i’ve been into this for as long as i can remember. started on the other side of it. feeding, encouraging, watching people grow. i loved all of it. i’ve helped people gain, even had a feedee put on 80 lbs.
so yeah, i thought i knew my role.
over the last few years i fell deep into the feeder to feedee pipeline. once it clicked, it really clicked. and after a certain feeder got her hands on me, it was over.
what started as “just trying it” turned into something a lot bigger.
now i’m 40 lbs up in the last 16 months and i’m not slowing down.
i’ve got big plans this year. apparently anything under 300 is unacceptable, so… we’ll see how far i go.
if you’ve been watching someone change and wondering what it feels like, you can ask me.
if you like tracking progress, numbers, and real growth, you’ll probably enjoy it here.
if you’ve ever thought about the feeder to feedee shift, i’m living it.
i also write weight gain stories. those will be showing up here too.
say hi. ask questions. or just tell me what caught your attention.
Cole watched the fasten seat beat sign lost in thought at how liking a singular post on Instagram had brought him to this moment.
He had flown all the way across the country, gained just over 50 lbs in the last 8 months and was completely head over heels obsessed with a girl that if he was being completely honest with himself. He barely knew.
Cole had been into feedism for as long as he could remember, always gravitating towards bigger girls, always pushing for a bit more food. He trolled the internet constantly for stories or updates and pictures. He even occasionally dabbled in some online encouragement of others, buying them food when he could.
Doing this late one night just under 8 months ago he had liked a comment on a before and after of a feedee he enjoyed. Nothing crazy.
Minutes later he had a follow request,
Opening the request Cole found himself staring at one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. A fitness influencer through and through and someone just genuinely blessed by genetics. He had drooled over her photos obviously thinking something was off. This girl was liking feedee content ?! She was messaging him? Unlikely.
Unfortunately for him, like the cat, curiosity got the better of him and he accepted the request.
PING
One new message.
*You look like my newest pig 🐷😘*
Her claws sunk deep into him in the following messages, he was glib and cocky at first and slowly dissolved into a curious and excited participant of Danielle’s desires.
She set up a video call almost right away which caught Cole completely off guard. Shock and then arousal flashed in tandem when Dani was indeed the hot gym rat from her photos. This was real, she was real and she did not dally in what she wanted.
He was up on a scale within minutes and not long after he was out driving to get fast food while she directed him on what to order. He didn’t finish all his food that day and Dani hung up telling him if he wanted another call next time he would do better.
Two days later a text popped in, Dani in a bikini posing in the mirror asking if he was hungry. He finished his food that day.
Thus the pattern continued, Dani constantly pushing but only on her time. Days would go by and then suddenly she was giving him a recipe for a weight gain shake and he was expected to make and film it for her RIGHT NOW. She’d push him in bursts, cake every night, eating on all fours, order all his meals for the day all the while teasing him with her body. She asked and he obeyed and then poof no answers for a week.
This only pushed Cole to try harder, more food, more shakes and more things to get even a drop of attention.
It took a little while for the weight in the beginning to start to stick but once it did Dani became like a rabid dog when the scale ticked up in short rabid bursts.
The day he had crossed 200 she made him get on the scale 6 times and stuffed him to within an inch of his life.
210 earned him his first topless photo and Dani texted him every day for a week. It took him 5 more lbs and a video of him finishing a 3500 calorie shake before he got the same level of attention.
At this point he was well and truly addicted, his mind addled, Dani and eating taking up 90% of his thinking power. He had remarked one night on the phone how much he wished he could see her, just eat for her in person one time. Every other time he’d mentioned it she would either brush it off or just giggle and say I know. This time she had gotten quiet then simply said. “Hit 235 and I’ll fly you out myself.”
The fasten seatbelt sign clicked off and Cole snapped back to the present. He stood viscerally aware of the significant pot belly spilling over his waistband and grabbed his bags heading to the front of the plane.
A short walk later and he was gliding down the escalator when he saw her, standing perfect in a yoga bottom and crop top, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Somehow she seemed even hotter in person, more real and more just an absurd dream come true.
Their eyes met and her face lit up with the most beautiful smile. That's when he noticed her holding a fast food bag, the bottom stained in grease in one hand and the other held a large shake or sundae.
“Hi pig!”
Heart thumping in his chest, “Hi Dani, I finally made it.”
