Work Text:
Bobby woke up to the feeling of a cold, veiny hand softly rubbing his chest, sharp nails gently digging into the pliant chub of his moobs. He let out a sharp breath into his CPAP mask as the hand began to graze his sensitive, puffy nipples, only for him to hear a smug chuckle before the touch suddenly vanished.
He sighed disappointedly, for this had been his morning routine for months now. The demon wakes up in the morning, plays with Bobby’s body a bit, and is elsewhere before he could even think clearly. It was a comfortable arrangement—he spent his entire career taking care of Huntrix, so to be the one taken care of was something he wasn’t used to, but oh-so desperately needed.
Well, Bobby wasn’t being taken care of in the traditional sense, This was meticulous, planned out with the utmost thought and care, and he could feel it. He grew accustomed to feeling Abby run his fingers over his ever expanding body, then falling back asleep until feeling the light weight of a fast food meal on his chest, turning off his CPAP machine, taking off the mask, eating the meal and then waiting until his second meal comes an hour and thirty minutes later, repeat five meals until five o’clock when Abby comes home and praises Bobby for how well he ate for him. The math behind the operation was simple. For his short stature, he needs to eat 5,000 calories a day to maintain a gain of six pounds a week for three months, 68 pounds gained by the time Huntrix’s hiatus ends, but Bobby knew Abby wouldn’t let him go after just that. After a year he will gain 272 pounds, more than doubling his start weight when Abby first “moved in”.
There was a certain elegance to the schedule.
Bobby found comfort in numbers; the way their pure, unadulterated value never shifted or fluctuated. Sure, the values that said numbers represented could fluctuate, but the numbers, the pure numbers, they never change. He can keep track of streams, album sales, tweets using specific hashtags. To his logical mind, of course, these are just social media numbers. They weren’t the end of the world.
But something about seeing numbers rise and rise made him feel… strange.
He loved seeing the number on his bathroom scale go up. He loved tracking the width of his hips, the circumference of his thighs, calculating what his cup size would be if he wore a bra.
It’s a shameful hobby, to obsess over your weight, your fat distribution, your garment measurements. You will be accused of an eating disorder. People will think you want to shrink yourself, but nothing could be further from the truth.
They don’t get it.
It’s not an ED. I just want control.
I’m not trying to constrict myself. I’m documenting changes to my body as they happen.
I’m not a prescriptivist. I’m a descriptivist.
Bobby rarely found time for this indulgence, unfortunately. Huntrix was always in the top three, rivaling Twice and BTS. It was a stable position, albeit stable because of his management and inexplicable ability to always get his girls back to the top. That is, until recently.
A brand new company? ‘Gwi-Ma Entertainment’? Debuting another five member boy group? How many more do we need? For God’s sake, another soft boy concept?? Their debut single sounds like a scrapped MOTS: Persona B-side. THEIR FANCLUB ALREADY HAS FIFTY MILLION MEMBERS???
This must be chart manipulation.
Who do these nugus think they are???
They can’t bring down Huntrix. Not his girls.
But…
The muscular one caught Bobby’s eye. Clinging to the other members like a needy little puppy. He’s so thin too, ahww, poor thing… he must not eat enough food to be so toned and sculpted and- mnghhhh.
This is strange. Usually, Bobby isn’t into muscular guys. He’s usually into guys with the same build as himself. It makes sense, when you spend so much time documenting your own body, wouldn’t you grow to… appreciate it too?
Whatever, these boys are just a fad. Think about all the other rookies that had a majorly popular debut only to fall off a couple comebacks later. They will have only one comeback and not another person will give a shit about them after that. His girls are too robust to falter to something that feels so manufactured, unauthentic, unreal.
He was right.
Exactly one comeback.
Never to be seen again.
That is, until he woke up to glowing yellow eyes staring him down.
Bobby jolted up, rubbing his eyes. Surely, his mind was just seeing things. He blinked, instead of finding the eyes, he was met with a note.
