Keep Pushing Me To Fatten Up

Just a place for kinky horny posts and fantasies about chunky fat gay guys.

[tum-lord]

Double bill this time, I recorded this from 2 different angles, wasn't sure which I thought was better overall, so I'm going to post both.

People asked how easy is it for me to move around, so I showed you how I tend to get on and off of my bed! That bed is a standard double bed for the record.

2/2 will be coming out shortly after.

[thefitwitch]

I love telling my fattening fuckboy to enjoy playing with his cock "while he still can" and knowing that deep down we both know this is a genuine threat... one day he'll wake up and the last of his pathetic little dick will be forever encased in his own gluttonous lard, swallowed by his fupa.

I love knowing the stages of this loss, that there will be so many warnings before he gets there...

First, he'll stard feeling his arms sink into his softness when he plays with himself, but he'll keep eating.

Then he'll notice he's losing length to his puffy fat pad, but his appetite will continue to grow.

Then he'll have to start pushing his belly out of the way just to access whats left of himself, but it'll just make him eat even more like an embarrassing piggy

Then he'll start losing grip, sad, struggling attempts to get off will end in so much sweaty, wheezy frustration... and an uncontrollably ravenous appetite.

But even losing access to his own cock wont be enough, he'll keep going, consuming more and more and more... and more, until there's nothing left, until not even I can play with him, until the only way he'll feel pleasure is when he fills himself to the brim with fattening junk and feels the pressure of his overfilled body pressing on his fully flab encased dick and the jiggle of even the slightest movement of his fleshy body will make him involuntarily cum...

Can you imagine him leaving an all you can eat buffet, whimpering on his way out, a pathetic stream of jizz dripping down his fupa... luckily his ridiculous belly hang hides the stain, but he still has to feel it and be reminded of what a perverted hog he is 🥵.

Call me crazy, but I just dont think Fuckboys deserve access to their cocks 🤷‍♀️ the world will be better off without it! Lol

[alternative-ffa]

You waddle around in public and people double-take. It makes me smile. I must be doing a good job encouraging your appetite.

For us, it's normal. In fact, in our world, you could be even fatter. You're really just a work in progress.

But in public? Teenagers film on their phones as they laugh. People mutter insults under their breath and glare.

My instinct is just to love on you in public the same way I do at home. Why wouldn't I?

You need to sit to catch your breath? I'll sit beside you; my hand on your belly, my perverted grin piercing your periphery.

If someone gives us a dirty look? Lucky for us, I have resting bitch face. If anger is my default expression, imagine the intensity when I'm trying to defend my beautifully fat partner.

Yes, in our fetish, there can be a significant percentage of it occurring behind closed doors. But, you can't just lose the weight you've accumulated behind those doors.

You need to live it.

---------

Most sexual desires can be hidden.

Oh you're into being tied down? Eventually the ropes will be untied.

You're into feet? Everyone has them.

You're into BDSM? Well, okay, there can be scars left behind. But, it's not something you can't hide in public.

But, if you're into gaining and gluttony and fattening. The results of your desire can't really be hidden - they don't go away.

You have to deal with coworkers, friends, family... even acquaintances... who notice how big you're getting. What do you tell them? You're just enjoying your appetite? Your metabolism dropped? Whatever excuse you use, you secretly wish you could just say, "I love how big I'm getting. I'm working towards gaining more. I'm happy."

You also have to deal with buying new clothes as you outgrow your old ones. Do you buy the same things in bigger sizes? Or do you try new styles?

---------

You have to deal with your world becoming smaller around you.

That booth at your favorite restaurant? You're going to outgrow that as well. Do you adapt, and sit at a regular table with a chair? Or do you decide not to go there anymore?

The doorways off your hallway have become tighter. Do you call a contractor and expand the doorways? Or do you decide those rooms aren't worth going into anymore?

The stores you used to buy clothes from. They no longer carry your size. Do you find another store online? Or do you decide to exist in a natural state in your home? Maybe only investing in a bathrobe?

---------

The results of our level of indulgence in a fat and gaining positive relationship can't be hidden. And the least I can do is make sure that you have everything you need.

If what we do behind closed doors can't be hidden as you go to work the next day... you should at least be spoiled when you return home.

I will adapt to what you want. I will support you. You will never feel an uncomfortable level of embarrassment if you keep it in mind that you're coming home to me.

Home is safe. And I'll be there to feed you and love you and spoil you. Other's opinions are irrelevant, as long as you're satisfied and happy.

[feeder86]

Unprofessional Development

Jimmy's jaw dropped when the new boss walked into the office. Even with his shirt, tie and dress pants on, he still recognized the big, fat chub straight away. What a night they had had together a few months ago, meeting up at the older man’s place: the unveiling of that enormous, wide, soft butt and the way he’d let Jimmy play with his giant belly and tits! Even now, the memory of it was getting Jimmy hard.

“I hear I’m joining a very dynamic team,” Stuart announced to the gathering he had assembled. “I’m sure we’re all going to get along great. I expect a professional attitude at all times, and that’s all you’ll ever get out of me,” he promised, sounding strangely like a politician. His eyes caught on Jimmy’s, although it was clear that the recognition wasn’t quite there. Oh, how massive his gut looked in that tent-like white shirt! His rear, a masterpiece of blubber! What had his profile said he’d weighed? 450lbs? It certainly wasn’t a pound less. Why the hell hadn’t Jimmy organised another sexy night with this beautiful, lardy beast?

Jimmy settled back to his desk, the mood of the office tense as no-one quite knew what to expect from the new guy strolling about and talking to them all. By Thursday, it was clear that Stuart wasn’t about to acknowledge his and Jimmy’s previous encounter and that, if anything, he’d actively been avoiding him until he couldn’t any longer.

“Alone at last!” Stuart teased playfully as he closed the door to his office, inviting Jimmy to sit and chat through his career goals, like he had done everyone else. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d remembered me,” Jimmy answered honestly.

 “I never forget a chaser,” Stuart answered with a chuckle. “And you were quite the admirer, as I recall!” he smirked, falling down heavily into his large chair behind his great desk. “The way you played with my big belly…” he swooned. “It was fucking hot!”

Jimmy felt his face getting warm. This wasn’t the professional talk he had expected upon his arrival. This was something much better, and he grinned from ear to ear to show Stuart just that.

“From what I’ve been told, you’re a bit of a coaster,” Stuart continued, sitting back without any intention of making any notes from this meeting. “You do what you’re asked and no more. No innovative ideas, no ambitions. You take home your paycheck and everyone’s happy?”

Jimmy considered this assessment of himself and shrugged. “I guess that’s about right,” he admitted, trying to hold back dirty images of him climbing onto Stuart’s lap and dropping his petit ass down onto the guy’s little, buried dick.

“Usually, I try to work guys like you hard, bring them around and get a bit more out of them,” the big boss admitted. “But, what can I say? I’m a sucker for a chaser!” he grinned. “I’ll make sure you have an easy ride with me in charge.”

“I do love a good ride!” Jimmy smiled flirtatiously back, letting his eyes drop down to Stuart's large gut and into his lap. Within two minutes, the office door was locked and Jimmy found himself bent over the desk, letting giant Stuart push his little dick all the way inside him. How fucking sexy was it to do it right here, in the office, like this?

“That was just like how I remembered it!” Stuart chuckled afterwards, tucking his shirt back in and strapping his belt up once more.

“Really?” Jimmy asked with a cheeky smirk. “That was even better for me!” he grinned, still swooning at the enormous older man he had just let finish inside him.

Stuart laughed and patted Jimmy on his slim, toned butt. “You’re such a fucking chaser!” he teased. “Drop and bounce a heavy belly on their back when they’re getting fucked and you all instantly start climaxing!” He kissed Jimmy on the mouth, lingering for some time as Jimmy let his hands explore his boss’ monstrous size. “I’ll let my new assistant know that you’re not to be hassled about the Owens account,” he stated; his final offering of the day.

“How come you made Matt your new assistant?” Jimmy asked, having been grumbling about the choice since it was announced yesterday. “He’s been bossing us all around like crazy this morning.”

Stuart only chuckled. “I have my reasons!” he nodded. “Matt is very ambitious and dedicated.”

“And don’t we all know it!” Jimmy sighed.

“He has quite the crush on you, y’know!” Stuart added playfully. “I spotted it straight away. You should see the way he looks over at your desk.”

Jimmy shook his head in disapproval. He had to admit that he’d picked up on the vibes from Matt in the past, given that they’d both started straight from college a couple of years ago. But Matt was far too serious, slim and sober for Jimmy to consider paying any sort of attention to. Jimmy was young, pretty and enjoying himself too much to date anyone so serious all the damn time.

“I’m sure you’ll feel differently in a few months’ time,” Stuart teased. “I’ve already started working my magic on him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimmy asked back, surprised by the kinky tone in his boss’ voice.

“It means, poor little Matt may be getting a bit more than he bargained for by accepting this promotion!” Then he tapped his large stomach, leaving Jimmy in no doubt as to his meaning. He’d remembered seeing it on Stuart’s profile, months ago. The guy wasn’t just into chasers and having his fat body worshipped. He was also into other stuff too: feeding and fattening guys up for his own pleasure. Now that Jimmy thought about it, that had been the reason why he hadn’t rushed back for another session with him last time. At the end of their date, Stuart had laid a hand on Jimmy’s flat stomach and offered to ‘fix it’ for him. He’d almost made it sound sexy.

“It’ll never work,” Jimmy scoffed. “He plays squash three times a week.”

Stuart merely patted Jimmy on his tight rear, nudging him out of his office. “Just sit back and watch,” he winked.

“What is up with that guy today?” complained Sally a few weeks later, flushed after a frustrating run-in with Matt about a project she was running. “Yesterday my report was fine, now I’ve got to spend the afternoon fixing loads of apparent ‘issues!’” she complained.

“At least he’s out this afternoon,” nodded Wendy in full agreement. “They’re going for lunch with a client.”

“Again?” Sally shot back. “That’s the third time this week!”

“Whilst we mere mortals must make do with a simple sandwich…” Wendy joked, lifting a meagre, foil-wrapped delight from home.

Jimmy tried to stay out of the conversation. The lack of pressure on him around here had not gone unnoticed and, Sally in particular, was never one to hold back in pointing that out. He knew that she blamed Matt’s crush on him for why he was getting such an easy ride. In reality, Sally should have been looking a little higher up the food chain.

Stuart moaned loudly as he came a couple of weeks later, buried inside Jimmy’s tiny butt. He grunted, wiping his brow as he pulled back, sighing with relief. “Thanks!” he sighed . “I really needed that.”

Jimmy smiled back, turning onto his back and snuggling into the big, fat man in his bed. “That was amazing!” he cooed, knowing that he had been far too excitable and unable to hold back. He’d climaxed long before Stuart had even got into a decent rhythm. “Just what you needed after a stressful week.”

“Stressful?” Stuart asked, chuckling. “Nah, this job isn’t stressful. I have my little assistant to do everything.”

Jimmy nodded, rubbing the large man’s belly. “I think Matt’s been doing a lot of your dirty work recently. He’s pissed off a lot of people. Everyone is always very relieved to see him going out for all these lunch meetings you have.”

Again, Stuart chuckled. “Why do you think I was in such need for a bit of fun tonight? All these dinner dates with Matt are such a turn on!”

“You’re into Matt?” Jimmy asked, more than a little surprised.

Stuart shrugged. “He’s a good looking guy, but no… I’m more into what’s happening to him. The new belly he’s getting.”

Jimmy sat up. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

Stuart raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Then you’re fucking blind!” he hooted. “The lunch meetings, admin, syrupy coffees and doughnuts are all piling on him like crazy. It’s so fucking hot to see!”

“And this is all you're doing?” Jimmy asked, surprised at the genuine joy on his boss’ face.

“Of course! I can’t resist popping out a little gut on the impressionable ones like him. In fact, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed it all on him yet! You’re a chubby chaser, right? Fresh love handles on a guy are supposed to be your area of expertise!”

“Mostly I just try to stay out of his way,” Jimmy replied, settling back down to nuzzle into the big man, confused at how all this was making him feel.

“Well, take a good look tomorrow morning,” Stuart sighed with satisfaction, rubbing his own large stomach with appreciation. “A real chaser like you will love it. Your dick is going to be as hard as a rock! Little Matty is soon to be a fatty!”

The next morning, Matt was already in Stuart’s office when Jimmy arrived. He could see them both through the open door, sipping on their morning coffees; an open box of doughnuts sitting on the table. Was Stuart pushing calories on him already? It had barely turned 9am.

Still the men were in there at 10am, more creamy coffees arriving by delivery. Was this what had been happening every morning? He checked the calendar: another lunch meeting at one. Stuart really was going for it. Then the moment finally arrived when Matt emerged. Stuart had been right to be surprised that Jimmy hadn’t noticed the gains. Now that he was looking, the shift was undeniable. Poor Matt’s pants looked as if they were pinching him uncomfortably around the hips: new, fresh love handles beginning to bloom at his sides. When he turned, a clear paunchy shape was emerging in Matt’s stomach, a surprising, new beefiness to his chest. Then there was his butt, straining against the material of his black work pants; its added heft and a definitive plushness. “Good morning, Jimmy,” the oblivious guy smiled at him, pleased to make eye contact for the first time in a while.

Caught by surprise, Jimmy managed little more than a murmur in reply. What was the right thing to do in this situation? He recognised that Matt should know what their secretly kinky boss was up to, but that would put all of them in such a difficult position. There was also that sinking feeling as Jimmy realised that Stuart had been absolutely right about one thing: for the first time in his life, Jimmy was getting aroused by Matt.

Jimmy thought he had been discreet in looking across, yet there, with his arms folded over his massive chest, was Stuart, smirking with glee at him. He raised a cheeky eyebrow and Jimmy knew, right then, that his services would be required again that evening.

Now that Jimmy had noticed Matt’s gains, he suddenly realised how much it was the subject of the ongoing office gossiping. No longer one of them, jokes were being made at the middle manager’s expense. Comments on the poor fit of his clothes were a daily occurrence, along with remarks about the extraordinary expansion of his softening rear, so altered from the slender, tight glutes they had been only a few months earlier. People who weren’t even slim themselves were joining in, taking clear enjoyment from watching a spiraling weight gain beginning to take the jumped-up, young jobsworth who had done nothing but criticise since his promotion.

Within a couple more weeks, a fullness began to appear in Matt’s cheeks. A slight double chin was building underneath his always impeccably well shaved jawline, softening his overall appearance considerably. There seemed to be a moment when Jimmy’s little paunch suddenly transformed into something more; was it the way it widened slightly? Was it the slight overhang over his belt? Jimmy couldn’t put his finger on it. All he knew was that boring, slender Matt now had an actual, undeniable gut on him.

“Stuart tells me you’ve been working hard on the Leesman account?” Matt asked, daring to venture closer to Jimmy’s desk than he did usually.

Jimmy nodded, hardly knowing where to look as the new chub was at such close proximity. It was obvious that Matt wasn’t unaware of his weight gain; his new shirts and pants, although tight, were at least a respectable size. Yet, the guy’s posture hid nothing, leaning against the wall and throwing his hips out in a way that only emphasised the tremendous swelling in his middle. He did the same when he visited Sally’s desk, his back to Jimmy now and the new, wider, underexercised glutes on show for all to see. Was it surprising that Jimmy suddenly became so fascinated by that fattened shape? Was he wrong for enjoying listening to Stuart’s horny rants about how effectively, quietly and stealthily he was fattening the younger man up? All of a sudden, work seemed to be the most erotic place on earth.

Stuart sighed with delight as Jimmy crawled out from under his desk, having worked quite diligently in his crotch for the last five minutes or so. He’d taken Stuart’s cue when he’d returned from a lunch meeting, locked the office door behind him and set to work. “Amazing, as usual!” Stuart grinned, pulling the zipper on his pants back up. “I was just getting so fucking horny seeing the way Matt overeats now, I just knew I needed some chaser’s mouth over my dick.”

“Always happy to help!” Jimmy smiled back, knowing it was his turn next. He stood next to Stuart who remained in his chair. The rotund man reached a hand to hold him close around the hips and placed his other hand on Jimmy’s pathetically hard erection. This never took long. Rather than becoming bored with these casual encounters, Jimmy felt like he had become infatuated with the man. He’d tried hard to suppress his enjoyment of watching his boss gleefully fatten up Matt, yet Stuart always managed to draw it out of him. It all felt so naughty and kinky; the eventual orgasm he had each time he admitted to Stuart that Matt’s fattening was turning him on; it was all so intense and powerful!

“The next stage is when his tits will properly come in,” Stuart stated, knowing exactly what to say to get Jimmy off quickly. “They’re already pretty soft, but you wait until you see them in a couple of months!”

Jimmy moaned. He loved imagining that. The changes. The metamorphosis.

“He hasn’t exercised in months, given how many hours he’s putting in each evening, trying to get ahead. Can you imagine how much he’d sweat trying to get his big, lazy butt around a squash court now?” Stuart asked, chuckling at the idea himself.

Fuck! There it was. Less than a minute and he’d climaxed over the floor of Stuart’s office. The big man patted him on the butt, always delighted with how simple it was to get the chaser off, then kissed him sweetly.

“You know, you could help me if you wanted..?” Stuart offered, his mind cleared of the horny fog and sharply calculating a new approach. “His double chin is coming on so rapidly now, he’s bound to look at himself in the mirror and start thinking about dieting. Now, that wouldn’t stop what’s happening to him, but it would certainly slow things down…”

Jimmy nodded. He could well believe that Stuart had the ability to throw temptation in Matt’s way, or provide quietly calorific foods that would make any diet he was on completely ineffective.

“What a fatty needs at this time is an ego boost,” Stuart continued, cupping Jimmy’s tight butt and pulling him in closer, just like he always did when he was trying to convince him to do something more adventurous with him. “You’re well aware that he has a crush on you. How great would it be for him if the cute little twink he’s fantasised about for almost three years actually started to pay him some attention?”

Jimmy hesitated to answer.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t enjoy it. The evidence is right there all over my floor,” Suart teased him. “You’d make a mighty fine feeder’s assistant.”

“He’s not really my type…” Jimmy tried to mumble, despite knowing that Matt was now far enough away from that old, skinny frame that he had previously disliked so much.

“Oh, I know he’s not fat enough for you,” Stuart laughed. “But he could be one day, with someone else nudging him in the right direction…” He brought his mouth closer to Jimmy’s and kissed him sweetly, knowing exactly the right moves to pull in order to seduce him. “You do want to see me put those tits on him, right?” he whispered, his voice laced with temptation. “Give him that nice, soft, wide butt we talked about?”

Just as Stuart had wanted, Jimmy felt completely incapable of refusing.

It hadn’t been intentional when it happened. A few days had passed when Jimmy had been trying not to stare at the beautiful, new, thick shape to Matt’s glutes. They pressed with such determination against the material of his work pants and it was obvious, judging by how forcefully his love handles were draping over the waistband, that the new pants were now far too small to contain his ever increasing blubber. It happened in an instant. Matt turned suddenly, looking straight in Jimmy’s direction and, unable to conceal his staring, Jimmy looked down, immediately embarrassed and obviously guilty.

“Do you need any help with the new software?” Matt asked, keen for any opportunity to come over and chat.

Up close, the new fat in Matt’s face was utterly adorable. His enlarged body had such presence and the strain of a tortured shirt button was only just concealed by a tie that draped down his fattened torso. By three o’clock in the afternoon, he always developed this natural, alluring musk; the scent of which was now reaching Jimmy’s nostrils.

“No, I should be okay,” Jimmy shot back, still embarrassed from being caught checking him out.

