gaineraiart

[gaineraiart]

[gaineraiart]

Warren Davis inspired - Fatburger

Behind the counter at McDonald's, Vance wiped down the sticky surface, his mind wandering to Bryce, the latest gainer to frequent the restaurant. Bryce, a massive 900-pound behemoth, was Vance's personal project, a gluttonous pig to mold and shape. His 9XL clothes were always a struggle, his shirt strained to contain his bulging gut.

Vance had taken Bryce under his wing, feeding him triple burgers, large fries, and endless milkshakes during his shifts. Bryce's belly grew with each meal, his rolls of fat jiggling with every step. Vance loved the sight of his customer struggling to move, his bulk making every action a laborious effort.

Tonight, Vance had a special surprise for Bryce. He scooped a towering pile of burgers, fries, and onion rings onto a tray, carrying it to Bryce's table with a grin. "Eat up, piggy," he purred, as Bryce's eyes widened at the feast. In mere minutes, Bryce had devoured half, his belly bulging precariously.

Vance slid into the booth, his hand reaching for Bryce's quivering gut. "Time for the main course," he murmured, guiding Bryce to the restaurant's kitchen. The greasy air enveloped them, making Bryce's already flushed skin glisten with sweat. Vance pulled Bryce into a sitting position, then reached for a towering stack of burgers and fries, shoveling them into Bryce's mouth.

"Chew, piggy, chew," Vance coaxed, Bryce's jaw working overtime to accommodate the onslaught. Vance's other hand roamed Bryce's belly, squeezing and kneading the blubbery mass, relishing the feel of it. Bryce's groans of pleasure only spurred Vance on, his cock hardening at the sight of the gainer's bloated midsection.

Once satisfied, Vance slid Bryce onto the floor, his massive frame struggling to fit between the cabinets. Bryce's pants were no match for his girth, the fabric splitting like a zipper under stress. Vance knelt beside him, his fingers tracing the creases and folds of Bryce's gut, savoring the warmth emanating from the living mountain of blubber.

With a wicked gleam, Vance positioned Bryce under the ice cream machine, the cold metal a stark contrast to Bryce's scorching skin. He fired it up, the smooth, creamy concoction pouring directly into Bryce's awaiting maw. Bryce's cheeks hollowed as he drank, the machine's contents filling him to the brim.

Vance worked Bryce's jaw, forcing the milkshakes down his throat, the weight of Bryce's belly pushing against his hand with each gulp. The machine whirred, Bryce's belly expanding, his 9XL shirt now a distant memory. Vance played with Bryce's nipples, pinching and tugging as Bryce's eyes rolled back in bliss.

Finally, the machine sputtered to a stop, Bryce's belly a churning, quivering mass of frozen treat. Vance pulled out a thick, juicy cock and plunged it into Bryce's stretched, drooling mouth. Bryce's throat bobbed as he sucked, the feeder's length disappearing into his gullet. Vance took his time, fucking Bryce's face, his hips thrusting in a primal rhythm.

As Bryce's eyes glazed over, Vance pulled out, his cock slick with saliva. He positioned himself behind Bryce, gripping the gainer's massive hips as he entered his ass with a grunt. Bryce's gut wobbled and jiggled with each thrust, the ice cream making the gainers hole slick and hot.

Vance pounded Bryce mercilessly, his balls slapping against the gainer's bloated belly. Bryce moaned, his face a mask of ecstasy, the ice cream machine's hum a chilling counterpart to his own ragged breathing. Vance's orgasm crashed over him, his seed flooding Bryce's bowels as he collapsed onto his prize. Bryce's belly heaved with Bryce's panting, the ice cream machine still running, its contents dripping onto the floor beneath Bryce's lap.

"Stay here," Vance commanded, as he pulled out and zipped up his pants. "You're never leaving this place, piggy. You're McDonald's newest fixture, and I'll keep you fat and happy, forever." Bryce's only response was a groggy nod, his belly a living, breathing thing, a swollen testament to Vance's dominance.