I’ll be back at 9 o’clock darling <3 hope you’re hungry
- Abby
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. H-how.
Maybe it’s carbon monoxide poisoning.
No it can’t be, his detector is working perfectly fine.
Maybe his landlord left it?
Wait no, this apartment is paid off, a three year anniversary gift from the girls. There’s no landlord.
WAIT- maybe they did it?
Bobby pulled his phone off his nightstand, launching into their group chat.
Bobby: WTF GUYS??? Not cool. Not cool, not funny.
Zoey: ⁉️
Bobby: The note?!?!?!?!?!?!
Mira: what note >:/
Bobby: THE ABBY NOTE
Rumi: Wait what’s going on ?
Zoey: bobby and abby sitting in a tree ‼️ ㅋㅣㅅㅅㅣㄴㄱ 😹😹😹🤣🤣
Mira: lmfaoooo bobby x abby canon btw
Bobby: I’m serious.
Mira: im being so fr rn idfk what ur talking abt srry
Bobby slumped back to his bed, racking his mind for what possibly could’ve been the explanation for the mysterious note, until nine o’clock came.
“Oh Bobby, I missed you so much…” A voice whispered seductively from the side of the bed Bobby wasn’t paying attention to.
Before Bobby could react, Abby wrapped his arms around him, leaning into him in a way that said he owned him.
Abby gazed deep into his eyes, worried and pitiful. “You poor thing, you look malnourished.”
“I- No I’m not! I’m plenty big as I am-!” Bobby protested weakly.
“You and I both know you are starved compared to who you were supposed to be. I know what you wish you were,” Abby stated bluntly, smug yet sympathetic.
“I- I can’t focus on that right now-! I have my girls- they’re like my daughters! I can’t support them if I let myself become a…”
“...What? a glutton?” The demon chided.
He could feel his resolve start to crumble the longer Abby held him.
It’s intoxicating.
“Oh don’t worry doll, they will be just fine. Now, I brought you your breakfast! Eat up like a good boy, will you?”
Right as Abby finished, his presence was replaced by a cardboard fast food bag.
It looked so enticing.
After all, he is hungry.
Two months had passed and Abby was wrecking him, and Bobby couldn’t get enough of it.
He was resting peacefully in his bed. Laying on his back, hands folded over his belly, his thumbs gently running over his stretch marks. God, he had so many new stretch marks. His forearms felt different too, squishier and meatier, down to the crease where they met his hands. His hands were even pudgier, the backs of his hands domed and pliant, with his already thick fingers even more sausage-y.
He slowly moved his hand from his lower belly up towards his upper arm, passing over his softly domed upper belly, over his moobs with their own stretch marks, past his puffy inflamed nipples. His fingers grazed his arm, the skin soft and fragile. Unsurprisingly, it was also adorned with stretch marks, really, no part of his body wasn’t. He gave a gentle squeeze, and his fingers sunk in deep. He let out a rugged breath. He didn’t know why that got him going so much, but it did.
He turned over, pulling his CPAP mask off his face. He knew he was supposed to keep it on. He knew his sleep apnea was getting worse the more and more Abby fed him, but some part of his subconscious liked it better with it off. Not because of discomfort, but because feeling his weight on his breath was borderline addictive. Was it breath play? He didn’t have the time to think about it.
Well, he did, but his brain was turning to mush. He could feel himself getting dumber by the day. On one hand, it was terrifying. He knew he used to think on his own. He knew all the numbers that made him excited just a few months ago were just too much for his brain to handle. But on the other hand? It was pure, unadulterated pleasure. Ignorance is bliss, afterall. Although, it wasn’t true ignorance, it was rather… fetishised laziness. He knew he was being trained to be Abby’s perfect good boy, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
His hunger was growing. Abby always fed him his predetermined servings, and each time, Bobby would beg him for more. It started out asking for a milkshake with a meal rather than soda, but every time Abby dramatically sighed and gave in to his demands, the more and more famished he felt, and the more and more food it took to fill his hunger. His projected weight gain by now would be roughly fifty pounds, but he knew damn well he gained more than just that.
