biglazynerd

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I felt like a blimp!! 🤤🐷

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Feeling plump 🐷

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Holy shit 🥵

I love playing with my ~fat belly~ after every stuffing🥰

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Obeast.

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Slow day

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Reblog if:

You're 100% serious about becoming immobilized by your own fat. You gluttonous pig.

[biglazynerd]

Reblog

If you're into death/dark feedism

And are looking to encourage or be encouraged.

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I love gluttony and gorging on food so MUCH! 🤤🐷

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So fucking hot! 🥵

8 junior bacon cheeseburgers deep

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Belly jiggles in slowmo😊🐷

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Belly jiggles in slowmo😊🐷

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Look at that HANG!! It needs to go so much more down. I need to get so much fatter! I need this gut to fill my entire lap!

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Object of Desire

A thought that has been fluttering through my head…Written in about an hour…contains themes of extreme gaining and daddy/son roleplay.

I had just turned 40 when I first met Isaac. I had met so many gainers before him, even before our mutual fetish seemed to explode across the internet; but Isaac was different. We’d chatted for about a year online, and we finally met in person the weekend after he graduated from college. He was 22 at the time. I’ve never met someone with such a lust for gaining weight. The fire that burned so intensely in him matched the inferno within me perfectly. The age difference seemed inconsequential at the time…now it bonds us, just like the difference in our bodies. 

When we met, he called me Abe, like everyone else. It was at a restaurant near his school. I thought he was beautiful then at 250 lbs. He told me right after we sat how handsome he thought I was. I used that to my advantage and made sure he ate and ate at that place. First two appetizers, then his plate, then mine, and followed by the two desserts I ordered. All the food, I picked. He seemed to enjoy that. I took him back to his apartment and we shared a kiss and the promise to see each other again.

I started encouraging him on the regular, which led to actually feeding him. That was our sex. We both always got off, but the feeding and rubbing, that was the main event. He had roommates, so he would usually come to my place. Not that I minded. Our nights together were always intense, but the third or fourth feeding is when it slipped from his full lips for the first time- “daddy.”  He was high off of the feeding and had completely let his guard down. He seemed embarrassed. His full cheeks turned red. I didn’t miss a beat, though. I grabbed the fifth eclair and pressed it to his lips. “That’s right fatboy, eat for Daddy. Swallow til you burst, baby.” I pushed the whole thing into his mouth, my index and middle finger lingering on the pastry as it slid down his throat. His eyes were closed with little beads of sweat or maybe light tears at the edges of his dark lashes. He moaned as I brought a quart of half and half to his mouth as he sucked and sucked. I remember that night so well, even though it was five years ago. Things are a lot different now, hundreds of pounds later…

The digital clock by the bed says it’s just past midnight. I’m in a chair in a corner of the room, looking at the king sized bed…Well, looking at what’s on the bed. My fatboy lies there. He looks like a huge mound of dough that’s been gently piled onto a pedestal. He spreads out more everyday. I wonder when he’ll overflow the mattress…

Isaac passed out about an hour ago. I had just stuffed him with fast food burgers, fried chicken, and then forced a gallon of chocolate pudding mixed with heavy cream into him. The pudding and cream I funneled into him. Before sticking the big tube in his mouth, I asked him if he wanted more. He begged for it. “Please Daddy…feed me. Make me fatter. Don’t stop…” It’s so hot seeing my faboy like that. Barely 27 years old and completely bed-bound, obscenely obese and pleading for his “daddy” to grow him more. I could never say no to that. 

There’s a shelf above the bed with a hole drilled in the center. I can easily balance a gallon jug into a funnel and attach it to a tube through that hole. It let’s me keep my hands free to do whatever I want with my blob-boy. This is commonplace now. I did just that and poured my fatboy’s slop in. He chugged and moaned and attempted to keep his breathing from getting out of control. His gigantic legs were spread across the bed with sea of flab between them. I dove under, reaching up to my shoulder searching for his buried dick. It’s such a pleasure digging for it, the only hard part of him lost in sweaty, musty rolls. I found it and teased the nub of his tiny sex organ. I went slow until he got trough half the gallon, then I started stroking with more intensity, jiggling and shaking his rolls while he chugged for me. “Suck it all down fatboy, Daddy needs you fatter…I’m going to make you spill over this bed, blob-boy.” The words spilt from my lips like lava, hot and heavy. My coaxing burns in his ears and drives him wild. He’s moaned and sucked like he would never get enough. “Yeah, fatboy, eat. EAT,” I was shouting. “Give me more fat to fuck. C’mon, blob, Daddy’s gonna make you too fucking obese to do anything.” I could tell how intense it was getting for my fatboy. He was so close to finishing the gallon. “Swallow, baby. C’mon fatboy, swallow til you BURST” He let out a cry that was muffled by the last of the pudding and cream as his dick shot in my hand, lost in hundreds of pounds of fat. I pulled my arm out and started fucking the roll between his massive belly and right thigh. He was breathing so heavy and still moaning while I fucked his fat, hard. I recited a well-warn mantra of how I was going to make my blob-boy into the fattest on earth, and how he would beg me for it. I shot deep in a roll as he lost consciousness. I lost control as I emptied into my bed-bound boy. I moaned and roared and shook like an earthquake. 

Now I’m watching him sleep. The window across from the bed casts lines of light from the street through the blinds and onto my beautiful creation. I love him so much. I know he needs more. I love him enough to keep doing this to him. 

It’s quiet moments like this where I wonder if he’s more than human or less than human. I’ve turned him into such an amazing pile of lard. He’s art. Poetry in motion. He’s an idol on an altar that I worship daily. He worships me too…he eats for me like I’m his god. It’s amazing that he wants this, that he wants more. After so many years of looking, I was beginning to think there was no one who needed this as much as I did. But then we found each other, and here we are. He’s so young and so obese. Others would say I’m past my prime, but I’ve never felt so alive and potent. 

I get up and gently place my hand on the lower right edge of his belly and let it sink in just a little. I don’t want to wake him. It’s a beautiful contrast. When we met, Isaac’s skin was the color of light wheat. Now it’s so pale, like cream. My forearm and hand look like carved mahogany sinking into a sea of milk. I want to spread out onto him like he’s my mattress. 

I’m going to make him fatter. Everyday there will be more of my fatboy. He’ll wake midmorning tomorrow and I’ll have his breakfast ready for him. He’ll beg daddy for more, and I will always give him that. Sometimes I wonder if someone will intervene. A long lost friend or family member will try and rescue him from what we both want, he’ll wake from his reverie and long for a “normal” life again. But everyday, that possibility grows further and further away. 

Don’t worry baby, Daddy will take care of everything. Daddy’s going to give us what we both need. 

[biglazynerd]

These still fit right?

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Got my hands on some suspenders! I like em!