Stepping forward, arms out ready to give her a hug. Danii’s hands shot out and pushed the bag and milkshake straight into his chest.
“No no pig, you finish this food before you even think about getting a hug. You are only here because of that number skyrocketing on your scale and it better keep going up.”
Cole took a large sip from the shake and looked around for a place to sit and eat his food.
“Good boy.”
Not wanting to disappoint Cole had finished his food quickly, gulping down the greasy burger and fries as Danii watched on in silent intensity. Her eyes burned into him as he pushed the last quarter of the burger into his mouth, cheeks bulging he chewed and she reached out and gently took his hand.
“I’m going to make you so fucking fat, now let’s go.”
The walk to the parking lot was filled with Danii excitedly talking about all the food places they were going to try, how much he was going to love Miami, the beach and just exuded an aura of glee and excitement.
The moment they got to her car the energy shifted to something slightly more serious. Unlocking her car and opening the back seat a scale materialized in her hands. Setting it on the ground she shifted to stand right behind him, pressing close. “Up you go piggy.”
Numbers flashed, shifted, finally settled on 237.1.
Cole felt Danii’s body press into his back and her hands snake around sliding up under his shirt, aggressively kneading the ball of fat he had built just for her. He felt her breathing speeding up as her nails dug into the bottom of his gut and she bounced his tummy in her hands. Hands slid up and cupped his chest and she snickered at how big he was getting.
“If that scale doesn't read two hundred and fifty fucking lbs before you go home I’m never talking to you again. Do you understand pig?”
Cole nodded and hoped for everything in his soul she would keep playing with his belly. She didn’t.
“Good, get in the car. There’s a weed gummy on the seat. Take it. I have food waiting at my house.”
Once Cole had sat down, buckled up and popped the gummy. Danii reached behind her into the back seat and snagged a jar of peanut butter and a coke. Placing it in his lap she put her phone on the console and typed in home.
35 minutes drive.
“That better be gone when we get there. Piggy needs his calories.”
The seal popped with a dull thwip as Cole twisted open the jar.
Peanut butter.
Not a spoon in sight.
He glanced over.
Dani didn’t even look at him, just smirked, eyes on the road.
“Don’t overthink it, pig.”
His fingers dipped in.
Thick. Sticky. Heavy.
He brought it to his mouth, sucking it clean, already feeling how dense it sat on his tongue coating his mouth and thick in his throat. The Coke hissed as he cracked it open, washing it down, the sweetness almost too sharp after the salt and fat.
Five minutes in, his stomach was already tight.
Ten minutes in, his fingers were coated to the knuckles and his jaw hurt from trying to unstick the peanut butter from the roof of his mouth.
Fifteen.
“You’re slowing down.” Her voice cut in, casual but sharp.
“I’m not,” he started, then immediately shoved two fingers deep into the jar, scooping more than he could comfortably manage.
“Good answer.” She glanced over now, quick and assessing. “Keep going.”
Cole swallowed thickly, forcing another mouthful down, his belly already pushing tight against his shirt, heavy and warm from the airport meal. The jar looked barely dented.
“How much more?” he whined again.
“All of it.”
No hesitation. No wiggle room.
“And the Coke.”
His grip tightened slightly around the jar.
Dani reached over suddenly, fingers pressing into the side of his stomach through his shirt, testing, squeezing.
“You’ve gotten so soft for me,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But not enough, not even close.”
Her hand lingered just a second longer than necessary, then pulled away like it meant nothing.
“Two-fifty isn’t a suggestion,” she added. “It’s the price of me not getting bored with you.”
The words sat heavier than the food.
Cole didn’t respond.
He just kept eating.
By the time they pulled into her driveway, the jar was empty.
Not very clean, but mostly empty.
The Coke was gone too, drained in desperate gulps between mouthfuls. His stomach felt massive now, stretched and rock hard under the blubber, every movement making it shift uncomfortably in his lap.
He barely registered the house at first.
Modern. Clean. Big.
Of course it was.
Dani killed the engine, then turned slowly in her seat to look at him properly for the first time since they left the airport.
Her eyes dropped immediately to his midsection.
“Jesus,” she exhaled softly, almost impressed.
Her hand came out again, slower this time, pressing into the dome of his belly, fingers spreading.
He flinched.
Not from pain, but from how full he already was.
“Already struggling?” she teased lightly, pushing just a little deeper.
Cole shook his head quickly. “No, I’m good.”