“Do you not like me or something?” Matt asked bluntly; taking advantage of the fact that the other people who worked near Jimmy had left their desks. “Every time I come over you just seem to try and get rid of me as fast as possible.”

Jimmy flushed with even greater embarrassment. “No! It’s not that at all,” he countered. “The opposite, in fact!”

From the moment the words left his mouth, Jimmy knew he had let his nerves get the better of him. What the hell had he just admitted to?

“The opposite?” Matt asked, stunned. “You mean, you’re…”

“Forget it!” Jimmy replied, wanting this whole situation to be over. “It’s not appropriate in the work place.”

Now Matt really was grinning happily. “Jimmy?” he asked confidently. “Would you like to go for a drink with me sometime?”

Stuart had been delighted the next time he saw Jimmy. Of course Matt had gone straight to HR to declare that he had asked one of the more junior staff out on a date. The guy had never met a company protocol he hadn’t liked. “Just be sure to keep complimenting his appearance,” Stuart advised him. “And if you can get him over-eating on your date, that’s even better.”

Everything had happened so quickly, Jimmy no longer felt sure what he had actually agreed to. Matt turned up on their date looking smart, in an obviously newly purchased shirt that actually concealed most of the arch of his bulbous stomach. He was clearly the romantic type, proud to be seen alongside Jimmy and listening well to everything he had to say. 

“You’re so quiet at work,” Matt smiled, scraping the last of the cream from his dessert bowl. “I never really felt like I knew all that much about you, until this evening.”

Jimmy smiled back. He hadn’t expected to enjoy Matt’s company so much, yet the way the guy had just inhaled his dessert had been more than a little distracting. Matt ate exactly in the way Stuart had described: quickly, greedily and without any apparent self-awareness. “Do you want the rest of this?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the hefty slice of cheesecake and generous portion of ice cream left on his plate. “I’ve never had much of a sweet tooth.”

Matt’s greedy eyes looked downwards and, whether the man was aware of it or not, he licked his lips hungrily. He politely tried to refuse, but within thirty seconds, Jimmy’s full plate was being lifted up and exchanged for Matt’s emptied one.

Matt made to hold Jimmy’s hand as they strolled out of the restaurant. Jimmy felt elated by the touch: those typically warm, clammy hands of a real chub. “I had a great time this evening,” Matt smiled at him just as Jimmy’s cab arrived to take him home.

“Me too,” nodded Jimmy, unable to hold back a smile. “We should do this again sometime.”

Emboldened, Matt stepped forwards and kissed him sweetly on the lips: short and tender. On the way home, Jimmy’s head was spinning. Here he was, going home alone after a first date and yet feeling as if the night couldn’t have gone any better. Was he genuinely falling for boring old Matt?

“Well done!” chirped Stuart that next Monday morning. “I hear that you were utterly adorable and sweet on your date on Saturday? Fat boy hasn’t stopped going on about it!” he quietly nodded back towards Matt, still working away in his own office, blissfully unaware that they were discussing him.

“You guys talk about stuff like that?” Jimmy asked, unsure whether he liked his love life being a topic of conversation between the higher-ups at the company..

“Of course!” Stuart laughed. “Excellent move with the dessert by the way!” he nodded proudly. “Judging by how well he ate those doughnuts this morning, relationship gains are gonna hit him hard!”

“Relationship?” Jimmy asked, completely flustered.

“Well, not yet, obviously,” Stuart agreed. “But, in time, this is all going to work to our advantage. His weight will just spiral completely out of his control.”

Jimmy didn’t return his boss’ grin, feeling a pit of guilt in his stomach. He’d genuinely liked Matt, yet Stuart had been completely right: there was nothing in the world Jimmy wanted to see more than Matt’s weight surpassing even his wildest expectations. How much of a bad person did that make him? It certainly didn’t make him a good one.

Jimmy had been coy about a second date and, although it was clear that Matt was keen to get something in his diary, Jimmy made up excuses to delay things. He’d never been in this situation before, having someone nice actually wanting to take him out and romance him for more than just sex. But, on the other hand, Jimmy loved the chubs he casually played with. Was he ready to give that up to be with someone properly?

“I always assumed you weren’t into me,” Matt declared, kissing Jimmy in the back of a gay bar they’d gone to after a second dinner out together. Several handsome guys had gazed hungrily over in Jimmy’s direction, wondering curiously what a handsome twink like him was doing with such a pot-bellied guy. 

“I didn’t used to be,” Jimmy replied honestly.

“Oh yeah?” Matt asked, grinning from ear to ear as he held the pretty boy’s slim hips in his hands. “What changed?”

Jimmy felt embarrassed again. He’d never been shy about telling chubs how much he liked their bodies before. Yet, this felt different. “I just prefer the more rugged look you’ve got going on now,” he finally offered, pinching Matt’s shoulders as if to pretend that the man had been getting stronger over the last few months, instead of irredeemably fatter.

“Seriously?” Matt asked, as keen as a puppy. “I wouldn’t really call it ‘rugged’,” he replied candidly. “It’s more that I’ve just reached that time in life when it’s super easy to pile on the pounds without even realising it.”

“Well, whatever it is…” Jimmy smiled back, moving his hands to cup Matt’s wide butt for the first time. “...It’s definitely working for you!”

Overwhelmed with delight, Matt kissed him passionately in the back of that bar; their hands finally free to roam where they liked.

“You’re a genius!” Stuart chuckled, leaning back in his chair, unbuckling his pants and pulling the material wide so that Jimmy would be able to wrap his lips over his shaft. “You wouldn’t believe how much I just watched Matt eat after you told him that you like him fat.”

“I didn’t say it like that,” Jimmy replied, getting down on his knees despite disapproving of the fact that the two men had been discussing him again.

Stuart reached out a hand and held Jimmy’s porcelaine face, admiring it with pride. “Well, whatever it was you said, it’s fucking working. He’s eating like an absolute pig!”

Jimmy knew that it must have been no exaggeration, for, in almost no time at all Stuart was unloading straight into his mouth.

“I’m starting to think that you could actually get him even bigger than me,” Stuart declared as he took Jimmy’s erection into his hand afterwards, still sitting in his chair and wrapping his other arm around Jimmy’s hip. “He’s just got this quality about him; this natural greed! He’s already at least a hundred and thirty pounds up. We could take him seriously far!”

Jimmy couldn’t deny how much the idea turned him on. In his mind, he envisioned the 300lb Matt ballooning to beyond even Stuart’s size, soon finding he was shooting violently across the floor.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Stuart chuckled afterwards, once all the mess was cleaned up and the pair looked respectable enough to return to their day. “Being a feeder is the best thing in the world.”

Jimmy didn’t need to respond. Stuart knew what he was even better than he knew himself. He’d passed some invisible threshold into a land he could never return from. Jimmy wasn’t just a simple chaser anymore.

“I was thinking…” Matt mused at the end of their fourth date. “Maybe you would like to come back to my place afterwards?”

Jimmy smiled with embarrassment and nodded. Whilst he’d enjoyed their dates, he’d never felt so attracted to someone like this in his life. Even in the short couple of months since their first date, he’d witnessed Matt packing on at least another 20lbs. More, according to Stuart’s estimates. “I’d like that,” he nodded, feeling like he needed to downplay his overwhelming arousal.

Upon reaching Matt’s place, the pair settled into a kissing marathon on the couch. With no prying eyes on him, Matt’s hands traveled more cheekily over Jimmy’s slender body and he moaned loudly with horny appreciation to have the twink at long last. When he disappeared off to the bathroom, Jimmy got up to take a look around. Although it had undoubtedly been nice when Matt moved in, the place now had all the hallmarks of a typical lazy chub’s apartment: piles of papers and unsorted items on table tops, a refrigerator full of beers and snacks, empty pizza boxes filed away next to the trash. ‘Is this all he eats?’ Jimmy asked himself, chuckling as he opened the cupboard to see all the boxes of cookies, bags of potato chips and packages of doughnuts.

“Are you ready?” Matt called, stepping out from the bathroom, completely naked.

Jimmy hadn’t expected Matt to undress himself in there, and the sight was almost overwhelming. Matt grinned with an undeserved confidence: his very average-sized dick standing to attention like it anticipated Jimmy to be filled with awe for it. In fact, it was almost laughable that Matt still expected his naked form to inspire such arousal. Didn’t he see the tits on himself? The depth of his belly button? His arching stomach and the little pouch of fat that was beginning its attack on his shaft; gradually engulfing it alongside the flabby inner thighs. It was as if every bit of junk food in Matt’s cupboards had been pumped and pasted onto his previously thin body. The way his love handles rippled as the man strutted over to him was almost too much to bear. Within moments, the fat man was undressing him hungrily, pulling Jimmy’s hands onto his wide, unconditioned rear like he had no understanding of how disgutingly out of shape he had become.

When Matt finally pulled out Jimmy’s dick, he moaned with surprise and lust. He hadn’t expected Jimmy to be so much bigger than himself, hungrily dropping to his knees to suck it. Although Jimmy sighed with pleasure, Matt’s lack of experience with sucking guys off was clear, lacking all tenderness; his mouth bouncing up and down with a speed that only highlighted how insanely horny he was himself.

Back in the bedroom, Matt’s clear fixation with Jimmy’s butt was only going to lead to one thing. Jimmy spun around, pushing his tight ass out and angling it in a way that had always assisted these chubs to get themselves in. In no time at all, Matt’s skin had become clammy, burning more calories than it had in months as it thrusted in and out. The moans and the heavy breathing was all making Jimmy so hard and he actually came from the slightest touch of Matt’s hand stimulating him at the same time. When Matt finished himself, mere seconds afterwards, he pulled himself out and lay back in the bed victoriously. He smirked as if he thoroughly expected Jimmy to tell him he was the greatest lover he had ever had: that no one had ever made him orgasm in the way Matt just had. It was all so adorable and cute; like this chub was more innocent and naive than any of the others Jimmy had enjoyed in the past. He soon snuggled up to him and fell blissfully asleep.

Matt was utterly smitten. Although Jimmy had made it clear that he wasn’t ready to be an item, the doughy man still occasionally gazed across the office at him with a sickly grin of adoration. In the month that followed, Matt’s jawline seemed to further melt away, his bulbous stomach gathering greater mass. “You wouldn’t believe what a little sex can do to a chub’s appetite!” Stuart chuckled, like their plan was working out perfectly. “I feel like I’ve created a monster!”

Jimmy quietly sucked away in the boss’ crotch, always horny to hear the changes the feeder had noticed. He had such a way of describing Matt’s ever swelling body and the gradual changes towards greater obesity.

“He knows you're a chaser,” Stuart stated next. “We went out for beers after a late meeting one night and I got him a little drunk. He says you kiss his belly all the time when you’re having sex.”

Jimmy stopped sucking and looked up anxiously. It didn’t matter that the guys were talking about him again. A sudden panic filled him. Had he fucked up? He couldn’t help but want to worship Matt’s swelling ball of fat whenever he got the chance to see it. But had he forgotten all subtlety?

“Relax!” Stuart cooed down to him. “This is what we want. He’s hardly going to rein in his appetite when he knows the twink he’s been infatuated with for years is into his new size.” He held his hand atop of Jimmy’s head, staring reassuringly into his eyes. “You’re doing well,” he smiled proudly. “You kiss that big, fat belly of his as much as you want, okay?”

Jimmy nodded, then felt his head being swiftly guided back onto Stuart’s dick as the big man leaned back further and moaned in pleasure.

It was obvious how much Matt wanted to pin Jimmy down into a relationship. He discussed wanting Jimmy to meet his family, take romantic weekends away and do all those generic things, like some basic straight couple, taking selfies together in the colours of Fall. Armed with the belief that Jimmy was a chaser, he seemed to unleash, and almost revel in, his own appetite. He had a taste for beer and a preference for any food which lacked any sort of nutritional value. Even in the short few weeks they had been sleeping together, it was obvious how much softer Matt was getting: great love handles draping over his pants. Large, puffy arms fitting awkwardly into t-shirts, and creases of back fat becoming ever more extreme.

“I do want to be with you,” Jimmy explained, lying contentedly in bed next to the easily 350lb glutton Matt had transformed into. “It’s just…”

“There’s someone else,” Matt sighed, always knowing that Jimmy had been hung up on another man.

“But, you’re the one I want,” Jimmy smiled, more sure of this now than ever before. “Things with this other guy are just… messy,” he sighed.

As he said it, Jimmy understood how deeply entangled he felt in the whole situation. Stuart was his boss and, more than that, he’d been on this crusade with Jimmy to ensure Matt had swollen to the size he was today. Stuart wasn’t to know that Jimmy’s feelings for Matt were real. In fact, Jimmy could imagine the skeptical look on the guy’s face if he ever tried to explain that to him: “Chasers like you only ever care about the blubber!” Stuart had told him over and over. “You’ll always be looking out for the next fatty who can’t tie his own shoelaces,” he chuckled, patting Jimmy on the back like it was the thing he loved about him most of all. “That’s just the way you are!”  His meaning was clear: Guys like Jimmy weren’t built for relationships. Understanding that was key. No happiness would ever be found in denying himself access to every chub who took his fancy.

With the work day over and most folks disappearing, Jimmy made his way to Stuart’s office and closed the door.

“Hello, my kinky little chaser!” the big man beamed, knowing that there was usually only one reason why Jimmy came in at this time. He cleared space on his desk presumptively and rolled his chair back, patting the extremely limited space on his knee for little Jimmy to sit himself down. “What can I do for you?”

Jimmy took a chair to the side instead, letting Stuart know immediately that this would not be like normal.

“Oh, let me guess!” Stuart huffed. “Matt’s got to you, hasn’t he?”

“I owe it to him to see if we can make it work,” Jimmy nodded. His eyes were fixated by the tremendous fat oozing under the man’s arms from his chest and back fat. It was all so damn sexy. He’d have to wait months, or even years to develop anything like that on Matt; if, indeed, he ever could.

Rolling towards him, Stuart took Jimmy’s delicate hand and pulled him up until he’d got him sitting on his knee, just as he’d first wanted. With Jimmy’s hands draped over his shoulders, he kissed him sweetly. “Well, I guess there’s no talking you out of that,” he sighed, kissing Jimmy more deeply and unbuttoning his own shirt to let the great lard out, as if to show Jimmy what he would be missing out on.

Jimmy was such a sucker for it all. This was perhaps the quality that he found most alluring about Stuart. Not only was he the boss, but he exuded authority in everything he did. He knew what he wanted and he didn’t overthink how he went about things in order to get it.

“One last time?” Stuart asked after it was clear that he had successfully wound Jimmy up into kissing him deeply back, rubbing his hands all over the giant belly of lard.

Jimmy nodded, standing up and letting the fat man unbuckle his pants for him, rolling down his underwear and spinning him around to get a look at the tight little ass he had fucked more time than he could count. With a horny slap across the cheeks, Jimmy knew to fall over the desk and spread his legs. An appreciative groan sounded from the sitting man behind him; his thick, sausage-like fingers tracing over the hole he was about to penetrate. With a miniscule bottle of lubricant always to hand, Stuart massaged it in, taking more time than usual to enjoy the view. Then, standing up, he unbuckled his own pants and attempted to insert himself. As always, Jimmy assisted, knowing that Stuart’s giant belly always prevented him from doing this smoothly. Then, once in place, the big man dropped his giant gut onto Jimmy’s small back and set to work, building up a sweat.

Despite how good this all felt, Jimmy knew this was the last time; both of them appreciating every last sensation and taking none of it for granted.

It was the light that Jimmy noticed first, as the room suddenly became much brighter. Then, he realised with horror that, not having expected any of this to occur, he hadn’t actually locked Stuart’s office door.

“Don’t come in!” the big man growled, but far too late. There in the doorway was none other than Matt himself.

Jimmy’s eyes were wide with horror. He wanted to shrink away into nothing but was pinned down by the massive weight on top of him. He moved his hands to try and hide his face, despite knowing that it was all pointless. Matt’s eyes had travelled from his sweaty, open-shirted boss, down to the little twink with his tiny butt pressed tightly into the man’s fat-swollen crotch.

“Get dressed, both of you,” Matt simply stated; his voice disguising an obvious seething beneath the surface. “I’ll see you in my office in two minutes.”

Jimmy and Stuart were silent as they got dressed again. No blame was given for the failure to lock the door. It was obvious that they had both been at fault. Jimmy followed his boss across to Matt’s office but was hastily told to wait outside whilst Matt spoke to their boss alone. Not a single raised voice was heard from within. Stuart emerged ten minutes later, unwilling to even make eye contact with Jimmy as he simply strolled back to his office and shut the door.

Now Matt gazed at Jimmy as if the spell he’d always cast over him were completely shattered. “Go home, Jimmy,” the man simply threw at him, obviously disgusted by his conduct. “And just be thankful you still have a job to come back to tomorrow.”

Jimmy didn’t try to message either of the men that night. He felt ashamed and crest-fallen. So this was why folks didn’t take their romances into the workplace. As much as he complained about it and tried to do as little as possible whilst he was there, he knew he’d be fucked without this job. What sort of a reference would he get when Matt informed HR about what he had been up to in Stuart’s office?

Stuart’s departure was announced the very next day. The big man called them into the conference room and explained that he would be wrapping things up at the end of the week, patting Matt on the back like they were still best friends and offering him his full backing to take over his role. So that had been Matt’s move? He’d kept things quiet in order to secure a promotion for himself? It hadn’t been something Jimmy would have expected from him.

Despite his best efforts, neither of the men made eye contact with him. Stuart left without ceremony that Friday and Matt began his new role the following Monday. Jimmy’s workload increased to a more expected level, and life just seemed to trudge onwards as if nothing had ever happened at all.

To say that Matt was an unpopular choice for the top position was an understatement. His manner was so uncompromising, and often dictatorial. People complained bitterly and resented the way he was going about increasing the company’s profitability. Quite unsurprisingly, they chose to make fun of his weight in a way they never had done with Stuart; calling him names behind his back and noting with amusement just how tight his shirts fitted each day. It was undeniable that the guy was putting on weight faster than ever before, with pure lard oozing into his midsection, fluffing up his arms and adding quite staggering heft to his thighs and butt.

Jimmy knew he couldn’t stay. It was all just far too difficult. He felt so guilty about how he had handled things, he didn’t even allow himself the opportunity to feel sorry for the great loss he had experienced when Matt walked away from him. His heart had broken without anyone to help him pick up the pieces.

“Jimmy! A word in my office, please!” called out Matt in his usual impatient tone. 

“It sounds like he got your letter,” smiled Wendy, knowing that Jimmy had successfully picked up a new role in a company across town.

“Good luck!” whispered Ben, watching Jimmy walking towards that fearsome office.

“Shut the door,” snapped Matt the moment Jimmy was over the threshold. He was holding the resignation letter in his hand and trotted around the desk, dropping his heavy body down into Stuart’s old chair. “So, you’re off then?”

Jimmy nodded.

“Stuart gave you a reference, did he?”

Again, Jimmy nodded. He knew he was in dangerous territory. One call from Matt and this new company would withdraw that job offer in a heartbeat.

“Good,” Matt nodded. “It’s the least he could have done after messing you around like that.”

Jimmy frowned. He knew he should be pleased that Matt didn’t automatically blame everything on him, but, in reality, it had been just as much his fault as Stuart’s.

“I think this new job will be good for you,” Matt seemed to consider. “It’s about time you spread your wings and explore other options.”

Jimmy sighed. “I was very happy working here,” he answered meekly.

“Well, like you said… things got messy, didn’t they?” Matt scolded him.

Again, Jimmy nodded. He’d deserved that. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?” he asked, knowing that there would never be another opportunity.

Matt sighed. “I always knew we weren’t exclusive,” he conceded. “But it’s hard to shake the feeling that you and Stuart were both lying and playing games behind my back.”

