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BHM The Outliers by Xyantha ~Gay, ~BHM, Explicit

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Xyantha Reborn

- Actually Very Tame!
Jul 23, 2014
Warning: This one is a Gay romance type story, and there may be explicit stuff. Turn back now if that isn't up your alley!!

A depressed young man is sent out to one of the most dangerous places in the Outliers by his family, finding acceptance in ways he never imagined.

Chapter 1

Burning brown eyes glared at him across the huge desk. “Do you understand?” the voice was clipped with anger, and rising with each word. The tone was higher and sharper than usual.

“Yes, Father,” Hadd mumbled, eyes falling to the floor. A sharp smack on the desk made him start, adrenaline surging through him. After all this time, he would have thought he would have become desensitized, but his father still scared the crap out of him. He knew he had done something wrong, but he just wasn’t sure of what – yet.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you, boy!”

No matter how old he got, he would always be ‘boy’ to his father.

Dragging his eyes to the livid red face before him, Haddwin tried desperately to remain still as the urge to fidget rose. He also sucked in his stomach as much as possible, as if that might make him a smaller target. It was always brought up, even if it wasn’t the only reason he was being reamed out. Not that the effort helped much – that bulge was too big now for a little muscle tightening to hide. His effort only succeeded in making him feel like his lungs didn’t have enough room to expand, making him a little panicky.

His father looked more and more incensed at his continued presence, his lip curling. Despite the obvious agitation Hadd’s presence inspired, his father never stopped pulling in into his office nearly every week to rip into him for one thing or another. “I was told by your instructors you skipped class. Again. And that you were found in the bakery. Again. Is this true?”

Ah, it was to be his weight again. Hadd felt his face heat even more as guilt came over him. The fresh bread and tender pastries had called to him as he passed by. He had only meant to grab one, but that nice red head had started talking, and before he knew it he was so full he could barely move – a glorious sensation that almost made life worth living…even through days like this.

“Yes, Father,” Hadd mumbled again, eyes watering as they remained fixed, unblinking, at a point on his father’s left eyelid. Anything other than complete acquiescence on his part would result in worse things than a dressing down. Calling him on his contrary instructions would only escalate his father’s rage – and the consequences.

“What did I tell you about your eating?” His father stood, bracing his hands on his desk. His massive shoulders loomed over the desk aggressively. “Haven’t your mother and I made it abundantly clear to you that your appetite is out of control, and your –” His father’s mouth twisted, as if tasting something bitter. “Size,” he managed finally, “Is unacceptable? Why do you persist in shaming us?”

“I didn’t –” the young man started, his cheeks heating. He suddenly felt compelled to speak, to justify. Although why he bothered was beyond him. Even as his traitorous lips opened answer, he flinched back. Why do you DO this to yourself? If you didn’t keep stuffing your face he wouldn’t be able to do this to you! About THIS, his sullen side responded. He would just find a new...

“For god’s sake, stop staring at me so defiantly, boy! It’s disrespectful! Put your eyes on the floor where they belong!” the older man barked.

Oblingingly dropping his eyes, Hadd felt his stomach muscles burn from the unaccustomed exercise. “I didn’t –” he started again. Shut up! He urged himself. What can you say to justify yourself? Everything he says about you is true!

A large hand smacked the desk again. “Be silent!” His father crossed the space between them. “You will not speak unless you are asked a direct question, and then you will answer only the question asked you. If you persist in avoiding your studies and eating yourself into oblivion, we will send you away where you will be forced to comply!” he gritted, driving a cruel finger deep into the tender adipose covering the middle of the cowering young man in front of him.

It was a sudden move, and caused Hadd to inadvertently release his stomach. The entire high pressure bulge whoomped forward, engulfing the hard digit. Lower down, the button on his pants threw in the towel and took off, hitting the edge of his father’s desk with a deafening thud.

His father’s look of revulsion made him stomach drop into his feet, his gorge rising. All thoughts of protestation vanished. Why couldn’t he have the tiniest bit of self-respect? Why was he such a fat cow? He was pathetic, weak, and shameful. No wonder his father yelled at him.

Hastily withdrawing the hand and wiping it on his leg – as if dirty – the older man drew himself up, lips compressing. “Haddwin, your complete lack of control, self-respect, and respect for your family had left me no choice.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks and neck heat as tears rose up. So weak.

“You will be,” His father grated, shoving him out of his office. “Your mother has something to tell you that she should have told you a long time ago.”


Not for the first time, Hadd stared down at the lapping waves below the bridge. It was a long way down, and the water swirled in dangerous spirals around the pillars that supported the bridge.

It would be a relatively quick way to die, compared to some of the other ways…


The vortex of water whirled in an inexorable circle of death. If he jumped in, he would be pulled down, spin and whirled around until he died.

