
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5939818.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/John_Winchester
  Character:
      John_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Weight_Gain, belly_play, Force-Feeding, Underage_Rape/Non-con, Dubious
      Consent, Parent/Child_Incest, Eating, fat!Dean, obesity, John_Winchester
      Being_an_Asshole, John_Winchester's_A+_Parenting
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-02-07 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 2570
****** All The Sweets You Can Eat ******
by konacher7258
Summary
     John comes home from a hunt and discovers what Dean really does when
     he's away. He tries to teach him a lesson but it backfires on both of
     them.
Notes
     Originally posted anonymously over at the kink meme
***** Chapter 1 *****
The sounds coming from inside should tip John off as soon as he approaches the
motel room door. He should know exactly what he's walking in on. Instead he's
fishing around for the key while congratulating himself on a successful hunt.
He had told Dean not to expect him back for at least a week. As it turned out
he got lucky on day one. Shot the thing right between the eyes, quick and neat.
It gave him plenty of time to get lucky with a chunky blonde girl on day two.
Quick and dirty. He considered staying gone a little longer to try his luck but
he knew he ought to get home. The longer John is gone the fatter Dean manages
to get by the time he returns. He never gets any smaller despite the strict
regimen John has him on. So he had decided to come home, only stopping for a
few drinks at a bar near the motel.
Maybe he had too many.
Even though he hears the slurping sounds and the single distinctive burp, he
gives it no thought as the door swings open.
But then he sees Dean, fat as ever and sprawled out on the floor. He’s wearing
nothing but underwear even though his massive stomach is enough to protect his
modesty. John realizes with a shock that Dean’s belly no longer merely sags
over his crotch. His gut is actually sitting on the floor between his outspread
thighs. And it rounds out into a mammoth ball on top of which Dean is balancing
a huge bowl. He hugs the bowl between the mounds of his chest while scooping
spoonfuls of pudding into his fat face. It must be delicious because Dean is
letting out appreciative murmurs as he swallows it down.
Something in John snaps as he stares at the look of gluttonous bliss on Dean’s
face. “Dean!” he barks. “What the hell are you doing?”
Dean’s head snaps up and his eyes lock on John’s. His chocolate-smeared mouth
gapes open but he doesn’t say anything. They both know the scene speaks for
itself. John takes in the half-empty box of donuts on the couch behind Dean and
the two-liter bottle of root beer. The floor is littered with empty takeout
containers and chip bags. It’s an impressive amount of junk for someone who is
forbidden from eating junk food. Obviously this is more than a slip-up. This is
more than just cheating on a diet. Dean planned and prepared for this event.
And with Dean’s ballooning weight John can only imagine how frequent an
occasion it is.
“I-I’m sorry,” Dean starts. He puts the bowl down and tries to heave himself
up, using the couch for support. “I promise I--”
“Sit down,” John orders. Dean immediately sinks back down onto his enormous
ass. “I don’t want to hear your promises or your excuses. This behavior is
inexcusable. You know how hard I work to help you with your weight and this is
what you do while I’m gone. It’s no wonder you’re so fat. You’re out of
control, Dean!”
“Dad,” Dean pleads, “I’ll clean up the mess.” He starts to get up again but
John pushes him back down.
“No. I’m giving up. You want to be a pig so badly then I’ll treat you like a
pig.”
“I don’t! I swear, I’m sorry!”
“Eat your pudding.”
“What?”
“I said eat your pudding,” John growls. “Are your ears full of fat or did you
forget how to follow an order?” He watches as Dean reluctantly picks up the
bowl and begins to eat the pudding. “Faster,” John says. “Don’t waste my time.”
Dean quickens his pace, ladling pudding into his mouth almost faster than he
can swallow it. In no time he’s scraping the bowl and looking nervously up at
John.
“Eat the donuts,” John says. Dean stares up at him. The glare John gives him
has Dean scrambling for the box and stuffing donuts in his mouth as fast as he
can. The last three donuts in the box disappear and Dean washes them down with
a long gulp of root beer. He caps it and then braces himself against the couch,
preparing to stand up. With one hand on the couch and the other on his sloshing
belly, Dean is completely surprised when John shoves him back down.
“Pigs belong on the floor.” John picks up the bottle and drops it in Dean’s
lap. “And I expect you to finish this.”
Dean stares at the bottle of soda. “The whole thing?”
“Pigs don’t waste food, Dean.”
