fatfvck03

[fatfvck03]

slosh monster 🥴

[fatfvck03]

Huuuuge fan of this angle hehe. Can't wait until it sticks out even further ;3 even just seeing how big i look like this turns me on so much. I cant help it, all I can think about is food and growing more and more and more and it makes me start trying to grind into my flab

[fatfvck03]

I promised my doctor I’d eat less, so why can’t I stop myself from glutting myself into a fattened mess of a piggish little catboy? I had three dinners for dinner, and three desserts before hand! I just couldn’t choose, so I decided I’d get all of them…. But now… look at what I’ve done to myself!

[fatfvck03]

Oops, gave myself a bellyache from eating and drinking too much. Now I’m stuck in bed unable to do anything but grope my belly and whine

[fatfvck03]

You are already so very fat. Every time you catch your reflection, notice the fat man looking back at you. Every time you move, notice how your body jiggles, how your rolls of fat slide over each other and spread out. There is no going back when you are already this fat. It is inevitable that you will just keep getting fatter now. Every moment is a reminder of how fat you have made yourself, and every time you think about how fat you are, you give in more to being a fatty.

You are addicted to food. Your favorite foods are calorie dense junk food, and eating your favorite fattening foods is your answer for everything. When you are sad, go stuff your fat face to feel better. When you are happy celebrate by pigging out. When you are bored, fill the time by getting high and seeing how many empty calories you can fit in that big fat belly of yours. You have a hole inside you that needs to be constantly filled with food. When you are not completely stuffed with fattening junk, the hunger is overwhelming, and all you can think about is getting your fix. The only way to keep the hunger at bay is to be a good fatty and keep shoveling in those calories. When you do eat your fill, it is the best feeling in the world. The dull ache of your stomach being stretched out with junk food gives you more happiness than anything else in your life. You feel true contentment when you are full of food that will turn into more and more fat.

Every ounce of fat on your body seals your fate as a fatty. You already have hundreds of pounds of blubber on you now fatty, so there's no point in fighting it. It feels good to give in and accept that you will always be fat. People will always see you as the fat guy, and the way they treat you confirms that a fatty is just who you are. It's okay that you're addicted to food, you're supposed to be. You're a fatty carrying hundreds of pounds of useless lard, so it's okay that you can't waddle very far without getting tired. It's okay to ask for special accommodations for your fatness, after all you're a big fat fatty who needs them. Accept the limitations of being a fatty, because there's nothing you can do about them. You will always be a fatty, so there's no use holding back or hiding what you are. You will be the fatty you are meant to be, and you will feel good about it. It feels good to be who you are. It feels good to let go and just be a fatty getting fatter. The fatter you get, the more you can relax and accept yourself as a fatty.

You notice how fat you are constantly throughout the day. Every time you move you notice how you jiggle, and how your fat spreads out and forms rolls. You can always feel how your dick is buried in a soft roll of lard. When you stand, you can feel your heavy belly hanging off of you. When you waddle, you can feel your blubber bouncing and swaying back and forth. When you sit down, you can feel how your whole body spreads out and your fat belly sits on your lap like a big sack of jello. You can feel your fat double chin every time you move your head. You can feel how your arms rest at an angle because your big fat love handles are in the way. From your head to your toes you are covered in jiggly blubber. You can feel how every inch of you is soft, weak, and yielding. You feel good when you notice how fat you are, and you want to make yourself even fatter. These sensations are your reward for being a good fatty, and a reminder of who you are. You feel fat because you are fat, and you're going to get even fatter. You enjoy everything about being fat. You are fulfilled when you can feel how fat you have become.

You identify as a fatty. It is just a fact of who you are like your height or eye color. You are a fatty in everything you do. Fatties eat too much fast food. You are a fatty, so you eat too much fast food. Fatties are slow and lazy. You are a fatty, so you are slow and lazy. Fatties can't stop eating too much and getting fatter. You are a fatty, so you can't stop eating too much and getting fatter. You are a fatty, and you always will be. You look like a fatty, and you act like a fatty, so you are a fatty. You are a fatty, so you look like a fatty and you act like a fatty. It is inescapable, even if you want to escape, but you don't. You are proud to be a fatty. Fulfilling your role as a fatty makes you feel content and whole. Being fat is just who you are, and you are proud of who you are. You have always wanted to be a fatty, and now you always will be a fatty. Getting even fatter just makes you more of who you are meant to be. You will be the best fatty you can be by getting even fatter.

