Blackmailed - Part 4

Liam went to the gym. He hadn’t been there in over a year--not since that fateful day when he’d received demands to gain wait via email. And in that time it wasn’t hard to see why: Liam looked like he hadn’t ever set food in a gym.

Where once was a lithe and svelte figure of a man that looked like he could maneuver his body as expertly as a squirrel does through trees, Liam now moved throughout the world like an enormous whale. He didn’t walk anywhere--he waddled, his hips moving side to side as his legs swung around each other, unable to make the simple scissoring motion without colliding together.

Worse still, each exaggerated step he took sent shockwaves throughout his softened form. Not a single piece of his anatomy didn’t feel each lumbering movement: not the thick puddles of fat coating his arms, not the protruding edifices of his breasts, not the burdensome tank of his belly, nor the wobbling mass of cellulite that encompassed his ballooning butt cheeks.

High cheekbones had long since disappeared behind ruddy cheeks. Liam’s head now resembled a pear, where the bottom half was almost twice as wide as the top half. That pear-shaped theme would continue into his torso and only became reversed when it came to each limb.

Liam was as large as any man he’d ever seen. But he’d be damned if it shortened his life.

Unwilling to defy his blackmailer but also terrified of his own mortality, Liam went to the gym. And it nearly killed him.

First he tried to run. Thirty seconds on a treadmill was enough to convince him of the futility of that endeavor--even a mild jog left him gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, not to mention caused every flabby zone of his body to escape whatever cotton confine that covered it.

The elliptical machine was somewhat better in that it was easier to use his bulk to maintain the machine’s motion. He was able to perform the work for a few minutes before he stopped, again gasping for breath. Now it looked like he’d been dunked in a tank of water and each article of clothing had ridden up so high that it seemed that more of his corpulent body was exposed than covered.

Several gym-goers were staring with open disgust at Liam, causing him to make a mental note to have a part of his condo converted into a home gym.

After that, Liam’s heart wasn’t in it. He moved a few light free weights and went through some motions that might have looked like stretching on a normal sized person, but on his near-400-pound frame, it almost seemed like he was reaching for something to hold onto in order to avoid falling over.

And at times, perhaps that was closer to the truth than Liam would have liked.

Liam went to change and head home, not bothering to shower. He probably smelled like a horse, but he didn’t care--he couldn’t bear the humiliation of being seen in nothing but a towel, not after today. The few moments of bare flesh between removing his sweat-soaked shorts and t-shirt and putting on a second pair to wear home was enough for him.

“Hey, you looked good out there,” came a voice from behind him. Liam ignored it, clearly being intended for someone else, until he felt a tap on one of his excessively moistened shoulders.

He turned around and saw a man in front of him. Young, buff, conventionally attractive--all things Liam used to be. He almost didn’t know how to respond, so he defaulted to a murmured “thanks.”

“You come here often?” the man asked. It only then occurred to Liam that this person was actually hitting on him. The thought seemed so incongruous as to be absurd, and Liam laughed.

“Does it look like I do?” Liam felt an edge creep into his voice he hadn’t intended.

“I guess not,” the man said. “But don’t worry: we all gotta start somewhere.”

Liam scoffed, but despite the obvious negative attitude he was displaying the man persisted. “The name’s Noah,” he said and held out a hand. Liam took it but couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of his puffy digits enveloping Noah’s slender palm, or how he left a layer of sweat as he retracted his arm.

“Liam,” he said simply.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Noah replied, and then a beep on his side took his attention. “Sorry, I got an appointment. Maybe I’ll catch you tomorrow?” It was an invitation.

“Yeah, sure,” Liam said. Before he could get Noah’s reaction he grabbed his bag and waddled out the door.