Thickness And Charm

24 🏳️‍🌈🐷. Love eatting fattening foods and feeling my belly get nice and big. Goal Weight: 250 lbs. Overal Goal Weigt: IDK. Current Weight: 235 Ibs. Always looking for encouragement.

[charliegyrth]

I’d love a gainer story about my last day mobile and my first day being immobile

Hi, people! This request came in before I launched my Chuck Gyrth side-blog. My darker, less romantic stuff goes there. But I'm posting this here instead. Content warning on immobility, obviously. Thanks so much for the suggestion, @twinkboi1313!

***

The Last Stairs

I came up with my plan when I noticed you struggling to get off the couch. It wasn't the first time you struggled, but it was the first time you just gave up and let yourself flop back down.

You were only 400 back then, still able to walk across the house, clothe yourself, wash (most of) yourself. You were limited, but you could still function without me.

That was about four years after we met.

You'd come a long way up to that point. We found each other online. You told me your deepest desires, and I promised to make them a reality.

We started with weekly feeding sessions, where you often said, "This is my last time! I mean it!" (We both knew you didn't mean it.)

Then you started coming multiple times a week. Your reluctance disappeared. I helped you give in.

After a year, you officially moved into my place. I watched your capacity increase. Your body soften. Your muscles atrophy. As you buried yourself in fat, you stopped questioning me. I could feed you anything I wanted and you'd take it.

Sticks of butter.

Tubs of grease.

Heavy cream sweetened with syrup.

Anything. Honestly, I think you got off on the less-tasty feeding sessions. Those made you prouder because they were harder to get down.

But you still had your moments of doubt. I could see it in your eyes. Little flickers of panic when you looked down at yourself and realized what you'd become. Minor freakouts each time you noticed easy tasks become annoying, then difficult, then impossible. I knew you wanted this, but I couldn't take away that last remaining part of you that remembered your old life.

I had to give you a goal, something to keep you on track. When I saw you struggling to stand, I knew what I needed to do.

That afternoon, I drew up plans to remodel my basement.

I barely used it for anything. Just food storage. But it was big. Lots of potential.

For the next few months, I refused to tell you what I was doing down there. You could hear the construction guys. The drilling and sawing and whatever.

But you couldn't see. I kept the door locked. If you asked about the basement, I just said, "Wait. Focus on your body."

After six months, it was ready. By then, you were 450 pounds. Maybe a little more. Absolutely gorgeous.

I joined you on the couch and finally told you what you'd been begging to hear:

"I made the basement into a gainer paradise. Everything down there is designed for your comfort and growth. You're gonna love it."

I hinted at all the special features I installed, but I didn't get too specific. I wanted to pique your curiosity, to make you beg to see it.

Which you did. Now that you knew your own slice of heaven was right under your feet, you had to see it.

"Absolutely," I said. I led you across the house, noticing the difficulty in each step, knowing that you were close but not quite there yet.

I unlocked the door and let you peer inside. You could see the steep stairway but nothing else. All the good stuff was just out of sight.

You took your first step onto the stairs, but you stopped yourself. You knew better.

I made the steps narrow and steep. At your size, with your center of gravity, you couldn't make it down.

"I haven't installed the railing yet," I explained. "Once I do that, then you're gonna freak. Trust me."

"And when are you gonna do that?"

"In about fifty pounds."

And true to my word, when you reached 500, the railing was ready. By then, you were breathing different. Wheezier. You spent all day on the couch and all night on the bed. I had to help you to the bathroom. Without me, you couldn't stand, though you could still walk by yourself and stay standing for minutes at a time.

Your moments of doubt were gone, replaced by excitement for the basement and fear of those stairs.

Finally, you were ready.

After your Iast upstairs feast, I took you to the porch for one final view of our street. The sun was setting. Our across-the-street neighbor was walking her dog when you huffed your way outside. I saw her all the time (still do), but she hadn't seen you for several hundred pounds. She didn't recognize you. And when she saw your blotchy-red face and overflowing belly, she diverted her eyes and ran off.

You looked at me with an equal mixture of regret and excitement. Seeing our neighbor one last time was a nice bookend to your old life, a reminder that you were now officially too big for the world outside. Your body had become obscene.

I took you back inside. Gave you a celebratory donut. And told you to finally follow me downstairs.

I raced down the basement stairs no problem. Then I waited at the bottom.

You stood at the top for a long moment. Your loud, wheezing breaths sounded nervous. Then slowly, like a diver stepping into shark-infested waters, you took your first step.

This was what I'd been waiting months for. What I'd been waiting my entire life for, really. I watched you carefully navigate each step, leaning against the rail as you struggled to keep your balance. Your hanging stomach pressed against your legs, but you were moving too slowly for it to thwack against you.

Three steps down. Twenty-seven to go.

You were gasping already. Partly from exertion but mostly from fear. You had to focus all your energy on not falling.

Four steps down. Then five.

You stopped. Recalibrated. Looked over your shoulder at the open door behind you. You only made it five steps and it was already too late to change your mind. The stairway was too narrow for you to turn around, and your legs didn't have the strength to go up those five steps.