And so, Vance continued his twisted routine, preparing Bryce's meals, shoveling food into his maw, and fucking his guts until Bryce was immobile, a human milkshake machine. The ice cream machine's hum became a constant, a reminder of Bryce's new purpose - to be Vance's forever gainer, a bloated, cum-filled plaything. Vance's cock throbbed at the thought, already planning their next encounter.

As the sun set, Vance locked up, leaving Bryce slumped against the kitchen wall, a mountain of blubber and a never-ending appetite. The restaurant would never be the same, transformed into a shrine to Vance's insatiable hunger for gainer pigs. And Bryce, Vance's prized possession, would remain, a glorious monument to the feeder's depravity, forever trapped in a world of calories and desire. Vance's car drove away, leaving Bryce to await the next feeding, the next degradation, the next step in his descent into gluttony.

In the darkness, Bryce's belly rumbled, a promise of the endless gainer life to come. He was a McDonald's fixture now, a living, breathing burger, and he couldn't wait to be stuffed again. Vance was right - he'd never leave. This was his new home, and he was content in his role as a feeder's fat, happy pig. The ice cream machine hummed its final notes, a lullaby to Bryce's sloth-like form, as Vance disappeared into the night, already dreaming of the next time he'd mold Bryce into a chubbed mess beneath the golden arches. Bryce's belly rose and fell with each labored breath, a symphony of gainer life, as the restaurant faded to black, a monument to the insatiable hunger that united them.

[gaineraiart]

This is my favorite ! I love the music ! Did you write the lyrics ?

https://www.tumblr.com/gaineraiart/785500723184074752/eat-yourself-to-you-fat-pig?source=share

Yes, I write the lyrics. 🐽🐽🐽

[gaineraiart]

Sloppy Gainer Hypno

Let me know what you want to hear more of, fat pigs.

[gaineraiart]

Eat yourself to 💀 you fat pig!!

Gainer Hypno audio to eat yourself fatter to. Oink and eat piggy.

[gaineraiart]

Immobile Fuckable Trailer Park Pig

Inside the trailer, Jesse's immobility was absolute, his 800-pound bulk pressed against the worn couch, every breath a labored struggle. His XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXL pants had given up the ghost long ago, leaving his bloated, hairless gut exposed to the elements. The only movement came from his eyes, which followed every twitch of his feeder's muscles.

Fit and athletic, Brock had taken a liking to Jesse's bloated form, finding endless pleasure in the glutton's relentless growth. He'd often visit, bringing armfuls of junk food and soda, feeding Jesse until his belly bulged obscenely, the fabric of his XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXL shirt straining to contain the expanding mass.

Tonight, Brock had something special planned. He laid Jesse back, his massive frame jostling the couch, and straddled his hips, his bulge evident against Jesse's thru negligible belly fat. With a wicked grin, he slid a thick, gnarled cock into Jesse's mouth, reveling in the sloppy, desperate suckling.

"Take it all, piggy," Brock grunted, fingers digging into Jesse's fleshy cheeks as he face-fucked the immobile gainer. Jesse moaned around the invading meat, his throat bulging with each thrust. As Brock's climax built, he pulled free, leaving Jesse gasping and drooling.

Next, Brock moved lower, burying his face in Jesse's cavernous gut, inhaling the musky scent of excess. He licked and sucked the wrinkled skin, savoring the taste of Jesse's chub, his tongue delving into the folds of fat. Jesse shuddered, his belly quivering beneath Brock's ministrations.

Finally, Brock positioned himself at Jesse's quivering asshole, the feeder's dick a speck against Jesse's massive, pale expanse. With a grunt, Brock pushed forward, his thick shaft disappearing into Jesse's depths with a wet squelch. Jesse's gut wobbled and jiggled as Brock pumped his hips, the feeder's balls slapping against his bloated belly. The trailers walls shook with each brutal thrust, the sounds of Brock's pleasure and Jesse's grunts filling the air.

Brock claimed Jesse's ass with reckless abandon, relishing the tight, hot grip around his shaft. Jesse's fat had tamed the once-slippery hole, rendering it a snug tunnel for Brock's cock. The feeder's hands roamed Jesse's massive gut, squeezing and kneading the blubbery mass with gleeful abandon.