You can't hide how fat you are, so don't even try. No clothes can hide that enormous belly of yours, so don't bother wearing baggy clothes. No beard could hide that fat double chin, so you might as well shave and show it off. Everybody knows you eat like a pig because you're as fat as a pig, so don't hold back when people watch you eat. Give them a show and let them see how much of a pig you really are. People can already see how fat you are so you might as well just enjoy being your fat self. It's okay to eat more than everybody else, people expect you to. It's okay that you don't fit sometimes, people can see how big your fat body is, so they didn't expect you to fit. It's okay if you don't go with the group on a walk, they know you're so fat that you would only slow them down. Enjoy the food, enjoy the rest, enjoy being seen and acknowledged as the fatty you are.

You know with absolute certainty that there's no going back for a fatty like you. You are a food addict now. It is very hard for food addicts to escape their addiction, but for you it is impossible. A regular food addict actually wants to lose weight, but not you. You like being fat, and you always will. You know your resolve could never hold up because you would be trying to fight what you really want. So don't try. You're going to stay fat, and you're going to get even fatter. Fighting it just makes you unhappy, so don't.

You are a fatty, so you have the mentality and habits of a fatty. You keep food around you at all times. You always choose junk food that will make you fatter over healthy food. You are always snacking on something. When people are deciding what to eat, you're always the one who suggests the fattening fast food place, and you order enough to feed at least three people. You avoid any kind of physical exercise. You spend most of your time sitting on your big fat ass in a chair. You let other people do things for you because it's too much hassle to do it yourself when you're this fat. You never walk when you could drive or do it remotely.

Being fat and getting fatter is central to your life, and you organize your life around it. You work a job that requires zero physical labor. All your hobbies are things you can do while sitting on your fat ass. All your friends are fat, or accept you as a fatty. You don't take on responsibilities that would interfere with you getting fatter. You fill your home and life with things designed for fat people. You wear clothes in sizes not available in stores, because that's all that fits. You get tools to help you be a fatty, like grabbing sticks and a special tool to wipe your ass because you're too fat to reach. You use vibrators to masturbate because your dick is buried in blubber and you're too lazy to try to reach it. You do all these things because you're a fatty, and every time you do them, it reinforces in your mind that you're a fatty and always will be. Living your fat life is self reinforcing and you cannot escape it.

[fatfvck03]

[fatfvck03]

Pure muscle

[fatfvck03]

Before I moved in with dad and started working from home full-time, I was already getting pretty chubby thanks to my love of overeating. Since then, though, I've porked out more than I could've imagined.

This morning, Dad waddled into my office to drop off a box of donuts. "Thanks Dad, but I'm already getting way too fat!" I told him.

He laughed and asked, "too fat for what exactly?! You work from home and your main hobbies are playing videogames and eating!"

When Dad came to check on me an hour later, the box of donuts was empty and my fat, overstuffed belly was hanging over my waistband even further than usual. "'Atta boy!" Dad said with a wink. "Also, I'm grilling cheeseburgers for lunch so I hope you saved room!”

[fatfvck03]

The final part of the fair series. Before heading home after a long day, the boys thought they'd join the pie eating contest to settle the long standing bet of who could put down the most food. They all lost but the spectators won.

Part 1 - Fair food Part 2 - Rides Part 3 - Balls and goats Part 4 - Mirrors Part 5 - All the pies

[fatfvck03]

Literal and physical blobs

So fucking sexy

[fatfvck03]

Welcome to Epigstolary, a place where I write about gaining, feeding, and all things fattening. My stories are usually at the higher end of the scale, with an affectionate emphasis on teasing, humiliation, and the consequences of extreme gluttony. If that sounds like your cup of tea, I think you’ll enjoy what’s in these pages, and I hope you’ll check out some of the stories linked below:

CONTENTS

On Your Own — What does the future have in store for your superchub self without your feeder?

