Bigger is better

32 yr old Feedee/Gainer CW: 185 GW:400 Feel free to message

[thefitwitch]

I wrote this to one of my favorite piggies but I think this applies to all you tubsters eagerly waiting my next fattening post that you can eat yourself into a stupor to...

So anyway, enjoy the promises I make to my ever expanding hogs...

I promise you'll be my fat little bitch boy, eating food off the top of the massive gut that forces your enormously lardy legs apart and droops between them onto the bed.

I promise your pathetic, nonexistent cock will be suffocating inside your fupa buried behind your thick slab of belly fat, relentlessly leaking as you feel the pressure build as you swell with more food, making your entire gut tingle with every touch.

I promise you'll want your whole body so encased in soft, thick, lard that every movement, every quake and ripple, everything reminds you what you did for me, everything reminds you that you're my piggy bitch and it'll only make you want to keep eating and pleasing me.

I promise you'll cum from belly touching alone because you've lost all other options and you'll only ever want to loose it even further so you'll eat even faster just to feel your body pile on more lard in real-time.

Now go have the most fattening weekend youve ever fucking had, okay? God it would be SO hot if you put on like 4-5lbs

[r0lls-deactivated20250215]

you’re easily at 250 lbs now..( probably closer to 300, if we’re being honest.)

you spent your entire life working out and worrying about your physique.. in less than two years all of your hard work and commitment has completely disappeared. the only thing you have determination for nowadays is to finish the food in front of you so you can move on to what you’re going to consume for me next.

you’re completely unrecognizable from the person you were when we met. i’ve watched you outgrow “new clothes”— going on three cycles now of you having to increase your sizes on everything. luckily i don’t mind wearing the cute boy-stuff you don’t fit in anymore, you always had good style.

most days start the same as they have since we met: you down a wg shake (sometimes two, depending on my mood) while i make breakfast for you. (you have to consume close to 8000 calories a day just to feel full anymore.) you spend every day in an aroused, caloric-filled stupor. constantly half-erect at just how overweight you’ve really gotten in such a short time.

all day while you work from home, you continue to eat snacks and mindlessly indulge. while i work out, pick up groceries and bake for you in my spare time away from work. my social life is still active and thriving, but you’ve chosen lately to stay inside, lazing and snacking away. (i don’t mind, i know that’s where you belong. ) our friends have stopped asking about you joining us, i think everyone is finally starting to realize you just aren’t as active as you used to be. you’re so much happier at home, glutted into a food-coma, aren’t you?

when i come home at night after my shift at work, you’ve already eaten one, maybe two portions of dinner for yourself (most nights i show up with mcdonald’s or del taco as a midnight snack.. you never say no. how could you resist eating WITH me?)

you end most of your nights exactly how you did when we first started this dynamic.. swollen & engorged from stuffing your face with empty calories all day. barely getting up from your spot on the couch (you outgrew your desk chair months ago it seems.. so you do all of your computer-work from the couch now)

after the last one of your countless dinners —followed by whatever dessert i’ve whipped up just for that night— i finally allow you to waddle to the bedroom and pour yourself into our bed (is it just me, or was there more room for cuddling when we first started?) you’ve gained so much at this point, the mattress frame groans and creaks as you make your way on top of it.

it doesn’t take long for you to fall into a deep sleep, attributed to the sheer number of calories you’ve consumed for me. (you barely have the energy for sex anymore, but i make sure to take care of you regardless) afterwards, caressing your over-fed gut with both hands. i’m still in shock at the immense heft and weight from it. it still leaves me completely in awe that under 2 years ago when we met you still had defined abs i could touch, now the only definition you have is the growing amount of fat you have spilling over your waistband .

i think you’ve drifted off when you ask “are you still attracted to me? i could always start working out again. it wouldn’t take too long to bounce back into shape.”

i kiss you and rub your massive gut (how does it look even bigger today?) assuring you that i’ll always be attracted to you, just how you are. don’t worry about starting to work out again, there’s always.. tomorrow ♡

[superchubsoon]

I feel ✨seen✨

[evermore-xxl]

relationship weight

[x]

[fatterbiggersofter]

Too Big

Let me dispel this silly idea that you're getting "too big".

You can never be too big.

Sure, you can get too big for your favorite shirt. You can get too big for your once-loosest sweatpants. You can ware holes in your jeans and rip the seams of all your underwear. Nothing you own can fit anymore.

But there's always a bigger size, so you're not too big.

You can get too big to fit between armrests. You might spill over the seats of certain chairs. You may crack the frame of your couch and hear worrying creaks coming from your bed frame.

But there's always something lower, sturdier and wider that you can splay across, so you're not too big.