No one would be able to save him – it wouldn’t be reversible, like swallowing too many pills.

It wasn’t the first time he had seriously considered this option, but today, like every day, he was still too chicken to do it. He edged back from the brink, blinking away tears. If only he could find the strength just take one step over the edge, everything would be taken care of. But he couldn’t do even that. So useless. So pathetic. Not even worth the skin on his own back.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stared up at the stone supports above his head. He had been running to hide here for years now. No one would ever consider that someone of his girth could navigate the small cliff that supported the other end of the bridge. And he was getting too fat to do is safely or comfortable. He grimaced at the feeling of him plump thighs through the fabric, scowling. His big gut got in the way when he looked for footholds, his chubby limbs shaking from the effort.

Those lapping waves had called to him as child, the constantly moving water like a beacon of possibilities – no matter what got in its way, the water continued on its own path. He couldn’t recall the exact time that those vortexes had turned from a source of comforting, relaxing fascination to a possible opportunity to end everything. Maybe it had been too gradual. Now, that water represented his life, going around and around, down and down, with no way to halt it.

The beams wavered in front of his eyes. The hatred that had been directed his way his whole life made sense now, though. It all made sense.

Why he didn’t look anything like his father.

Why his father had seemed to hate him so intensely, and yet spoil his little brother.

Why his mother looked pained every time she saw him, and treated him distantly, as if that distance would fix something.

Why his father would often switch the anger directed towards Hadd into bitter anger towards his wife.

Not his father. George.

The only question that he had was why they had waited so long to tell him? Why were they sending him away now? What had changed? What had he done that was so bad? He had promised them that he would do everything they asked, if only they would let him stay…but they had been unmoveable.

What had he done?

The man who he had considered as his father his whole life had revelled in the pain that his mother was causing. And instead of looking ashamed, his mother had looked…relieved. Especially when she was told Hadd would not be staying with them. “Just…go, Hadd. For once, don’t be selfish. This is giving your little brother a chance at having a family. A real family. You understand, don’t you?”

Hadd felt the gnawing, empty hunger start inside him again. Screw it. He was leaving anyway. Might as well enjoy himself one last time.

Once he had clambered down the rock, he shoved his hands into his pockets again, feeling his belly bulge between his forearms. He beelined for the bakery, where Olivia would be baking.

The smell of fresh bread and honey made him linger at the door. The little red head was inside, and she waved cheerily. “Come in, big guy!”

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbled, feeling his fat jiggle as he shifted. His mother’s words still rung in his ears, and he hesitated at the last moment. Maybe if he showed that he had some sort of self-control, they would let him stay?

“Aw, come on, I only have an hour before the end of my shift! No one ever comes this close to closing. Come keep me company!”

His feet brought him inside against his will, and he seated himself at a booth near her. Who would have known that his parents would have done this?

The little red head, only a few years older than him, bounced around the counter, bearing a huge glass of milk and a few pastries. “For you to nibble on while you talk,” she winked, ignoring his gestures of refusal. She was always so nice to him, although the cynical side of him acknowledged her kindness had probably resulted in at least ten pounds of lard covering him. She never seemed to mind his size though, treating him just like he was a normal person.

“How was your afternoon?” Hadd asked, forcing his hands under the table and away from the flakey pastries in front of him. Occasionally, a tiny hint of steam escaped, showing they were fresh. No. Wait. Only take one little bite.

She shrugged, cleaning dishes. “Same old, same old. And you? I heard the old man hauled you upstairs again.” Her tone was sympathetic, and she cast him a pouty look of comradery.

His cheeks felt hot, and he watched as a trickle of fresh honey slowly and lovingly clung to the outside of the pastry. It clung for several long moments before descending to the plate, spreading a golden ooze. “Yeah.” Here he was again. For the last time, now…

“What a hard ass!” She shook her curly head. “But at least you know I’m on your side, right?” She winked at him again, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“I guess.” The bit of sugar she had sprinkled on top caught the light like dozens of sand sized diamonds, glittering fantastically in the setting sun streaming through the windows.

“Buck up, honey!” She winked. “And eat up, those are nice and fresh!” Her petite little hand rubbed his shoulder, making him feel awkward. No one touched him for years now, and girls touching him made him feel even more weird.

But…she was always so nice. A bite or two couldn’t hurt that much – he was already fat, and he had already busted his pants open. And this would be last time here.

Maybe I could run away? Where? No one wanted him; he wasn’t a kid anymore.

That thought alone brought tears to his eyes, and his fingers carefully wrapped around the treat. Tender pastry burst apart under his teeth, raspberry filling squirting into his mouth. “I hope that promotion comes your way soon,” he commented quietly, eyes closing in appreciation.