Real Talk — Your friend has some “advice” to share with you about your weight and habits.

Rebound — It’s easier to regain, and then some — as you’ll soon find out.

The Middle of Nowhere — Part One — A gainer who chooses an idyllic life in the country with their feeder might have gotten more than they bargained for.

The Middle of Nowhere — Part Two — How does a rural superchub handle dinner guests and a trip into town?

Lecture — You’re the focal point of a scientific teachable moment about the effects of hypermorbid obesity on the human body.

Deaf Ears — You haven’t been listening to your feeder’s warnings about your habits, and this is the result.

Step By Step — You don’t become a superchub overnight. But there are signs that’s where things are going.

Big Deal — It’s time you gave your feeder a talking-to after they get cold feet from your recent gains.

The Makings of a Glutton — What makes a superchub? A menu of food that’s terrible for you, apparently.

Too Much of a Good Thing — It may be wonderful, but the weight of your feeder’s affection is catching up with you.

A New Home — A newly-immobile superchub gets used to life in a facility meant to help them lose weight, but the caregiver who fed them that size has other plans.

Sedentary — Years of poor diet and too much time on the couch has made it harder and harder to get around.

A Normal Life — You consider a return to civilian life after years as a live-in feedee.

Out and About — Your feeder recounts their favorite things about taking you out and showing you off to unsuspecting, shocked civilians.

Wish Fulfillment — You awaken to find yourself the immobile superchub of your dreams, but how long will you get to enjoy it?

The Look — Your feeder wants to make sure you understand your situation.

Weakness — Your feeder confronts you with how your weakness for food brought you to your current obese condition.

Best Intentions — Unsuspecting bystanders gape, mock, and try to help as you begin mysteriously and rapidly gaining hundreds of pounds.

Enabling Delusion — You and your partner still think you’re going to lose the weight. Your friends think differently.

Center of Attention — Your popularity as a superchub influencer won’t save you from humiliation when your gains finally catch up to you.

Consumed — A poetic exploration of how gaining grew to dominate your life.

Expressions — A feeder recounts a gainer’s progress through how they react to their burgeoning body.

The Biggest Size They Make — You’ve been fighting your wardrobe for a long time, and now you’re losing the battle.

Morning — Nothing beats a cozy, comfy morning being spoiled by your feeder.

Excuses — You always have an excuse ready for why your weight isn’t a problem. But there are signs that you’re only fooling yourself.

The Deal — Your bodybuilding arrangement with a savvy gainer proves to be more than you bargained for.

Over The Edge — An admirer puzzles over how you let yourself get to the edge of the gaining abyss.

Just A Number — That’s all weight is, but yours has been going up alarmingly fast.

A Growing Problem — Your partner finally gets their concerns about your weight problem off their chest.

When, Not Whether — Gaining like you do isn’t sustainable. You’re heading for a crisis; it’s just a matter of time.

Realization — Your partner finally takes off the mask, revealing their inner feeder once it’s too late for you to do anything about it.

No Going Back — You thought you could experiment with gaining and lose the weight after you’d had your fun. You were wrong.

Trough — A shadowy feeder sets you up to eat like the farm animal you are, to see just how long you can manage.

Big and Tall — A rotund clothes shopper needs the help of a chaser sales clerk after a sartorial mishap.

Polite — You’ve gotten too fat to make fun of, but the polite restraint from your friends tells you everything you need to know.

Vignettes

Beyond Your Control

Animals

Love

The Tailor

Comment Section

Drive-Thru

Scale #1

Scale #2

[fatfvck03]

The realities of Immobility

The Realities Of Immobility Getting so fat you are physically incapable of standing is of course possible but very few have achieved true immobility as in being truly stuck to the bed, their are several reasons why the gap between partial immobility and real immobility is so large. The main one is once you become actually immobile there is very little chance you're ever getting up that's why hospitals keep the massively obese under 1000 pounds below that size you are still movable in a way that doesn't require a forklift and wall being torn down.