Jimmy couldn’t deny it. That had been almost exactly what had been happening.

“But, if you’re not working here anymore, that will undoubtedly make things easier,” Matt stated.

“Easier?” Jimmy asked.

Again, Matt sighed. “I’ve discovered that I’m something of a stress-eater,” he explained, flapping his tie over his shoulder and rubbing the great expanse of his rotund gut. The buttons looked tortured and the fat in his chest had never looked so expansive. “I’ve gained thirty-five pounds in just under two and a half months.”

“I see,” Jimmy replied solemnly, trying to conceal his great preference towards the extra bulk. “And how do you feel about that?”

Matt shrugged. “It is what it is,” he answered. “I eat too much and this is the consequence. I didn’t mind it when I had you to enjoy it all,” he smirked, grabbing a wedge of his plush belly fat and jiggling.

“You know, I’d never fuck up again like that,” Jimmy stated with absolute determination to have one final chance with Matt. Perhaps, now he wasn’t going to be working here every day, things could be different. “You say the word and it’s you and me. Exclusive. Forever.”

Matt’s face dropped and he raised an eyebrow, sitting up in a much more professional manner. “This isn’t the place to discuss that,” he scolded Jimmy. Then, with a small grin on his fat-bloated face, he added. “But I’d be quite happy to talk about it over dinner tonight instead.”

Jimmy only saw his old work colleagues at the annual Christmas parties these days. Despite the company’s success under Matt’s leadership, the man never chose to linger for more than an hour or so, knowing that the party would only truly get started once he was out of their way. He looked so handsome with his wide, bulbous rear and thick love handles surpassing the width of even his gigantic back, filled with fat from his shoulder blades and even extending into his enormous, puffy arms. He’d made a beeline for the buffet table, balancing the comically small plate up against the large shelf of his stomach as he stood chatting with some of the newer, more senior hires.

Despite the nostalgic vibes Jimmy felt at seeing all his old friends, he knew that things were never going to be the same. He’d married the boss and become an outsider since he’d left the company. An hour was pretty much all he could stand of the awkward chit chat, and he was quite happy to have his husband’s large, sweaty palm take his and lead him away from the party. 

“There we are,” Matt sighed in relief once they were back in the car. “I’ve shown my face. Now, let’s get some pizza and head home.”

“Pizza!” Jimmy laughed. “I’ve just watched you systematically destroying that buffet for the last hour.”

“So?” Matt chuckled back. “The company paid for that buffet. Plus, I always get pizza on a Friday night. It’s part of the reason why you love me so much,” he joked, tapping his enormous gut that burst its way forwards towards the steering wheel.

“One of many reasons,” Jimmy nodded, kissing his five hundred pound lover on the cheek. Having joined Matt’s family, it no longer surprised him how large the man had grown: the cousins, the aunts, the uncles, they were all the same: greedy and rapid expanders as soon as their metabolisms crashed in their early twenties.Although Stuart had always enjoyed feeling responsible for making Matt grow in those early days, Jimmy started to understand that perhaps the man was merely enabling a process that was already naturally underway.

“Are you sure you’re okay with leaving this early?” Matt checked one final time.

“Of course not,” Jimmy smiled, placing his hand on the only part of Matt’s thigh that wasn’t engulfed by resting stomach fat. Even after all these years, there was nowhere he’d rather be than at this man’s side. His perfect match.

“Let’s go home.”

[toptierteaser]

Fatboy Struggling to Run

(A repost from the old account)

Well, what's the problem? You said you could run, Fatty! You said it would be no problem!

Are you finding that it’s becoming difficult, fatass? Are you noticing your legs are chafing? Huh, fatboy? Is that big gut of yours wobbling too much? Are those juicy tits bouncing?

Well, what do you expect, fatboy? You’ve clearly been feeding yourself nonstop! I can see it in your fat, chubby face! I’ve watched you, eating and stuffing, more and more! Your once-fit, athletic body now covered in a layer of doughy pudge and lard! Your old running uniform looks like it’s been painted on your skin, fatboy! Look at what a whale you’ve become, blubber butt! Yeah, that jiggles too, lardass! You can’t even take a step without all that junk in your trunk jiggling and quivering like crazy! I can hear how out of breath you are fatboy! What, are you embarrassed? Am I being too loud? You’re worried all the other hot, fit guys are gonna hear? Well, let them! Let them know what a fatass you are! After all they can see it! It’s plain as day! Look at your gut! Watch when I poke it! Haha! It jiggles! And you can’t even cover it up with your shirt anymore, fatboy! It just rests above your belly button now! Shows off those juicy love handles!

I can’t deny, I’ve really been enjoying watching you struggle! You used to be the star athlete! Showing off your skills to the world! Now what do you have to show…your fat backside? Your overblown fat deposits that poke out in every which way! You are one blubbery fuck! You’ve traded in all your medals for awards in overeating! Now the only racing you do is seeing how fast you can cram a box of cookies down your fat face, into your blubbery stomach!

Still…I want you to run for me fatboy! I wanna see how pathetic you look, making all that pudge move, haha! I watched you earlier, struggling to tie your own shoes! I could see your love handles, all exposed and creased! I heard you huffing, your big stomach in the way! Saw you sweating! You are such a pathetic loser now, dude! Just fat as fuck and only growing fatter! Let me let you in on a little secret, fatboy! I have a little wager placed on your chubby ass…I’ve bet that you won’t last a minute out on the trail! Which is optimistic! Some of the others bet you won’t last thirty seconds! Isn’t that embarrassing, lardass! You should still give it your best go! It’s going to be so funny watching you try to waddle after all the other fit guys! Watching those tight shorts get wedged between those juicy cheeks! Watching you blush and huff, those tits bouncing around uncontrollably, those thighs burning as your fat rubs!

Don’t worry! When it’s all over, I’ll make sure you have a whole gallon of ice cream to binge on the ride home! You’ll get lots of tummy rubs, fatboy! Lots of pokes! We’ll remind you what a pathetic fat fuck you are and you can sit and stuff your face as you eat your feelings!

Well, better get warmed up, fatboy! Start stretching all that chub! The race is about to begin!

[feeder86]

Pet Piggy

As if the appearance of them wasn't heartstopping enough, the sight of the two sexy guys kissing was enough to give every guy at the bar a boner. Alex had never seen two men who were as naturally handsome, nor impeccably chiselled through clear gym dedication. Yet, there they both were, sharing a kiss on the dancefloor. The way their statuesque bodies moved and grinded against each other, the perfect fit of their clothes; Alex was in heaven just standing at the sidelines, sipping his drink.

“What I wouldn’t do to get in the middle of that!” Alex smirked to his new friend as he gestured towards the two sexy men.

Alex’s friend looked across and then rolled his eyes. “You mean Adam and Ben?” he chuckled. “Yeah, we’ve all had our fantasies about those two,” he nodded. “They’ve been together for about five years now. They don’t come here all that often, but when they do, the view is always pretty great!”

Alex sighed in longing as he gazed across. Moving to a new city for his job had been unexpectedly difficult, and he had consoled himself with the idea that he would hopefully find some sexy sugar daddy to love and take care of him. However, judging by the gay scene so far, there wasn’t much to write home about. No one had come up to him and there had been no more than a few fleeting glances in his direction. He knew that it was mostly his own fault. He’d thoroughly made the most of his twink physique back in college, but another five years down the line and he’d found the dad-bod had slowly been creeping up on him. He could feel his small love handles pressing against his overly tight shirt and could sense from the awkward fit of his pants that his butt was now a little too full and soft for most of the guys in here. 

So, why not go on a diet? It was something Alex had considered in the past. He’d even bought a gym subscription last January. Yet, here he was in June at least six pounds heavier still. The truth for Alex was a lot more complicated. When he gazed at his softening form in the mirror, he didn’t hate himself like most of the mainstream media wanted him to. In fact, he found something incredibly erotic about it all: the act of filling out, the plushness to his butt, the obviously underexercised appearance. He looked like a man who had settled into a content relationship of several years, happy to let himself go a little. He could even admit that he had rubbed his small paunch with appreciation more than a few times when he’d masturbated alone in his bed each night.

“They’re not quite as wholesome as they look, y’know?” Alex’s friend continued, pulling him out of his thoughts and back to observing the two incredibly handsome guys on the dancefloor. “Up until a few months ago, they used to constantly hang around with this fat guy.”

Alex looked across at his new friend wondering why such a comment was relevant. After all, there were plenty of overweight folks in this city.

“A few of us had seen both Adam and Ben kissing him… this fat guy!” he pressed on, as if delivering the most shocking news of the century.

“What? Like some sort of threesome?” Alex asked, suddenly feeling a lot more experienced than his friend for having indulged in quite a few threeways himself, back in his college days.

“No… this was way weirder,” the man pressed on. “It wasn’t like he was their equal. He was more like Adam and Ben’s pet. They both fussed over him like crazy.” He pondered how best to express himself. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I guess you had to be there and see it. But there was a weird dynamic between them.”

“They didn’t mind that he was chubby?” Alex tried to clarify, feeling a sudden hopeful spark in himself that, maybe, in some strange universe, he could be in with a shot himself.

“Apparantely not,” the friend chuckled. “The guy pretty much doubled in size since we all first saw him,” eyes wide with the retelling of it all. “Perhaps he got too fat for them both, I don’t know. But it ended fairly abruptly and now he lives across town and doesn’t have anything to do with them.”

Alex gazed across at the two men and was surprised when one of them glanced in his direction, giving a small smile. He could feel the excited butterflies flutter and fizz in his stomach with just that single look. Had Adam and Ben just become the ultimate fantasy?

It was a few weeks after that when Alex was standing at the edge of the dancefloor yet again. No longer fresh meat, he’d found that even the curious looks in his direction had ended. He’d lived in this city for over three months and hadn’t scored with more than a handful of average-looking guys he’d met on dating apps. More than that, he’d felt the creeping mass of weight gain sticking to his body once more. He’d eaten poorly for weeks, too lazy to cook for himself and captivated by the cheap pricing of the highly competitive take-out food market in this city. For the first time ever, he’d begun to carry a slight double chin that, despite shaving daily, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d seen a picture of himself from a friend’s wedding the weekend before. He remembered how tight and strong his core had been back in college, now soft and puffy, like his chest, gathering an ever thickening layer of blubber. It was partly why he felt so fed up with being single. He needed someone to steer him in the right direction, or at least warn him when his clothes were becoming ridiculously and embarrassingly sized on him. He’d had one beer that evening and already he could feel a button straining on his shirt. What a catch he must have looked!

Three drinks in and queuing up at the bar for a fourth, Alex felt ready to head home. There was no point in being here and the fit of his clothes was making him feel more than a little self conscious. He sighed and turned, ready to head out the door when he noticed that, standing directly behind him, had been those two incredibly handsome, muscular guys: Ben and Adam. How long had they been there? Alex cringed, realising that they must have seen him from the worst possible angle, with his wide, underexercised butt squeezed into pants that used to fit like a dream.

Feeling his face flushing and unable to look away once one of them had locked eyes with him, Alex found himself mumbling an embarrassing “Hi” in their direction.

“Hey,” smiled back the one with perfect stubble, gazing at him up and down. “I like your shirt,” he smiled, reaching out and stroking Alex’s chest as if appreciating the softness of the material.

“Oh…” Alex whimpered back, unsure what to do. He hadn’t really expected an acknowledgement, let alone an undeserved compliment thrown in his direction. “It’s super old,” he replied dismissively, looking down at it himself, noting once more the strain of the buttons. “And a little too tight,” he stated, wanting the handsome men to know that he wasn’t completely stupid and unaware of how ridiculous he looked, squeezed into it like this.

“No, it’s a lovely fit,” smiled the other man, reaching out himself and stroking the material of the shirt at Alex’s side, where it clung unflattering to his love handles, pinched by the tight waistband of his pants. “We’ve been admiring it.”

“And you,” nodded the other man with an undeniable flirtation in his voice.

Alex stood, frozen to the spot. Was this some joke? Was he being made fun of? Surely this couldn’t actually be happening for real?

“So, are you going to let us buy you a drink, or what?” smiled the other man, reaching out to rest his hand on Alex’s other side, so that they both stood there, rubbing against his love handles and gazing excitedly into his eyes.

Without any real concept of what was happening, Alex allowed another beer to be bought for him. He went to sit with the two huge hunks, bookending him on either side of a small booth in an incredibly intimate, close fashion. Alex could feel their muscular thighs pressing against his own, smell their alluring cologne and became lost in his own swooning as he listened to their deep, masculine voices asking him question after question. Within twenty minutes, Alex felt like he had given them his entire life story. Perhaps it was the fact that they were so damn handsome, the men just seemed somehow more trustworthy. Then again, it could also have been his nerves; rambling on and on and on. They knew it all: his complex family set-up, his time in college, his career and current frustration at being single.

“A handsome boy like you should have no problem finding a boyfriend,” replied Adam after nodding to the bartender to send more drinks. It was the first time Alex had ever seen anyone getting table service in this place.

“Thanks,” Alex mumbled back. “But I’ve not really been looking after myself so well these last couple of years.” He pulled out his cell phone and flashed the picture he kept of him and his social group from college on his screen background. “That was me five years ago,” he sighed, as if it was all the evidence he needed to explain why he felt so down about himself.

“What? That skinny little thing?” Ben scoffed. “Nah, you look one thousand percent better now,” he grinned, rubbing Alex’s back as if he was at last building up to make a move on him.

The picture of his former physique had also seemed to do something to Adam as well, with the guy’s hand slipping down onto Alex’s knee and rubbing. “Why don’t you let us take you home and show you how fucking sexy you are?”

Alex had noted the jealous looks of the guys in the bar as he was led out by Adam and Ben. The whole time they had walked to get a cab, one of the men had had a hand on him, resting on his hip or over his shoulders. All three had squeezed into the back of the car, with Alex pressed up against them both, much like he had been in the bar. Hands slyly drifted onto his thighs whilst Adam and Ben talked animatedly to the driver about sports, completely unaware of the gentle fondling that was quietly going on in his back seat at the same time.

The guys’ apartment was immaculate, much like the men themselves. Large and spacious, overlooking the river, it was obvious that they were both well paid in their jobs. Both of them no older than their late twenties, yet living the life of men who were comfortably off after many decades of toil and hard work.

Could couches be sexy? The one in this place sure seemed so. Alex was guided to sit in the middle of it, whilst both men simultaneously removed their shirts; those stunning chests coming on show, not a single flaw on either of them. Sitting down beside him, Ben was the one to kiss him first. Then Adam took his turn whilst Ben set to work unbuttoning Alex’s shirt. In no time at all, he felt the material being pulled back over his shoulders, his chubby torso on show; bloated, puffy; belly jutting out over his belt.

Alex could hardly believe the size of the bulges in the men’s pants. Full, hard and thick iron rods threatened to burst through the material, with both men moaning in horny appreciation as Alex lowered his hand to rub them over the top of their clothes. As Ben undid his belt and unleashed his erection, Alex felt his lips magnetically drawn to it. Never in his life had he had such a beautiful dick in his mouth. Above him, Adam and Ben were kissing. Adam had dropped his pants, then Alex felt his head being guided towards that erection instead; no less impressive or stunningly sized.

As things progressed into the bedroom, Alex was surprised at how he was being handled. The intermittent sex he’d had with guys in recent times had been direct and perfunctory, with only the end goal in mind. Yet Adam and Ben’s hands lingered on the parts of Alex’s body that he had enjoyed touching himself: his chubby belly, his soft chest and fleshy thighs. At one point, Adam had been bouncing Alex’s glutes, watching Ben’s face as if he knew such a sight was going to make him irredeemably horny. Indeed, the whole thing seemed so much different to any threesome Alex had ever been in. In many ways he felt like the center of attention, yet there were so many horny glances between the couple themselves; a silent, kinky language as they got each other off to the way they were both touching and enjoying the chubby flesh of Alex’s body.

Satisfaction like this was rare in life. Alex lay in bed, letting the two men clean him up after the three of them had climaxed and made such a mess all over his body. He didn’t realise then that he would be staying the entire night, nor that the boys would be making him orgasm again, and again, and again.

It turned out that Adam and Ben worked not too far away from him in the financial district of the city. For the next week, one or the other of them would message Alex and meet up during his lunch break, treating him to something to eat and surprising him with an additional tasty treat to take back to the office. The guys had never looked hotter than they did in their smart office suits and fitted shirts. Alex could see folks turning to stare longingly as they walked past. Adam and Ben just seemed to be winners in life, no matter how you judged them: their careers, their lifestyles, their looks and enviable relationship.

“Is this from the bakery you were talking about?” Alex asked, holding a full tray of pastries Ben had just presented him with. The smell made him moan in pleasure.

“I may have asked my secretary to pop out for them this morning,” Ben smiled. “I told her I had a lunchtime meeting with a client I really needed to impress…”

“You and Adam don’t need to keep buying me lunch and presents,” Alex chuckled, unable to stop himself pulling one of the treats out and biting into it.

“I disagree,” Ben replied, flirtatiously rubbing the top of Alex’s arm as he ate.”I think a little bit of spoiling and pampering is exactly what you need! And, besides, I was hoping some sweet talking might help persuade you to head over to our place again this weekend?”

Alex swallowed hard. He’d been fantasising all week about being invited back to the boys’place. “Sure,” he replied, trying to be as casual as possible about it. He listened carefully as Ben told him their plans. They’d pick him up from his place around six on Saturday. Then they’d go out for food and drinks. There was this cute little dessert place that Adam had said he’d wanted to take Alex. Then they’d all head back to their apartment and, well... Ben was far too polite to say all the naughty things they’d get up to then!

“That sounds amazing!” Alex swooned, hardly comprehending that he’d been eating the pastries the entire time Ben had been talking. “You’d better take these off me!” he declared, trying to pass the half-empty box back. “They’re so good. Honestly, I’ll just end up eating the entire box of them.”

Ben smiled warmly at him. “Then eat them all,” he answered kindly, stroking Alex’s back affectionately. “When was the last time you just let yourself enjoy the moment like this? Without worrying about eating too much or being judged?”

Alex felt the box being pushed gently back towards him. There was so much truth in what Ben was saying. Ever since he’d started putting on weight after college, his anxiety about overeating and thoughts of people’s judgements about his body had driven him crazy. Yet, look at him now! He had one of the sexiest guys on the planet telling him it was okay to just be real with himself and have what he wanted to have.

As Alex took another pastry, he smiled happily. This whole situation was absolute heaven. He felt Ben’s sly hand sliding onto his butt, giving it a firm, appreciative pat. “I hope you know that Adam and I will never try and put you on a diet, Alex,” he whispered sweetly. “You never need to try and hold back your appetite for us.”

Alex nodded. This guy was so sweet, yet something about the way he wanted him to let go of all his old hang ups was also incredibly arousing as well. They soon parted, heading back to their respective offices. Yet, by the time Alex made it back to his desk, that entire box he had been given was indeed completely annihilated. He liked his sugary lips and smiled, not feeling ashamed for the first time in years.

There was one question that remained with Alex, despite all the many times he had been invited over to Adam and Ben’s place. Just who had that guy been that they had hung around with before him? There was no doubt in his mind that he had taken over whatever kinky role their previous third had been in their relationship. But how exactly? What was it that this role provided them both? It all seemed so one-sided. Alex was so frequently wined and dined, his wardrobe upgraded through constant gifting and shopping trips. He’d experienced so much: weekend getaways in idyllic locations, concerts and glitzy charity events. But what was it that made him so irresistible to two such successful men?

“I told you his butt would look great in these!” Adam remarked to Ben as Alex arrived in the new chinos he’d been given last weekend.

