred came up beside his lover to drop a sweet kiss to Arthur's lips, placing his hand on the stomach that was half stuffed into the sweatpants.
"F-food please, dear." Arthur panted as he struggled to make his way from the entrance to the kitchen chair, Alfred guiding the English nation all the way, evil smile ever-present beneath the hand not being used as Arthur's crutch.
As England sank into his seat, the framework whined in protest at his weight, some of it spilling over the edges of the chair, belly taking up most of his lap. Alfred stood behind him and pushed his chair in, using some of his super strength.
As soon as Arthur caught his breath, he picked up the sandwich and took a large bite, smearing condiments all about his mouth and cheeks.
Alfred wiped the mustard off Arthur's face, commenting, "You seem tired. Maybe take another nap once you finish your meal, babe?", not bothering to mention that Arthur had already slept most of the day away, pausing only for food.
Arthur nodded absentmindedly, his stomach still empty and complaining even as it was fed. It was taking so much food to feel full now! Arthur wanted to be so full as to the point of pain. However, his energy levels did not seem to be up to the task as eating took so much out of him.
Maybe it was his economy? It surely wasn't healthy to sleep and eat this much? Maybe it's the rain, he thought and went back to his food.
Alfred watched in fascination and with no small amount of arousal as his lover's stomach expanded with every swallow, knowing what a lovely layer of flab it would soon be.
Arthur growled in frustration as he polished off the last of his sandwich. His stomach was hardly satisfied, making sad gurgling noises in his lap. "Why can't I get full!?" he whined, turning to the platter of chips and taking handfuls to his mouth, chugging the last of the Sprite.
Alfred dug out another gallon and placed it on the table with a smirk, watching his lover pant with red cheeks as he struggled to cram as much food into his mouth as was physically possible, swallowing only to shove more in.
Soon Arthur had moved on to the cookies. He felt that his energy was depleting. He began to slow, sitting back as much as his chair would allow, taking a break, wheezing with his eyes fluttering, almost as if he were under the influence of alcohol or drugs.
Alfred snuck up behind and rubbed the belly gently, whispering to Arthur's ear soothingly, "You're not full, are you, babe?"
Alfred's large, warm hand on Arthur's stomach was so comforting, and as America left and quickly returned with another platter of cookies, Arthur realized that he was still hungry, starving in fact. "I-I am actually still quite famished, my dear. Thank you."
With this, Arthur dug back into his meal, feeling a burst of energy as he hurriedly finished the first batch of cookies and began on the second.
"I'll be right back with some brownies, babe!" America threw over his shoulder as he retreated to the oven.
Ah, brownies, thought Arthur with pleasure flowing through him. Alfred's brownies were heavenly. They were chocolatey and smooth, gooey on the inside with plenty of chips that melted right on the tongue. The second bottle of soda forced a belch past Arthur's lips as he finished, the man himself not halting in the least in devouring his treats. The bubbles of the pop formed a protective barrier about the lining of Arthur's belly, allowing the man to stuff himself more.
Alfred returned just as Arthur had finished the cookies, placing a large pan of brownies in front of him. America set a gallon of milk on the table beside the brownies before kissing the bloated man on his crown and waltzing back to his cooking station with the empty bottles of soda.
The brownies kept getting caught in his throat, forcing Arthur to take unwanted breaks to swig more milk, some of it dripping out the side of his mouth. The milk created an odd sort of soup in Arthur's belly, making his stomach visibly slosh about when he made any movement.
Halfway through the pan of brownies Arthur's belly began to protest. The waistband of his sweatpants was digging into the flesh of his belly. Maybe…? Arthur lowered the waist and his stomach immediately spilled forth onto his lap. Ah, much better, thought Arthur as he now had more room. He tucked back into his meal with gusto.
Alfred came in and set two more batches of sweets on the table along with another gallon of milk. Finally taking a seat beside Arthur and watching him stuff himself silly.
As Arthur finished off the brownies, he finally felt full, the skin of his stomach taut and round. However, Alfred had made those batches just for him, surely it would be horribly rude to leave them. Besides, he wasn't that full…
So, Arthur smiled thankfully at Alfred and picked up the new container of milk, chugging a third of it before beginning on the strawberry cobbler, accepting the offered vanilla ice cream. Though, right as Arthur finished the cobbler, his stomach sent a rush of pain to him, trying to find a place for all the food to go and finding itself utterly stuffed to the brim.
Arthur put his spoon down and moaned, trying to soothe his belly by rubbing circles about the aching thing.