As Dean sucks down the root beer, John begins to look around at the empty food
packages on the floor. He doesn't doubt Dean has food stashed all over the
place. The idea of his well-trained boy going behind his back like that is
infuriating. It’s also incredibly likely.
John stalks into the boys’ room and begins tearing things apart. He empties the
small chest of drawers, looks under both mattresses, and turns out Dean’s
duffle bag. Sure enough the bottom of the bag is packed with Twinkies and
Hostess fruit pies. John scoops them up and stomps back into the main room.
Dean is still nursing the soda bottle, looking forlorn and a little sick.
“You’re going to eat all this too,” John informs him. He dumps the snacks on
Dean’s belly, ignoring his yelp as the packages hit sensitized skin.
“I’m too full, Dad, I can’t eat anymore,” Dean whines. He’s clutching the
bottle in one hand and hugging his belly with the other. Even to John it’s
obvious how bloated his stomach is. “I’ll puke if I try to eat any more.” John
watches Dean rub his belly, concentrating on the swell of his distended
stomach. He lets out two burps in quick succession.
“I think you’d rather risk it than stop eating,” John says. He takes the bottle
from Dean’s hand and holds it up to his lips. “Open,” he orders. Dean shakes
his head with a grimace, prompting John to pinch a roll of fat at Dean’s side.
Dean lets out a yelp and John jams the bottle into his open mouth. He tips
Dean’s head back and pours a slow stream of root beer down his throat. Dean has
no choice but to swallow until the bottle is completely empty. Then John tosses
it aside and immediately picks up a Twinkie. “If you want to be an obese mound
of lard then you better eat all your snacks. That’s what these are for, right,
Dean? So you can scarf them all down and become an even bigger pig?”
“No, that’s not...” Dean begins, but John isn’t listening. He squats down
beside Dean, brandishing a Twinkie like a weapon. “I can’t eat anymore,” Dean
moans.
"We'll see," John says. He smooshes the Twinkie against Dean's closed mouth.
Then he scrapes the mash of cake and creme off of Dean's round cheeks and
forces it between his lips. “There. I knew you were still hungry."
Dean eats two more Twinkies without protest, though John can tell he's
uncomfortable by the way he rubs at his belly. After a few more Dean is
starting to pant. John tells him to lay down on his back, an order Dean is
quick to follow. He whimpers in relief as his belly sags between his thighs.
His breathing, though still strained, becomes more regular.
John watches him breathe for a minute, then decides Dean needs something to
drink. He checks the fridge for soda but all he finds is a six-pack of beer. He
grabs it and returns to Dean, pulling a can from the plastic ring.
“Open up,” John says, holding the can over Dean’s head.
Dean obeys and does his best to swallow as John pours beer into his mouth. He
sputters a little but he still gets most of it down so John keeps going.
After two cans of beer Dean is huffing and puffing again. His gut looks so
bloated and heavy that John isn't sure he could get up now if he tried.
“Please,” he pants. “Dad, I’m gonna barf. Please stop.”
“I don’t think so, Dean. You haven’t even eaten your pies yet.”
“Wh-what?” Dean tries to peer over his gut to see what John is talking about.
When John approaches with a stack of fruit pies Dean groans. “No,” he pleads.
“I can’t.”
“You wouldn’t have kept all this in your bag if you didn’t want to eat it. Now
open up.” John pries Dean’s mouth open and pushes the fruit pie in. Dean looks
up at him, grimacing from around the pie sticking out of his mouth. “Chew,”
John commands. Then Dean begins to work his jaw. As the pie disappears into his
mouth, his already fat cheeks begins to bulge out. “Swallow!” John barks. Dean
obeys, struggling to gulp it all down, then lets his mouth fall slack.
Immediately John sticks another pie in. This time, instead of an order, he
lands a smack to Dean’s belly. Dean yelps and starts to eat the pie.
John gets to his feet, standing menacingly over Dean. He watches the sluggish
way Dean chews. “Eat it, Dean, or I’m going to hit you again.”
Dean eats but he's starting to look a little green. His forehead is beading
with sweat and John notices that he looks like he’s about to cry.
Undeterred, John opens another can of beer. He holds Dean’s mouth open and
begins to pour. Dean starts to choke but regains control and finishes the can.
There are tears leaking from his eyes now and he lets out a sob when John
reaches for another pie.
“Stop crying, Dean.” Suddenly John’s hand shoots out and he slaps Dean’s gut
hard enough to bruise. “You asked to be treated like this when you made
yourself so fat.”