Despite being fresh out of the shower, Ben came over to kiss him straight after Adam’s turn, rubbing Alex’s bulbous backside with a cheeky smirk of appreciation. “You definitely do seem to have a knack for dressing him,” the hunk nodded at Adam.

Alex smiled happily, diverting to get a better look at his butt in the mirror himself. He’d never been particularly stylish like the boys, and he couldn’t say that he understood why Ben and Adam thought he looked so good today. To his untrained eyes, the chinos simply made his butt look even larger and unconditioned than it already was. He’d piled on so much weight since he’d been hanging out with them, becoming ever wider around his hips and waistline.

“We ordered some pizza in for you before we leave,” Ben explained, dressed now in his smart pants and decorating his beautiful body with an immaculately pressed shirt. “It’s going to be a late one.”

At that very moment, the buzzer sounded and Adam disappeared to collect the two large boxes of pizza; massaging Alex’s shoulders as he finally sat him down at the breakfast bar to start eating them. Alex couldn’t really remember when he’d become so used to eating such vast quantities. The boys had done this to him so many times, taking him out places where he wouldn’t be able to eat for several hours at a time and insisting that he ate heartily in advance to avoid hunger later.

“Oh, no!” Ben proclaimed, looking at his cell phone. “The concert’s been cancelled!”

“What?” Adam shot back in alarm. “Are you joking?” he asked, racing over to check the email his lover had just received. “Larengitis? Are they serious!”

Stuffed to the brim, Alex waddled his increasingly flabby body over to the couch. He’d started carrying so much fat on his chest in recent weeks and he could feel the ring of lard under his chin as he lay back, actually quite relieved that he didn’t need to go out straight away. He rubbed his aching stomach and tried to breathe a little easier, burping up the gas from the sodas he’d been provided with for his meal.

“Look at him!” Ben cooed after he and Adam had finished fussing about the derailed plans. “He always looks so cute after a big pizza!”

Adam smiled and walked over to drop himself down on the couch next to Alex. He kissed the bloated boy, then slipped his hand onto his stomach instead, rubbing sensuously on the area below Alex’s belly button. It was a sensation Alex had enjoyed ever since he’d first started putting on weight and he never held back from moaning in appreciation for it. 

Ben smiled at the sight, then quickly tidied up the kitchen space. He looked into the pizza boxes Alex had been eating from and tutted when he saw so many crusts had been left. “Oh dear!” he joked, picking up the box and bringing it over to the coffee table. “I hope you’re not going to waste all this?” He too dropped himself down beside Alex and, as Adam rubbed the big, soft lower belly, Ben began holding the crusts to Alex’s lips. “You’re going to need these extra carbs tonight.”

His hands resting on the two men’s muscular thighs, Alex felt his erection growing by the second as he nibbled on the cold crusts Ben was pushing into his mouth. He didn’t know how these scenarios managed to get him so aroused, but as the months had gone on, he’d come to notice a strange connection between having a full tummy and a hard-on that just wouldn’t quit.

“We should get the ice cream out for him if we’re not heading out just yet,” Adam reminded his lover.

“I already did,” Ben nodded, watching keenly as Alex obediently crunched at his fourth left over crust. “It’s warming up in the sink.”

Adam opened up Alex’s pants, lowered his zipper and fished out the guy’s comparatively average-looking dick. Up and down his big hands began stroking it as the pair of them gazed lovingly into his eyes, watching him eat. After a little time, the pizza crusts were swapped for large spoonfuls of ice cream - a new and surprisingly tasty variety.

“We’ll have to buy some more of this,” Adam noted to Ben, pleased with how clearly Alex was visually enjoying it. “This is the same stuff Pete used to like too, yeah?”

It was a name Alex had heard the boys reference to each other a couple of times before, coming to realise that this was the fat guy the boys had previously fussed over in the same manner that they now did with him. “Tell me about Pete,” he suggested between spoonfuls of ice cream.

The two men looked at each other, clearly wondering how best to broach the subject. “Pete was our first attempt at finding someone really special, like you,” Adam replied warmly.

“Did you do stuff like this with him?” Alex asked, enjoying the sensual way his dick was being played with and the ice cream delivered straight to his mouth.

“Yeah, we did,” Adam smiled. “Ben and I are of the same opinion that if we’re going to keep an extra person in our relationship, he should be very well cared for.”

“You both look after me so well,” Alex nodded, his voice becoming husky after several minutes of Adam’s expert stroking.

“We certainly like to think so,” Adam grinned, looking over at Ben who smiled back in that same conspiratorial manner.

“It gives us a lot of pleasure,” Ben nodded in agreement.

Alex enjoyed the feeling of submission and pampering. He knew how spoiled and lucky he was. He wanted to revel in it, motioning to the two men to remove their shirts for him to enjoy. “Are you going to keep looking after me like this?” he asked between kisses with them both. “Like your little pet?”

The two men laughed and looked at each other. “That’s certainly the plan,” Ben smiled, scraping the last bits of ice cream out of the tub and dropping it into Alex’s open mouth. “Adam and I have spend a lot of time discussing it. And now you’re definitely shaping up like we wanted,” he teased, stroking Alex’s double chin before delivering a deep sensual kiss.

“But where did it go wrong with Pete?” Alex asked, knowing it might spoil the mood for a moment but unsure when else he would have such a golden opportunity to ask.

“He just got a little too greedy,” Adam replied swiftly, clearly trying to shut this aspect of the conversation down quickly.

Alex felt a little deflated. So his friends at the bar had been right when they’d speculated that Adam and Ben had given up on their previous lover because he had become too big? All the guys’ talk of enjoying spoiling him was just that. Eventually he could become too heavy for them to enjoy anymore. Then it would be back to the old diets and calorie counting, hating his body all over again.

“What Adam means is…” Ben interjected, seeming to sense the rapid thoughts flowing through Alex’s brain. “Pete wasn’t content enough in his situation. Boys like you, who have been so well looked after, develop a body type that is very appealing to guys like Adam and I,” he smiled, rubbing the great mass that was Alex’s bloated middle. “Pete realised that he was quite a catch to a certain type of man and he… Well, he did some exploring behind our backs.”

Alex nodded in understanding. “I’d never do that to you guys,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I love you both so much!”

The two men above him looked at Alex and grinned proudly. “And we love you too,” Adam nodded, gazing now at the 250lb flabby boy who had declared himself so absolutely.

“And we’re going to keep on showing you how much we love you,” Ben added, actually grabbing a thick wedge of Alex’s belly fat as he whispered into the guy’s ear. “As long as it takes.”

As Alex’s weight became more and more extreme, he noticed the way certain folks had come to look at him. He had always been somewhat invisible when standing next to Adam and Ben, yet, now, whenever one of the handsome men had an affectionate hand on his thigh, or gently stroked his back, it suddenly attracted looks of confusion and, in some cases, quiet disgust. However, having both Adam and Ben lifting him up and telling him over and over again how wonderful he was, all acted like a shield against everything else: the sly comments about his weight at work, the gradual loss of the few gay friends he’d made in this city before he’d started hanging out with the boys, the uncomfortable sweatiness during the long summer heatwave.

“Look at the size of you!” complained Alex’s aunt as she gazed upon him during her trip to the city. “Does your mother know how badly you’re looking after yourself?” she scolded.

Alex tutted in annoyance. He couldn’t care less what his mother would think. He hadn’t spoken to her in three years and wasn’t about to seek her approval for gaining a few pounds.

“How have you put on so much weight since I saw you last November?” she demanded.

“I’ve just been enjoying my food,” Alex shrugged. “I stopped caring about what people think.” It was as honest as he could be. Food had become his greatest hobby. With Adam and Ben fussing over him and supporting him so much, the only major drain on his income was his rent. So what if he suddenly got hungry for take-out at ten o’clock at night? Why deny himself? The slick bakery by his office was expensive but good. Why try to limit his purchases there when he had all the cash he needed sitting in his bank account. He’d become like Adam and Ben, casual about pulling out his debit card to treat himself.

“Your mother is going to be furious when I tell her!” Alex’s prickly aunt continued, still staring with disbelief at the enormous stomach and wide hips on her once slender nephew.

“Good!” Alex laughed, deciding that this would be the last time he made an effort to see this horrible woman who hadn’t had a single nice word to say to him. He grabbed at a large wedge of belly fat and jiggled it. “There’ll be plenty more where this came from!” he declared defiantly. He’d stop by the doughnut place on the way home and not hold back. He’d tell Adam and Ben how tight his work pants felt today and they’d have some new ones bought and ready for him by Monday morning. He had a perfect life, and he didn’t need to justify it to anyone.

Adam held his hands over Alex’s eyes whilst Ben opened the door to their newly renovated bathroom. Alex knew it would be impeccable. The boys had such excellent taste. But as Adam’s hands lifted up, the beauty of it startled even him. The shower was so large and luxurious.

“We were thinking about you the entire time we were designing it,” Ben smiled, strapping his strong arm over Alex’s shoulders. “Nice wide spaces and a shower that could easily accommodate us all at the same time.”

Alex nodded. The previous shower had definitely become a bit of a squeeze for him as he’d tried to push his wider physique out through the narrow gap of the open doors. Given how much weight he had gained in the last year, it was just a matter of time before it became too challenging. “Now I won’t need to worry about having too much to eat when we go out later!” he joked, knowing exactly why all this work had been done.

Adam glanced excitedly at Ben. There was always such a kinky joy between them both whenever Alex said anything that showed his acceptance towards the inevitability of further weight gain.

“Absolutely!” Adam nodded, reaching a hand down to rub the large expanse of Alex’s butt. “You enjoy yourself!”

“We were going to ask you at dinner tonight,” Ben began, looking at Adam for his consent to proceed. “But we were thinking… maybe it’s time you moved in here with us?”

“It would certainly make a lot of sense for you,” Adam jumped in, coming in closer and sliding his hand along the underside of Alex’s hefty stomach. “You wouldn’t have to pay for that expensive place downtown and we could all see each other a lot more. You could have your own room and space to do what you wanted.”

“And we could play with you every single day!” Ben added with a kinky touch, slapping his hand onto Alex’s large underexercised rear with pride.

Alex only pretended to consider the idea as the boys set to work trying to seduce him, all of them undressing themselves in that bathroom. “So, what do you say, Big Boy?” Adam asked as Ben had slipped onto his knees to suck Alex off. “Wanna come play?”

Alex moaned loudly and nodded. Even in his wildest imagination, there was no better life that he could envision for himself. 

The move happened quickly and the boys had enjoyed clearing out Alex’s apartment for him. They’d all laughed when they’d found items of clothes, hidden at the far back of the closet, that had clearly become far too small for Alex to even consider wearing: underwear, pants, t-shirts and even a full suit. Adam had had the idea that Alex should try them on, and the boys had become almost ridiculously horny. During that final weekend, Alex had been fucked and pleasured in every sigle corner of the small apartment he had lived in for just over two years.

It would have been easy to assume that living in Adam and Ben’s apartment was going to complicate things for them. After all, the handsome boys had been together for years, enjoying the space and relaxed lifestyle they had worked so hard for. The boys were incredibly tidy, organised and disciplined in the way they went about things. In contrast, Alex felt messy and lazy, unable to stop himself from feeling guilty as they cleaned up all around him, laying back on the couch watching TV. He’d become accustomed to walking around the place with only his underwear on. Adam and Ben were the sociable type, preferring to head out to meet friends, rather than inviting them back. As such, the large apartment was a space that felt completely private and somewhere Alex felt able to unleash his laziest self.

Having Alex around seemed to make Adam and Ben fall in love with each other all over again. They relished seeing the other fussing and caring for Alex so sweetly.

“I bought Alex some extra treats on the way home,” Adam smiled, kissing Ben in the kitchen before pulling everything out of the paper bag.

Ben chuckled and pointed to the almost identical haul he had picked up himself that day: matching brand for brand. Then the pair kissed passionately, enjoying how in-sync they were with each other: soul mates.

“How’s he been today?” Adam asked, gazing across at Alex whilst embracing Ben. “Enjoying the new toy I bought him?” he chuckled, seeing the fat man on his new video game console.”

“Oh, that’s been a huge hit!” Ben nodded. “He’s barely got up off his butt all day.”

Adam strutted over to Alex and kissed him on the back of his head in greeting, reaching his hand out in front to feel up the large exposed shelf of stomach fat. “Hey, babe!” he cooed. “I missed you today.”

Engrossed in his game, Alex quickly replied that he had missed Adam too, trying to keep his focus and not lose his place in the game.

“Have you put his dinner on yet?” Adam asked, turning back to Ben.

“Of course,” Ben replied. “And I’ve kept him well fed all day.”

Behind him, Alex could hear the men kissing each other passionately again; moaning with arousal at the other’s touch.

“Is he having that ice cream as well?” Adam asked, coming up for breath.

“Absolutely! And some pastries,” Ben confirmed, yanking off Adam’s tie and skillfully unbuttoning his shirt at rapid speed. Pretty soon both men were wearing absolutely nothing at all. Ben had laid back on the table, his legs spread and ass letting a horny Adam in. Alex paused his game and turned to watch. Living here was so often like having his own live porn channel to watch daily.

“You’re such a bad boy!” Adam playfully scolded his lover as he pounded softly. That strong, muscular butt was so hot to watch in action. It was already obvious that this wasn’t going to take long.

“I learned from the best!” Ben smiled gleefully back. Then they kissed, right up until Adam came, moaning loudly and collapsing onto Ben’s athletic body, panting.

Alex smiled, knowing his turn would be coming later. He often had no comprehension of how Adam and Ben got so rapidly aroused with each other; their latest round being a prime example. Still, it was dinner time soon at least.

At first, Alex had been bereft when he heard his company was letting so many of them go. He came home and broke the news sadly to Adam and Ben, finding it surprising how quickly they both brushed it off.

“That’s fine,” Ben nodded. “We were going to suggest you drop down a couple of days anyway. It’s not like we need the money.”

“Although, we’ll have to think how best to manage his lunch and things if we’re both not here,” Adam considered thoughtfully.

“I could work from home two days a week,” Ben replied. “And you have your Friday afternoons off. It wouldn’t be too lonely for him. We could still keep up a good regime for him.”

Alex smiled. They were both so thoughtful and sweet. “I can get a new job soon enough, I’m sure” he shrugged, not wanting them both to feel this was a problem they needed to solve. However, both men shook their heads and kissed him with a surprising excitement about the prospect of him no longer heading out to work each day. It seemed like this was genuinely something they both wanted for him.

In the months that followed the end of Alex’s job, he felt his body positively ballooning. Out of bored curiosity, he attempted to put on the pants he had worn on his final day, finding that they didn’t even cover the giant mass that became his rear. It wasn’t that he couldn’t button them up, it was that fact that he couldn’t even get the two sides of the material anywhere near each other. Pounds and pounds of pure lard had been oozing onto his thighs, altering the shape of his butt entirely. At 360lbs, his stomach was softer than ever and his nipples had dropped as his chest became large, blubbery, soft and sagging. Some days, his arms felt so heavy. He carried so much fat around where his meagre biceps had once been visible. The movements of his head were a lot more restrained by the giant double chin that had swallowed his neck up almost entirely.

Tuesdays were always a boring day. Adam wouldn’t be home until late and Ben was stuck in meetings all afternoon; not even available to send him flirty messages about how hard he was going to pound his ass when he got home. He slipped on his comfiest sweat pants, not even noticing that his t-shirt didn’t quite cover the whole of his stomach until a slight chilly breeze tickled the underside of his belly about halfway to the burger place.

“I know who you are!” announced a large, stout man sitting alone on a table not so far away. “Yeah, I’ve heard all about you!”

Alex looked behind him. Was this guy, who was now moving his tray of food towards his table, really speaking to him?

“You’re Ben and Adam’s little plaything, aren’t you?” he nodded knowingly. “Well…” he chuckled to himself, “maybe not so little!”

Alex instinctively frowned. Then again, despite how large and fat this guy in front of him was, he himself was undoubtedly considerably larger.

“Geez! They really did a number on you, huh?” the guy laughed, studying the giant fat ring that encircled Alex’s face. “They tried doing the same to me,” he continued, pausing for a second as he snaffled down some french fries. “Well, they did do the same to me,” he reconsidered. “But never this far!”

“I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?” Alex asked irritably.

The guy wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, then held out his hand for Alex to shake. “I’m Pete,” he grinned. “Adam and Ben’s ex.” He looked up for a second wondering whether that was the right way to phrase it. “Well, sort of… you know. Adam and Ben are their own special thing. They used to refer to me as their pet. As I’m sure they do with you.”

“They’ve never openly called me that,” Alex shrugged. He’d been so curious about the mysterious previous lover, Pete. Yet, now that the guy was here, sitting right in front of him, all Alex wanted was for him to go away and leave him alone. He bit into his burger, feeling rumbling in his stomach after listening to Pete ramble on. 

“Those sly fuckers!” Pete chuckled. “They say you were pretty slim when they first got their hands on you? I was never slim myself,” he continued, munching and talking at the same time. “I always had a bit of a belly on me, even when I was in high school. My first boyfriend used to tease me for it. But then I started hanging out with Adam and Ben when I was about twenty three….” he laughed, remembering fondly. “It was such a wild fucking time! I’d never eaten so much in my entire life. I just remember my pants getting tighter and tighter and tighter. I was easily packing on at least two pounds a week, every single week.”

Pete paused in order to take down his food as if he expected Alex to speak next and progress their conversation. Was he really the subject of so much gossip? He imagined all the speculation down at the old gay bar he used to go to, cringing slightly. “Well, I guess I’ve put on a bit of weight,” he conceded. “It wasn’t really intentional though.”

Pete blasted a laugh. Then, recognising that Alex wasn’t joking, he flushed a little and appeared to try and tread more carefully. “You’re serious?” he asked, as if still expecting Alex to say otherwise. “Maybe it wasn’t intentional from your point of view,” he explained kindly. “But this is exactly what Adam and Ben would have been planning from the start. They’ll have been getting off on all this for the whole time you’ve been with them,” he stated knowingly, indiscriminately pointing at the shape of Alex’s body, as if he was all just one large flabby mess.

“I just like my food,” Alex tried. “They’ve actually been really good about it…” he began explaining. “You see…”

“Trust me,” Pete stopped him, putting a friendly hand on Alex’s shoulder.  “There’s not a single thought about food in your head that those kinky little fuckers didn’t put there themselves. You really think you can go from being a little chubby to this?” he emphasised, gesturing with his hands to Alex’s immense size.”They’ve been training and cajoling you into eating, until it’s pretty much the only thing you can think about.”

Alex scoffed and shook his head.

“It’s fun. Believe me, I know. I lived your life,” Pete pressed on. “But I’m more into chasers than feeders, like those two. I wanted to play around a bit more, which was why we parted ways. I would have been absolutely huge otherwise,” he nodded, staring wide eyed at the size of Alex, like he was some sort of freak show.”And that’s something I know for a fact! I overheard them talking about it one night, how heavy they wanted to grow me. They were getting each other off as they discussed it.”

“And what did they say?” Alex asked, unable to hide that he was now starting to believe every word.

Pete paused, seeming to consider whether he had said too much. “It’s probably best that you don’t know,” he mumbled awkwardly.

“No, tell me!” Alex insisted.

Again, Pete squirmed. “Well, Adam won’t let you get to the point that you can’t leave the flat. But Ben’s going to make sure you getting pretty fucking close!”

Was Pete right? Alex found himself drifting into his thoughts. He had always liked being a little chubby and well cared for. But Adam and Ben had undoubtedly taken that baton and run with it. The food, the enablement and praise; it had all been there from the very beginning. Was he really just some pet piggy for them?