She rolled her eyes. “Sally says I won’t get promoted until I stop making mistakes in the baking.”

“Mistakes? These are perfect!” He effused, chomping into another one in demonstration as the sugar raised his spirits.

She snorted, and pushed a cart out from behind the counter. “Yes, finally, but look at how many deserts I had to make to get it right! All junk! If you want any, go ahead. No charge.” A bell dinged in the back and she darted away. “Oops! Be right back, big guy!”

Her rapid movement had caused the cart to roll slowly towards him across the clean tiles. Stopping the inexorable approach with his small, chubby hand, Hadd trembled at the sight of all that food, one hand unconsciously patting his side nervously.

He needed to be better. He needed to get this appetite under control. Now it wasn’t even going to be a choice; he would be put on a diet in his training. He had heard enough horror stories (read: just stories to anyone else) to make him tremble in his boots. He loved food, it had been his only companion, his only delight, for years now.

God, he loved lemon pie. What is wrong with the top cracking a little? Nothing at all. The tangy flavour burst on his tongue.

He was out of control. He had kept skipping lessons because he was just so, SO bored. All the things he was interested in – plants, medicine, food – were not considered real studies. He couldn’t remember things written in books, and people talking at him made him zone out after a while. He was expected to sit in that tiny room, scratching out words about boring wars and politics of places he would never even see.

And now he would be in some military camp where he would freeze and sweat. Suddenly that little room sounded like heaven in comparison. His f- George, has told him that they would pound the lessons into his head so that he would never forget.

He couldn’t see what was wrong with this cookie. Ahh…too many chocolate chips.

Ooh - was that carrot cake?

Maybe if he had tried to take more physical classes he would be able to keep up with his runaway appetite. The only problem was being around all the tight bodied men, parading around half naked and glistening with sweat. It was impossible to hide his erection, and he had seen what some of them had done to other gay guys.

Hadd bit into a slab of cake timidly. If they found out...oh god. If George was mad about him being overweight, the thought of him finding out he preferred men…An inadvertent shudder tore through him. He thought he heard the a noise, but after a pause, dismissed the idea. The only sound he could hear was Olivia puttering around in the back.

Maybe he HAD found out he was gay, and this was his punishment? It would be consistent with his character, if nothing else. The idea of forcing him to be around other men and chance being beaten at every turn would appeal to him, and his logic would probably tell him that it was something that could simply be beaten out of him.

It wasn’t until his hand scraped against empty wrappers that he realized he had devoured every bit of food. He froze, his other hand in his mouth as he greedily sucked off frosting. What the hell was wrong with him?

His stomach was painfully taut, physically distended to deal with the amount of food he had ingested. It gurgled and whinged as his body struggled to begin digestion, his head swimming with the sugar rush. Horrified, Hadd stared down at himself, trying to disbelieve it into non-reality by sheer force of will. His normally round and flabby stomach was almost rock hard and bowed out heavily, and his shirt was stretched taut over its width.

He had no idea how much he had eaten, but it was a lot. Shit. Beneath his straining pants, his faithless cock twitched against his leg, tickling along the hairs as it lengthened.

Olivia scampered out. “Sorry about that! I almost forgot to take out the pudding! Sally would have killed me!” She halted, eyes widening as she took in the conspicuously cleaned cart, and the very fat young man struggling to breathe, his shirt riding up a little with every puffing breath. Her eyes were wide, and she seemed stunned, her tongue wetting her lips as she stared right at him, chest heaving.

Hadd stared right back at her in horror. He got up to run away, but the ridiculous weight of his stomach made him clumsy, and the booth suddenly seemed tight. He rose jerkily, his stomach ricocheting into the table and plopping him back down. The sudden motion and pressure made him burp long and hard.

The young woman approached cautiously, like a girl approaching a wild animal stuck in a trap. “Haddwin, it’s ok,” she comforted him, rubbing his shoulder despite his efforts to jerk it away. “Shhh…did you eat too much and give yourself a tummy ache? It’s ok! Thank you so much for helping me cleanup!” she soothed, her voice calm and soft. Her little hand was oddly gentle as it rubbed, not cold or hurting like he was used to.

He had given himself a tummy ache. His sudden motion had made parts of his insides open up, and the food had shifted heavily. A dull ache was starting, and the young man slouched a little, ashamed. “Sorry, Olivia…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it!” She winked. “A handsome growing boy like you needs as much food as you can get! You can come over any time and have as much as you want!”

That offer both terrified and excited him, as did the feel of her hand moving from his shoulder to his stomach. She patted the top of that hard orb, which was still fat enough to jiggle sluggishly under her touch, and slid sown a little. “Actually, I have to start a diet,” He mumbled, freezing, as if that would stop the fat from rippling.

