"A Summer in the farm" by yourcaretakerart Part I chapter 6

And that was how that athletic city boy called Kyle, in just almost one year in Garrison’s farm, doubled his weight, turning into a stunning handsome strongman, a prodigy of virility overall consideration. Kyle´s body was impressive, but watching him at work or eating at the kitchen table was much more … a true spectacle.

It was a sunny summer day. Kyle was piling up newly arrived barrels while Alfred proudly observed how the boy carried, not just one of those heavy containers but two at the same time without the slightest sign of struggle. The explanation for such herculean strength was totally in sight, for Kyle became so big that his boundless torso of imposing chest was unable to be covered by his overalls apron anymore, which hung resembling a barbarian loincloth, making Kyle look like the young reincarnation of a primitive Nordic god in the XXI century.

When Kyle was done with his task he stood beside Alfred. The farmer put his hands on his waist with an expression of astonishment, “Jesus, boy, you piled up those barrels in no time!”

“Yup!” Kyle answered, “Now this work has become so easy, uncle, haha!”

“It didn’t become easy, my boy!” Alfred corrected him, “You became stronger!”

Kyle manifested his agreement by impulsively raising his trunk-wide arm, flexing his pumped-up bicep, grunting a “Yeaaah!”, then he shot Alfred a radiant grin of lighthearted cockiness and satisfaction.

The farmer observed the way Kyle´s arm muscles contracted vigorously as he flexe them, so big and thick that they seemed to compete for room against each other to bulge out on the boy’s upper limb. Noticing a more significant size on his guns and new lumps, Alfred glanced between Kyle and a livestock scale.

“Kyle, my child, get on there,” Alfred said putting his hand on the big boy´s forearm to lead him to the weighing machine on which the farmer used to check the mass gains of his horses and bulls.

Kyle just landed on the plate with a grunt and turned around swinging his broad shoulders heavily. Both were staring at the screen while it flashed changing numbers, expectant. The digits started to vary slowlier … 289 … 295 … 299 … 302 Kyle compulsively put his hand on his beefy stomach with a thud and his huge chest stopped going up and down, holding his breath. The reading finally flicked on the screen indicating the definitive result as the amazement got drawn on Alfred´s face.

“Jesus, my boy, you weigh 295 pounds! Big and strong as a Percheron horse!”

Kyle instinctively, sucked his belly in as he arched back his torso, making his well-developed pecs protrude, even more, towering over Alfred´s head, and said, “Yup! 295 pounds of muscle … and gut, uncle!” The boy added smiling while pushing his gut out to give it a couple of strong slaps that were repeated from echo to echo by the walls.

Alfred patted Kyle´s stomach on the bow of thick fat below the boy´s navel with a gesture of unconcern, “A big man´s gotta eat, right?”

“Haha, exactly, uncle!” Kyle agreed, “Talking about eating, carrying those barrels got me hungry, I´m starving! Oooooff!” The big boy said feeling his gut with one hand all over.

While they headed for home, on the occasion of Kyle´s 295 pounds, he and Alfred talked about the last remarks from the neighbors and other farmers that occasionally visited Garrisons and therefore, witnessed Kyle´s changes along his growth progression. Some of those statements were formulated in the shape of jokes and hyperboles. However, those were the ones that Kyle felt more identified with and more encouraged, such as: “Alfred, it seems that everything that falls in your hands gets huge!”, “Boy, Garrisons are breeding you as if you were one of their horses and bulls!”, “Oh my God! Bertha, Alfred, what have you done to his city boy? Are you thinking of showing him off at the livestock fair to win the top prize for you?”.

Bertha was in the kitchen, stirring a big pot full of meatballs on the stove, whose three other burners were taken by several large containers. Suddenly she heard firm heavy steps crackling on the porch stairs, coming closer and the home door got opened strongly with a grunt like pushed by a blast, and a deep manly voice, that sounded loud without shouting, asked determined to get answered at once, “Auntie, I´m starving!! What´s for lunch??!!”

Bertha, startled, turned around quickly, and said with a tone of exasperation, “Kyle! You did it again! Every time you come from work you open the door rough. There´s no need to push the door that way to open; you can break it or hurt someone!”

“Oh, I´m sorry, auntie!” Kyle apologized taking his hand to his nape, revealing his dense furry armpit, and trying to keep a smile on his face, distorted by his embarrassment. He justified himself, “It´s just that when I come back from work, I´m so hungry and it smells so delicious as hell that … ooooooff! I can only think of eating!”