I think that was the moment you realized that the steps were one way. Once you went down, you'd never make it back up. Surely, you were aware of that fact before, but now you finally had to admit it to yourself.

So you continued. Six steps. Seven.

You stopped again. Your pudgy hand had an iron grip on the railing.

And for a second, I saw you the way you used to be. Back when you were a 150-pound twink, eager to please and desperate to grow. Everything about you had changed... except that panicked expression. That was the same.

"You can do it," I called up to you.

You were too out-of-breath to respond.

There are plenty of 500-pound men who could handle a flight of stairs without this much trouble. But at your height, and with your total lack of muscle, this was all-but-impossible.

Maybe I waited too long. Maybe you should've come down here at 450.

Naw. That wouldn't have been as fun.

You stood there for several minutes, forcing your breathing to slow. Then you took another difficult step. And another.

Ten steps down, you almost lost your balance. I watched your body lean forward and your belly hang low, but you put all your weight on the railing and steadied yourself.

You grunted horribly.

I started to get worried.

What if you fall? Would your fat protect you? Probably not. You weren't even halfway down, and if you tumbled the rest of the way, your brittle, buried bones would break.

For an awful moment, I regretted everything. I felt cruel. Even though you wanted this, you begged me for it, I took things too far.

But then you straightened, lowered your foot to the next step, and smiled down at me.

Halfway done.

You gained some confidence, or at least some desperation, because you seemed to speed up.

I thought of your first feeding. How ruthless I was, and how grateful you were afterwards. You were just a little guy back then, with a packed belly and no fat on your bony body. I was so proud of you.

And right now, I was even prouder.

Two thirds done. Less than ten steps left.

Sweat oozed down your crimson face. Your tank top was soaked, plastered to your skin.

Nine more steps. Eight.

The end was in sight, and even though you were gasping for air and grunting between gasps, you continued.

Until finally, after what felt like hours, you made it to the bottom step. You were so exhausted, so achy, that you tripped on the very last step and I had to grab you.

You were finally in your gainer heaven, but you didn't have the strength to look around and see what I made for you. All you could do was lean against me as I helped you stumble across the basement and fall into your bed.

You didn't see the food carts. Or conveyor belts. Or milkshake tanks. You didn't notice the special features in your new bed. The hole in the middle for your waste. The attachments that would keep you washed and clean.

You spread your body across the bed, too weak to move, too exhausted to raise your head. All you could do was drift off to sleep and let your body recuperate from the hardest workout of your life.

You'd probably sleep for days if I didn't wake you up a few hours later with the nozzle to your milkshake tube pressed against your lips.

You drank for me, desperately sucking down the creamy liquid as your brain finally registered your surroundings.

When I pulled the nozzle away, a bit of cream trickling down your cheek, you mumbled, "I can't... do that again."

"You won't have to," I assured you.

Those were the last steps you would ever take. From now on, you were here. Right where you needed to be.

Everything in this place was made to keep you growing. If your muscles weren't so sore from those steps, you probably could've gotten out of this bed.

But by the time your body recovered, the scale under your mattress said you were up another 15 pounds. We both knew what that meant.

And now, a few weeks later, you're safe and comfy in your bed. There aren't any windows in the basement, so you can't see what's outside. But you have your TV. And your food.

And me.

You don't need anything else.

***

Thanks for reading! Check out my brand-new website! It's not all that fancy (I'm terrible with technology), but it has all my important links and updates.

And if you haven't checked it out, my ebook Secret Bearification is out now! It's pretty hot.

[listentoace]

Look at what you've done to yourself, covering that body of yours with a nice layer of fat. And that after you've been resisting gluttony for such a long time. It only shows again that you can't escape feederism. It's such a slippery slope, isn't it? Being tempted by something indulgent and giving in for the first time to experience how it feels.

After your first stuffing, you're hornier than ever before. It's much more intense than what you've experienced before. Does indulging feel even better than sex? You have to get off, so you start masturbating to the thought of getting as fat as the feedees you look at.

The next morning, you notice how your body is slightly softer than the day before. You get wet immediately and masturbate. You're tempted to indulge again, it felt so good. Just one more time and you'll stop. You can't actually get fat, right?

You eat even more than the day before, pushing the limit of how many calories you can devour in one sitting. Why does this feel so good? You feel ashamed, yet you can't help but masturbate again. After you've cum, you realize that you should slow down. You've never stuffed yourself before and now you've done it 2 days in a row. Better stop while you still can.

The next morning, you notice how your body has gotten slightly softer again. Would a normal person pay this much attention to how their body felt and developed? Would a normal person become this horny when they felt new, fresh, soft fat on their body? You masturbate, imagining what it might feel like to have a hanging belly. You manage to eat normal again, yet you can't keep your hands off your belly.