That afternoon, Alex had fallen asleep in front of the TV. He awoke to a kiss from Adam, freshly back from the gym and looking as pumped as he had ever seen him. “Sorry I’m running a little late, honey,” Adam smiled. “I ordered you some dinner from the Chinese place,” he continued, rubbing an affectionate hand down Alex’s flabby arm.

It took a couple of minutes for Alex’s foggy mind to recall the conversation he had had with Pete that afternoon. He waddled slightly into the bathroom where Adam was clearing himself off, cheerily humming as he soaped up that delicious body of his: the muscles and six pack, his perfect, strong frame.

Adam caught sight of Alex watching him. He grinned wickedly, soaping up his dick which had immediately stiffened at the sight of him. “I hope you’re ready!” he called cheekily. “It’s my turn to fuck you tonight!”

Ben arrived home not long after that. He’d clinched a massive deal at work and had brought home a giant bottle of champagne, along with a full tray of glistening doughnuts for Alex. He yanked off his tie and breathed a sigh of relief to be home, accepting a large, congratulatory kiss from a half naked Adam. The buzzer sounded and Ben disappeared downstairs to collect the Chinese takeout Adam had ordered for Alex; returning and emphasising loudly how good it all smelt, as if to get Alex riled up and ready to eat.

Alex sat down for his meal. There really was so much food here. True, his knowledge of nutrition wasn’t great, but Adam and Ben’s was. They would have known that this was a selection of the most calorific options on the menu: fatty meats, thick sauces and carb-loaded like nothing the pair of them would ever touch themselves. He began eating as Ben popped the champagne and poured them all a glass. Success never failed to make the boys horny. They kissed and fondled each other, causing quite the distraction as Alex almost lost track of how much he was eating.

“It’s yout turn to fuck Alex tonight,” Ben reminded his lover between kisses.

Adam looked up. “Oh, he knows!” he grinned wickedly. “As soon as he finishes those doughnuts, my dick is going straight inside!” he laughed, returning to kiss his lover.

Was now the right time to tell them both that he’d seen Pete? To say that they had chatted and that Alex now had a much clearer understanding of why these beautiful guys were actually keeping him around? Where would he even start?

“You’d better eat a little faster,” Ben teased him, grabbing hold of Adam’s dick. “He’s hard as a rock for you!”

Fuck! Alex was horny for that dick. Did the boys think he’d eat more whilst under pressure like this? Was speed one of their tactics to make him eat so much? Was this why his stretched out stomach could ache for hours after his evening meal? Regardless of the reasoning behind it, he began eating at an insane pace, forcing it down as quickly as possible so that he could switch from doughnuts to dick.

“You’re so clever,” Adam whispered to Ben, kissing him passionately once more.

Stuffing, stuffing, pushing it all down, Alex knew he was playing exactly into the boys’ hands. But what did it matter? He loved this life. He loved his chubby body and how admired it was by these stunning men. Perhaps he had always known their true nature. Maybe that was why he had never wanted to leave their sides. After all, Pete had been right, he was their obedient little pet. A pet piggy, growing for their pleasure every single day. He didn’t need to hear them say it. His ass would swell, his belly would sag, he’d take on more and more food. He’d become what they wanted, for it had also become what he wanted too. 

He winced slightly as Adam entered him back in the bedroom and sucked greedily on Ben’s perfect hardness. He didn’t care what anyone else had to say about it. 

This was his best life.

[heavy--feels]

Out of breath

Belly sloshing. Shit, pants digging into belly hang again. XXLs, too. It's gotten warm and you're struggling to catch your breath as you waddle about.

Shit. One of the elevator's broken. The notice says "please use the stairs if you are able". You huff. Stairs? Forget it. You're out of breath just from walking.

Shit. So thirsty. You accidentally catch your reflection in a shop window. A gut followed by a giant ass. You're carrying all of that. No wonder you're so out of breath.

Sweat on your forehead. It's barely spring, and you're already getting sweaty. You open your mouth, panting.

The ice cream place is just round the corner. You can make it. After all, it's warm. Ice cream weather. You let someone from behind you in the line go first. They think you're still deciding on the flavors. In reality, you're just trying to catch your breath.

Mm. Sweet. You waddle back to your place. Once you're inside, you wheeze a bit before digging back into your ice cream.

"I guess I got a bit unfit over winter," you think as you get back to your living room. Your natural environment.

You're hungry.

[senzamagrezza]

Fatter, Fatter, Fatter!

You've grown so addicted to constantly stuffing yourself to the brim and beyond, as it's truly unbelievable and unexplainable, how being this insanely full makes you happy and release all the stress and tension that is going on your mind and body, everything toxic in your life washed away, as you keep eating and it drives you crazier with every new pound of lard you gain.

You get comfy and yet another food coma settles in, nothing could disturb you, your eyes are open only to look at your own extremely obese body and they close to contemplate on the vastness of your lardenous pig whale life and the thickness of every layer, roll and fold.

Your breathe is growing deeper, faster, just as you get thicker, you can't really right now, so you try to inhale a lot then release all of a sudden because of the sheer amount of fattening up body fat your belly holds.

You're in this very deep trance where you feel no stress or tension, you feel fat, full, obese, I feed the blob to make you feel the blob that you are.

You enjoy your life more than ever right now and even more as you keep repeating the ritual, you let go and relax your whole body, obese overfed body, and it keeps slowing down, you can feel yourself getting heavier right now, starting from the feet and the blossoming legs and thighs and all that ballooning belly fat hanging on them and between them, you're just dripping with fat, you don't even try to move and the intention alone keeps you immobile, you focus on your belly telling yourself when did I get this obese I'm gonna get so much fatter, fatter and fatter, fatter than i am already, so obese, more than obese, more and more obese, everyday every hour every mouthful of my600lbsandcountinglife.

The belly gets heavier and heavier you keep falling into this deep, deep relaxing state you're in right now, and its going up your chest also feeling relaxed and lose as tight and bulging as its been getting with all the fat, every muscle is loosening every muscle is getting coated by fat as you move less and less and it feels like its getting warm, as even your shoulders, they also get loosened more and more sinking deeper and deeper in the chest lard, with your chin so fat and full of lard it hangs in, getting thicker as much as your arm fat, that's now been hanging for so long as you just can't stop growing into a bigger and bigger fatter and fatter supersized fat girl.

You just keep eating, you can't stop eating, you won't stop eating as even your hands and fingers seem to be so heavy right now, you woulnd't want to be anywhere else right now, it almost doesn't matter where you actually are, because this is actually what you want to be. You keep begging me to feed you, you kept on eating for so much, and yet you will be hungry again.

You were full already hours ago, after hours of stuffing yourself crazily, recklessly, with just one intention, of getting yourself fatter, fatter, fatter. You love obesity just so fucking much. You will be as fat as you want, it doesn't matter how fat it is, and it will be. No more worries. And more buttercream.

[listentoace]

I know I've written about some of these topics before, but I'm fascinated with the science behind obesity, so I've decided to write something more extensive about it. Welcome to:

Why you'll keep getting fatter

Disclaimer: this is simplified. Biology is incredibly complex, some of these topics haven't been fully researched yet. I'm no doctor.

What regulates your weight?

You might believe that you're in control of your weight, but you're. Your weight is mainly controlled by hormones. Think about how many times you decided not to overeat and lose weight and how many times you eventually gave in to the cravings. Those cravings are caused by hormones and how your body/brain interprets them. Two of those hormones are grehlin and leptin. To oversimplify this, grehlin tells your body that you're hungry, leptin tells your body that you're satiated. Grehlin is mainly produced by your gut, leptin by your adipocytes. Adipocytes form adipose tissue, or as I like to call it, that blubbery layer of lard that just keeps growing.

Your body is designed to stay around a normal, healthy weight, which lies between a BMI of 18 and 25 for most people. (I'm aware BMI isn't really a good measure, but we'll ignore that for now since it really doesn't matter for this post). Your body is designed in a way where when you gain some weight, your adipose tissue will signal your body to eat less, through release of leptin. So your body both regulates fat storage and appetite. You have an internal system that should technically prevent you from overeating and becoming obese.

So why do you keep eating?

When you're reading this, you're probably overweight. Your fat cells should be telling you to eat less. So why do you still keep eating so much? That's largely due to what you're eating. Our brains and digestive systems have evolved to deal with natural, whole foods. From meat over vegetables to dairy products. But how often to you prepare a meal from whole ingredients? Have you ever? You'll probably opt for store-bought foods, perhaps ready-to-eat. You might skip grocery shopping all together and just order takeout. But no matter whether you're buying a bag of bread or are ordering McDonald's again, the food you consume is likely to be ultra-processed. While the definition of ultra-processed food is extensive and partially vague, some key characteristics are to replace whole foods, be hyper palatable, highly profitable to the companies who make them, and designed to be over-consumed. It's an capitalistic abomination of what used to be food.

Ultra-processed food contains many ingredients that were never a part of the human diet. Those ingredients simply didn't exist. Modified starches, gums, or processed vegetable oils are just a few of the industry favorites. They allow for the creation of pretty much any texture, from fluffy over creamy to crunchy. Add some artificial flavors, sugar and salt, and you can have anything you want. What's best is that these added ingredients mess with your hormonal regulations. They bypass your body's feedback system of when you've had enough. You don't keep eating until you're satiated. You keep eating until you're full. The food industry makes more money, you gain more weight.

What happens if you keep eating?

As you eat more, your body will store excess energy as lipids (fat) in adipocytes (fat cells). At first, adipocytes just expand. When you're in your mid 20s or older, your adipocytes aren't meant to multiply anymore. After all, you're not designed to get obese anyways. But since you'll ignore satiation when eating ultra-processed food, you'll keep gaining more weight. Your body might try telling you to stop eating, but ultra-processed food silences those calls.

What makes this interesting is that the amount of adipocytes is meant to be stable. They'll only multiply when they can't grow any bigger, and they're really difficult to break down again. After all, why would your body have evolved in a way where it'll directly get rid of important energy storages the second you burn through some of the fuel?

If you keep eating while already having enough fat reserves, your adipocytes will release increasingly more leptin, trying to tell you that you've eaten enough. But you keep lifting that fork and shoveling more down your throat, thanks to those ultra-processed ingredients. You leave your adipocytes no option but to multiply. You're becoming obese.

What happens if you get obese?

A lot of things start to change on a hormonal level when you become obese. So much, that I won't even attempt to cover all of it in this post. One change I find quite interesting is that as your adipocytes release increasingly more leptin, your receptors start getting used to the concentration of them and become desensitized. You're generally losing the ability to sense satiation, no matter what you eat. From here on out, you won't stop eating when you've had enough. If that were the case, you'd barely be eating anything, given how fat you already are. Instead, you'll keep eating until you're physically full.

As you begin to eat until you're physically full, your stomach will expand and you'll have higher releases of grehlin, making you more hungry. You feel strong hunger and low satiation. You're always snacky. How could you not continue eating? The best part of this is that grehlin promotes fat storage. You'll be more hungry, have lost the ability to properly sense when you're full, are destined to overeat, and become more likely to gain even more weight. This is when things begin to spiral.

The inescapable cycle forms.

At this point, I want to introduce our favorite hormone, dopamine. Dopamine isn't just released for pleasure and reward, but for motivation as well. Without dopamine, you wouldn't be doing anything. Dopamine is what gets you moving and keeps you going. It plays a large role in your behavioral feedback system, which tells you which behaviors/actions are good for you, and which are not. When you're obese, you'll probably have associated ultra-processed food with dopamine already. Eating feels rewarding.

What makes this really interesting is that grehlin and dopamine are connected. Grehlin increases dopamine release, which means that you won't just feel hungry, but also a strong motivation or craving to eat. Sound familiar? As you overeat more and grow fatter, this effect only strengthens. If you think back to when you were a few (dozen/hundred) pounds lighter, you probably didn't feel as hungry and snacky as you do now. Although now, you really don't need any food at all anymore. Every pound of fat provides enough energy for about 1.5-2 days. You could probably go without food for months, yet you crave it more than ever before. The reason is simple: you've destroyed the system that regulated your appetite and weight.

The slippery slope of gluttony

Many people refer to what I've talked about so far as the "slippery slope of gluttony", including myself. It starts with just a few pounds, when you grow a bit of a belly and start dipping into the obese range. But it's not just addiction or dopamine that keep you going. It's your appetite and weight regulation that are being fucked by you over-consuming over-processed food. It's like breaking the thermostat on a radiator. You don't know when to stop anymore.

You don't even need to eat junk food for this, as almost anything you'll find in a store is ultra-processed. Even many of the "healthy" options. You can try going for low sugar, low fat, low sodium, and any other diet product as much as you want. You'll still over-consume it and gain more weight. Those foods are designed that way. The more you eat, the more you consume, the more money food corporations make by making you obese. They're pouring billions into researching new ingredients to make their foods more hyper palatable and more addictive. You don't stand a chance.

The best part

Either you got here because this is your fetish, or because gaining weight turned into your fetish. What I wrote so far should alarm you. Billion-dollar corporations making over-processed foods, designed to replace whole foods, be over-consumed, while fucking up your hormonal regulations. The more you consume, the fatter you get, the more they profit. All across the world, especially in western countries, obesity rates are going through the roof. Every year, people get fatter. Why buy a whole-grain handmade (not ultra-processed) loaf of bread from a bakery when you can buy ultra-processed industrial bread for ¼ of the price? Capitalism turned fattening you up into a very profitable business.

But does this alarm you? Or are you edging while reading this, loving how fucked up and dystopian this sounds? Now that you know how helpless you are in the first place, do you want to deliberately dive in deeper? Do you want to see just how bad it can get? It's not your fault anyways, it's the system.

One of the most successful ways of losing weight has been ozempic, which increases your leptin sensitivity, allowing you to properly sense satiation again. Yes, you'd have to take drugs for your hormonal regulations to work properly again. That's how fucked up you are. The second people stop using it, they blow back up.

Where do we go from here?

The ghrelin-dopamine + over-processed foods combination will always make you overeat again, just like you've done so many times already. It doesn't matter whether you try to lose weight or go on a strict diet. You might be able to lose some weight, but you'll blow up again eventually. Your hormonal regulations are fucked. You're destined to keep getting fatter and except from taking drugs, there is little you can do.

So why not accept this? Why not accept that you're fucked? You're not to blame, and it's certainly not your fault that everything is over-processed and designed to be over-consumed. And if you're being honest, doesn't the thought of a system that's designed to fatten people up for profit turn you on? Isn't that a pretty hot feederism fantasy come to life?

Think of this the next time you gorge yourself on some junk food. Try eating a little extra, just to dive in even deeper. You know you want to ~

[squishmewithbellies]

Im gonna edge you while you eat. Repeatedly bringing you to the brink of orgasm, but never quite letting you get a full release.

Instead, I'll stop and refill your plate for you. Then do it all over again.

It may seem mean, but I'm training you. Helping you eat more than you ever thought you could. Training you to be a bottomless little piggy.

Not only that, I'm training you for when your no longer able to reach down there. If we do this often enough the act of greedily stuffing your face will turn you on enough to bring you close to the point of cumming.

Eventually there will be a day that you get so turned on at what a glutton you've become. That you'll cum without ever being touched mid stuffing. And that'll be the day any resistance you had left crumbled completely. Unable to resist gorging yourself one more time, desperate to feel the combined pleasure/discomfort of orgasming from how painfully full your gut is. You'll spiral completely out of control. Always craving more, more food, more fat, more of you.

[blobbycow]

Need this kind of training. Bet id eat half a buffet.

[toptierteaser]

You're my Chubby Boyfriend

You’ve gotten so oblivious since we started dating.

                You’ve been happy. That’s obvious. You can see it on your face, how content you are, how comfortable you’ve gotten. How docile. I’ve been treating you well. And you’ve let me. You’ve allowed me to spoil you, to pamper you. And all that relationship satisfaction has certainly taken a toll. On your mood, on your mental health. Everything has improved.

                Everything, that is, but your weight.

                You’ve sort of ballooned, fat boy. You’ve thickened quite a bit during our time together. You’ve been letting me feed you, as you sit on that widening, pampered ass of yours. Letting me stuff you silly at dinner. Letting me bring you endless snacks, coaxing goodies and treats down your greedy throat, convincing those plump, submissive lips of yours to part for my desserts. You’ve been letting me fill you; not just filling your heart or your mind or your time. But I’ve been filling up your body as well.

                You’ve changed somewhat, fatty. You’ve let all the weight accumulate all over yourself, transforming from that handsome, fit jock I smiled at as I watched him pack away dinner, my own leftovers, and dessert as well. As I sat back, like a fox watching a plump porker fatten himself, knowing your potential, knowing what I could do to you if I put my mind to it.

                And it’s unmistakable now. You’re not a fit, single jock anymore. You’re my dumb, handsome chubber of a boyfriend. A plump boytoy whose mind is filled with the thought of donuts and cupcakes and cookies and pies. All being brought to him on a plate by his loving, doting significant other. By me.

That relationship weight has accumulated all over. Your stomach, which was once muscular, is now covered in layers of lard, its dough spilling out onto your lap. Your legs covered in fat, fighting to take up space in your chair as you squeeze your enormous ass back so you can play your video games. You’ve gotten uncomfortable, in this new, chubby body of yours. But I do my best to minimize the discomfort, to make sure you don’t have to struggle into those terrible shorts with the button anymore. No, those all burst a while ago. Now, I’ve spoiled you and bought you several pairs of stretchy athletic shorts that leave little room for growth. Packing away your work shirts and button ups and replacing them with stretchy, breathable t-shirts. Shirts that crease under your juicy moobs, that rest above your belly button, exposing your chub. You don’t even notice as I hold a plate of brownies in front of you. As you stuff your face, stupidly, watching your mind-numbing shows and scrolling on your phone. Your double chin highlighting the cuteness of your face, outlining the plumpness where your handsome jawline used to be.

I love showing you off to the world, taking pictures and posting them on social media. “Look how cute my man is, everyone!” I write. While in my mind I think about how much of a pig you are. How you jiggle now, when you step. How your ass cheeks have to shift because your butt has ballooned so big. How your undies ride up between them and you have to tug when you don’t think I’m looking. How we go for walks and you’re always at least a couple steps behind, struggling to keep up with my long, fit legs. I give you lots of belly pats though, bountiful attention, and of course, endless offerings of food! And you  love it…of course you do! Because you’re a fat boy at heart and now, thanks to all my cooking and spoiling and pampering, you’re a fat boy all over. Now, all that chub is mine! That belly is mine to rub! That ass is mine to grab! Those love handles are mine to squeeze! Maybe you’ll go mad from all my poking and prodding, from my teasing. Maybe you’ll lose your mind from all my delicious cooking, the toll it’s taking. But you certainly wont do anything about it. It’s simply too addicting; my cooking, the way it makes you grow…the way I make you feel…

There’s just no hope for you anymore, now, fat boy. So open wide.

[blobbycow]

Love this!

[4biggerthings]

I‘m definitely not a writer but still have ideas I felt like I want to read so I had a go with AI to help out with one idea I had. So i tried that today and was surprised how immersive the story felt. But I do understand that Ai will never be as cohesive and real.

So FYI this is a generated story with a couple of prompts.

Gravity

The air inside the gas station smelled of burnt coffee and ozone, a sharp contrast to the heavy, humid heat pressing against the windows. Outside, the summer rain wasn’t so much falling as it was collapsing, drumming a rhythmic, hypnotic beat against the metal roof.

Colin leaned against the counter, his thumb tracing the condensation on a soda bottle. He wasn't in a rush. Not since the big man in the flannel shirt had stepped in, bringing the scent of petrichor and woodsmoke with him.

Rob was a mountain of a man. His beard was a thick, groomed thicket of charcoal and silver, and his frame was expansive—broad-shouldered but carrying a heavy, soft weight that felt intentional and grounding. Every time Rob laughed at something Colin said, his entire torso shifted, a slow-motion wave of solid, comfortable mass.