The old woman got back to stirring the meatballs and said without taking her eyes off of the pot, still with evidence of annoyance, “Yeah, and after a few days you’ll do it again”, then, after a few seconds of silence, she turned to the huge bulky boy, “Next time I won´t bake foreign desserts for you anymore” she warned him waving threateningly her ladle, resembling a tamer using his riding crop to intimidate a beast

Kyle stepped toward Bertha and wrapped his muscular arm around the older woman to squeeze her softly against his side and said with a comical voice of suffering, “Oh, no please, auntie, don´t do that to me, make me work double-time if you want, but don´t be so cruel as to leave this poor skinny boy without your desserts” then Kyle pushed his belly out hard to make it look bigger and rounder less than one foot away from Bertha´s eyes, slapping it ponderously as he said looking down to her, “Too skinny, I need to keep growing more! Hehe” and fleshed a smile hoping to get one back from the upset old woman.

Bertha looked down at the pot to keep moving her ladle round in the stew and she couldn't help but smile, “Come on, silly boy, stop playing the fool. If you´re so hungry there´s Russian salad in the fridge. These meatballs need some more minutes”

“Oh, Russian salad!” Kyle said approaching straight away the double-door refrigerator without losing any second.

“Yeah, sweety, I made for first course that European thing you wanted to try, but if you´re so hungry you can take some now.

At that moment, Alfred came into the kitchen to grab a beer, “Kyle, my boy! That broad back of yours has become so wide that you almost cover the whole fridge!”

Kyle glanced at the old man over his shoulder to say, “Almost?”, roaring as he expanded his overdeveloped large lats hard to make sure to hide every inch of the mentioned appliance, almost doubling his back size out of the blue, resembling an eagle spreading his wings about to take flight.

That exhibition blew Alfred away, “Haha, now I can´t see it at all! Wide as a wardrobe!”

When Bertha was about to hand Kyle a plate and a spoon, she saw with widened eyes Kyle holding the platter full of Russian salad with one hand and eating directly from it with its serving spoon at full charge; slightly bowed to eat from that container, his bulging wide loans and distended belly drew heavily a burly S curve that fitted his animal way of devouring

Kyle looked at Bertha with puffed cheeks, holding so much food in them that it was almost impossible to speak to him, so he just let out one muffled word that sounded more like a grunt from a Viking barbarian, ”Hungry!” and got back to the platter.

Bertha took one hand to her cheek, “Haha, oh sweety, I think I´ve underestimated your hunger!”

Alfred took a beer from the fridge, “You did, Bertha! No need for a dish; for our Kyle, that whole platter is just an appetizer, isn´t it, child?” the farmer asked patting Kyle´s lat while the hungry boy just nodded his head without taking his eyes off of the platter, grunting as he opened up his mouth to gobble down more and more overloaded serving spoons. Then Alfred cracked open his beer, “Kyle weights 295 lb; this strongman deserves all that food to fuel his bulk up and join the 300-pound beast category soon, hehe!”

“Oh, indeed!” Bertha answered while indulging herself in Kyle as he cleared the last rest of the Russian salad, holding the platter closer to his mouth so as not to miss anything of it, “But you came from work earlier; lunch isn´t ready yet, I thought you said that today you had more work than usual”.

Alfred took a sip from his beer, “And we had, but Kyle started carrying those barrels in pairs! So we´re done before I expected!”

Bertha turned her head to Kyle dropping her jaw, “Oh, dear! To think that when you came here you almost weren´t able to lift one of them!”

By the time the old woman emitted her sentence, Kyle took the last spoonful to his mouth and tossed the clear platter at the sink, “Look at these muscles, auntie!”, then, still chewing the last bite, he flexed his pumped-up arms in different ways while roaring, now swelling up his biceps more and more at each contraction, now making his triceps stick out like a heavy horseshoe, “I’m even bigger, right?”, Kyle asked, glancing between his arms and Bertha with a grin of cool swagger on his face and sparkles of wild craziness in his eyes, expecting more flattering words from her at the same time he wanted to be fun, ”you can´t let me down, untie! Keep those big servings coming for me!”.

“Indeed, sweety, now those are muscles! You´re a good man to have around in a sticky spot. Such a strong boy! … By the way, you did like that Russian salad, right?