A few days go by, it's time to go grocery shopping. You need to refill the snack cabinet, after you've emptied it within 2 days. You'll be able to ration it, you think. You're already getting horny on the way home, tempted to stuff yourself. Are you craving it already? The second you get home, you start indulging. Instead of dinner, you finish off the snacks before they even make it into the cabinet. Something salty, something savory, something sweet. Every bite sends a rush through your body.

When you wake up, your hands naturally gravitate towards your belly, feeling the new pudge. You move around, laying in different positions and end up choosing one where your belly feels softest. You masturbate again, while groping your own fat. You know you've gained, but how much? Stepping onto the scale reveals that you're up 7 pounds. Your knees get weak, your heart begins to pound, shame and lust course through your veins. You masturbate again.

You're getting addicted to the feeling of feeling new fat in the morning. Just like your body, the craving to stuff yourself at night keeps growing. You tell yourself that it's okay. You're just experimenting with this kink you've had for so long. You'll be able to lose it all when you're done, right? While scrolling through Tumblr, you see a before/after of a feedee and how they went from 120 to 387 pounds, almost 400. You used to be 120 pounds, too.

With every orgasm and every stuffing, you become more addicted to gluttony, without realizing it. Weeks go by, you're up 13 pounds now. Some pants are getting tight, you're ashamed to have let yourself go this much. You're afraid someone is going to ask you if you've gained weight. When they do, you play it off with a joke or even try denying it, only to stuff yourself and masturbate again as soon as you're alone.

You're up 21 pounds. More than 20 pounds? It's time to slow down, maybe lose some weight again. It shouldn't be too difficult to exercise since you're still in shape, right? But a 30min workout can't balance out a 3,000 calorie stuffing. Your stuffings get more depraved. Something about heavy cream turns you on. 1,500 calories per bottle. You could drink one in seconds. You grab 2 of then at your next trip to the grocery store. It's become a routine to buy snacks and some frozen junk food.

One night, your horniness drives you to drink heavy cream. It's thick, fatty, and not as easy to drink as you secretly hoped. You add some sugar, which does the trick for you. The extra calories only turn you on more. After drinking heavy cream, your orgasms feel even more intense after a regular stuffing. Is it because it's so fattening? Is it because you just drank the caloric equivalent of 2 pizzas. That reminds you, you have some in the freezer.

34 pounds. You've outgrown most of your pants, your belly starts to stick out, your hips and thighs are softer and your bras are getting tight. You're getting chubby. Skinny you feels like a distant memory, yet part of you is still convinced that you are. You scroll through Tumblr again, seeing another before/after of that feedee. 120 pounds vs 408 pounds. You get horny, knowing they crossed 400 pounds. Yet you ask yourself: is this a glimpse into your own future?

[jbulky]

Want to see how I am getting on?

After popular demand i decided to start one ! Here you go,

OnlyFans is the social platform revolutionizing creator and fan connections. The site is inclusive of artists and content creators from all

[mettatonisbest]

Being your big fat hog is all I'm good for now. My entire body is too thick and heavy, my mind is too addicted for me to even think about doing anything myself. My arms are so heavy they're practically useless for anything other than shoveling more fattening slop in my mouth, but even then, that gets exhausting to do after a few minutes. My thighs are so large that they force my legs to spread out, and they still touch. My ass is so huge and heavy that no amount of chairs could ever hope contain it. My belly has reached a point where it covers most of my lower body if I sit up. I'm absolutely covered in squshy, jiggling lard with rolls all over. I haven't even considered trying, but I don't know if my body can even get up or stand on its own anymore. But it's not enough. No matter how much you and I work to stuff me, no matter how full I am, it's never enough. I need more. I need to be bigger. Both because I know you can't get enough of your food addicted piggy growing for you, and because I love what I've turned into. I need to become a fully immobile morbidly obese blob for you. I get so horny thinking about how big I am and how I'm still only going to keep getting bigger. But since I can't reach to pleasure myself, I have to desperately beg you to touch me. Of course I don't get that privilege until I've been a good fat boy, eating everything you prepared for me while you praise me for being such a pig. When you lay face down on top of me, I notice something damp rubbing up against me. You start teasing me, tempting me. If I wasn't such a fatass, I could reach down there and touch myself, but instead, I'm at your mercy. I whimper and moan, but continue stuffing my face. It's not very noticeable, but you can tell I'm desperately shoveling this stiff into my mouth as fast as my heavy arms will let me. Finally, I finished all my food, and you start digging through the rolls and folds of softness that are hiding the only hard thing on my body. Your search eventually ends. From there, as I stare at what's visible of you behind my belly, as pleasure overwhelmes me, only these words come to mind.

I'm such a huge fatty

I need to keep growing

I need to be bigger

I won't stop eating

Because I'm your fat pig

That's all I'm good for

That's all I was ever meant to be.

[gordo-gg]

[boneyardbellybabe]

Me and who?

[hedonists-den]

POV: Your eating habits and your weight have gotten so unbelievably out of control lately that I think it's about time I give you a wake-up call in the form of some teasing and shaming.