A pause.
Then a smile.
“Good,” she said. “Your real meal is inside.”
His stomach dropped.
Or tried to.
“Out,” she nodded toward the door.
Inside, the smell hit him first.
Sweet. Heavy. Warm. Savory.
The kitchen counter was covered.
Boxes. Bags. Containers. Drinks.
Desserts stacked next to takeout, drinks lined up like a display. It wasn’t accidental, it was intimidation, a promise.
Danii walked past him, completely at ease, already unpacking things, moving with purpose.
“Shoes off. Shirt off. I want to see what I paid for with my attention.”
Cole hesitated for half a second.
That was all it took.
She didn’t even turn around.
“Don’t make me repeat myself on day one.”
He kicked his shoes off immediately, hands going to the hem of his shirt, peeling it up and off.
Cool air hit his skin.
And suddenly he felt very aware.
The weight. The softness. The way his stomach hung now, even just slightly. How tight his shorts felt and how warm his gut was with 2500 calories of peanut butter wedged in. Of where he was, of what was going to happen to him. His body responded before his brain could and felt the pressure and arousal building in his pants until it almost hurt.
Danii turned back.
And stopped.
For a several seconds, she just looked at him.
Slowly.
Top to bottom eyes lingering on his crotch before pulling her top off. Just leggings now, her tits heavy and full demanding every ounce of his attention.
Then she walked closer.
“Turn.”
He did.
Her hand landed on his side, then his back, then forward again, exploring, evaluating, not gentle but not rough either.
“Fifty pounds,” she murmured. “And you carry it like this already.”
Her fingers hooked under the curve of his stomach, lifting it slightly, testing the weight.
Cole exhaled shakily.
She let it drop.
“Yeah,” she nodded to herself. “You’re going to blow up fast.”
She cupped his crotch and felt him stiffen with a wicked giggle. “God I love a pig who gets hard knowing how fat he’s going to get for mommy. Do you want to touch?”
Hand disappearing she cupped her tits and jiggled them slightly pinching a nipple, her face contorting in pleasure. The second he was about to answer.
She stepped back, clapping once.
“Alright pig,” she said brightly, like flipping a switch.
“Here’s how this works.”
She pointed to the counter.
“You eat. You don’t stop unless I tell you to. You are here to get fat. That is it, you want more from me? You earn it.”
Then she pointed to the living room.
“There’s a scale in there too. You will eat in there and we will be checking the scale again tonight.”
Her eyes locked onto his.
“And again in the morning.”
A beat. “And so on.”
“If I don’t see movement?” she tilted her head slightly.
A small smile.
“You get very boring, very fast and me being bored does not reflect well on him,” she gripped his cock suddenly with a painful squeeze. “Understand?”
“Y-yes Danii!”
She grabbed a plate, already piling food onto it.
“Two weeks,” she added casually, handing it to him.
“Two hundred fifty.”
Then, softer.
“Or you fly home and dream how you fucked up the hottest thing that will ever happen to you. I do not give second chances.”
The scale sat in the corner of the living room.
Waiting.
Cole could feel it before he even stepped on. His stomach was stretched tight, to the point of bursting. So heavy from everything she had put in front of him he was wobbling as he stumbled up to the scale, his breath coming in gasps as he tried to focus. It sloshed slightly when he moved, uncomfortable, his skin felt tight and on fire from how stretched he was.
Danii didn’t rush him.
She was on the couch, one leg tucked under her, scrolling through her phone like this was nothing. Like she hadn’t just force fed him he wanted to cry and then hoped off to the couch.
“Whenever you’re ready,” she said lightly, not looking up.
Cole stepped onto the scale.
238.4, almost 2 lbs of food in his stomach.
He looked up quickly, almost hopeful.
Dani glanced over.
A pause.
Then she went back to her phone.
“…okay,” she said.
That was it.
No smile. No interest. No movement toward him.
Cole blinked. “I… It’s higher than this morning.”
“Yeah.” Flat. Distant.
Silence stretched.
His stomach shifted, suddenly feeling heavier for the wrong reasons.
“I ate everything,” he added, a little too quick. “The jar, all the food, I—”
“I saw.”
Still not looking at him.
Another pause.
Then she sighed softly, like something mildly disappointing had just been confirmed.
“I thought you’d have been able to handle more is all.”