“I did love it, auntie!!!” Kyle answered still showing off his muscles with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I can believe it” Bertha agreed, then, she added with a shrug and a tone of sentiment, “You even forgot to leave a little bit for us … we´re not gonna even try some”

Kyle stopped short flexing, widening his eyes, petrified for a moment into the most muscular pose he was performing when getting aware of his mistake. All his cockiness fade away in a second to make way for his adorable embarrassed smile among apologies. After Alfred and Bertha burst out laughing at such a comical reaction, the old woman said, “It´s ok, sweety, haha, and have a shower if you want to get more comfortable, those meatballs are almost done but they need some more minutes”

After Kyle came back lightning fast in his short jeans and sat at the kitchen table, he hit his heel on the floor repeatedly, impatient while observing the old woman piling up all those meatballs on a large plate for him, except a few ones for her and her husband. The way those meatballs dropped dense gravy as they landed on the plate turned Kyle even more impatient, who leaned forward extending his thick arms quickly to grab the dish before Bertha could even put it on the table to start eating as soon as possible, “Oooooh give me, auntie!! It looks so dead tasteful!!

Alfred dragged his chair to join the table as he observed pleased Kyle eager to eat, “My boy, you’ve just eaten up that entire platter of Russian salad and yet you look as if you hadn´t eaten for weeks!”

Kyle just started sticking his fork in those juicy meatballs as if he were afraid they could run away, “I´m still starving!!”. Up to five big pieces, the anxious boy got into his mouth at once, whose irresistible taste triggered him to stick back more of them before he could even gulp down the previous ones in his maw around intense groans of pleasure.

Bertha placed next to Kyle´s plate a big bowl full of mashed potatoes that she poured with well-loaded ladlefuls on his meatballs as a garnish, then she patted Kyle´s lush blond hair, “You´re such a big man, Kyle! You eat those meatballs as if they were peas!”

Kyle just focused on gobbling down and answered without taking his eyes off his food “I am! GRRRR. What´s inside that other pot, auntie?” he asked dragging the words through those meatballs in his mouth and gesturing with his head tors the stove...

The farmer, glad by Kyle´s reaction, said “My boy, you aren´t done with all those meatballs yet and you´re already thinking of the second course, haha, soon we´ll have to use goose eggs for breakfast instead of chicken eggs to keep our big man well-fed!”

Kyle flashed a grin that looked even wider as his greedy massive mouthfuls expanded his mouth from ear to ear and showed his thumb up as a way to express his validation. Then, he insisted rising his eyebrows tors that pot to know its content.

Bertha took a bite from the meatball she has on his folk and said, “Well, sweety, there´s mac and cheese in there”

As soon as Kyle heard those words, his eyes got near to pop out with enthusiasm, and was quick to gulp down noisily to speak, “Mac and cheese!!! I love you´re mac and cheese, Auntie!!!”, and he got back to his current plate, to get his teeth into the mentioned second course as soon as possible.

Bertha winked at her husband, “Yeah, honey, but that mac and cheese is for dinner if you eat it too I´d have to cook again for tonight”

Kyle suddenly stopped eating to look worried at the old woman, petrified with bloated cheeks, “Oh … no mac and cheese for lunch?” he asked with a tone of disappointment and sadness.

Bertha answered holding back her laughter, “I thought that you´d be well satisfied with all that good amount of meatballs and mashed potatoes after all that Russian salad, especially when I´m preparing lately bigger batches as you wanted, not to mention those two large sandwiches you had for work pause”

“This will probably be enough” Kyle answered, “but it´s just that everything you cook tastes so delicious, auntie, and I love so much your mac and cheese; you can´t mention it and expect me not to want to eat some” then he smiled trying to conceal in vain his begging eyes.

Alfred, that was having fun with Kyle´s reaction, intervened to push his hope to the end, “Well, Bertha, taking into account that our Kyle is now a 295 lb big man he might need a third course; you said this boy is a good man to have around in a sticky spot; you have to keep him well fed, don´t you think?”

Kyle responded lightning fast with one of his impressive double biceps and the irresistible combo of his wide grin of playful cockiness and sparkling gaze of funny craziness, locking his eyes on Bertha to have her approval.

Bertha was unable to repress her laughter anymore, “Haha, oh Kyle, I can´t say ‘no’ to you, honey,” and placed his hand on Kyle´s cheek, “of course you can have that mac and cheese for the third course”

Kyle strongly raised his fists and shouted roaring, “HELL YEEAAAH!” and after vigorously hitting his fist against the palm of his other hand a couple of times, he got back to his meatballs with mashed potatoes to polish them off in a second.

