The day it happened, Joe’s boss had sent him to a course on data protection, a truly boring subject; and so he sat at a table at the back, determined to doze his way through it all. He had been directed to a huge conference hall at the back of a large hotel in the city. The room must have been set out for about 200 people. He was a little early and the only one there; so he played on his phone and waited for the others to arrive.
The noise of an excited babble of people became louder and louder when all of a sudden, a huge crowd of men burst into the room. They scrambled and nudged each other to get to the tables at the front and filled up the entire room within 30 seconds, each with their eyes firmly fixed to the front of the room where a stage with a power point was prepared.
Looking around, all of the men were incredibly attractive and you could have been forgiven for thinking you were at a modelling convention. All of them grinning and seemingly over excited for what Joe expected to be a very dull two hours ahead.
Without delay, another man walked in through the double doors slowly and authoritatively, looking straight ahead towards the stage and not making eye contact with any of the other attractive men in the room. He was certainly the most attractive of all. He was taller than anyone else in the room and broad with chiselled features and perfect blonde hair. In fact, he was probably the most attractive guy Joe had ever seen. He wore dress pants that showed off a perfect irresistible ass and his tight shirt left Joe in no doubt of the fine physique underneath. Joe was pretty sure he was in the wrong conference room now but had no intention of leaving. As the man walked to the front, the other men in the room clapped and cheered like he was a rock star, all of them seemingly desperately in love with him. It was at this point that Joe noticed one of the other highly attractive men excitedly lock the only door out of the window-less room before turning back to clap and cheer at the man now stood on the stage.
• 1 ripe avocado (for extra creaminess and healthy fats)
• Handful of almonds or walnuts (~30g)
• Optional add-ins for extra extremes:
• 2–3 raw eggs or egg whites (if you tolerate them)
• 2 tbsp cocoa powder or chocolate syrup
• A scoop of Greek yogurt or heavy whipping cream
• Frozen berries for flavor without much volume
Instructions
1. Blend the oats into a fine powder first (this prevents grittiness).
2. Add the milk, protein powder, peanut butter, bananas, avocado, honey, oil, and nuts. Blend on high until smooth.
3. Add the ice cream last and pulse blend to keep it thick and creamy (don’t over-blend if you like chunks).
4. Pour into a massive shaker or bowl. It’ll be like a thick milkshake — eat with a spoon if it’s too dense!
Pro tip: Chill everything beforehand and use a high-powered blender (like a Vitamix) to handle the volume. This makes about 1.5–2 liters of shake.
Approximate Macros & Calories Breakdown
• Milk (1L whole): ~600–650 cal
• Protein powder (4 scoops): ~400–600 cal
• Peanut butter (200g): ~1,200 cal
• Bananas (4): ~400–450 cal
• Oats (100g): ~380 cal
• Ice cream (500ml): ~500–600 cal
• Honey/oil/avocado/nuts: 400–600+ cal
Total: Easily 2,000–2,500+ calories. You can tweak portions up or down. 
Warnings & Advice
This is extreme — don’t chug these daily without a plan. Pair with strength training to gain muscle, not just fat. Stay hydrated, monitor how your body feels, and consult a doctor or nutritionist if you have any health conditions (e.g., dairy intolerance, high cholesterol). Start smaller if a full batch feels overwhelming.
Flavor variations: Swap bananas for strawberries, add Nutella instead of plain PB, or go chocolate overload with extra cocoa. Enjoy the gains! 💪
The dorm room at Riverdale University was a cluttered haven of textbooks, empty energy drink cans, and the low pulse of lo-fi music from a laptop. Late November’s chill lingered outside, but the radiator made the small space stifling. Noah, a lean biology major with dark curls and a tendency to overthink, sprawled on his bed, half-reading notes. Lucas, his blond, broad-shouldered kinesiology-major roommate, lounged across from him, exuding easy confidence. Their friendship, over a year strong, was a rhythm of shared meals, late-night laughs, and pranks. But tonight, fueled by exam stress and a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka Lucas had smuggled in, the air crackled with tension.
“Dude, you ever wonder what it’d be like to just… let loose?” Lucas’s voice cut through the music, low and teasing, blue eyes glinting.
Noah glanced up, brow furrowed. “What?”
Lucas leaned back, hands behind his head, T-shirt riding up to reveal toned abs. “Something wild. No consequences. Just feels good.”
Noah’s cheeks warmed, but he played it cool. “Like stealing the mascot costume again?”
Lucas’s laugh was warm, his gaze intense. “Nah. Something real. Something… raw.”
The vodka loosened their tongues, spiraling the conversation into crushes, fantasies, secrets. The room shrank, the space between them electric. Lucas’s knee brushed Noah’s on the narrow bed, and neither pulled away. Lucas’s hand found Noah’s thigh, igniting a spark that burned away hesitation. Noah’s breath hitched as Lucas leaned in, their lips crashing in a hungry, vodka-fueled kiss.