He wasn’t immobile yet, but his sedentariness would imply it. He hadn’t stood up on his own in at least two weeks, always begging Abby to hold his hand, which he always happily obliged. Bobby wasn’t even above 300 yet, but he behaved in a way you’d expect from someone twice his size. Deep down he knew he still had a chance. He could get out of this cycle, he could lose the weight and get back to his girls, but the hedonistic euphoria of what had become of him was addictive. He was a junky, and Abby was more than happy to make him even worse.
Bobby had almost entirely dozed off at that point, clutching his upper arm like a comforting teddy bear. His rest was soon broken by a comforting voice.
“I’m home, darling~” The demon said with a sweet grin. “You’re plumping up so well for me, aren’t you~”
“Y-yes I-I am…” He shivered as Abby sat at the foot of the bed, reaching out and groping Bobby’s thighs with his talon-like nails. The demon had stopped presenting as a human, opting for the chilling but more sensual look of purple patterned skin rather than the kawaii look Bobby first fell head over heels for.
Abby tutted in reply. “Of course you are. Can you even reach yourself anymore?” His tone had a sadistic swing to it, while also having a veneer of concern for his pet lover.
“I-”
Before Bobby could even answer, the demon spoke for him.
“Of course you can’t, well, perhaps you could, but my darling baby boy wouldn’t dream of relieving himself without his owner, would he, hm?”
One part of Bobby wanted to argue, but the other part of him knew he couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
His silence speaks volumes.
“I thought so, pet.”
Bobby let out a defeated whimper as Abby’s hand slipped up towards his overhang.
“Poor thing, you must be so pent up, hmm~? My baby can’t even touch himself with all this lard in the way, awww~” Abby smirked. “What’s the magic word~?” He said with a sing-songy type of voice.
“P-please…” Bobby spits out, God, he’s so pathetic, so needy. He just can’t help himself.
“Good boy~” Abby whispers.
The demon’s hands start to tug at Bobby’s pajama shorts, pulling them out from under his overhang and down his thick tree trunk thighs. He would be so exposed if it weren’t for the damp chastity belt of fat surrounding his buried cock. Abby could feel his pet’s hard-on form from the way he shifted and wobbled, desperate to feel the demon’s cold fingers claw into his dick. Bobby’s fat pad dominated his crotch space, leaving only an inch or so of usable cock for Abby to work with. Really, it was a nub. Bobby was circumcised, but Abby found that hard to believe. His dick was so useless and suffocated in lard that it looked like his foreskin grew back. The demon prodded and played with the mound of fat surrounding Bobby’s boner, gently grazing the tip of his nub like a Project Diva star note. Jesus, even ‘nub’ is generous. He could be mistaken for a trans man with bottom growth. As Abby continued to poke and prod, Bobby continued to moan and whimper against the demon’s cold fingers.
“Unhhhh~ please… keep going… uhng~~ oh my fuck…” Bobby groaned as he started to grind (to the best of his abilities) against Abby’s hand.
“Hm. Eager to finish are we~?” the demon teased.
“P-please… I’m begging you-! Pleeeeease…” Bobby’s whining turned to sobs, his humping growing more frantic the more and more time Abby spent idle at the pig’s overgrown clit of a penis.
“Okay fine, you’ve been a good boy, so I’ll let you have it this time.”
The demon finally shifted his grip to Bobby’s dick, playing with it between his fingers like a fidget toy.
“UNGH~~ OH MY FUCKING GOD-” Bobby cried out, his underbelly and Abby’s hand drenched in sweat and cum.
“Ugh, what a mess you’ve made,” Abby complained with a smile on his face. “We should give you a bath tonight, huh~”
Bobby put his CPAP mask on, trying to stabilise his breath. “Just… give me a few minutes…”
The demon licked the cum off his fingers and nodded.
“If you insist, doll.”