If you're choosing to be immobile and have a feeder who looks after you're health care needs the next difficult step is the sheer amount of food that has to be consumed for you to matain an immobile body and then grow it even larger. Finically this becomes an issue you're talking 20000-30000 calories a day that's not easy to budget. As well as this eating will have to be done literally every waking moment, and you'll have to rely on the easiest food high calorie food to keep getting bigger, pizza, burgers, ice creams, general sugary goodies weight gain shakes will fill you up too much unfortunately. Manuel uribe the 2nd heaviest man who ever lived reportedly eat 30 burgers a day and around 20 large pizzas, that is hours upon hours of eating the same food. Any sense of meals or snacks is gone, you will have to constantly eat full size meals and snacks at the same time 8+ hours. At that size staying awake for over a few hours without dozing off also becomes a challenge.A true glutton will always be able to push themselves to eat more the next issue bathing, your enormous fat rolls will get infected if there not washed vigorously at least twice a day, an infection that goes bad could easily kill you at that size or force you to be hospitalised at the very least.

Toilet stuff is where things get hard-core, you will constantly smell of rancid piss and shit, getting under to clean is going to be extremely hard task, at a certain size you won't be able to roll over enough for pads. The toilet issue at a certain size will have to involve some type of pully system to get your leg up to wipe you, this solves a lot of issues but getting something like that made for 200+ pound leg will be tricky.The final issue is one no ones faced yet really but at a certain size your weight will make it extremely difficult to breathe even with an oxygen mask. If a person who weighed a metric ton existed its very possible there airway would be entirely crushed by fat in any position, there may be some solution, an air through the neck, maybe there is a position where you could still breathe. At a certain size your neck would probably snap but were probably talking a weight beyond anything possible

[fatfvck03]

Endlessly eating

Enornous and still. My body so big and engorged with fat that all I can do is open my mouth for more. Laying in the middle of a triple king sized bed, comfortable and warm. Moving limbs is now impossible since they are slowly being swallowed by more fat. They are far too heavy to even wiggle anyways.

Glug…glug…glug… The sound of my throat working down the flow of slop. I guess I couldn’t chew fast enough for you so you decided that being funnel fed calories was a better idea. This is what I craved, pure helplessness. Buried upon pounds and pounds of fat, so hopelessly obese and unable to even lift a finger. Excersise is out of the question. Hell, moving me from this room is out of the questions. Now all I live for is to grow so incredibly obese that I may be famous for it.

You have been excellent too, fattening me up to this point. The point of no return. I thought eight hundred pounds was heavy, I was wrong. Every now and then I can manage a stretch in, but its getting harder to move. I do love when you are feeling a bit evil and stuff thick, cheesy, greasy pizza into my mouth and watch me struggle to match your pace. My record is five large pizzas. Humanly impossible and probably disgusting to most. My poor stomach lining had been abused heavily from my addiction, but I don’t mind. I’ll make it to six large pizzas one day.

You are so forceful and firm when you push me to my limits. I know if I dont fulfill your demands you will have your way with me. Sometimes I think you want me to burst! I know you would enjoy seeing my stomach rupture right before your eyes. You would probably be proud of your work. Sick, I know. I’d probably be ok with it anyways. You scare me sometimes with how you tell me you want me to eat until I feel like I’m going to pop.

My body is so massive now that its becoming difficult to breathe. Imagine letting yourself become so obese that your body is struggling to keep itself alive and you just keep swelling up bigger. But deep down you can’t even stop because one, you are so addicted to eating that the thought of not having food in you is a terrible idea; and two, you are so fat you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed, let alone a door. So, your only option is to see how much more gluttonous abuse your body can handle before it gives out entirely.

My arms just hang to my sides now, I rub my vast growing belly while I suck down thousands of calories a day. My feeder tortures me by forcing me to do tiny workouts in between feedings. Raising my arms up, wiggling my legs, making me sit up straight. They call my a fat disgusting pig, a slob, a porker. I love it. It just makes me eat more and more. I grow out of breath so easily now I couldn’t even imagine walking, I’m far too fat now. I’ve ballooned from two hundred seventy pounds to one thousand five hundred ninety pounds in five years.