⚠️ It gets a little mean, so... ⚠️

Hope you enjoy! 😇

Visit Original Link

TRANSCRIPT:

What is it? Is there something you need to tell me? You overate again... Well, I'm not surprised. Is it really overeating if you do it every time you sit down and glut yourself like you’re trying to win some prize? No, it's just the norm for fatasses like you. Shameless, self-indulgent gluttony is just the way it is for you. You should be ashamed. You should be desperately searching for a way to stop yourself. What kind of person shovels food in their face the way you do? What kind of person lets themselves get so obese that they can’t do basic things without getting winded?

I don’t imagine you even have any excuse for what you're doing to yourself. Imagine what you could look like if you weren't so busy gorging yourself with greasy food and carbs every chance you get. It's fucking obscene. And do I really need to bring up your sweets addiction? I swear, at this point, you might as well just have me hook a funnel up to your greedy mouth and pour syrup down your throat. 

Wait…please don’t tell me…do you actually think about that? What, are you just going to eat and eat and eat until you can barely waddle from room to room? Have me stuff you until all that weight that you keep piling on ripples with every lumbering step that you take? Is that what you want, fatty? This huge, heavy-breathing, mound of embarrassing flab that can barely maneuver around your own home? If you keep this shit up, you’ll be there faster than all those DoorDash deliveries you keep getting every fucking day.

At this point, I’m just morbidly curious about what goes on inside your head that justifies letting yourself become so shockingly, grotesquely obese. I mean, look at what a shameless blob you are…rolls stacked on top of each other like pancakes, each one covered in stretch marks, with a hanging gut that takes over your lap, the flab on your arms keeping them pinned to your sides. God, every inch of your body is overflowing with fat. You eat so many goddamn calories, it looks like you're in a near-constant state of stretching and expanding. How can you not notice that your body is screaming at you to stop being such a fucking pig?

Is there even a point in trying to shame you for all of this? You’re obviously not going to change one thing about the way you’re ruining yourself. All you’re going to do, as soon as you can, is find the next thing to stuff your face with. So, what is it going to be this time, tubby? Burgers? Pizza? Few boxes of snack cakes? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past you to get all three, the way that I’ve seen you eat. You clearly don’t have any self-control, so, fuck it, why not? Just hork down more calories until your body can barely handle it. Stuff your bottomless pit of a stomach every chance that you get. Even after every other sign is telling you to stop. 

You know what? I don’t think anything can help you now. You are too far gone, and there’s no way you’re coming back from this. You’re going to be half a metric ton of pure blubber soon enough. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself for what a hopeless, greedy, wobbling tub of lard that you are. So just lay back and grab another snack, why don’t you?

[lardchitect]

A Forced Gorging

You sit naked in my kitchen, tied to a chair. Your painfully overfull belly bulges heavily in front of you. You're breathing hard, sweat beading on your forehead. It's obvious you're having trouble sitting still. You keep shifting from side to side in your chair, your plump thighs rubbing against each other. The vibrator inside you hums quietly, occasionally making you gasp and shiver. I can't help but watch the way your body jiggles and bounces as you squirm. It's incredibly sexy.

"If you want to cum, you have to eat," I remind you as I hold a ladle of melted chocolate up to your lips. "More calories, more pleasure."

You obediently open your mouth and tilt your head back. You moan as I pour the chocolate over your lips, your tongue. You seem to struggle with it, but I just keep pouring it down. "Good pig."

You gulp down mouthful after mouthful of chocolate until you can't take any more. "Please..." you gasp. "No more... no more..."

"No, no. More. There's no such thing as enough." I put down the ladle and begin heating up an ice cream container from the freezer in the microwave. I give your poor belly a short break from being pushed to its limits by making you watch me fill a huge container with melted ice cream. As I approach you with the ice cream, I turn up the power on the vibrator slightly, making you cry out and buck against the chair.

You struggle to breathe as I begin to dump the melted ice cream into your already stuffed, bloated belly. You struggle against your bindings, causing your stomach to jiggle and bounce. As I continue pouring the creamy, fattening treat down your throat, you whine and moan, but you can't do anything to stop me.

As the container is emptied and your belly looks ready to burst, I turn the vibrator to its highest setting and watch your fat body jiggle violently as you cum. It's truly a glorious sight to behold.

You slump in your chair, out of breath and gasping. I can see the pleasure in your face as well as the exhaustion and discomfort. I've been pushing you to your limit, forcing you to gorge on various rich, fattening foods, and it has done wonders for your body. You've grown much plumper since we started, and the extra blubber sits heavily on your lard-filled hips and gut, making you wobble and shake. Your body is covered in stretchmarks from the speed of your weight gain, and lately your appetite has been out of control. As nice as all this is, I have to admit I am still more than impatient about fattening you up, and you are nowhere near huge enough for me yet.

[ginslobby]

i want this so bad

[chubbygaymer]

Pushing past my limits. 🐽

OnlyFans is the social platform revolutionizing creator and fan connections. The site is inclusive of artists and content creators from all

[mortiskiller]

Man to Hog

Visit Original Link

Trigger Warning: Extreme weight gain, immobility, weight gain regret, manipulation and non-consent.