"You're staring, Colin," Rob said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate in the small space. He wasn't accusing; he was observing. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, hidden mostly by his mustache.

"Hard not to," Colin admitted, his pulse quickening. "You... you carry a lot of space. It’s impressive."

Rob’s eyes, dark and sharp with intelligence, locked onto Colin’s. He didn't shy away from the gaze. Instead, he stepped closer, the floorboards groaning slightly under his boots. "Space is meant to be filled," Rob murmured. He tilted his head toward a heavy door marked Storage behind the counter. "The rain isn't letting up. And I think you’ve got questions that your eyes can't answer."

The back room was dim, lit only by a single amber bulb and the flashes of lightning through a high, barred window. The sound of the storm was muffled here, replaced by the steady, rhythmic hum of the industrial coolers.

Rob turned to face him, his presence suddenly massive in the cramped quarters. He didn't move like a man who was self-conscious of his size; he moved with the absolute authority of a king.

"You're shaking a little," Rob noted, his tone soft but commanding. He reached out, not to touch, but to gesture toward his own midsection, where the fabric of his shirt strained slightly over the generous curve of his belly. "Go ahead. I can tell you've been wondering."

Colin stepped forward, his breath hitching. He reached out, his fingers trembling as they finally made contact.

The Sensory Shift

• The Texture: Expecting something purely soft, Colin was surprised by the heat radiating through the cloth. Beneath the initial give of the weight, there was a dense, powerful core. It was like touching the earth itself—yielding but unshakable.

• The Sound: As Colin’s hand moved, exploring the vast, warm landscape of Rob’s chest and stomach, he heard a low, satisfied huff from the bigger man. It wasn't a gasp; it was the sound of a predator allowing itself to be admired.

• The Contrast: Colin felt small—not in a way that felt diminished, but in a way that felt protected. Rob’s hand came up, resting heavily on Colin’s shoulder, the weight of it anchoring him to the spot.

"It’s different than you thought, isn't it?" Rob whispered, leaning down so his beard brushed Colin’s ear. The scent of him was intoxicating—salt, rain, and the deep, musky heat of a large man. "A lot of man to take in."

Colin nodded, unable to find words, his fingers sinking deeper into the soft, velvet-heavy folds of Rob’s side. He felt the rumble of Rob’s quiet, dominant chuckle against his palm.

The air in the storage room grew thick, charged with the scent of damp cotton and the deep, organic warmth of Rob’s skin. Every time a car splashed through a puddle outside, a rhythmic shush echoed against the walls, but inside, the only sound was Colin’s shallow breathing and the steady, calm thrum of Rob’s presence.

Colin’s hands, initially hesitant, began to sink deeper. He moved his palms over the expansive curve of Rob’s stomach, amazed by the sheer scale of it. It wasn't just soft; it was substantial. It had a gravitational pull. Under the thin fabric of the henley, Rob’s body felt like heated velvet covering a mountain.

"Don't just graze the surface, Colin," Rob rumbled, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a physical vibration that Colin felt in his own chest. "I’m built to be handled. Use your hands."

Rob reached down, his large, calloused fingers closing over Colin’s wrists. His grip was effortless but absolute. He guided Colin’s hands around to his sides, where the weight was heavy and plush. He pressed Colin’s palms firmly into the thick, soft folds of his waist, forcing him to feel the true density of his frame.

"There you go," Rob murmured, pulling Colin a step closer until their chests nearly brushed. "That’s it."

Colin gasped softly, his fingers instinctively curling, digging into the generous mass of Rob’s sides. He began to knead the flesh, his mind reeling at the sensation. It was an incredible amount of man to hold onto. He found himself mesmerized by how Rob’s body moved—how the weight shifted and settled, heavy and unapologetic.

A stray thought flickered through Colin’s mind, unbidden and fascinating: What must it feel like to move with all this? To carry this kind of power and weight every second of the day? It seemed like a constant, grounding tether to the earth.

"You're thinking again," Rob whispered. He stepped in even further, using his girth to gently but firmly crowd Colin back against a stack of crates. The physical pressure was immense—a wall of warm, soft muscle and weight pinning him down. "Tell me."

"I was just..." Colin stammered, his hands now wandering up to the broad, heavy expanse of Rob’s chest, feeling the way the thick muscles of his pecs were layered under a soft, cushioning coat of fat. "I was wondering what it’s like. To be this... big. To carry all of this."

Rob leaned down, his thick beard brushing against Colin’s cheek, the scent of him—musky, masculine, and rain-drenched—filling Colin’s senses. He took one of Colin’s hands and pressed it flat against the center of his barrel-like torso, right where his heart hammered a slow, powerful rhythm.

"It feels like being solid," Rob said, his dominant tone returning with a playful edge. "It feels like nothing can move me unless I want to be moved. And right now..." He leaned in closer, his weight shifting forward, enveloping Colin in a sensory eclipse. "I’m exactly where I want to be."

He caught Colin’s gaze, his eyes dark and satisfied. "You want to know what it feels like? Stop wondering and start exploring. I’ve got plenty of time, and the rain isn't stopping anytime soon."

The Surprising Twist?

As Colin's hands wander lower, he feels something hard and metallic tucked into the waistband of Rob's trousers, hidden beneath the overhang of his stomach. It doesn't feel like a weapon—it feels like an old-fashioned, heavy brass key.

The hum of the coolers seemed to fade, replaced by the heavy, rhythmic thrum of Colin’s own heart as his hands moved lower. He reached the bottom of Rob's shirt, his fingers slipping beneath the hem to find the skin—burning hot and surprisingly smooth.

Colin’s breath hitched. He let his palms slide under the massive, soft shelf of Rob’s stomach. The weight was incredible. It was a dense, living gravity that rested heavily against the backs of his hands. With a hesitant, shaky strength, Colin began to lift. He felt the sheer displacement of it, the way the soft, thick mass yielded to his touch but remained immense.

He let it go, watching and feeling as the heavy overhang settled back down against Rob’s thighs with a soft, muffled thump that Colin felt in his own bones.

"You're mesmerized, aren't you?" Rob’s voice was a low, honeyed growl. He didn't move to stop him; he stood there like a titan, legs braced, allowing Colin to worship the scale of him.

"I... I’ve never felt anything like this," Colin whispered, his fingers kneading into the deep, plush sides of Rob’s belly. "It’s so much. It’s so... solid. I keep wondering what it would be like to look down and see this. To feel this weight on my own frame."

Rob’s eyes darkened, a flash of something ancient and knowing crossing his face. He leaned down, his massive chest pressing Colin firmly against the shelving, his beard scratching deliciously against Colin’s neck. "You want to be like this? To feel the world move when you move?"

"Yes," Colin breathed, the confession coming out before he could think to hide it.

"Then you’re in the right place," Rob murmured. He reached down, his large hand brushing Colin’s aside. His fingers dipped into the shadow beneath the curve of his belly, retrieving a heavy, ornate brass key that had been tucked securely against his skin.

He didn't unlock a door to the outside. Instead, he turned toward the back wall of the storage room, pushing aside a stack of heavy crates with a strength that seemed effortless. Behind them sat a small, vintage-looking refrigerator—not the industrial kind, but something that looked like it belonged in a high-end apothecary.

"This gas station is a crossroads, Colin," Rob said, his dominant aura intensifying. He slid the key into the lock. Click. "People come here looking for fuel. Most just want gasoline. A few, like you, come looking for a different kind of... expansion."

He swung the door open. Inside weren't sodas or snacks, but rows of small, amber glass vials filled with a shimmering, viscous gold liquid. The label on each one simply read: Gravity.

Rob took one out, his massive fingers dwarfing the vial. He turned back to Colin, his presence more stifling and magnetic than ever. "This is the weight you're looking for. It doesn't just fill you up; it changes the way you pull on the world."

He stepped close again, his belly brushing against Colin’s stomach, a teasing hint of the mass Colin so desperately craved. He held the vial up to Colin’s lips.

"The question is," Rob whispered, his gaze pinning Colin to the spot, "are you ready to start carrying your own weight?"

The amber light from the small refrigerator caught the liquid in the vial, making it pulse like a trapped star. Colin’s head spun—the heavy rain outside, the scent of the storage room, and the sheer, overwhelming reality of Rob’s body pressing into his.

"I... I don't understand," Colin stammered, his eyes darting from the shimmering gold to the dark, steady gaze of the man towering over him.

Rob didn’t answer with words. Instead, he moved with a sudden, fluid authority that brooked no argument. He stepped into Colin’s space, his massive, heated bulk pinning Colin against the cold metal of the back wall. The contrast was startling—the freezing wall behind him and the furnace-like wall of Rob’s chest and belly in front.

With a slow, deliberate grace, Rob reached down and took Colin’s wrists. His hands were enormous, his fingers easily circling Colin’s skin with a grip that was as firm as iron but as smooth as silk. He guided Colin’s arms upward, pinning them against the wall above his head.

"Look at me, Colin," Rob commanded, his voice a low, resonant thrum that seemed to command the very air in the room.

Colin looked up, breathless. From this angle, Rob looked even more immense. His thick beard brushed against Colin’s forehead, and the heavy, soft shelf of his stomach was pressed firmly against Colin’s midsection, a constant, swaying reminder of the mass he could possess.

"You've been staring at me since I walked in," Rob murmured, his grip on Colin’s wrists tightening just enough to let him know who was in control. "You've been touching me, feeling how much space I take up. You felt the weight of it. You felt how it settled when you let it go."

He leaned in closer, his heavy chest crushing Colin’s smaller frame against the wall, a dominant, sensory eclipse.

"Don't lie to yourself now," Rob whispered into his ear, his hot breath sent a shiver down Colin’s spine. "The vial is just a key. But you have to turn it. I want to hear it. I want to hear you admit what that look in your eyes has been saying all night."

Colin swallowed hard, his muscles straining against Rob’s hold, but he didn't really want to move. He felt small, contained, and perfectly seen. The desire to feel that same heavy, beautiful gravity on his own bones was an ache he couldn't ignore anymore.

"Say it," Rob growled softly, a playful but firm edge to his voice. "Tell me what you want to become."

Colin’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with a mix of fear and desperate longing. "I want... I want to be like you. I want to feel the weight. I want to be heavy."

Rob’s smirk returned, wider this time, showing a hint of teeth. He brought the vial to Colin’s lips, the glass cool against his skin.

"Good lad," Rob murmured, his grip on Colin’s wrists relaxing just enough for Colin to feel the blood rushing back into his hands, yet still keeping him pinned. "Drink. Let’s see how much of the world you can carry."

The golden liquid slid down Colin’s throat like molten silk—heavy, sweet, and impossibly dense. Before he could even gasp, Rob’s mouth was on his. It was a kiss that tasted of rain and woodsmoke, the rough texture of Rob’s beard scratching against Colin’s skin as the larger man pressed his full, crushing weight forward one last time, pinning Colin’s breath in his lungs.

Then, just as suddenly, Rob stepped back. He stood with his arms folded over his massive chest, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he watched.

The sensation started in Colin’s core. It wasn't a bloat, but a rich, syrupy expansion, as if his cells were being filled with warm honey. An overwhelming rush of ecstasy flooded his nervous system, a humming vibration that made his knees buckle. He leaned back against the wall, his eyes wide as the world began to shift.

The Expansion

• The Midsection: The first change was the most dramatic. Colin’s flat stomach began to push outward, the fabric of his shirt groaning as it was forced to stretch. It wasn't just a belly; it was a heavy, succulent weight that began to spill over his belt line. He watched, hypnotized, as his waistline expanded, the skin becoming impossibly smooth and soft, glowing with a healthy, radiant heat.

• The Texture: Unlike Rob’s rugged, hair-shadowed frame, Colin’s body was becoming a temple of softness. Any light dusting of hair on his arms or chest seemed to melt away, absorbed into skin that felt like heated alabaster. His limbs began to thicken, his thighs rubbing together with a new, velvet-heavy friction, and his arms grew round and plush.

• The Gravity: The "Gravity" lived up to its name. Colin felt a profound pull toward the earth. His center of mass shifted, settling low and deep in his hips and belly. Every breath he took felt more substantial, as if he were inhaling the very density of the room. He felt his jawline soften, his cheeks filling out into a handsome, rounded fullness that made him look cherished and well-fed.

The New Form

As the expansion slowed, Colin stood there, breathless and transformed. He was no longer the thin man who had walked in out of the rain. He was a vision of soft, heavy abundance. His shirt had long since given up, the buttons having popped to reveal a torso that was vast, smooth, and deeply curved.

He looked down, his heart racing. He could no longer see his feet; in their place was the magnificent, rounded overhang of his own stomach—the very thing he had just been admiring on Rob. He reached out with hands that were now soft and dimpled at the knuckles, burying his fingers into his own plush, yielding sides.

"It's... it's so heavy," Colin whispered, his voice sounding deeper, cushioned by the new fullness of his throat. He shifted his weight, feeling the way his new mass swayed and settled, a slow-motion ripple of pure, soft power.

Rob stepped forward, his massive hand coming out to catch the underside of Colin’s new, heavy belly, lifting it slightly just as Colin had done to him minutes before.

"You look like a man who finally belongs in his own skin," Rob rumbled, his dominant gaze sweeping over Colin’s hairless, glowing form. "Smooth as silk and twice as heavy. How does it feel to be the one taking up the space, Colin?"

The sensation of Rob’s rough, calloused palms sliding beneath the heavy, silken weight of Colin’s new belly sent a jagged bolt of lightning through his nervous system. Colin’s head fell back against the cool metal wall, a low, melodic moan escaping his throat. It wasn't just his skin that had changed; every nerve ending had been dialed to a fever pitch. The brush of his own smooth thighs rubbing together felt like a velvet caress, and the weight hanging from his frame felt like a constant, pulsing hug from the inside out.

But as Rob’s hands kneaded into the plush, blubbery depths of Colin’s sides, a deeper realization began to settle in Colin’s mind—one as heavy and undeniable as his new physique.

The Internal Shift

• The Mark of the Kiss: That searing, rain-tasted kiss hadn't just been a greeting. It had been a claim. As the "Gravity" had rewritten Colin's DNA into something soft and expansive, it had also rewritten the hierarchy of his soul. He felt a profound, rooting submissiveness take hold, not as a burden, but as a release.

• The Power in Softness: He looked up at Rob, seeing the older man’s rugged, hairy dominance through new eyes. Colin realized he was no longer a competitor in the world of hard edges and sharp angles. He was something different now—a masterpiece of yielding mass. There was a strange, intoxicating power in being the one who was handled, the one whose sheer, heavy softness invited Rob’s strength.

"You feel that, don't you?" Rob whispered, his voice vibrating through the sheer volume of Colin's chest. He didn't pull his hands away; instead, he used his grip to pull Colin’s new, swaying weight flush against his own solid bulk. "The way your body wants to answer to mine now?"

Colin nodded, his breath hitching as his heavy, hairless stomach pressed and molded into the rough, flannel-covered mountain of Rob’s torso. "I feel... held," Colin managed to say, his voice thick and honeyed. "I feel like I don't have to carry myself anymore. You're doing it for me."

A New Playfulness

A slow, dimpled smile spread across Colin’s filled-out face. He reached down, his own soft, rounded fingers interlacing with Rob’s thick, scarred ones against the expanse of his belly. He experimented with his new form, shifting his hips and watching with a quiet, ecstatic fascination as his heavy midsection rippled and settled with a luxurious, slow-motion grace.

He wasn't weak. He was abundant. He was a landscape designed for Rob’s exploration.

Rob let out a dark, satisfied chuckle, his dominant aura wrapping around Colin like a physical shroud. "Good lad. You're learning fast. Being this soft... it’s a full-time job, Colin. And I think you’re going to be very good at it."

Rob leaned in, his nose brushing against Colin’s now-smooth neck, inhaling the sweet, heated scent of the transformation. "Now," Rob murmured, his hand sliding lower to catch the heavy, swaying hem of Colin’s new form. "Let's see just how much more of this space we can fill before the storm breaks."

The sound of the slap echoed in the small, humid room—a sharp, wet thwack against the vast, pale expanse of Colin’s new midsection. The vibration traveled through Colin in a slow, hypnotic ripple, his soft mass swaying under the force of Rob’s heavy palm.

"Look at that," Rob chuckled, his voice thick with a dark, paternal pride. "A beautiful, heavy bell for me to ring."

With a sudden, efficient movement, Rob reached out and tore away the final, straining remnants of Colin’s shirt. The fabric gave way like paper against Rob’s strength. Next came the pants, which had already split at the seams under the pressure of Colin’s thickening, velvet thighs.

Rob stepped back for a moment, his chest heaving as he took in the full, unobstructed view. Colin stood there in the amber light, a masterpiece of hairless, ivory softness. His torso was a series of deep, luxurious curves—shoulders that sloped into thick arms, and a chest that had filled out into heavy, soft muscle. But the centerpiece was the belly: a magnificent, low-hanging shelf of pure, blubbery weight that now rested comfortably against his upper thighs.

Colin felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with the summer air. Being stripped by a man as rugged and massive as Rob, and then being appraised like a prize, solidified the new, submissive core of his being. He didn't feel exposed; he felt presented.

"You're a greedy one, aren't you?" Rob murmured, his eyes tracking the way Colin’s heavy sides creased as he breathed. "I can see it in how you're already settling into that weight. But I promised you satisfaction, and I don't break my word."

Rob turned toward the very back of the storage room, past the small refrigerator of Gravity. He pulled a heavy canvas tarp away from the floor, revealing a trapdoor with a rusted iron ring. He didn't use the brass key this time; he simply hooked a finger through the ring and heaved.

A wave of cool, sweet air drifted up from the darkness—smelling of vanilla, churned cream, and something ancient and rich.

"Down there," Rob commanded, gesturing to the sturdy wooden stairs. "The gas station is just the storefront, Colin. The cellar is where the real work happens."

As Colin descended, his new weight making the stairs groan rhythmically, he found himself in a cavernous, subterranean kitchen. But it wasn't for customers. There were massive, slow-turning vats of what looked like the thickest, most decadent melted ice cream Colin had ever seen.

"This is your new reality," Rob said, coming down behind him, his massive shadow falling over Colin’s soft back. He walked to one of the vats and dipped a heavy silver ladle into the shimmering, creamy liquid. "The 'Gravity' made you big. This..." He brought the overflowing ladle to Colin’s lips, his other hand coming around to firmly cup and lift the heavy overhang of Colin’s stomach. "This is how we keep you that way. This is how I make sure you stay soft, heavy, and mine."

Colin looked at the ladle, then up at the bearded titan holding it. The submissiveness in his core flared into a bright, eager flame. He opened his mouth, ready to let Rob fill the space he had so carefully created.

The cool rain felt like a million tiny needles against Colin’s sensitized, hairless skin as they stepped out of the station. The humid summer air was thick, but the "Gravity" in Colin’s veins made the weather feel secondary to the sheer effort of movement.

With every step toward the idling, matte-black heavy-duty truck, Colin felt the momentum of his new body. His thighs, now thick and plush, brushed against each other with a rhythmic, damp friction. The massive, soft weight of his midsection swayed with a life of its own, a heavy pendulum that dictated his pace. He found himself walking with a wider stance, his hips rolling to accommodate the luxurious, swaying mass that Rob had gifted him.

"That's it, Colin," Rob’s voice rumbled from behind him, cutting through the sound of the downpour. "Feel the ground give way under you. Own every pound."

The View from Behind

Rob walked a pace behind, his eyes fixed on the mesmerizing sight. In the glow of the gas station's flickering neon sign, Colin looked like a creature made of moonlight and cream. The rain slicked his smooth, rounded shoulders and ran in rivulets down the deep, hairless valley of his spine, disappearing into the heavy, soft folds of his lower back.