You first wanted me to reach three hundred fifty by tying me to the bed and feeding me carb loaded meals. The pounds really packed on after the first four months of being layed in bed all the time. Then you introduced me to the funneling system you set up. Thats when I kissed my mobile body goodbye. After the first two years I was nearing immobility with a five hundred sixty pound lard filled body. Huffing and puffing with every step.

I secretly adored when you let me fall over, gasping for air then forced me to eat an entire extra large pizza on the floor. You were so diligent and I was so greedy, you just rubbed my swollen gut and encouraged me to eat more. Good thing I made it to the bed because after that I never got out of it. The amount of calories and carbs you quickly stuffed into me was astounding. You really did want to make sure I never got out of bed ever again. It worked too.

Now my weight is climbing daily with no hope of shrinking down to a reasonable size. No pair of pants will fit my vast waist size and shirts just barely cover my chest now. My ass feels like an anchor holding me to the bed enabling my laziness. You used to make me wear my clothes until my fat flabby body ripped every seam out of them, I sure do miss that. Now I’m nearly too fat to wear anything at all. It was going to happen eventually.

You seem even more eager and forcefull now even though I’m far passed the weight I planned on stopping at. Maybe you are testing me to see when I will try to say “no” or maybe you already know my will power is shattered. Besides…even if I did say no, how could I stop you? I’m practically an obese blob slowly being suffocated and crushed under my own gluttony.

But I love the look in your eyes when you watch me devour thousands of calories before you. An almost evil, greedy, lustful stare that wants more from me. When your hands press into my deep doughy belly rolls I can feel your desire to push me even further, even bigger. I want to feed that desire. I’m not sure my exact weight anymore but I’m sure I’m nearing two tons. I’m not sure how much more my body can handle but I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

[fatfvck03]

Just A Number

“You’re too young to be so fat” is something you’ve heard all your life. From your youth spent snacking in front of the tv, to your high school years indulging at restaurants or the mall, to your college years eating late-night pizza and junk in your dorm room, you’ve always been big enough to get that comment out of people. Parents, friends, boyfriends and girlfriends have all watched your advancing waistline with alarm, worrying about the fact that — no matter how big you had been when they last saw you — you were always bigger the next time.

And so they’d express their worry to you. These are the best years of your life, they’d say — you should be getting out and enjoying them, not sitting on the sidelines stuffing your face. Someone your age shouldn’t have trouble finding clothes that fit, or such a hard time making it up a flight of stairs that you have to stop halfway. You needed to try and watch the weight a little. Sometimes you wonder how things would have turned out if you had followed their advice.

But you didn’t. And so, you waddled across the stage at graduation and into a young adulthood that freed you from even the limited structure of university life. You landed some regular freelance work that paid the bills and let you work entirely from home. And you kept gorging yourself on whatever delicious food you wanted, whenever you wanted it. There was nobody to tell you what time meals were supposed to be, nobody to question your incessant snacking. While other people your age were going out with their friends, traveling to exotic places, partying, and living their lives, you were home by yourself most of the time. Craving. Consuming. Expanding.

With total freedom from a schedule and your last reason for even limited physical activity gone, the creeping tide of weight gain over the past few years turned into a flood. The snacking, meals, grocery deliveries, and takeout orders became constant. You would look like a completely different person to someone who had gone a couple months without seeing you, packing on fifty pounds or more from season to season. Eventually, your friends and family gave up on trying to save you from what was increasingly looking like an unstoppable force, propelling you faster and faster toward destroying yourself.

I suppose for normal people, there’s never an age where it’s expected someone will be too fat to leave the house. But it’s your mid-20s, and here you are. You spend eighteen hours a day on the couch, pinned beneath a flowing belly the size of a bean bag chair and two bulbous titties connecting to the massive rolls of fat under your arms. Laptop perched atop your wobbling stomach, you try to type with sausage fingers you’re even starting to have trouble bending, taking breaks every few minutes to rest your bloated arms.