As Brock neared his peak, he reached for another can of soda, pouring the fizzy liquid onto Jesse's belly. The carbonated drink seeped into the folds of fat, making Jesse's skin dance and ripple. With a roar, Brock buried himself to the hilt, his cum flooding Jesse's bowels as the trailer's ceiling creaked under the force of his thrusts. Jesse's eyes rolled back in bliss, his belly a live, squirming thing beneath Brock's assault.

Panting, Brock collapsed atop Jesse, his sweaty, muscular back a stark contrast to the sea of blubber. "You're the perfect pig, Jesse," he purred, stroking Jesse's cheek with a calloused hand. "I'll keep you fat and happy, forever." Jesse's only response was a contented grunt, his belly heaving with Brock's restless breathing.

In this twisted dance of feeder and gainer, they found their nirvana - a world where excess reigned supreme, and the gluttony never ended. As Brock dressed and prepared to leave, Jesse's belly rumbled, a promise of the next feeding to come. He was a captive to his hunger, and Brock was his lord and master, molding him into the ultimate gainer. The trailer creaked and groaned, a monument to their depraved twisted love, as Jesse's belly continued to churn and gurgle, a living testament to their dark desires. The feeder's parting gift was a bag of donuts, which Jesse devoured in record time, the sugar sending his heart racing as he drifted off to sleep, his XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXL belly rising and falling with each labored breath.

In the darkness, Jesse dreamed of Brock's cock, of the endless stream of calories, of being a human storage unit, a fucktoy for the feeder to play with. He was a gainer, through and through, forever bound to a life of gluttony and submission. And he couldn't wait to see what new depths of fatness Brock would push him towards. For now, he'd lie there, a mountain of blubber, his belly a throbbing, needy organ, aching for the feeder's return. The trailer's walls seemed to whisper his name, a constant reminder of his purpose - to be fed, to be fattened, and to serve as Brock's compliant, chubbed plaything. Jesse's gut rumbled once more, a promise of the next feeding, the next degradation, the next step into his new, larger life. He was a gainer, in every sense of the word, and he wouldn't have it any other way. 😈🏠👊🏼💪🏼

[gaineraiart]

Dark Gainer Hypno Encouragement/ Degradation

Have fun eating yourself fatter to this pigs!

[gaineraiart]

Nothing like a helping hand to help a fat slob get bigger.

[gaineraiart]

The Biggest Loser - Gainer Fiction

On the set of The Biggest Loser, something was amiss. The trainers had grown tired of the predictable cycle of weight loss and wanted to shake things up. Instead of helping their contestants shed pounds, they hatched a sinister plan to fatten each one up, manipulating them into a gainer lifestyle.

Michael, the season's heaviest contestant, was their guinea pig. Each day, they sabotaged his diet with high-calorie treats, sneaking donuts in his gym bag and pumping his water with weight gainer shakes and Boost VHC. They emphasized strength training, knowing the extra muscle would only add to his already considerable girth.

As the weeks passed, Michael ballooned, his success measured not in pounds lost, but in pounds gained. His 5XL shirt now fit like a snug crop top, his 50" pants a distant memory. His pudgy face grew rounder, his cheeks puffing out with each bite of the trainers' carefully curated cheat meals.

The weigh-ins became the highlight of the week, the trainers gleefully watching as Michael's numbers skyrocketed. They'd mock his expanded waistline, poking and prodding his rolls of fat, as Michael stood humiliated, tears pricking at his eyes. "Look at you, getting even fatter!" they sneered. "You're doing great, Michael - just keep eating you fat fucking pig!"

At home, Michael's self-image crumbled, replaced by a twisted desire for more food, more weight. He'd scour junk food aisles, devouring entire shelves in a single sitting. The trainers' influence seeped into every aspect of his life, until he craved the degradation as much as the calories. His once-rejoiced weekly progress photos now depicted a despairing man, his face obscured by his massive belly.