Clothes hit the floor in a frenzy. Lucas’s hands roamed Noah’s lean frame, rough and sure, guiding him onto the bed. Noah’s heart pounded as Lucas’s cock, hard and thick, pressed against him. Lucas took control, lips trailing down Noah’s neck, hands spreading his thighs. Noah moaned as Lucas’s fingers teased his ass, slick with spit, preparing him. The first thrust was slow, Lucas’s cock filling him, stretching him, the sensation raw and electric. Noah clutched the sheets, body arching, every nerve alive as Lucas moved faster, deeper, their breaths syncing in a primal rhythm. When Lucas came, his cum hot and pulsing inside Noah, it triggered Noah’s release, spilling across his stomach. They collapsed, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, Lucas’s grin lazy and satisfied.
As Noah caught his breath, a strange warmth spread through his core—not just the afterglow, but a deep, visceral pressure in his gut. He brushed it off as nerves or vodka, but something felt different.
The next morning, Noah woke with a throbbing head and shuffled to the bathroom. His reflection stopped him cold: his face was softer, cheeks fuller, jawline blurred. The scale read 175 pounds, up from his usual 160. “What the fuck?” he muttered, trying again. Same number. His jeans dug into his hips, denim snug across his thighs, T-shirt clinging to a soft curve at his stomach. Panic surged. He’d been meticulous—lean proteins, veggies, no binges. Fifteen pounds overnight was impossible.
Lucas was out for his morning run, so Noah headed to class alone, hyper-aware of his heavier steps, thighs brushing together. At the dining hall, his appetite was feral. He piled his tray with pizza, fries, and a milkshake, devouring it all, the gut pressure easing into euphoric fullness. That night, Lucas returned, sweaty and radiant. “You good?” he asked, noticing Noah’s unease.
Lucas smirked, skeptical. “You look fine, man. Stress, probably.” But when Lucas’s hand grazed Noah’s arm, that electric heat flared, and Noah’s resolve crumbled. They were kissing before he could think, Lucas tugging off Noah’s too-tight shirt, revealing his softened belly. Noah dropped to his knees, eager, sucking Lucas’s cock with a hunger that surprised them both. Lucas groaned, fingers in Noah’s curls, guiding him until he came, his cum flooding Noah’s mouth, thick and warm. Noah swallowed, the act addictive, the warmth spreading again. They moved to the bed, Lucas fucking him hard, each thrust driving Noah wild, his body craving more even as the gut pressure grew. When it was over, Noah felt heavier, sated but unsettled.
The scale read 190 the next morning.
Over the next week, Noah’s life unraveled. Each encounter with Lucas—frantic, cock-driven nights—left him heavier. By week’s end, he was 220 pounds. His jeans wouldn’t button; sweatpants strained at the seams. His shirts stretched tight across his chest, his once-flat stomach now a soft, jiggly belly. His face was puffy, a double chin forming. Walking to class was exhausting; his thighs chafed, and he was breathless after one flight of stairs. Lecture hall desks pinched his hips, and he caught classmates’ whispers in the dining hall. His biology professor, Dr. Hensley, asked if he was “feeling okay.” Noah mumbled excuses—stress, medication—but he knew the truth: Lucas’s cum was doing this, some impossible, hyper-fattening magic. The thought was absurd, but the evidence was undeniable.
Worse, Noah craved it. The rational part of him screamed to stop, to lose the weight, to figure out why this was happening. He tried cutting calories, hitting the gym, but nothing worked. The weight clung, and the hunger for Lucas grew. Every kiss, every suck, every thrust fed an addiction he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just physical—Lucas’s touch made him feel alive, desired, whole. Each night, Noah would beg for more, Lucas’s cock filling his mouth or ass, the cum triggering that warm, heavy rush that left him both sated and ravenous.
By early December, Noah was 280 pounds. His daily life was unrecognizable. Getting out of bed took effort, his mattress creaking under his bulk. Showering was a chore; the dorm’s narrow stall felt claustrophobic, his belly brushing the walls. He avoided social events, dreading stares, and skipped classes when he could, hiding in the dorm with delivery pizza and Netflix. Lucas, still fit and unaffected, seemed oblivious to the cause but noticed Noah’s changes. “You’re looking… cozy,” he teased one night, poking Noah’s belly playfully. Noah flushed, torn between embarrassment and a thrill at the attention.