This time Dean’s gasp of pain turns into a moan that sounds suspiciously
sexual. John looks down at him in surprise just in time to see Dean's hips buck
up. He’s puzzled, but he still puts another fruit pie in Dean’s mouth. This
time he presses the palm of his hand into the soft flesh below Dean's belly
button. “Eat, Dean,” he commands, “or you know what I’m going to do.”
Dean starts to chew but John slaps him anyways. “Faster, pig,” he barks.
The slap earns an agonized moan from Dean but also causes his hips to jerk up
again. He’s panting and wheezing but still chewing despite the wetness on his
flushed face. As he eats, John catches him circle his hips.
Before he can think about what he's doing, John reaches out and hefts up Dean's
gut. He looks at his groin and sure enough Dean is rock hard in his grey boxer
briefs. “What the fuck, Dean,” he spits. He jerks away, letting the full weight
of Dean’s stomach smack against his thighs.
John stares at the blush blooming on Dean's cheeks. Arousal is suddenly
coursing through his own body, causing his own cock to swell.
Before he can think about what he’s doing, John tears his fly open and pulls
out his cock. He strokes it as he takes in the sight of the beached whale he’s
made of his son. Dean is struggling to sit up while staring in horror at John’s
cock. He fights against his bulk, grunting and panting, then seems to give up.
All he can do is lay immobilized by his girth while John steps out of his jeans
and underwear.
John has never been more turned on in his life and yet he has no idea what to
do with Dean. He’s certain Dean will throw up if he tries to fuck his mouth. He
doesn't think he can maneuver Dean into a position that will let him at his
ass. But then he notices the way Dean is clutching his swollen gut. It drives
John to plunge his cock right into Dean's gaping belly button.
Even with his cock surrounded by blubber, John can feel how packed Dean's
stomach is. He can’t help reaching down and grabbing at his belly, squeezing
fat as he slams into Dean. “God, Dean,” he gasps, “look at all this lard.
You've really gotten disgusting.” He shifts so that his cock drags upwards
across Dean’s belly and then begins to ride his gut. The sloshing sound Dean's
stomach makes as he ruts against it only turns him on more. “What a pig,” John
grunts out. “At least you're good for something now that you're this fat.”
Beneath him Dean is alternating between moans of pain and gasps of pleasure.
John knows bearing down on his stomach like that must be agony for his massive
son. But he also knows Dean’s cock is getting plenty of friction from his
bouncing belly.
“And you probably love it, pig.”
John reaches down to grab one of Dean's breasts. He squeezes, earning a moan
from Dean. “Gluttonous hog. Can’t get enough, can you?” He grabs Dean's belly
and begins to buck against him harder than before. Even with an enormous
stomach between them John can feel Dean meet his thrusts. Soon Dean shudders,
crying out before going slack beneath John's weight.
John stands up then, letting Dean pant while he finishes himself off with his
hand. He comes all over Dean's belly.
On his way to the shower, he realizes Dean is quietly finishing off the last
fruit pie. "Keep eating, Dean," he spits. "Pretty soon you’ll only be useful as
a pincushion."
***** Epilogue *****
The cheeseburger John shoves in his mouth immediately muffles Dean's gasp of
pleasure. His cheeks, sloppy with mayonnaise and ketchup, begin to bulge as he
eats. It’s a lot like the first time it happened except he’s even more massive
and this time John’s cock is buried in his ass. John slams into him again,
causing a wave to ripple through his enormous belly.
He’s on his back in a ratty motel bed with squeaky springs. There's a thick
stack of pillows under his ass, raising him up so that John can fuck into him.
The angle forces his belly to sag towards his chin, creating a wobbling layer
of lard that almost swallows his chest. These days Dean’s belly is so big that
it slaps against his knees with every waddling step he takes. It completely
hides the erections he gets when John makes comments about his size.
True to his word, John hasn't tried to restrict Dean's eating at all. He does
still get after him for his gluttonous habits and constant weight gain. And
then he gets on him and feeds Dean all the food he can eat.
John likes to grab handfuls of the jiggly fat at Dean’s sides as he fucks him.
He squeezes and pulls, all the while pushing in and out. He gives Dean a few
more good thrusts then pulls another burger out of the fast food bag. The
wrapper joins the small pile at the foot of the bed. Dean knows better than to
protest. John will feed him whether he likes it or not and chances are good
that his bigger belly can hold it all.
It surprises him how much he likes it but he tries not to think about it too
much. Instead he opens wide and scarfs down another burger.
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