“Oooh! It makes sense now! I always start off my diets with a big bang, too!” she replied sunnily, although the corners of her mouth turned down, and she removed her hand slowly.

Yeah. That was it. “Yeah,” he mumbled stupidly.

“Well, I have to close up soon, but how about you just sit and digest for a bit?”

He nodded, miserable. He was too fat to even stand up. Too fat to be happy. George’s revolted face flashed across his mind. No one would ever want a disgusting tub of lard like him. He was pathetic. Too stupid to excel in class, too fat to do normal exercises. Too weak to stop himself from glutting himself like a pig at a trough. Who would want to touch him? Tears rose up, and he closed his eyes in answer.

He allowed his own hands to rove across the expanse of his belly, lip curling in derision to discover his shirt wasn’t even meeting his waistband, and was so tight as to appear painted on. He stayed like that for a while, listening to Olivia cleaning up. Occasionally, she came by and squeezed his shoulder. Her touch comforted but also enraged. Didn’t she see how disgustingly fat he was? Now that he was stuffed, he felt a tickle of resentment to her for letting it happen. Shame rose up at the thought. It’s your fault, not hers.

Shifting slowly, he swung his legs out into the aisle, preparing to stand. He should go for a walk, right now, and burn some of the food off before he got even fatter. Putting his right hand on the table and the left on the back of the booth, he leveraged himself into an upright position with a grunt. Maybe, maybe if I show a bit more motivation and self control…maybe they would let me stay a little longer?

“Hhh-Haddwin?” His mother’s appalled whisper rang out.

Standing straighter in surprise, Hadd felt the lower part of his belly distend down and out, his shirt skittering a little higher. Sudden cool air against his skin made him shiver. “Hello Mother,” he mumbled, raising his eyes fearfully to her face.

His skin tingled around his navel, the skin feeling ad fragile and hot as his emotions. Self-hatred warred with habitual fear and respect, making him sweat and shiver by turns. Shit, shit, shit, shit…

She had a client next to her. The distaste on her face was plain, but it was the pity and revulsion that on both of their faces that made something in him snap. She looked ashamed, trying to shield the eyes of Olivia, who had approached at their arrival.

Olivia protested the bills the older woman shoved into her hands, but his mother insisted, voice breaking. “I am so sorry you had to witness that, my dear. Don’t worry, he won’t be a problem soon. ”

“No, really…” Olivia stepped towards him, her face scrunched. “Hadd, wait! What does she mean?” Her pretty red ponytail swished as she shook her head, hand outstretched.

He didn’t want her pity. Hadd kept his head down, using the sweater his mother provided to cover his lower belly as he waddled out. It was too late for him, now. There was no coming back from this, he realized, looking at his mother’s face. “Bye, Olivia…”

George snatched the sweater from him as he exited, face a thundercloud. “That’s it,” he hissed. “This was the last time.” He threw the sweater on the ground in a rage.

His little brother gathered up the sweater, peering up at him in confused way. “Hi Haddy!” he squeaked in his little piping voice. “Look, I brought Mr. Rabbit! Say hello to Haddy!”

“Hey little guy,” Hadd mumbled, tousling the sandy curls. If nothing else, his little brother shouldn’t be forced to deal with his problems. He didn’t have to know anything was wrong, not yet.

His hand was knocked away. “Don’t you touch him. You are no longer part of this family, do you understand me? You will be leaving in two days for the Outliers. Gather your things and get out. I don’t know or care where you stay until then, as long as it is out of our sight and out of our lives.”

“Th…the Outliers?” Hadd gaped, appalled. It encompassed some of the harshest areas – the most extreme environments. Only the best went there, because the chances of being critical injured were so high. It took years of training to even qualify for a rotation. “I’ll die!” was the only thing he could think of to say.

The lad was shoved towards their mother, who tried to usher him inside. Breaking free for a moment, Todd beelined for Hadd, throwing his arms around his waist and planting a big, childish kiss on his belly. “Take Mr. Rabbit,” he advised sagely. “He makes everything better when I am sad.” He shoved the little stuffy into his hand, zipping back to their mother.

Hadd hid the toy in his pocket as the older man bowed up to him, a snarl over his face. Leaning in closely, he elbowed him once in his overfull gut. “Good,” he growled.

The man may not have been in the army for years, but neither was he a slouch. That close up punch knocked all the air out of him and made his glutted gorge rise. Hadd wheezed, trying to catch his breath and not vomit at the same time.

“Maybe if I had done that more often, you wouldn’t so weak now,” he gritted out. “It makes sense why you turned out as you have. No son of mine would have been like this.” He stalked inside, jaw locked.

Hadd closed his eyes, wrapping his chubby arms around himself as he sank down on the side of the walkway for a moment to gather his wits.

It was true. Everything he said was true.


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