Their encounters grew more intense. One night, Lucas pinned Noah to the bed, his hands gripping Noah’s softened hips, cock teasing his ass before thrusting deep. Noah moaned, his belly jiggling with each movement, the sensation heightened by his growing bulk. Lucas’s cum filled him, the warmth spreading faster, more intense, as Noah came hard, his own cock trapped against his heavy stomach. The addiction deepened, Noah begging for Lucas’s cum nightly, swallowing it or taking it inside, each load pushing his weight higher.
Christmas break loomed, and Noah dreaded it. At 300 pounds, he was returning home, where his family would see his transformation. More terrifying was three weeks without Lucas—a dry spell that could break him. The night before he left, they fucked with desperate intensity. Lucas’s cock drove into Noah’s ass, his hands gripping Noah’s thick thighs, cum flooding him as Noah trembled, the warmth overwhelming. The next morning, the scale confirmed 300 pounds. Noah barely recognized himself: his face round, neck swallowed by rolls, belly a massive dome hanging over his waistband, thighs wobbly. Packing was a nightmare; he resorted to oversized hoodies and stretchy joggers from a big-and-tall store.
At home, his family’s shock was palpable. His mom suggested doctors and diets, his dad made awkward jokes about “college weight.” Noah retreated to his bedroom, binging on holiday treats—cookies, pies, lasagna—to dull the gnawing ache for Lucas. The cravings were relentless, food a poor substitute. He texted Lucas constantly, each flirty reply fueling his need. By the end of the break, he’d gained another 30 pounds, hitting 330. His childhood bed groaned, and he avoided family photos, ashamed of how his body spilled over chairs.
The night before returning to Riverdale, Noah lay awake, consumed by thoughts of Lucas’s cock, his cum, the rush. He texted Lucas, fingers trembling: *Miss you. Need you.* Lucas’s reply was instant: *Same, man. Dorm’s too quiet.*
Back at Riverdale, Noah’s cravings exploded. Seeing Lucas, lean and grinning, ignited a feral need. They barely spoke before Noah was on his knees, sucking Lucas’s cock with desperate hunger, swallowing every drop of cum. Lucas fucked him after, Noah’s massive belly pressed against the bed, each thrust sending ripples through his flesh. The scale read 350 pounds the next morning. Noah’s body felt foreign yet thrilling, his addiction stronger than ever.
By February, Noah was 400 pounds. Daily life was a struggle. Walking across campus was a marathon, his breath short, sweat beading. He switched to online classes, unable to fit in lecture hall seats. His dorm bed sagged, and he’d broken a dining hall chair, the humiliation burning. Eating became a ritual—pizzas, burgers, gallons of ice cream—to chase the high Lucas’s cum provided. Their sex was relentless: Lucas’s cock in Noah’s mouth, cum coating his throat, or deep in his ass, each load adding pounds. Noah’s belly grew massive, his thighs thick, his arms heavy with fat.
Lucas remained attentive, his hands lingering on Noah’s softened body, teasing, “You’re all mine.” Noah tried once to stop, skipping a night with Lucas to diet, but the withdrawal—shakes, sweats, a clawing hunger—was unbearable. By midnight, he was begging, tears in his eyes, Lucas’s cock filling him as the warmth returned.
The conflict tore at Noah. He’d stare at old photos, his lean frame a memory, vowing to stop. But the addiction was stronger. Lucas’s cum was his drug, each load a hit that made the weight feel… right. He stopped going to the gym, stopped checking the scale, stopped caring about stares. All that mattered was Lucas’s touch, the cum, the rush.
By April, Noah hit 500 pounds. He was barely mobile, his days spent in the dorm, propped on pillows, surrounded by takeout containers. His belly dominated, a heavy mass spilling across his lap, making tasks like tying shoes impossible. His face was buried in rolls, his chest heavy. Getting up took minutes, each movement laborious. Lucas helped, bringing food, adjusting pillows, his affection unwavering. But Noah saw worry in his eyes, a flicker of guilt they didn’t address.
Their sex adapted to Noah’s size. Lucas would climb over his bulk, cock sliding into Noah’s mouth or ass, the act slower but no less intense. Noah craved every drop, the warmth fueling his surrender. He’d given up fighting, the addiction his world.
By May, Noah was immobile at nearly 600 pounds. The dorm bed was reinforced, paid for by Lucas’s job earnings. Noah’s body was a landscape of rolls, his belly pinning him in place. He relied on Lucas for everything—food, water, hygiene. The addiction had won. Each encounter added pounds, Lucas’s cum a constant craving. Lucas stayed, loyal despite the strain, bringing trays of food, sitting for hours, their connection deeper yet heavier.
Noah’s life shrank to the dorm. He dropped out of in-person classes, grades slipping, friends gone, family calls dodged. But surrender brought peace. He’d fought and lost. This was who he was—immobile, dependent, consumed by want. As Lucas’s hand rested on his massive side, Noah knew he’d never go back.