Meanwhile, Bertha stood up to pick up another large plate, which she filled pilling up big bunches of mac and cheese til emptying the whole pot

Since Kyle was already holding his current plate close to his mouth to push with his fork every last bit of those meatballs and mashed potatoes into his maw, Bertha had room on the table to put that mac and cheese down right in front of the big boy. As soon as Kyle handed his empty plate to the old woman, he looked down with greedy eyes at the sight of that so much desired third coursed, letting out a groan while spreading his thick legs and arching back his massive torso to push out his gut trying to accommodate his growing fullness on his stomach for more. Then he started sticking his fork several times in the mac and cheese with much more strength than he needed to form an overcharged forkful, brimming in such a way that most of it looked near to plummeting while approaching Kyle´s opened-up mouth. When the big boy tasted that nicely blunting huge cheese and macaroni massive amalgam, he rolled back his eyes grunting with pleasure looking at the ceiling, chewing in such an energic way that his squeezed lips seemed to float freely in ample circles around his face of bloated cheeks. As that impossible to contain mouthful churned in his overwhelmed maw, its homemade cheese segregated torrents of succulent fat, triggering the boy to stick his fork in the food for more at once.

Kyle was enjoying that mac and cheese with such vehemence that he totally forgot to drink something while gobbling it down. When he packed that entire plate away he said with heaviness due to his well-stuffed stomach.  “Aaauuugh … delicious … I´m so thirsty!” still chewing the last bite.

Kyle was quick to grab and take to his mouth the water jug Bertha was about to pick up to fill his glass. He swallowed with strong gurgling sounds that got louder and louder as Kyle raised his head more and more till looking straight at the ceiling, totally exposing the way his prominent adam´s apple contracted to wash down big amounts of liquid in one go every last drop; emptied the jug, the big boy plopped it down on the table with a big blow and he whipped his mouth with his forearm letting out a severe grunt, then he pulled down with his hands his jeans' waistband to relieve its uncomfortable pinching under his overblown gut for a couple of seconds; an unequivocal sign that Kyle would have to unfasten his jeans soon.

Kyle, feeling some air pushing to get out after that sudden entry of such a huge amount of liquid into his stomach, frowned his face and clutched abruptly his plumped belly with both hands as if he was afraid for a second of bursting, then a thunderous burp came out from the depths of his stomach while opening up his big mouth and twisting his lips grotesquely, arching his torso totally back to lengthen that belch so as to squeeze out every last ounce of air.

Hearing Alfred and Bertha´s remarks of admiration as background sound, Kyle looked down at his protruding gut with disbelief portrayed on his expanded eyes and half-opened mouth; part of the satiety he started feeling time ago faded away together with the gas his body expelled.

Alfred leaned till his big boy, who followed with squinted eyes the farmer´s hand landing on his well-overfed massive gut to rub it up and down and press fleetingly with his fingers before striking a couple of good slaps.

Alfred delivered his diagnosis, “This gut of yours recovered some room for more after that big burp … ready to hit 300 lbs soon, hehe”

Kyle suddenly looked up from his stomach to lock his gaze on the smirking face of the old man, feeling more than ever like a part of his noticeable livestock, owned by an expert farmer that exactly knows in depth his animals’ bodies and instincts to make them grow at their biggest.

Despite holding inside his stomach not only a whole platter of Russian salad, an almost entire pot of meatballs with mashed potatoes but also a big pot of mac and cheese that was supposed to be for dinner, the big boy, following an impulse stronger than his mind, looked with infused gluttony at the last container on the stove left to be uncovered. Then he just put his hands on the table as his thick triceps bulged out on his huge arms to help his heavy bulk stand up, he approached the large skillet and removed its lid; an anxious grunt of pleasure escaped from his mouth at the sight and smell of a Spanish tortilla, so big and thick like a car tire.

Bertha, who like Alfred, observed the way Kyle reacted to that food, explained, “You know what, sweety? I improved it; I added caramelized onion and big pieces of sausages! If you wanna try, sit down and I’ll take it out for you, honey”

Indeed, those juicy sausages impregned that omelet’s color during its broth with a tempting reddish tint that made that muscle beast salivate despite keeping in his gut much more food than ever. Kyle just went back next to his chair at the kitchen table, and before sitting down, he quickly took his hands to his short jeans front rise; up to three times he tried unsuccessfully to unfasten his tight short jeans buttons, so he took such a huge breath sucking in his utterly overblown stomach, leaning back so heavily, that his bulky upper torso looked about to burst, rising his massive chest so much that his neck and frowned face seemed, from Alfred and Bertha´s seats, about to sink between his overdeveloped beefy pecs, which vigorously bulged out as the big boy growled and fumbled to unbutton his jeans. Once opened, he relaxed his gut expanding it, showing for a while its true massive size in Alfred and Bertha´s very eyes before plopping down heavily on his chair with a grunt.

The farmer looked at his wife, “Our big boy hasn´t opened his jeans just to try a couple of pieces of that Spanish tortilla, Bertha, hehe”

To be continued.