An audio for those that enjoy darker feedist fantasy ideas. Your feeder is ready to take you to the next stage, can you handle it.

[mortiskiller]

Cream Filled (Audio)

Visit Original Link

A reading for @tubbybunnysblog amazing story, Cream Filled. Make sure to check out their blog and read their work!

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

The Pig Show

You met Tobin on a gainer chatroom, he was nearby and absolutely perfect. He was only slightly taller than you, with pitch black hair and a build that suggested that he was a star football player during his high school years. But most important of all, he was absolutely wild at the idea of accepting you under his wing as he takes control over you, dictating when, where and what to eat.

It started with deciding to make all of your dates with him at restaurants. With every waiter he would always step in and order the sizes of your meals along with desserts for the two of you afterwards, while always leaving some leftovers on his own plate for you to finish off afterwards. Throughout the first few weeks he would push you farther and fatter than anything you’ve even gone by yourself.

After a while it was becoming clear the food that was offered by most restaurants weren’t enough for his standards nor your increasing gluttony, which was why he told you to meet him at his place for more intimate feeding sessions.

Keep reading

[anonymouse8888-deactivated20230]

@mortiskiller always wants me to eat more… and more… and more…

[mortiskiller]

This is how you should listen to what I make. Take notes, everyone.

[mortiskiller]

Midnight Snack: Funnel Feeding

Visit Original Link

An audio about your belly waking you up for a midnight snack with a funnel and love.

[mortiskiller]

Video version my audio, Too Stuffed Won't Stop. Decided to post after seeing @ihatemakingusernames blog.

[oreo-feeder-deactivated20220418]

Bribery?

[beefyfratguyy]

So You’ve Decided to Become a Gainer

So you’ve decided to become a gainer.

This is you now. A 170 pound 20 year old man. Lean. Fit. Curious. And boy are you hungry.

It starts by obsessing over other men’s weight. You notice every change in men’s bodies. Your father has put on a beer gut. Your college classmates start wearing sweatpants all the time. Their lovehandles pop out in shirts. The skin around their flat stomachs becomes soft and plump. No change in weight is too small or subtle. You notice it. And you want it. 

You research it. Google “how to get fat on purpose.” “Best ways to gain weight.” “Highest calorie foods.” “Men who gain weight.” “How to gain weight fast”.

Get erect. All this excites you. And you know you need it. One day, the decision is made. You will get fat on purpose. You will force your body to get as big and plump and bloated and chubby and saggy and puffy and fat as you want. It will never be enough but at least it will be something. That day, you overeat intentionally. An extra burger from McDonalds. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s. A six pack of beer. You are stuffed and satisfied and horny. You jerk off that night feeling your bloated gut. You love the sensation. You must do this again and again and again. 

The first 10 pounds comes easy. You barely need to try. A little here, a little there, eat like a man. Finish an entire large pizza to yourself. Ice cream after. And beer. Your pants get snug. You fill out a little bit. No one notices. But you noticed. And now you realize how much more you’ll need to feel anything. This is not enough. 

190 pounds. 

No longer thin, but not noticeably fat. Just a little soft. Some call you beefy. You’ve been exploring more ways to gain. Drink a gallon of whole milk a day. You can barely move after. You push your gut out as far as it will go. The pressure is incredible. The liquid sloshes in your belly. Hard to go to the gym this way, so may as well stay home and snack. 34in jeans fit better now. You’re liking the bloat. Decide to keep it bloated every day. If you can eat until you’re stuffed bloated every day, surely you will gain weight fast. And you do.

200 pounds. 

These first thirty pounds have happened so easily. Too easily? You don’t feel like it’s any different. But it is. You are softer all over. You hate cardio and never jog anymore. Large shirts hug your budding belly. People can see your deepening belly button through your shirt. You always clean your plate, out of habit now. People offer you food, knowing you’ll never say no. You are a big guy now. He’s a beefcake. “hey big guy.” The other guys call you “thicc” and “meaty.” But you want more than that. And you will get it. 

215.

Eggnog chugs. Boost chugs. 12 packs of beer. Mass Gainer. Heavy Cream. Jars of peanut butter. Extra olive oil. You need MORE and you want it now. The next 15 pounds come fast. No amount is too much for you. You film all this now. You want a record of your progress. You pat your chubby ball gut in satisfaction. You find fat in places you didn’t realize got fat. That area around your cock is puffy and soft. The side of what once was your muscular pec is now dimpled and flabby. Your inner thighs. Your back. Softer. 

230.

Your gains are obvious. It’s been 60 lbs and two years. But college does that to people. Your parents realize your party lifestyle has impacted your diet. You’re not a high school jock anymore, but hey, why not enjoy college? You’ve graduated and you want help to keep growing. Meet up with a feeder. He’s older than you. Potbellied. Clearly he’s put on weight himself. He opens the door in his underwear. You are shy. But your gut poking through your large tee and your lovehandles spilling over your jeans are all he needs to see to know you’ve been doing plenty of damage to yourself without his help. He intends to fucking destroy you. And he will.