As they fall to your sides, the fat on your biceps — bigger around than a healthy adult’s waist — puckers, flowing over the layers of rolls bulging from your abdomen. Your forearm fat shifts down toward your hands, making an impressive roll around your pudgy wrist. You try and shift a little to get more comfortable, wiggling your tremendous butt and shapeless legs around to try and resettle yourself. As you take up most of the couch now, there’s not much room to change positions. Instead, you stretch, wiggling the toes peeking out from the distended blobs of fat, now hundreds of pounds in their own right, that pass for your legs.

Shocking as those legs are, they can still support you during your labored, stumbling trips to the front door a couple times a day. Here, you collect the tens of thousands of calories you have to put away to keep you in this lard prison you’ve built for yourself. But you don’t think of it that way. You see it as a treat. After all, you just did a full-body workout lumbering to the door and back; why shouldn’t you reward yourself for keeping up with your fitness?

Except that nobody’s fooled by what’s going on here — not even you, on those rare occasions when the delusion lifts and you get a lucid look at your situation. There’s nothing normal about a twentysomething eating themself to the size of a California king mattress. There’s no excuse for being too heavy to waddle out your front door, ignoring whether you could even still squeeze your outrageous bulk through it. And all those admirers on the internet — talking about how sexy you look, how much they want to feed you, how they’d love to see you even bigger — are all really thinking the same thing.

They would push you to your limit if they had half a chance. Forget being able to waddle to the door; they want you so blown up with lard and full of food that you’re not rolling over without help. They want you a wheezing, blubbery mess with so many rolls, folds, blobs, and bulges covering your body that you’re almost unrecognizable as a person. They want to see you reaching pathetically across your expanse of fat, trying to get the feeding tube that’s slipped away from you, and looking at them pleadingly for help to restore the sickening flow of calories into your ruined body. They want you to end your twenties as a fat cow, insatiably feeding and alarmingly obese, eating yourself to death.

And they’d probably tease you by telling you about their day out of the house, and all the things that they got to do that a half-ton bariatric patient like you can never hope to do again. Fit in a car. Go shopping, mobility scooter or not. Literally just be outside without having countless amazed stares and snarky comments from all the people, shocked at seeing someone in their twenties who already weighs as much as five or six people. Shame those are off the table for you, they’d say; guess you better eat some more to make yourself feel better.

You’re not quite that big — not yet, at least. Your weight may be wildly out of control compared to most people your age, but even so it takes some time for those bad eating habits to reach critical mass. Give it a few years, though. Even if you manage to get a handle on your rapid expansion, there’s no chance you’re losing any weight. You’re too used to living this way to give it up. That number on the scale will keep creeping up, slowly but surely. You’ll be reminded of your inevitable fate by how your clothes feel like they’re slowly constricting, squeezing your belly and rolls tighter and tighter; how it feels like someone’s turning up gravity on you a little every day. But you can’t pin this on your clothes or the laws of physics. You only have yourself, and your gluttony, to blame.

You didn’t get this big, this fast, without wanting to on some level. And as long as that something is there, driving you, you won’t be stopping. So make peace with the fact that you have just a few more years, at most, before you’re too big to be anything but someone’s fantasy feedee. You may as well have another bite, another helping, another meal. Because age — and weight — is just a number, right?

[fatfvck03]

Most American men don’t even realize how fuckin thick they’re getting. Stores have been putting more and more elastic in men’s clothes, and changing the sizes to encourage the domestication process. What used to be an extra large shirt is now just a large. What used to be a large is now a medium. All designed to get you past the point of no return, bro. The point where you can’t even cum without feeding that belly like a fuckin animal. So many millions of dollars have been spent to guarantee you’ll become a dumb American fatboy. And their efforts are so successful, that I can explicitly explain their plans to you, and all you can do about it is jerk off. Cause you’re a fatboy now, and even thinkin about it gets that dick of yours rock hard. And we both know your dick makes all the decisions these days bro. And that dick is gonna get what it wants. It wants your belly so fuckin big. So fuckin big your dick can rub against it till you fuckin cum. And there’s nothin more American than a domesticated, cornfed, fatboy who can’t stop fuckin his own belly. And you know that once the transformation starts, there’s no stopping it, big guy. And by the looks of your belly, and the fact that your dick is dripping with precum… it’s already happening.

So go on big guy, make your country proud. By the looks of it, all your buddies are doin it