Jake's father, Paul, had a dirty secret. Paul was bisexual. This was not his secret. Paul liked bigger boys. Not just bigger... fatter. Paul liked the idea of a guy gorging himself to the point of obesity and loving it. This, while being something he did not openly admit to, was not Paul's specific secret. Paul like younger guys. MUCH younger. Paul liked the idea of fattening up young boys, feeding them and squeezing their soft, growing bellies... and it disgusted him. Paul liked fat little boys, but hated himself for it.
Paul himself was a well built 5'10". He frequently went to the gym and ate healthily, partly in rebellion against his shameful desires. He cared for his son Jake with all his heart. He had to put in the extra effort, since his mother passed away in labor. Jake was an average 6 year old boy, goofy and into trucks and dinosaurs and the color red. Ever since Jake was born Paul promised he would never, EVER place his desires on his son, and he had stayed true to his word. Jake was slim, and he always ate average amounts. He never snacked. He played outside a lot. Paul was confident that his most shameful secrets would never have to haunt him in the real world.
This thought of course, was shaken as Paul sat across from Jake at the dinner table. Jake was ravenously tearing through his third plate of steak and potatoes. His flat stomach had bulged out from the stuffing, causing his shirt to ride up. Paul's legs quivered in his seat as Jake tore into the thick meat joyously. After finishing that third plate, Jake leaned back patted his stomach and sighed. "Great dinner, Dad! What's for dessert?"
The past two weeks, Jake had been acting strange. His appetite had gone through the roof! Suddenly he was snacking all day. When Jake insisted he go shopping with Paul, it seemed sweet at first, but Jake coerced Paul into buying twice the weekly budget and all in soft drinks, chips and other things he otherwise wouldn't buy. Paul felt weak for giving in, and looking across at his gluttonous son he hated how he felt about all of this.
"H-haven't you had enough? You aren't full?" Paul said, his voice slightly wavering.
"Of course I'm full, I just ate like three steaks! But they were sooooo gooooood, and so is dessert!" Jake grinned! He hopped up out of his seat like his binge was nothing and opened the fridge, pulling out a tub of ice cream. He popped it open and grabbed a spoon as Paul watched, wide eyed.
"Jake, you can't just..." He started, but his son cut him off.
"Oh crud! I already ate like half of it earlier..." He said to himself. "Oh well," and he started to dig in.
Paul gulped. His hand unconsciously slid down his own inner thigh, but once he realized where it was going he jerked it up, banging it it against the table. "Oh, shhhhhhhhoot..." He caught himself from cussing. Jake hadn't noticed, he was scraping the bottom of the ice cream tub.
"Wow, that was good! I'm so stuffed, Dad!" Jake leaned back and rubbed his swollen gut.
"Uh huh..." Paul's cheeks reddened. "W-we've got to get you to bed. No more food tonight." He slid out of his own chair and grabbed Jake's shoulder, leading him to bed. "Night Jake... Love you." Paul said through the door. He then slid down against the wall and groaned into his hands. What on Earth was happening?
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