"My poor baby", Alfred cooed, getting up from his chair and kissing Arthur on his sticky lips, placing his own hand on the tight skin before grabbing the last tray of cheesecake behind him and picking up a scoop with the discarded spoon, leveling it to Arthur's lips.
Arthus was distracted enough by the lovely rubbing of America's comforting hand that Alfred managed to feed him the entire dish, stopping only to give his lover some milk to wash everything down.
Alfred looked down at a panting Arthur and could already see that while his stomach was certainly stretched beyond its limits, many calories had already been added to his lover's body, sitting primarily on his hips and thighs. Being a nation, you gained quickly. Alfred suspected that in no time at all Arthur would be rounder and softer than ever. Alfred could hardly contain his glee at the prospect of cuddling with his Arthur.
While Arthur ached all over and couldn't catch his breath, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Though, his body did truly ache all over. He hoped Alfred was willing to help him up the stairs to their bed tonight, for he didn't think he could make it alone.
While Alfred washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, Arthur caught his breath from his binge session. He attempted to sit up more in his chair, but only managed to tire himself out. His stomach sat large on his lap and his thighs were straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. Even though the waistband had been pulled down, it still constricted his skin, biting into hips that were only getting larger as his body distributed the weight in his belly.
He would have to ask Alfred to buy him new clothes, thought Arthur.
Alfred returned then, grinning brightly as he glided up to his lover took hold of Arthur's shoulder lightly. "Wanna take a nap on the couch? You really do seem tired", said Alfred, caressing England's cheek lovingly.
Arthur nodded. Then, with cheeks dyed red, asked, "Do you think you could help me? I'm feeling quite sleepy."
Alfred nodded brightly, wrapping his arms around as much of Arthur's waist as he could reach, and hoisted him to his feet, tossing one chubby arm about his shoulders and keeping the other around Arthur's waist.
Most of Arthur's weight was leaning on America, and he was breathing heavily from being forced to his feet. They took a moment to breathe before they made their way to the living room. If Alfred were a human, he would not be able to almost carry a man Arthur's size. But then again, if Arthur were human there would be more concern for his health. Being as it was, though, they managed.
They exited through the doorway of the kitchen, Arthur struggling to keep his panting under control as they walked, despite the fact that it was primarily Alfred holding both their weights. However, the superpower's arms were strong and assuring, and Arthur knew he was in safe hands as Alfred eventually just picked Arthur up like a young bride and sat him on the couch.
Just like his stomach, Arthur's eyes felt heavy. His chest heaved as he breathed against Alfred who sat beside him on the couch. He could feel his stomach against his lap, pressing to Alfred's sides where they were close. "Oh", Arthur moaned, "my stomach aches horribly, Alfred."
"But you're happy, babe. I know that." Alfred smiled at him. " You only eat what your body needs, so if this is what it needs, don't hold back." He nuzzled into England's hair.
It was true, Arthur couldn't deny it. He was delighted with the full feeling in his stomach.
Arthur sighed, huffing with more that lost breath. "Fine. But I need new clothes soon, alright?" Arthur gestured to the general direction of his thighs, "These have become far too tight.
Alfred looked down and nodded. "I can go to the store right now. It's only 2." He scooted out from his sitting place and gently laid Arthur back, covering him with a blanket as his lover's eyes dropped.
"A-alright, but back… soon, dear…" Arthur sighed as he sank into sleep.
/
Two hours later Alfred returned to their home with bulging bags of groceries that he quickly began to stock the kitchen shelves with. With that done, America walked into the living room with a clothes bag to see that his lover hadn't moved an inch from where he'd left him.
Alfred took delight in seeing that the belly was taking up Arthur's entire lap, pouring over the edges of his thighs, and at how absolutely delectable his plump chest was looking.
Alfred took a seat in front of Arthur on the floor, setting the bag aside as he showered Arthur's belly with kisses, loving how the flesh gave way beneath him.
This, of course, woke Arthur, who smiled sleepily at America and slowly attempted to lean forward to kiss his love, only to find that that would result in his sweatpants digging into his sides more than it already was, and looked up somewhat helplessly at Alfred, who immediately understood and took action.
Alfred slowly removed the sweatpants, sliding them off as softly as he could as more skin was revealed.
Arthur watched sleepily, absently rubbing his now empty tummy. As Alfred tore away the last of the restricting garment, Arthur's thighs were freed. Pale and plump and perfect, thought Alfred as he kissed them. England giggled sweetly.
Now Arthur was naked on the couch. So gorgeous, thought America.