Cole stepped off the scale slowly. “It’s just the first night. I can—”
“Maybe.” She shrugged slightly. “Or maybe this is just your pace.”
She finally looked at him then, eyes drifting over his body, not lingering this time.
Assessing.
Detached.
“You look full,” she added. “Not stuffed to capacity.”
His chest tightened.
“I can eat more,” he said quickly.
That got a reaction.
Her eyes flicked back to his face. Not warm. Not impressed.
Interested.
“Why didn’t you eat more earlier?” she asked.
He froze.
She tilted her head slightly.
“Because if there was room in that tubby gut of yours,” she said calmly, “you don’t stop. Ever.”
Silence.
Cole swallowed.
“I just… don’t want to mess this up.”
Another pause.
Then, slowly, she set her phone down standing and walked toward him.
Her hand came up, pressing lightly into his stomach again. Testing the extent of his greed today.
He tensed under it.
“Then don’t,” she said simply.
Her fingers pushed a little deeper, grabbing a handful of the tight skin just above his love handles.
He exhaled.
Her hand dropped.
And just like that, the moment cooled again.
She stepped back.
“Kitchen,” she said, nodding behind him.
Cole didn’t move right away.
That half-second again.
“If you’re waiting for motivation,” she added, already picking her phone back up, “I’m not really into that.”
He turned toward the kitchen.The counter was still full. Still waiting. The plate she’d built earlier. Another one beside it now. Bigger now of course and he felt his entire body rebel at the thought of cramming more food into himself.
Behind him, her voice drifted out, casual, almost absent: “Let’s see if you can make yourself a little more interesting tonight….and Cole.” She waited until their eyes locked, she felt the tension radiating from him in waves as he eyed her then the plate of food. “I do not care if you’re in pain. I do not care if you’re full, or if you can’t breathe or if you think you’re going to throw up. You fucking eat every last thing I put in front of you. You are not here to feel good. You are here to make ME feel good. You are my pig and you are going to feel the consequences. You give me what I want, you’ll get attention. I will squeeze every last drop of greed out of you I can and I will love every second. This is not a vacation. This is me turning you into exactly what I want. If you speak the only words I want to hear come out of your mouth the rest of the night are: ‘More please mommy’. Anything else is a waste and you should be chewing. Am I clear…Pig.”
In a soft squeak barely above a whisper came, “I’m ready for more mommy.”
“That’s why I love you pig, you never disappoint. Don’t start.” She held out the plate and he sat down.
This is for the catalyst, the big nudge, the moment in time where my path forward shifted in a completely unexpected way.
I was skinny, I had abs, I was a feeder, I was active and I had no plans to EVER change that.
I don’t think I’m alone I’m just how unexpected the weight can creep up on us. The desperate need for more, the obsession that pushes past every screaming voice in our head, every flash of nausea and pain to cram MORE in that belly.
The washing feeling of inevitability as you lay on the couch or a chair and know that even if you wanted to you can’t take back the calories you just ate. You can’t help doing it again, the weight is already being added and every time the scale ticks up the reality that you’ll never have the force of will to get rid of it even if you wanted.
You don’t. You just want more so bad and that feeling scares you. Every piggy takes that fear and turns it into hunger. For me it’s not hunger for food, it’s hunger for the softness.
this didn’t just happen to me, it was obviously lurking under in the dark waiting to come out in my brain but my feeder.
she made it happen. She forced it to the surface and has been almost solely responsible for the gut I currently own.
she hit my dms like a hurricane. no hesitation. no softness. just heat, pressure, and a plan.
this is what you’re going to do.
this is how it’s going to go.
and i listened.
more food.
more pressure.
more expectations.
i tried to slow it down at first.
i faltered.
she got busy but it never went away, it never stops and as the mouths creeped by, the habits got worse and the weight started to truly snowball.
the weight, the habits, the way it sits in my head now…
eat. eat. eat.
get attention. eat more.
it’s not something i think about anymore.
it’s just there. She did that and I know so so so many piggies can relate to exactly the same thing. Shoutout to every feeder who’s changed the chemistry of us who never knew our destiny was to be fat. I’m so glad I found mine and I can’t wait for more.
i feel so deep in it now. I know I can never leave. This is my Hotel California. It didn’t just happen, it was decided for me. I couldn’t be happier, more obsessed and more greedy to do more.
she decided i was a fat boy in waiting and i couldn’t help following. Here’s to more!