This is when it gets intense. He makes you open the fridge where a gallon tub of ice cream has been melting into a vat of chocolatey goo. You will drink it all and he will make you do it sitting in front of the mirror naked.You gets you high on marijuana and poppers. You step on the scale and realize in erotic satisfaction that you have put on 4 pounds instantly. 

Your gut has never been more full. You are more erect than you have ever been. You have never felt SO GOOD.

He has you now. Addicted. Welcome to gaining, pig.

250.

 There’s no going back now. Your gut is distended and chubby and bloated all the time. And you are PROUD of it. Bright red stretchmarks have erupted across your round, soft, stomach and lovehandles. They remind you of your progress and you love them. You want more. You look like a fat guy now. Your face is puffy and round. You never go to the gym anymore. You can’t hide your weight gain in the baggiest of clothes. A double chin has formed so you grow a scraggly beard to cover it. Clothes do not fit you the same. You look… disheveled. And you do not care. All you CARE about is getting MORE. 

You are becoming a proper hog.Your feeder has done some serious damage and you love it. You obey him. You trust him. He wants you fatter, and you oblige. Each session is intense and he’s pushing your limits. The challenge is so erotic, you don’t even realize the changes that are occurring. You just know you want more. You are his slob now. A greedy, hungry, gainer. You are transforming. But it is still not enough. You cannot stop now.

270.

You have gained 100 pounds. Or have you? You still look so skinny in the mirror. You’re pudgy, MAYBE. Definitely not fat. There are way more guys that are fatter than you, and they aren’t even trying. You must gain more. Your family is concerned. 100 pounds in five years is a lot. “You should get back in the gym.” “Lay off the beer.” “Too many sweets and fast food.”

This only motivates you more. You’ll show them just how big you can get. Next time they see you, they will be horrified; you will make sure of that. 

Your feeder is proud of his pig, and you need him more than ever. He pushes you to gorge unrelentlessly. New creative ways to pump you full of calories. Your skin is always tight. Every time you feed, you think, “I’ve never been this full.” Yet you crave more. Your cock throbs as you play with your soft underbelly. It sags now over your waistband, no matter what kind of pants you wear. Your ass cheeks are soft and dimpled. Your lovehandles are embarrassingly wide. People look at you funny. When you eat in public, people are grossed out. 

300.

You run into an old college classmate who has himself gained weight. He barely recognizes you with the double chin and the beard and the waddle. You converse. He says “I guess we all put on a little weight after college” as he pats your soft, flabby belly just above your navel. This excites you. But you play it off. “Yeah work keeps me busy. No time to exercise and I just love trying new restaurants.”

The truth is, you don’t care what food tastes like. You will chug anything, stuff anything into your fat face that your feeder tells you to. You are his now. He is the only person you are attractive to now. Too fat for normal men. You are now an acquired taste. Only chubby chasers and encourages want your sweaty, waddling, bloated, curvy body. 

330.

You are in denial. "It’s not that much, I think I want another 50 pounds.“ 

The statement is laughable on its face. You are a blubbery mess of a man. This is what addiction does to you. You can’t even realize that 160 pounds of pure lard packed onto your once-thin frame is a lot. Nothing fits you anymore. You are always out of breath. People you used to know do not recognize you. You’ve given up all your hobbies except the only one that matters: Gaining. 

Gaining is the only thing you want. The only thing you think about. The only thing that gets your cock hard. And you must have more. 

350.

You film yourself naked eating a pie on all fours. Sniff poppers. Then slam back two pints of melted ice cream. The flavor doesn’t matter. It drips out the side of your mouth and over your fat tits. Your nipples are swollen and sensitive. You love having your tits played with. Oink Oink. You reach under your heavy soft overhang and pull it up. Jiggle it for your camera. Burp. Slap your gut.

You masturbate to these videos you film of yourself. You are shocked when you look back at your video at 250 and think “WOW I was so thin back then.” Reality is, 250 was NOT thin. But your perception of what is fat, what is thin, is so distorted by your fetish that it’s completely disconnected from reality. 

400.

Your feeder laughs and pats your gut as the scale reads 400 for the first time.

You are fatter now than he has ever been. 

“How do you feel, pig?” he says, grinning, and with his cock leaking precum in his underwear. 

“I feel… small. Like I need another 50 pounds,” you respond as you rub the soft hanging part of your belly. “And I’m still hungry.”

He loves hearing that. He sits you down in front of the mirror and watches as you drink a Boost VHC. 500 calories a piece. 

Drink another.

And another.

And another.

2000 calories. 

“Feel better pig?“ 

“yes sir.” you respond. 

As you look in the mirror, you let out a satisfying burp and jiggle your heft. Everything wobbles on you now. What you see back doesn’t shock you, but it should.

You think: What have I become? What have I done to myself? Why do I still feel so small?

Then you reach around your massive gut and feel your cock. It’s buried in fatpad now. And erect. Leaking precum. Your feeder gets on his knees and puts his lips on your cock. and starts slowly sucking off his greedy boy pig. This is your life now. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. And you still want more. 

