(Contains sexual activity, extreme male inflation, and disobedient research participants.)
“Are American soldiers getting too fat to fight? A new report shows that more than half of all active duty servicemen are classified as overweight -- and unless something changes, they’re expected to keep getting fatter.”
Ryan shook his head in disgust as the same old headless, flabby bodies bounced across his TV screen. He hardly needed the news to tell him what he saw every day. Between his roommate Drew and the countless other porkers in the unit, he could barely believe half of them had been passing their physicals. Months of unlimited food and a lack of emphasis on physical activity had left him surrounded by an army of overfed pigs.
This was never a problem for Ryan. Not that he didn’t take advantage of the food as much as anyone, but he worked it all off: first thing in the morning, again before dinner, and sometimes a third time before bed. Every time he saw a fat comrade waddle by, it motivated him to be the exact opposite. And every time he saw a guy outdoing him at the gym, it motivated him to catch up.
The reporter was talking to a man whose uniform looked ready to burst at the seams. Just as Ryan changed the channel, the door opened and Drew appeared, looking not unlike the interviewee. He silently greeted Ryan, breathless from the walk home, as he made a beeline for the stash of care package snacks his parents were all too faithful in replenishing. He began stuffing his face in the most repulsive display.
Ryan had found his motivation. He turned off the TV and headed for his room to change back into his workout clothes. As he walked past his obese roommate, he felt a perverse urge to reach out and touch that puffy gut. He gave it a firm poke.
“Watch out Drew, don’t wanna grow out of your third uniform.”
“Oh, fuck off, Ryan,” Drew mumbled through a mouthful of Cheetos.
Ryan smiled. That poke had given him an unexpected rush of blood. He had to admit: being the alpha male sort of turned him on. With this much motivation, he knew it would be a great workout.
Ryan rowed and rowed, the sweat flying off him. His mind raced in a self-congratulatory loop as he remembered that this hard work was the price for his incredible physique. At this point, he would technically be counted among the majority who were overweight -- but no one would think of him that way. He knew everyone considered him to have the perfect body: 6’2”, nine percent body fat, eight-pack abs, and solid bulges of muscle sticking out from his appendages every which way.
He kept himself going, thinking about how many people saw him as the toughest in the unit. The biggest in the whole unit. So much bigger than any of these guys. Constantly growing and gaining and stretching out his tight t-shirts. His mind kept revisiting all the physical challenges he’d won. The guys he’d beaten in arm wrestling. That time he squatted down and his massive bubble butt ripped the seat of his pants wide open. The thoughts rushed through his mind over and over and over as he rowed, egging him on. Even under this much exertion, he was starting to get a semi. Then Peter walked into the room.
Peter hadn’t been much of a threat until two months ago. Somehow he’d caught the workout bug and his stamina seemed to have no limit. Whenever the two were in the gym at the same time, they’d keep going at it, trying not to be the first to leave. Ryan frequently had to concede, even when Peter had been there first. Now Peter was quickly catching up to Ryan’s size, and made a point of it whenever he could. His biceps were his specialty, and had already surpassed Ryan’s. He smirked over his shoulder as he added several weights to the barbell that had just maxed Ryan out. Ryan went at it even harder than before, but his mood was dropping like one of those weights.