You can get too big for you car. You might push the seat back as far as it can go and find your belly is still pressing on the wheel. You may struggle to push your overflowing sides out of the way enough to buckle your seatbelt. The suspension might strain to one side as you plop into your seat.

But there's always the whole backseat for you to grow into when I'm driving, so you're not too big.

You can get too big to climb a whole flight of stairs. You might have to take a break after every few. You can get out of breath walking from your car to the store. Your balance might not be what it used to be. You might realize you're panting and breathless from how full you are after a big meal. You can feel your sides brushing the doorframes as you make your way wobbling from room to room at home.

But there's always the option of staying nice and comfy and relaxed on your bed, so you're not too big.

You can get too big to reach down and tie your shoes. You might need the occasional hand getting up after you've eaten. You've can have a few folds and rolls that you aren't able to scrub down without some help. You might need to ask to be rolled onto your side when you're too heavy and full to maneuver yourself.

But I'm always here to help you, aren't I?

So go ahead. Grow until nothing fits you. And you don't fit into anything. Move less. Depend on me more.

You'll never be too big for me.

[weedistfeedist]

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Let's smoke some weed

So we eat a dozen donuts-or a few

[skipperafterdark]

as far as I’m concerned body fat is THEE stim material of all time and I’m done pretending it isn’t. it’s ALWAYS warm, soft, and inviting. idk abt yall but I love resistance & pressure, so the weight of fat/fat body parts is glorious. there’s just so many ways to stim

cupping a boob in your hand. just hold it. let the weight of it fill your palm

idly bouncing a boob against your fingers

bouncing a belly hang against your palm

laying back and finding the center of the belly and pressing intermittently. bwomp bwomp bwomp. look at that ripple

rubbing back and forth along the bottom of an overhang, noting how the bottom of the belly is soft in a different way from the top (bonus points for dimpled overhangs, W bellies, stretchmarks, cellulite)

curling your fingers around a roll. squeezing, massaging, holding

using a roll to shake a whole belly

framing a belly with both hands and squeezing, squishing, bouncing

wobbling a wide, jiggly thigh

placing ur fingers underneath a shelf of an ass and bouncing. one cheek, both cheeks, who gaf

tracing the curve of plump cheeks, double chins, soft necks with a knuckle or the pads of your fingers

splaying your hand across any wide, soft body part (belly, sides, thighs, ass) and just. feeling. rocking the palm back and forth, pressing fingertips against the surface. soaking up the warmth and comfort

running your hand up and down a whole fat torso, chest to hips, memorizing the landscape of rolls and swells and stretch marks and cellulite

finding clusters of older stretchmarks, noting the different textures between it and unmarked skin

and we absolutely CANNOT forget the ultimate simple pleasure of rubbing biiig slow circles all around the circumference of a sweet round tummy

[ihatemakingusernames]

I want you to *feel* heavier.

I want you to constantly feel that you're taking up space. You know, that feeling where your brain hasn't quite adjusted to your new size; where you find yourself bumping into furniture or doorways... that you could swear were wider just two days ago. I want you to start noticing that your kitchen counter seems higher than it did before... Or maybe, your gut finally hangs so low that it kisses the countertop when you're looking for a snack. I want you to wonder why all of your clothes suddenly seem to have shrunk in the wash. After all, the nice pair of jeans you just bought must be poor quality... The button flew off the second you sat down, but it's not like you've been eating enough to stuff a stoned linebacker, right?

You haven't been eating much at all, have you? Some avocado toast for breakfast... Followed by two mcgriddles and a huge iced coffee. A salad for lunch... accompanied by a triple decker burger and a massive basket of cheese fries. And dinner, since you ate so healthy and light during the day, you treat yourself to a pizza... Or two... Or three. And fuck it, why not some ice cream too? You've been good, you deserve a treat, don't you? You couldn't possibly have outgrown your clothes eating like that. That's crazy!

But yes, I want you to feel heavier.

Not only in the sense that I can fit my entire head beneath your massive tit, but in the sense that you can *feel* yourself growing... Stretching... Spreading wider. You can feel your supple, cellulite dimpled flesh getting softer, bathing you in a cozy blanket of lard. I want you to feel weighed down by your body, to question why you should ever have to get off the couch... To ever have to do anything beside eating and getting fatter.

Yes baby, I want you to feel heavier.

I want you to grow. Grow for me.