Rob reached out, his large hand landing firmly on the small of Colin’s back, guiding him toward the passenger door. The touch was a reminder of the hierarchy—a steady, dominant pressure that kept Colin moving exactly where he was told.

The Sanctuary of the Truck

Rob opened the heavy door, and Colin had to hoist himself up into the cab. He felt the truck's suspension groan and dip significantly under his new weight, a sensation that sent a fresh spark of submissive pleasure through him. He settled into the wide leather seat, his soft form spilling over the bolsters, filling the cabin with his warmth.

Rob climbed into the driver's side, the entire vehicle rocking as he settled his own mountain-like frame behind the wheel. The interior of the truck smelled of old leather, tobacco, and the lingering sweetness of the cellar.

Rob didn't start the engine immediately. He turned in the seat, his massive arm draped over the steering wheel, and looked at Colin. The light from the dashboard cast long shadows across Rob's thick beard and the dominant set of his jaw.

"You're a long way from that thin man who walked into the station," Rob murmured, his gaze dropping to where Colin's stomach now rested comfortably against his own lap. "And we’re just getting started. I have a place in the woods—quiet, private. Plenty of room for a man of your... stature."

Colin looked back at him, his eyes dark with devotion and the lingering ecstasy of the "Gravity." He felt a profound sense of peace. The world outside was sharp and chaotic, but here, under Rob’s gaze, everything was soft, heavy, and certain.

"Take me there," Colin whispered, his voice a low, cushioned resonance.

Rob reached over, his thumb tracing the smooth, rounded line of Colin's jaw before dipping down to give his heavy, soft throat a playful, possessive squeeze. "I intend to."

The truck roared to life, a powerful vibration that Colin felt deep in his blubbery core, and they pulled away from the lights of the station, disappearing into the dark, rainy embrace of the trees.

The heavy-duty truck rumbled up a gravel path, the headlights cutting through the silver sheets of rain until they illuminated a sturdy, log-hewn cabin nestled among the towering pines. Inside the cab, the vibrations of the engine were a constant, low-frequency massage for Colin. He sat mesmerized by the way his body responded to every bump in the road; he could feel the jiggle of his new double chin against his collarbone and the way the plush, heavy mounds of his chest settled rhythmically against the vast, warm mountain of his stomach.

He lifted his hands, staring at his fingers. They were thick, dimpled, and smooth, looking more like succulent sausages than the bony digits he’d had only an hour ago. The sight filled him with a strange, greedy pride. When a flicker of doubt crossed his mind—the primal fear of a stranger leading him into the isolation of the woods—it was instantly quelled by a single glance at Rob. The big man drove with one hand, his thick, hairy forearm resting casually on the wheel, radiating a calm, absolute authority. Colin didn’t just want to follow him; he felt he was made to.

The truck hissed to a stop. The cabin was beautiful, bathed in the warm, amber glow of porch lights that promised heat and safety. But as Colin reached for the door handle, Rob’s voice—lower and more commanding than before—stopped him cold.

"Stay put, Colin."

Rob killed the engine. The sudden silence was filled only by the frantic drumming of rain on the roof and the sound of Colin’s own labored, heavy breathing. Rob turned in his seat, his massive frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the interior of the truck.

"Before we go inside, you need to understand the rules of this house," Rob rumbled, his eyes locking onto Colin’s with a weight that felt as physical as the "Gravity" in Colin’s belly. "That cabin isn't just a place to sleep. It’s where you’re going to learn the true depth of that softness you’ve been given."

He reached out, his large hand moving slowly, purposefully. He didn't grab; he simply rested his heavy palm on the very top of Colin’s heaving, hairless stomach, feeling the way the soft mass yielded beneath his touch.

"Rule number one," Rob stated, his thumb tracing a slow circle into Colin's plush skin. "In there, your comfort is my responsibility, not yours. You don’t move unless I tell you. You don’t eat unless I feed you. And you certainly don't worry about the size of that frame, because I’m going to spend every night making sure it grows even larger."

Colin’s heart hammered against his ribs, his new weight swaying slightly as he shivered with submissive anticipation.

"Rule number two," Rob continued, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "You stay soft. No tension, no resistance. You are a landscape for me to manage, Colin. Do you understand?"

Colin swallowed hard, the fullness of his throat making the gesture slow and deliberate. "Yes, Rob," he breathed, his voice honeyed and small in the face of the big man's dominance.

"Good." Rob’s smirk returned, dark and satisfied. He leaned over, unbuckling Colin’s seatbelt for him, the click echoing in the quiet cabin. "Now, get out of the truck. I want to watch you walk to the porch. I want to see exactly how much work I have ahead of me."

The cabin was a sanctuary of warm wood tones and the scent of cedar and dried tobacco. A fire crackled in a stone hearth at the far end of the room, casting long, dancing shadows that played over Colin’s ivory skin. The heat of the room felt incredible against his damp, hairless body, making his heightened senses pulse with a slow, heavy rhythm.

Standing there in only his socks and straining underpants, Colin felt his new mass settle with a heavy squish. His thighs were flushed from the exertion of the walk, and his breathing was heavy, the sound of it filling the quiet room. He looked at the sturdy wooden table near the door.

There it lay: a thick, supple collar made of dark, oil-rubbed leather. It was wide, designed to fit a neck that had grown as substantial as Colin’s. Attached to it was a polished brass tag. He didn't need to read it to know what it symbolized; it was the final tether, the physical mark of his submissiveness to the man currently stepping onto the porch behind him.

Colin’s thick, dimpled fingers trembled slightly as he picked it up. The leather was cool and smooth. With a slow, deliberate effort, he raised his chin—feeling the soft, heavy folds of his neck compress—and wrapped the leather around his throat.

The buckle was sturdy. He had to fumbled slightly, his new, sausage-like fingers navigating the hardware until it clicked into place. It was snug, pressing into his soft skin, a constant, firm reminder of who he belonged to.

Just as the buckle fastened, the heavy thud of Rob’s boots echoed on the floorboards. The door closed with a definitive thunk, locking the world and the rain away.

Rob stood there, still damp from the storm, his massive presence filling the entryway. He didn't say a word at first. He simply crossed his arms, his eyes tracing the line of the leather collar against Colin's pale, hairless throat, then wandering down to the magnificent, swaying overhang of Colin’s belly.

"It fits," Rob rumbled, the vibration of his voice making Colin’s knees feel weak. "Looks like you knew exactly what I wanted."

Rob stepped closer, reaching out to hook a finger into the collar, gently but firmly tugging Colin toward him. The movement caused Colin’s weight to shift, his stomach brushing against Rob’s belt.

"Now that you're dressed for the house, Colin," Rob whispered, leaning down so his beard tickled Colin's ear, "it’s time for your first lesson in being kept. Follow me to the kitchen. I have something special cooling on the stove, and you're going to finish every drop."

The heavy brass lock clicked shut with a finality that resonated deep in Colin’s chest. The weight of the collar felt different now—no longer just a piece of leather, but a permanent part of his silhouette.

Rob’s large hand remained on the collar, holding Colin in place. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, gleaming tag. He slid it onto the D-ring with a soft chime. He leaned in, his thick beard grazing Colin’s shoulder, his voice dropping to a low, possessive growl.

"From now on, the name you walked in with stays at the gas station," Rob whispered. "In this house, when I speak to you, you answer to 'Pudding.' That’s what you are to me now—something sweet, soft, and made to be enjoyed."

Colin felt a rush of heat bloom across his cheeks and down his smooth, heavy chest. The name was a perfect, humiliatingly sweet brand that matched the hairless, blubbery body he now inhabited.

"And the new rule?" Rob continued, his grip tightening slightly on the leather. "Pudding doesn't speak unless he's spoken to. Your job isn't to talk. It's to grow. Now, get to the kitchen. Use that new weight and move."

Colin turned, his soft thighs rubbing together with a rhythmic shish as he navigated the hallway. He felt the sway of his massive stomach, the way it led him into the room like a heavy, silent herald. Rob followed close behind, his boots heavy and rhythmic, a predator watching his prize.

In the kitchen, the air was thick with the scent of heavy cream, maple, and toasted pecans. On the large, rustic table sat a bowl that looked more like a serving basin, filled to the brim with a steaming, dense porridge laced with thick ribbons of butter and golden syrup.

Rob didn't tell him to sit. He pointed to a sturdy, oversized stool and stood over Colin as he settled his weight onto it, the wood groaning in protest.

"This is your first task, Pudding," Rob said, picking up a heavy silver spoon. He didn't hand it to Colin. Instead, he dipped it deep into the rich, calorie-dense mixture and brought it to Colin’s lips. "I told you I’d make sure you stayed satisfied. Open up. Let’s see how much more space we can make for that belly to grow."

The kitchen was silent save for the heavy, wet clicks of the silver spoon against the porcelain and the rhythmic, labored breathing of the man now known only as Pudding.

Every time Rob brought the spoon to his lips, Pudding leaned in with an eager, desperate submissiveness. The sugar and cream were like high-octane fuel for his new biology. As he swallowed, he could almost feel the "Gravity" in his veins reacting, pulling the nutrients straight to his midsection. His massive, hairless stomach seemed to tighten and then relax, expanding further over his lap with every mouthful, a slow-motion inflation that he watched with wide, glazed eyes.

"That’s it, Pudding," Rob murmured, his voice thick with a dark, paternal satisfaction. "Take it all. Every drop is another inch of softness for me to handle."

Rob was relentless. He didn't allow Pudding a moment to breathe between bites, reinforcing the rule of silence and consumption. He watched the way Pudding’s double chin wobbled with every swallow, and how the heavy mounds of his chest rose and fell in a frantic dance of pleasure and effort.

When the basin was finally scraped clean, Pudding sat back, or tried to. His belly was now so taut and immense that it pressed hard against the edge of the kitchen table, a vast, smooth globe of ivory skin that glowed in the firelight. He felt stuffed to the brim, his senses reeling from the sugar rush and the overwhelming presence of the man standing over him.

Rob set the spoon down with a definitive clink. He reached out, his large, rough hand splaying across the center of Pudding’s distended stomach. He pushed in slightly, feeling the incredible tension of the new weight.

"Look at you," Rob rumbled, his eyes dark with a predatory delight. "You're bursting at the seams, aren't you? So heavy, so helpless."

He grabbed the leather collar, his knuckles brushing against Pudding's soft, full throat, and tugged him upward. "The kitchen is done. Now, I want to see how that new heft feels in the lounge. I want to see you try to carry all that extra weight to the rug by the fire."

Pudding stood, his legs trembling under the sudden, massive increase in his displacement. He felt like a mountain made of liquid, every part of him swaying and dragging.

The Evening's Peak

As they reached the hearth, the firelight licked across Pudding's hairless form, highlighting every new fold and curve. Rob sat in a heavy leather armchair and gestured to the thick bearskin rug at his feet.

"Down," Rob commanded. "On your knees, Pudding. I want to see you settle. I want to feel just how much of this floor you can cover."

Pudding lowered himself, a task that required all his concentration. As his knees hit the rug, his stomach settled in front of him, a magnificent, heavy spill of soft mass that pooled onto the fur. He looked up at Rob, his eyes pleading and loyal, waiting for the massive, rough hands of his master to begin their true exploration of his new, vast landscape.

Pudding’s voice was thick, a honeyed murmur muffled by the new fullness of his throat. "Rob... I’m so heavy... I can’t move, I’m so full..."

The words had barely left his lips before Rob’s boot landed with a firm, silencing pressure against the plush, ivory curve of Pudding's thigh. It wasn't a kick, but a heavy, grounding reminder.

"What was the rule, Pudding?" Rob’s voice dropped to a dangerous, vibrating low. "Silence. Your body does the talking now. I didn't give you all that weight so you could complain about carrying it."

Pudding’s mouth snapped shut, a flush of submissive heat creeping from his collar down to the very depths of his swaying stomach. He lowered his head, his double chin pressing deep into his soft chest, acknowledging the master’s rebuke.

Rob reached onto the side table and picked up a small, dark wooden box. He flipped the latch, revealing a row of small, frosted glass jars and a brush made of soft badger hair.

"The 'Gravity' made you big. The meal made you heavy," Rob murmured, kneeling down on the rug so he towered over Pudding's sprawled, hairless form. "But this... this is what makes you mine."

He opened a jar, releasing a scent of peppermint, camphor, and something deep and musky. He dipped the brush into the shimmering, translucent balm and began to paint slow, deliberate strokes across the vast, tight expanse of Pudding's overfilled belly.

The Sensitivity Shift

• The Flash-Freeze: Everywhere the brush touched, Pudding felt a searing, icy chill that made his soft mass jump and ripple in involuntary waves.

• The Afterburn: A second later, the ice turned into a roaring, localized heat. The balm didn't just sit on the skin; it seemed to sink through the layers of blubber, lighting up every nerve ending like a flare.

• The Magnification: The sensation was so intense that even the air in the room felt like a rough tongue against Pudding’s skin. The weight of his own stomach resting on his thighs, which he had barely noticed before, now felt like a crushing, exquisite pressure.

Pudding’s breath came in ragged, silent gasps. He gripped the edges of the bearskin rug, his sausage-like fingers sinking into the fur as he fought the urge to cry out. He was a captive to his own nervous system, every inch of his massive, hairless body vibrating with a new, terrifyingly sharp awareness.

Rob watched the reaction with a dark, artistic pride. He set the brush aside and waited for the balm to fully take hold. Then, he leaned forward and, with a single finger, lightly traced a line from Pudding’s collar, down between the heavy mounds of his chest, and into the deep, hidden navel lost in the curves of his stomach.

Pudding let out a choked, silent sob of pure sensory overload. The light touch felt like a bolt of electricity arcing through his entire massive frame.

"There he is," Rob whispered, his rough beard brushing Pudding’s burning, sensitized ear. "Every touch feels like a mountain falling on you now, doesn't it? You’re so soft, Pudding. So sensitive. I could spend all night just watching you react to a single finger."

Rob’s hand hovered over the center of Pudding’s distended, heavy mass, his shadow looming large in the firelight.

The firelight danced over Pudding’s sensitized skin, turning his hairless, ivory frame into a landscape of flickering amber and deep shadow. Rob’s fingers were slow and methodical, moving like a sculptor over a masterpiece that wasn't quite finished.

He traced the heavy, rounded edges of Pudding’s chest, his rough fingertips catching on the taut, expanded skin. When he moved his hands lower, dipping them into the deep, heated folds where Pudding’s stomach met his hips, Pudding’s entire body gave a violent, silent jolt. The balm made the touch feel like a hot brand, yet the submissiveness rooted in his core made him crave the contact with an almost painful intensity.

"Look at how you react to me," Rob rumbled, his voice a low vibration that Pudding felt deep in his gut. "Every inch of this weight is a map of my influence. I expect you to remember that, even when I'm not touching you. I expect you to feel the heaviness of your own skin and think of my hand."

Rob shifted his gaze downward. Pudding’s underwear was a lost cause—the fabric was stretched to the absolute limit, the elastic groaning and cutting deep into the soft, overflowing plushness of his hips. It was a visual testament to just how much Pudding had outgrown his old life in a single evening.

"You're spilling out of these, Pudding," Rob teased, his voice dropping to a gravelly, playful whisper. He hooked a thumb into the straining waistband, pulling it just enough to let Pudding feel the cool air hit the skin that had been compressed and sweating beneath the fabric. "It’s tight, isn't it? A bit of a struggle to keep it all contained."

Pudding’s breathing was a series of rhythmic, heavy hitches. He looked up at Rob, his eyes glazed with a mixture of sensory overload and total devotion. He wanted to be rid of the fabric, to be completely exposed to the master’s gaze, but Rob clearly enjoyed the tension.

Rob leaned back slightly, still keeping his hand firmly anchored against the burning, soft mass of Pudding’s side.

"I think I'll leave them on for a little longer," Rob decided, a dark glint of mischief in his eyes. "I want you to feel every bit of that restriction. I want you to feel how your own body is trying to break free of who you used to be."

He reached for a small, silver tray on the hearth, where a row of heavy, ice-cold glass spheres sat. He picked one up, the frost still clinging to its surface, and held it inches away from the heated, balm-covered peak of Pudding’s stomach.

"Let's see how that heat likes a little ice, shall we?"

The moment the freezing glass sphere met the fire-hot, balm-coated surface of Pudding’s stomach, a low, guttural moan broke through his resolve for silence. The temperature shock was a physical explosion. His vast, soft midsection buckled and rippled in a slow-motion wave, the blubber jumping under the contact like live wire.

The sensation was almost too much to process—the internal pressure of the massive meal, the external heat of the balm, and now this pin-prick of absolute zero moving across his skin.

The Breaking Point

As Pudding’s body involuntarily tensed against the cold, the sheer displacement of his heavy thighs and bulging hips finally reached the breaking point. With a sharp, rhythmic ping-ping-ping, the stitching on his underwear gave way. The elastic snapped, and the fabric retreated, surrendering to the overwhelming mass it could no longer contain.

Pudding spilled forward, his heavy, hairless form settling onto the bearskin rug in its natural, unobstructed state. He felt the cool air of the cabin rush over his skin, providing a fleeting relief before the heat of the balm surged back.

"There he is," Rob rumbled, his voice full of dark, possessive pride. He set the sphere aside and leaned forward, his massive, hairy chest hovering just inches from Pudding's smooth, overfilled torso. "Fully exposed. No more barriers between you and the floor, or you and me."

The Claim

Rob reached down, his hands moving with a new, heavy-handed intensity. He didn't just trace the skin now; he dug his fingers deep into the soft, yielding mass of Pudding's sides, kneading the heavy blubber as if he were trying to memorize the weight of it.

"You're shaking, Pudding," Rob noted, his dominant gaze pinning the submissive man to the spot. "Is it the cold? The heat? Or is it just the fact that you know you're never going back to that thin, empty life?"

Pudding could only shake his head weakly, his double chin swaying with the movement. He was a captive of the pleasure and the weight, his body a heavy, vibrating monument to Rob's will. He felt the rough texture of Rob's beard as the master leaned down to kiss the very center of his burning, sensitive stomach—a final, humid seal on the night's transformation.

"You're a good sub," Rob whispered against the soft skin. "And because you've been so good, I think it's time we move this to the bedroom. I have a reinforced bed that's been waiting for a man of your specific... gravity."

… tbc

[alternative-ffa]

Oh you pretend sometimes...

Pretend you're not into being fat and indulging your appetite.

But you wanted a feeder. So, what did you expect?

I'm like a vampire: once you open your door to me... you're cursed. I'm going to be there, cooking for you, ordering for you, feeding you, stuffing you.

You can pretend all you want. But YOU opened the door, big boy.

You chose the right feeder. You sit on your recliner with your belly filling up your lap. You're huge to begin with... it just means we have more time to turn you into an amorphous blob of obesity.

You say you're hungry and want to order food. This is where I come in. I insist that we have food at home; we're not going to waste money. I prepare everything we have, and you eat. Once there is food in front of you, you can't stop. Even if you don't feel hungry... if it's there, you need to treasure the taste, succumb to all the positive sensations.

It doesn't take long for you to finish. You burp, proving to me that you're full.

Here comes the next step. I haven't eaten. I don't eat much, but I still need something. And, uh oh, you've eaten everything in the house. It looks like we're going to have to get a delivery order anyway.

I start ordering food. I could have done this when you first asked, but if I did, then... how would I get you to clean out the food already in the house?

I add things you love to the cart. We pretend I'm just getting food for me. But you know I can't eat all of it. You also know I'm ordering your favorites.