At this point, Arthur's belly took up all of his lap now, and his backside was very comfortable where it was its own cushion amongst the pillows.
Alfred grabbed a fold on the tummy and handled it since it was large enough to allow all his fingers inside the crevices.
Arthur's ears tinted pink as the pleasure grew in his crotch, now hidden beneath his large belly.
"You've grown so well." Alfred complimented, utterly entranced by his lover's body.
Arthur pushed America away with a weak hand. "I'm not in the mood, dear heart." He really was still exhausted, even after his nap. "Perhaps another time…?", he asked hopefully.
"'Course, babe." Alfred released him, "Whenever you feel up to it."
From the bag Alfred pulled out a pair of sweatpants, only, compared to the ones currently on the floor, this one had the Union Jack printed all over it. And the size was clearly larger than the last one. America handed it to the cubby man on the couch, then went back to the bag. "Aaannnddd…", he said, pulling out a large grey shirt and cute unicorn socks.
"Thank you, dear." Arthur sighed happily at his thoughtful presents, hugging them to his plush chest.
"Here, babe," Alfred said as he took the shirt from England's hands and had him hold his arms up to the best of his ability as he slid the comfy shirt around Arthur's torso.
Next, he stood Arthur up with only slight difficulty and had Arthur lift one fat leg up as he slid the pant leg on, then doing the same for the next leg before pulling the whole thing over Arthur's generous ass. He stepped back from his work as Arthur stood patiently.
America looked his lover up and down before leaping forward and wrapping himself around Arthur, their bodies becoming one as Alfred sank into the soft flesh, keeping them both standing as he took in the sweet smell of his baby. "You look so frickin' hot right now, babe." He growled huskily.
Alfred sat them both on the couch when Arthur's legs threatened to give out under his weight. Alfred grinned as his lover wheezed. Then, Arthur's stomach growled loudly, protesting its discomfort at being empty.
"How about we get you to bed," Alfred suggested lightly. "I'll bring you your food, then we can go straight to bed. How does that sound?"
"That sounds lovely," Arthur replied.
"Let's go then", said Alfred, taking Arthur by his waist and pulling him up again. He let Arthur take his time reaching the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the 12 or so steps and wondering if Arthur could still make it since he had done so this morning.
Meanwhile, Arthur followed behind at a snail's pace, waddling slowly towards his lover, breath heaving. His large thighs rubbed against each other and his legs were burning. Was he ill? Arthur though vaguely.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Alfred gestured for him to go first. He took hold of the banister and heaved himself up the first step, grunting with the effort of pulling all his weight against gravity. He looked up and groaned in despair at the distance. This was going to be difficult.
Again, he gripped a new part of the banister and pulled, his legs quivering and his stomach in the way, his legs rubbing together harshly. Then Alfred was behind him, his solid form gently pushing Arthur forward and winding one arm about his tummy to help heft him up each step.
After a few minutes, the pair found their way to the top. Alfred went on ahead to the bedroom and Arthur shuffled after. When they were beside the California king bed, Arthur tried to lift his leg on the bed, but ultimately failed and waited patiently for Alfred to help him.
Oddly enough, England didn't feel the least bit helpless. Maybe slightly pampered, but not helpless.
Alfred picked Arthur up, his pushiness spilling over the muscular arms, and placed him on the covers.
Alfred made sure that Arthur was comfortable before leaving him in bed with some milk and a large chocolate bar.
Alfred later returned with 6 bags of McDonald's, all completely stuffed with food. Arthur finished his meal in under 45 minutes, astonishing even Alfred as he laid down after his meal with his bloated belly and smiled sleepily at Alfred.
Running a mental checklist, Alfred summarized Arthur's dinner: 9 Big Macs, 2 large fries, 2 20-piece Chicken Nuggets, and a vanilla milkshake. Alfred himself had only had one Big Mac and a medium fries.
With eyes wide open, Alfred added the calories from the last meal and realized that he had just fed his lover an astounding 25,206 calories in a single day. Wow, thought Alfred. If Arthur was human, he would most likely be dead. Luckily for him though, he wasn't.
After cleaning up the wrappers in a bit of a sexually driven trance, America returned to the bedroom and laid beside his lover. America placed his hand on Arthur's bulging stomach and noticed just how much a difference this day had made on his body. Alfred hugged his lover and felt how soft Arthur's hips were.
To the sound of Arthur's whispering breath and, with some shame, to the discomforted sounds of the bloated belly as it was forced to distribute all it had been fed, his arms wrapped around as much of the large man's waist as he could, and fell beneath the heavy veil of sleep.