[gainerfiction]

Cam Guy

“Aaannnnddd we’re live…” said Dom as he began his nightly live broadcast on a popular porn website. “Bring it on boys, let’s see what you got!” He exclaimed.

Dom was a top broadcaster on this site. He was 5'11" and 195 pounds with a very lean muscular build. His skin was tan and he had a slightly hairy body. His voice was deep, and slightly raspy. Dom took pride in the fact that he let his viewers take control of his broadcasts. Tonight, Dom was using a vibrating dildo that would give a strong, pulsing vibration everytime a viewer sent a donation or tip.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Rang the dildo as a viewer donated tokens.

“Oooohh fuck!” Groaned Dom, “We’re off to a quick start tonight.”

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

“Oouuuggghhh! Fuck! who’s the aggressive donator?!” Screamed Dom as he looked at his broadcast’s chat.

Dom scrolled through his chat to the most recent donation. The tips came from an unfamiliar name, “Luvbig500.”

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

“Ohhh! Thank you Luvbig500. It’s always good to see some new faces, especially ones who tip.”

Dom was wearing a black jockstrap that could barely contain his bulge. The dildo vibrated again, and he began rubbing his cock. Dom continued to groan as the bulge in his jockstrap grew larger.

*ding!*

Rang a notification of a new private message from Luvbig500.

“Love hearing you groan” It read.

Dom quickly typed a reply. “Thanks for the donations. Keep making me groan then ;-)”

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom began to groan with pleasure.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

The dildo continued to buzz, and Dom screamed with pleasure. He removed his cock from his jockstrap, and began to jack off. The buzzing didnt let up, and Dom’s body began to tremble.

*BZZZZ-BZZZZ*

Luvbig500 began tipping in higher amounts triggering the dildo to buzz at its highest level.

Dom’s body was overcome with pleasure. His hands reached for something to grab, and his back arched. His dick grew more erect, and the buzzing continued.

“Dont stop!” He said as his voice quivered.

Dom continued to reach for something to grab, and arched his back more. He began to scream as he came. His load shot across the room. The buzzing halted and Dom’s body collapsed.

“Holy fuck, I’ve never cum that hard.” He said as he panted.

*ding*

An ominous private message came in from Luvbig500, “If I send something to your P.O. Box, do you promise to use it in your broadcast?”

Dom raised his weak body and typed his reply, “yeah, the address is in my description. No one has ever made me orgasm like that. I’ll do anything for you.”

Dom sent the message, but by the time it had sent, Luvbig500 was already offline.

As the days days went by, Dom continually checked his P.O. box. A couple fan letters, but nothing from his new viewer.

One day, Dom anxiously logged into his broadcasting profile for his nightly cam show, and checked his private messages. Luvbig500’s last login showed as 4 days ago.

“Ugh, I wonder what he’s going to send me. I’m so excited to try whatever it is out.”

Dom went to check his P.O. box one last time before his broadcast was scheduled to start.

“Finally!” Dom exclaimed.

There was a small box in Dom’s mail. There was no return address listed, but a small note was taped to the top.

“For tonight, Dom.” It read

Dom quickly moved inside and opened the package. Inside was a dildo that looked similar to the vibrating one Dom had. There was also a note.

Dom opened the note and it read, “this one is more powerful, I know you’ll love it.”

He set aside the note and dildo, and went to his computer. It was nearly time for his cam show.

*ding*

A new private message from Luvbig500.

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah! I’m excited to try it.”

“Just a fair warning, once it starts buzzing… it can be hard to want it to stop.”

“Uhm… what does that mean exactly?!”

A minute went by with no reply.

“It’s just very powerful is all.”

Dom thought to himself. He was nervous to try the dildo if it was really that powerful, but he remembered how he felt the other night.

“Ahhh, what’s the worse that could happen. Let’s try this out.” He replied.

It was time for Dom’s cam show. He inserted his new dildo, and reached for his computer to begin his show.

“Alright, time to try something new! Luvbig500 considering how you made me cum the other night, I’m expecting this to be good!” He exclaimed to his webcam.

Dom laid back on his bed, and waited for his viewers to take control. He was wearing a white pair of bikini briefs, and already had a large bulge.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

The new dildo began vibrating and Dom let out a small yelp. He was surprised by how powerful the vibrations felt. Dom could feel a dull tingle rush through his whole body.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom groaned, and felt as his whole body could feel the pleasure of his new dildo.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom began to feel euphoric, but noticed a new sensation arising. A slight pressure was beginning to build in Dom’s stomach. The pressure was slightly painful, but it was also very pleasurable.

Dom found himself enjoying the feeling. He looked at his stomach and noticed it starting to bulge slightly.

“What the hell?!” He exclaimed.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz**bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Many donations began coming in as Dom’s viewers became infatuated with the pleasure the new dildo was giving him.

“Oughhh! Ahhh! That feels fantastic.” Said Dom, as the pressure in his stomach grew more.