Once it's delivered. I have a couple bites, then there's the excuse of, "Oh, this won't reheat well. You should finish it so it doesn't go to waste."

And 100% of the time, you do exactly as you're told.

You can pretend all you want. But your actions tell me that you're a desperate feedee... constantly craving calories.

You'll be immobile by the time I'm done with you.

[heavy--feels]

Empty Calories (Commission)

Thank you so much to an anonymous contributor for this commission!

Would you like to commission me? Head over to my Ko-Fi page :)

TW: intox (alcohol and weed), manipulation, health issues, immobility, darker themes. Read with caution!

***

I didn’t realize it was going to end up like this.

I have always been into feedism. Ever since I remember, I dreamt about becoming fat; it had a thrill to me that was more familiar and intimate than the lure of sex. I would religiously observe people who gained weight; secretly stuff pillows under my shirts to see what I looked like – all the stuff that so many feedees experience ever since childhood.

It’s hard to commit to a fantasy like that when your choices aren’t entirely your own, though.

But that’s when college changed everything.

Of course, many people go apeshit in college. For so many of them, it’s their first time of being away from home and they feel like they can cut loose. There’s parties, alcohol, weed.

For me, it was the first opportunity to try feedism for real.

I don’t think it would have ended the way it did if it was a solo project. I would have eaten a bit more liberally, gained a couple pounds, passed it off back at home as Freshman 15, and gave up, scared of long-term consequences and judgment.

But instead, I had the (mis)fortune of meeting you. My future feeder.

It was literally my first party. Huge crowds at the frat house, and I barely knew anyone, so of course I drank a bit too much to give myself a little courage. But, having near to no experience with alcohol, I overdid it. I was just sitting by the pool table, having one beer after another, and the next thing I knew, I almost lost balance when I tried to stand up.

That was when I found myself leaning on someone’s strong arm.

The details of the night are a bit fuzzy. I remember suddenly finding myself outside with you, rambling drunkenly about something idiotic, and you listening with a gentle smile on your handsome face. You were two years older than me, and you knew how these types of parties went. And then you said something jokingly about gaining weight from drinking too much beer in freshman year… and I guess my brain wasn’t ready for how loose my tongue had become with booze.

“I – hic! – fucking hope,” I mumbled, poking at my own medium-sized middle.

“Sorry, what?” you asked politely.

“Hope that I – hic! – get fat. Like, proper fat. I fucking love fat. I want to be the-the fattest.”

In hindsight, it was really fortunate that it was you and not someone else who was forced to listen to my ranting. Anyone else would have shared with their friends how they accidentally met a freshman freak at that one party one time; but you smiled rather knowingly and said:

“If you want, I can help you make it happen.”

“Wait – hic! – really?”

“Yeah, really. And we can start with getting you another beer.”

“Wh-what for?”

“Empty calories.” You flashed me a grin. “Vodka will be an even better choice next time. For now, it’s probably a bit too much for you.”

“N-next time?” I asked uncertainly. My head was spinning, both from the booze and from the fact that someone turned out to be so receptive to my darkest secret.

“Of course. If you want to really get fat, you’ll need to be doing this on a regular basis.”

In a flash, you were back with another can, and you were explaining everything about alcohol and weed, and how they helped increase one’s appetite; about eating out late in the night and snacking; about adding sugar to everything and eating the most caloric options.

I really wasn’t entirely sure about all of this, especially the intox part. I was into eating a lot of food, not drinking a lot. But then again, you were so persuasive and you really explained the whole process very well. It would just make it easier to consume more calories, I reasoned. I hadn’t tried weed yet, but if it was true what they said about munchies… well, it was going to make it easier, too.

So I agreed.

I had no idea what it really entailed for me.

***

I was actually quite shocked how fast the first results came. I felt constantly bloated from the alcohol combined with late night fast food orders. My jeans stopped buttoning properly by the end of the month, and I switched to elastic. And then you introduced weed, and the munchies hit me really hard. I found myself ravenously shovelling full bags of chips into my mouth and still being hungry after.

Combined with my new sedentary lifestyle of a student, this radical change had radical consequences. It didn’t take long to start feeling heavy and generally fuzzy. The amount of numbing substances I was consuming sometimes meant that I barely felt fully sober – always either slightly drunk or high, or on my way to getting drunker or higher. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t noticing the changes too much… but they were happening.

My constant state of intoxication also meant not doing too well in college. I turned from a straight-A student to a B student in the span of two months, and it was only going to get worse. My brain was slowly losing the ability to retain information, and it was becoming solely focused on food and booze.

By the time Christmas rolled, I had a small paunch. I loved it so much, but I was barely able to appreciate the newfound fatness through the haze of intoxication. Were the circumstances any different, I’d be scared of reuniting with my family, but as it was, I barely cared.

My appearance raised some eyebrows in the family. “They’re feeding you well out there, aren’t they?” my dad commented, seeing my modest beer belly straining my sweater. My mother watched, horrified, as I inhaled the Christmas dinner, and asked for seconds, then thirds. But I didn’t care. All I wanted to do is to return to the campus, and to my newfound way of life.

I was sent away with some mild warnings and mentions of exercise. The first thing I did after coming back was to stuff myself with Chinese food as I smoked weed with you. I was so proud of myself: barely managed to confess my kink and I already had a feeder and a life of my dreams!

Well, and then around the time spring rolled, I started seeing the first cracks in the surface.

I officially reached the obesity threshold for my height. I was now visibly fat, with a sizeable beer belly and a double chin. My thighs rubbed as I walked, and I was starting to have a hard time bending over. My new weight combined with my utter lack of physical exercise meant that I was getting winded simply walking down the school corridor. As the weather grew warmer, it started to get embarrassing, with sweat pouring down my forehead and chubby cheeks. There was no mistaking it – I was now a stereotypical, certified fatty.

I didn’t go back home for the spring break. I cooked up a weak excuse about needing to study for exams. But the truth was, my mental fitness was deteriorating alongside my physical one. I couldn’t focus on lectures, constantly either in the state of mild intoxication or slightly hungover. All I could focus on, sitting in the lecture halls, was how the old flimsy chair was creaking slightly under my ass, or how my pants were struggling for dear life. It turned me on so much, and so the moment lecture ended, I would head back to my dorm room to stuff myself more.

I spent more and more time at your place. You had a lot of room, and a very large guest bed – something that I didn’t really question at the time, too spaced out to question anything. There, I would take edibles, stuff myself silly, and end up in a giggling fit when I couldn’t reach something over my belly.

And my belly was becoming more and more of a problem. Initially, it was a growing hard ball of fat, the typical beer belly – but over time, it started acquiring all that soft fat that I loved, hanging over the waistband of my pants, and forming double rolls when I sat down. It was starting to pool between my legs, and made everything more challenging, from standing up to walking to breathing, not even mentioning reaching for something on the floor. You bought me some grabby sticks that I could use and I started to slowly realize where my feedee path was leading me: to the world of reduced mobility.

By the end of my freshman year, I weighed 300 pounds. I was entering adulthood as an obese addicted glutton, and I was starting to realize it wouldn’t get better in the future. I couldn’t stop eating, drinking, and smoking if I tried. I typically consumed around 5000 calories per day, and often more, as I stopped even counting booze into that number.

I was testing out all the consequences of weight gain that I’d found so hot in stories I’d secretly read growing up. None of my clothes fit. I managed to upsize some of them, but I could barely ask my family for a whole new wardrobe expense. You, my feeder, were quite well-off, and you teased me more than once about buying me specialty clothes… something that I brushed off as a joke. But then later, I realized that the offer of new clothes was not a theoretical one; it was instead dependant on my behavior. If I stuffed myself even more, gave myself even stronger munchies, then maybe you’d consider getting me a new shirt.

For now though, you enjoyed watching me struggle.

I still remember that one class in May of my freshman year, one humiliation amongst many. I was quickly reaching 300 pounds, but wasn’t quite there yet. It was getting hotter. My t-shirt was damp with sweat, hugging my wobbly belly. I couldn’t even tell if it was covering its entirety, but probably not – I was developing quite an overhang these days.

I waddled into class, huffing and puffing with exertion, provoking stares that I had already somehow managed to get used to. I was always the topic of every gossipy conversation now, my ballooning figure on everyone’s lips, people barely recognizing my fat ass as I grew month after month.

I plopped myself on a chair in the back. By that time, I was firmly a C student who’d take every opportunity to escape the professors’ attention – even if it was becoming more and more challenging at my size.

Unfortunately, getting unnoticed was not to be my fate that day. As I sat, I heard a loud RIIIP and realized, mortified, that my pants had split. Panicking, I glanced around, only to notice a couple students giggling opposite me. I had no idea if they realized that I had just shredded my pants or if they actually thought I’d farted. I had no idea which would be worse.

I spent the entire lecture anxious about having to get up and waddle away with a large hole in my pants, and I waited until everyone was out of the classroom to painfully pull myself to my feet and waddle in the direction of the door.

Unfortunately, my humiliation was not over. The professor called out my name and asked me to stay after class.

Embarrassed, I stood there, in ripped pants, my belly hanging out of my shirt, and listened as she voiced her concerns. She was very worried about my skyrocketing academic performance. She didn’t want to pry, of course, but she had to ask: was everything okay in my personal life, or at home? Of course, it wasn’t her place to say, but she couldn’t help but notice…

“E-everything’s fine,” I mumbled. “I’ve just been so busy lately… and…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. My fried brain wouldn’t let me come up with a good excuse.

She gave me the last worried look and let me go. Humiliated, I turned and prayed that she didn’t look at my ass peeking out of my pants as I waddled away.

When I told you this story, you were absolutely delighted. You grabbed my chubby cheeks, jiggled my hefty belly, and said:

“Oh, you’re so gone now. Turned yourself into a total fatass. You just can’t help but be humiliated now.”

“I – I,” I stammered as they pushed a bong past my lips.

“We’re going to stuff you so much today. As a reward.”

I could only nod. I couldn’t help it; I was addicted to food, to drink, to weed, to the attention you gave me…

By the time the day was done, my belly was tight as a drum.

***

The results of the final exams came. It was official: I had failed. The old me would be terrified for my future and for my family’s reaction; but as it were, I was honestly almost relieved. I didn’t have to try and concentrate on my classes anymore; I could just eat, drink, and spend all my days with you. I didn’t even think about having to leave my dorm room.

So unsurprisingly, I was quite shocked when my addled brain finally put two and two together. I had nowhere to go, except home. I knew I couldn’t go home, it would be a disaster.

“Just move in with me,” you said, and at this point, I knew it was inevitable. The last alarm bells sounded in my brain, but I ignored them. I didn’t have a choice. I had already been set on a path that led to ballooning beyond my wildest dreams.

Soon, I realized what the rest of my life would actually look like. You convinced me to change my phone number, so that no one from my old life could contact me. You moved me into the bedroom with the enormous bed and from day one I realized that I won’t be leaving it much. I still remember my first morning in that bed: you brought me a mountain of pancakes for breakfast and fed me past my already quite strained limits.

And when I asked for soda or something to wash down that massive breakfast, you handed me a beer.

By the end of the summer holidays, I was up to 350 pounds. My world was now restricted to the four walls of your apartment, and consisted mostly of me gaping at a TV screen or playing video games, whenever I was sober enough to even be able to move a controller. I would be feeling much worse with this if I wasn’t high or drunk all the time. I would be alarmed that one morning when I realized that it took me five minutes to get out of bed. Or when my hips brushed the doorframe for the first time.

Instead, I kept drinking, smoking, and eating.

***

I huff, trying to adjust myself in my reinforced bed.

I don’t even budge. I sigh, taking a swing of vodka with my one hand, while with the other, I reach into a pack of chips. I eat them loudly, belching and wheezing between chomps, as the chips fall from my chubby hand. My fingers no longer close over things properly.

As I gorge, I look at the TV screen, but I don’t even register what’s playing, and I don’t care. I’m hungry. I finish my chips, belch, and call out to you for more.

If my life went a different way, I’d be finishing college now. Instead, I lie in this king-sized bed, spreading over the mattress, my mobility long forgotten, constantly drunk or high as I wait for you to bring me another meal, clean me, or change me. I am a mountain of fat, and I can’t stop getting even fatter. And you oblige me: you bring me alcohol, weed, and copious amounts of food. You care for me pretty well, all things considered. I have all the “toys” I need, including a cpap mask, a bariatric bed, and a walker – when I could still walk, of course. Lately, it’s been getting harder to lift my arms to constantly feed myself, so you have been tube-feeding me more and more. I often notice that you mix in alcohol into the sludge I consume. But I don’t mind. These days, it feels almost like water.

When I met you, I was young and impressionable, sure. But I could have turned back, right? I hadn’t been destined to become and immobile blob, and yet, here we are. So many steps of the way I could have stopped, and yet I didn’t. I think we both know why: I got addicted so fast, and not just to alcohol or drugs, but to the heady feel of gaining and getting worse on purpose.

Well. I got my wish.

[dangercocktail]

Gym Curse

Alex, freshly dumped and burning with humiliation, looked skeptically at the storefront door.  “Helpful Healing” ran in script across the burgundy awning.  He paused for a moment, looking furtively to the left and right, then as the flood of emotions overwhelmed his heart again, he pushed decidedly through the door.  Within several minutes and a couple hundred dollars later, a curse was purchased, performed, and targeted at his now ex-boyfriend Nick, and his obsession with physical fitness.

Weiterlesen

[mrbraindom]

New Hypno Game

I know you were waiting for me to make a new game for you to play. And today is the day when you can just drop into new experience. There will be triggers to just drop you deeper into reading and there will be nice hypnotic words , because I'm going to turn off your brain and make you feel really good and sexy. Find a safe place before you sink even deeper into trance and relaxation.

Okay? That's right. I think you should take a nice deep breath and continue reading my simple words , because the more you read the more relaxed yoy feel. And the more relaxed you feel the more obedient you get. Obedience is pleasure, right? Feel it and nod your head. That's right!

I want you to look at the spiral below. Look at the center of the spiral and let yourself feel everything you want to feel. Take as much time as you need to feel a certain feeling as you are hypnotised and happy and you want to just drop deeper and follow my simple words.

If you are feeling focused and ready to continue you can just drop deeper into reading. But if not... just go back to the spiral above again.

Okay, you are ready to go deeper. Look at this new spiral. Just drop deeper into pleasure , because you have no choice but obey my simple words and this nice spiral can make you feel even better. Look at this spiral for two minutes.

If you are feeling focused and ready to continue you can just drop deeper into reading. But if not... just go back to the spiral above again. The more you try to resist the more obedient you feel. Stare at the spiral one more time and you have to continue reading after that.

Okay, you are ready to go deeper. Look at this new spiral. Just drop deeper into pleasure , because you have no choice but obey my simple words and this nice spiral can make you feel even better. Yes, even DEEPER. Look at this spiral for two minutes too

And now I want you to feel more suggestible and obedient , because there is a new trigger for you to learn. Just drop deeper into trance and look at the spiral below. You cantake as much time as you need to install this trigger into your subconcious. I think you should look at this spiral for two minutes. Yes.

You are doing great! Now you can stare at the center of the last and the most powerful spiral. I think you should know that you don't know how to resist, because you can just drop deeper and deeper into pleasure and obedience and obey my simple words anytime. Look at spiral below. Now. You have to stare at this spiral for two minutes too.

You are doing great! It's so nice when you want to please me and obey, because obedience is pleasure. I think you should write a comment and tell me the most dirty fantasy you had inside your horny mind ever. It's going to be so nice! Also you have to thank me for this new experience in my dm :)

[epigstolary]

Signs

You know you’ve gotten fatter by the way your belly and chest and rump move when you try to jog now — resisting the pull of gravity just a moment longer than the rest of you at the apex of your stride, pulling down and bringing their excess weight to bear an instant after your foot touches back on the ground. It never used to do that when you were leaner and thinner and tighter all over. In a word, you jiggle now. And it’s obvious.

You know you’ve gotten fatter by the way your thighs get so warm from your belly resting on them for too long. This wasn’t a problem back when you had a lap — which I suppose you technically still do, but it’s so thoroughly buried by that sack of blubber hanging off your midsection that it doesn’t really count anymore. You have to lift that thick flab roll any time you want to let your thighs and fatpad cool off, and you notice that’s getting harder and harder to do by the day.

You know you’ve gotten fatter by the way you get out of breath by the end of your walk to the bus now. It’s not that far — a few dozen steps to the end of your street — but by the end of it, you’re having to work to get your breaths in and out, and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks and the perspiration beginning to seep out under your arm fat and down your back rolls. The hunger, too, is telling; the sugary treat you used to save for your first cup of coffee at work now disappears by the second stop, a sacrifice to the rumbling in your stomach that inevitably follows this briefest of workouts. The crumbs of sugar and pastry, and sometimes daubs of icing, trickle down over the rolls and belly filling your lap and spilling over into the necessarily empty seat next to you. None of your fellow riders are surprised to see them there.

You know you’ve gotten fatter when you go to stand up from your office chair, and the chair comes with you. You’d tried to ignore all the splitting seams, the periodic blowouts in your pants seat, the groaning chairs, the growing inertia of all the weight sloshing around on your rump. But ignoring it is no longer an option, not now that you have to squeeze yourself out from between the armrests of this XL roller. Your hips and ass may not be the widest part of you, but there’s no disguising the state you’re in now that they’re bigger around than even most beer bellies. You’re not gracefully squeezing past anyone on the way to the lunchroom — they’re getting out of your way, fast.

You know you’ve gotten fatter when clothes that can fully cover your body simply don’t exist anymore. When your thigh rolls bulge and sag out of the biggest pair of shorts you can find, tumbling over one another in a shapeless cascade past where your knees would be, if you could still point them out. When you have to cut the sleeves off of your 8XL tee to make room for your massive doughball arms and the sideboob rolls that hang over what’s left of the seam. When your belly hangs too low and wobbles too much with every minor movement to stay covered by your circus tent of an outfit. On the rare occasions when you still go out, you can’t help but put on a mutually unwanted show for everyone in the vicinity, who try with greater or lesser success to hide how horrified they are at the sight of your unmanageable obesity. Fortunately, there are plenty of chasers and feeders out there happy to fill in for you on the grocery or takeout run.

You know you’ve gotten fatter when you can’t even manage to shuffle into the shower without getting stuck. You always thought the shower seat you started using, once it became impossible to hold your shameful bulk up for the pathetically short duration of a shower, was going to be the failure point. Instead, it’s the cold, rigid stainless steel of the shower doorframe pinching the unreachable extremity of your belly on one side and the stacks of lard-filled back rolls on the other. You can already feel the burn in your leg muscles, underneath the shapeless lumps of fat disguising them as useable extremities, that tells you you’re rapidly reaching your limit for physical exertion. The same burning spreads to your overworked lungs, fighting against the weight of your blubber-packed tits to keep you breathing, as you struggle in vain to get yourself free. Good thing your feeder is there to extract you and bring you a couple dozen cookies to help you calm down.

You know you’ve gotten fatter when the slight pressure of your feeder’s touch against your blubbery chest is enough to make getting up from the couch impossible. You can still just throw your weight forward with enough force to tip forward onto your feet, pushing your hundreds of excess pounds up from a squat until you’re in a standing position. But not when he doesn’t want you to. It takes you so much effort, fighting against the flab smothering your body, that his halfhearted push is enough to send you rolling backward, out of breath and stuck in your divot on the couch. The perfect spot for him to caress your triple chins as he feeds you something greasy and fatty and soporific enough that you can’t even consider trying to get up again. You were probably too big to try it in the first place anyway, or so you try to convince yourself.

You know you’ve gotten fatter. You know you’re getting fatter. You know you’re never going to stop getting fatter. And you still have so much more growing to do.