[jiggletums]

This is not a drill🍔🍔🍔

[feedee-fat-cow]

I love getting frighteningly big. Gaining worrisome amounts of weight and concerning everyone around me when I'm bigger than when they saw me the week before. My friends are asking if everything is okay, that I've been getting a little...heavy since I started dating my new boyfriend. And all I can say is "he takes real good care of me" so that they don't think I'm in a bad relationship. The truth is, I've never been happier in a relationship. Even when my limbs swell from fluid retention and I can barely take care of myself without a caretaker, I'm happy. Even when I break the couch at my parents' house during Thanksgiving, making them wonder when I ever put on all of this weight, I'm happy. Even when I am unable to move from my bed, my lard encased organs giving up one by one, I'm so fucking happy. Make me scarily big, it'll make me happy <333

[teatimezz]

Awww is the piggy overeating to the point of exhaustion again? Don’t you know eating a calorie surplus makes you fat? If you keep eating like that you might hit a stage above morbidly obese at which I didn’t even know existed! It’s already hard enough shopping for your clothes let alone replacing them only after a month cause that roomy 2XL shirt is now a crop top at best. If you raise your arms above your head you literally will put me at risk of getting flashed by how much you’ve outgrown each top. I don’t even think you have any attire that isn’t under the constant threat of snapping. I don’t even know what overflows more now that muffin top over your jeans or fupa over your underwear. Keep this up and you’ll be bed bound with no clothes to fit you in the world. Too bad you are definitely not gonna listen to anything I just told you and keep mindlessly consuming like the barn animal you are 🐖

[jellyfilledjock]

I love the soft fat rolls developing on your sides and how deep your belly button is getting 😍 I just want to stuff your face full of donuts 🍩

Thank you so much! And I wouldn't mind my face stuffed with donuts!

[potentialfatty]

Denial

Imagining a feeder who actively makes sure you don’t realize you’ve gotten massively fat. They size up your clothes without you ever noticing, never make comments about how big you are but how small you are. Lying about how there should be faster results, telling you that you should eat more followed by a painful stuffing. When you scroll places like tumblr admiring fellow gainers, seeing how big some people have made themselves, you start to realize how you look bigger than them. Your gut hangs lower, your thighs explode out of any pants and stretch marks cover your bugling belly. You tell your feeder this and they say how people always look smaller online, that you still have a long way to go to be as big as the fatties you once dreamt of becoming. All the while knowing that they had made you far bigger long ago and the only way to keep you going is to get you to a point where turning back is no longer an option.

[heavilyweighted]

have a soft spot for fat bois in denial of their chaotic caloric spiral, totally unaware that their eating has any consequence on their appearance and mobility. Every 12 course meal a "light snack." Every swallowed fruit a completed goal that earns an entire sheet cake. Hasn't "gained in years" ~

[oharahotelofhedonism]

Trust me, I will ensure you get as fat as you're aiming to get. Then we'll make sure you get even fatter than that. I want to hear that you packed yourself to the brim. That you lazed around all day. That you did nothing but graze on food mindlessly. That you fell victim to your curiosity and made that decision to be unapologetically fat and eat a stick of butter or chug some cream.

I'll ensure you become massively, unrecognizably, problematically obese...

[jellyfilledjock]

Starting to grow some boobies

[usernolongeronline-deactivated2]

Lemme hold your face as I push a whole donut into your mouth✨

[poptartprncss-blog]

The sweetest words ever spoken! Make sure it’s well glazed

[feederismissues-deactivated2019]

This times 12 plz😍

[brendakthedonutgirl]

UNF

[fatlifeshortlife]

Dehumanized.

Locked away, bound, hidden from the rest of the world. Body restrained first by rope or chain, then something new. Fed, fattened, forcefully overfilled at every opportunity. A timer, a pump, a hose pushed down your throat, bypassing any attempt you make to stop. Every few hours, filled, like an industrial process, ensuring your stomach is at its limits. Continuing until you are gone - swallowed, smothered, suffocated, by enough lard that whoever you were is a minor detail to the mountain of malleable wobbling flesh you’ve become. Your basic autonomy is denied, left to be handled by your keeper. Any attempt to struggle, meaningless, silenced, by your own willingness to listen and follow your feeder to this place. Isolated, the only things visible being the feeding tube hanging from a mount above, a mirror failing to display just how obscenely overfed you’ve become, and a taunting chart showing a line spiking upward and various photos of what you can only assume are you at different stages of this process. When the feed pumping motor whirs off, the lights soon follow. Only turning on again when your body has created enough space to be filled again. You exist to eat. You are nothing without it, have nothing, can do nothing. Just lay there, fattening further and further, shocked at the start of every new day that you’ve somehow survived another night. Gasping, wheezing, struggling, eyes weeping at the realization that you can no longer see an end to the size of your own body, the folds of fat stretching too far beyond what limited head movement you are allowed. Until one day, the lights don’t turn on again.