He looked back at his stomach, and it began to look like he had swallowed a basketball. Dom began to rub his belly, and notice that his chest was beginning to feel more swollen.

Dom reached for his computer and typed a message to Luvbig500, “what is this?! What’s happening?!”

An icon showed that Luvbig500 viewed the message but didnt respond.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom’s body was filled with pleasure again as more donations came in. Everytime the dildo buzzed, Dom was unable to control himself. He became captive to the sensations that ran through his body.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz**bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

“Ougghhh FUCK!” He yelled.

Dom was able to escape his euphoria for a moment and began to feel his body. The pressure was building in his arms and legs now. He rubbed his body and noticed how soft he was beginning to feel. He moved his hands to his belly and was able to grab a handful of what seemed to be fresh, soft fat.

“Oh no. No. Stop. You need to stop.” He said as he looked over at his webcam.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom panicked and reached down to the dildo to try and removed it.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz* *bzzzz-bzzzzzz**bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom was quickly overcome with pleasure and was unable to continue his attempt to remove the dildo.

*ding*

Luvbig500 finally responded, “remember what I said about how powerful it is? Just sit back and enjoy it, big guy :-) we’re in control now.”

Dom read the message and his eyes grew wide.

“Big guy! Big guy?! You’re making me huge! This needs to stop!” He exclaimed to his webcam as he reached down to try and pull out the dildo.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

Dom yelped and was overcome with pleasure again.

Luvbig500 sent another message, “trying to take it out is useless. You dont have control. Just enjoy it.”

Doms heart was beating rapidly, and he layed his head back as the donations began coming in faster and faster. With each donation, the pleasant feeling Dom felt grew stronger. Dom continued to let out captivated groans.

“Fuuuck, it feels so good.” He said as he reached to grab his body.

Dom was becoming addicted to the sensation. The euphoria he felt helped him forget his panic, and made him only want more. Dom was now double his normal size and weight. His thighs were beginning to touch, his arms no longer had any muscular definition, his chest was billowing out and folding over his belly, and his love handles spilled out over his fully stretched underwear.

“Dont stop! Please! It feels so good.” Dom belted out.

The donations were coming in nonstop, and Dom barely had time to catch his breath between every moan. His underwear was completely buried in fat and no longer visible. His belly folded over into his lap, and his love handles began to wrap around his body completely. His body was growing like a balloon. His skin was stretching beyond its limits, and now his bed was starting to creak.

Dom made an attempt to sit up, but his belly was easily growing past 60" around and prevented him from being able to pull himself up. He rolled to his side and onto his belly, and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. His stomach was inches from touching his bed.

Dom’s ass now showed directly towards the camera. His underwear was ripping down the center. His skin was smooth and round. Dom’s viewers grew excited at the sight of doms ass, and tipped in large donations. The dildo triggered a tremendous buzz and Dom’s body instantly grew pounds of fat every second.

Dom screamed loud enough for his neighbors to hear. His belly grew and was now touching his bed. Dom’s arms began to struggle to hold his growing weight.

Another set of large donations trickled in, and Doms body grew larger. Dom noticed as his arms and knees were no longer having to support his weight. His belly was growing so large that it began to lift him off his bed. Doms bed was creaking loudly.

“This has to stop.” Dom thought to himself, “If I shut off the cam show, then they cant tip.”

Dom reached for his computer, but his arms were growing too heavy. Dom tried to roll his body to the edge of his bed so he could reach better, but he had grown so large that he didnt even have the strength to move.

*ccrrrraaaAAAAACCCKKKKK*

Dom’s bed collapsed under his tremendous weight, and fell to the floor. Dom was helpless. He couldn’t stop his cam show, and there was no possible way for him to reach the dildo to pull it out.

He grew and grew as his viewers relentlessly donated. With every buzz Dom’s body shook with pleasure. His fat body rippled as new pounds of fat struggled to find a place to settle. Dom was now screaming with orgasmic intensity.

By this point, Dom could no longer tell how large he was. His bed was no longer visible, and he was easily over 1000 lbs. His underwear ripped long ago, and he was now just a naked blob of fat, growing uncontrollably.

Dom’s arms were pushed directly out to his side. Rolls of fat grew deeper and deeper. Dom’s feet could no longer touch the floor. His body was still growing.

Dom’s body could no longer take the back to back orgasms he could feel throughout his body. Dom let out an animalistic yell as he finally cam. Dom’s dick was completely buried in fat, but his viewers watched as cum slowly dripped down his thighs. The donations stopped, but Dom’s cam show was still live.

Dom was completely weak. He turned his head towards his computer and read his chat.

“Sooo hot”

“This guy is ginormous!”

“Is the broadcast over? Why’s he still on? He came didnt he?”

Dom was unable to move, and layed helplessly as his viewers continued to comment.

*bzzzz-bzzzzzz*

The donations started back up, and Dom’s body continued to grow. Dom groaned, as he realized it would never stop. His growing body was now forever in control of his viewers. Growing endlessly.