The show's finale approached, and Michael was a grotesque sight, his 12XL clothes a distant memory, his oversized boxers barely containing him. As the cameras rolled, the trainers gathered around, their faces split with sadistic grins. Michael's weight was announced, 1180lbs a staggering figure that left even the viewers in awe. The trainers clapped and cheered, Michael's tears mingling with the sweat that dripped from his straining skin.

"You did it, Michael," the head trainer cooed, patting his bloated belly. "You've officially become the Biggest Loser." The audience watched in stunned silence, a mix of horror and arousal at the spectacle.

In the aftermath, the trainers took Michael to a private room, their excitement palpable. "You know what comes next, right?" the trainer asked, his hand sliding down Michael's massive gut. "A lifetime of gainer living, of being fed and fattened until you can't move." Michael's only response was a whimper, his body already aching with the knowledge of his new destiny.

As the trainers escorted him away, Michael's bulk threatened to topple the hallway's lighting fixtures. He was a living, breathing monument to their depravity, a pawn in their twisted game. And he would gladly play his part, a fat, obedient piggy, forever hungry and forever fed. The Biggest Loser had become the Biggest Gainer, and no one was more thrilled than the show's sadistic trainers. 👀🏋️‍♂️😈

[gaineraiart]

The bell tolled, signaling the start of the match, but Gage, the 800-pound behemoth, was already defeated - by his own insatiable appetite. In the center of the wrestling ring, a muscular wrestler, Titan, poured weight gainer shakes into Gage's gaping maw, the sheer volume of liquid spilling down his chin and chest.

Titan's strong hands gripped Gage's massive head, forcing the thick, creamy shakes into his mouth, one by one, until Gage's belly bulged obscenely. The crowd roared at the spectacle, a perfect display of dominance - the muscle god, in complete control, feeding the helpless gainer.

As Gage's belly expanded, his movements slowed, his limbs heavy, rendering him immobile. Titan chuckled, admiring his handiwork. "You're nothing but a human storage unit, Gage," he sneered, before climbing onto the mountain of blubber and flexing his muscles. "Maybe one day, you'll be so fat you can't even move for me." Gage's only response was a sloshed, satisfied grunt, accepting his fate as a bloated, muscle-bound plaything. The referee counted to three as Gage lay prone, his fatness eclipsing the mat, a temporary victory for Titan - but a permanent win for their twisted gainer lifestyle. 😂🏋️‍♂️👊🏼

[gaineraiart]

Gainerr Hypno - Healthh Play

[gaineraiart]

Meet Bubba, the 600-pound slob pig from the trailer park, living the ultimate reality TV show - his life is a never-ending binge fest, and he wouldn't have it any other way! Comparing him to those wimpy 600-pounders on My 600-pound Life is like apples and oranges. Bubba's on a whole different level, thanks to his new best friend, Jed, a hunky redneck with a passion for fattening up his trailer park neighbor. Every Sunday, Jed stops by with a truckload of junk food and soda, feeding Bubba like a baby bird, watching in delight as the useless tub of lard grows bigger by the week.

Now, Bubba's so fat he can barely move, let alone leave his recliner. His 10XL pants are held together with duct tape, and his 12XL shirt has given up the ghost entirely, leaving his sagging belly and chest exposed to Jed's lustful gaze. Jed pinches Bubba's wobbly skin, marveling at the squishiness, before shoveling more calories into that gaping maw. It's a beautiful thing, watching this gluttonous pig fatten up into a human-shaped mountain of blubber. Bubba's the ultimate gainer, a fat, happy mess, and Jed's his ultimate enabler. This is what true gluttony looks like! 😂🏠🍔👑

[gaineraiart]

Look at that pathetic excuse for a man, completely immobile and helpless as we force-feed him to his limit. His once-mighty frame has been reduced to a bloated, immobile blob, a toy for us to play with as we see fit. Each pillowy roll of fat, each quivering glob of flesh, is a testament to our dominance over him. He's nothing more than a feeding station, a meaty, helpless mass of desire, and we'll enjoy watching him succumb to his own gluttony. The stark contrast between his useless bulk and our fit, toned physiques is a constant reminder of his status as a fat, chubby plaything. This is what he was made for - to be fed, to be fattened, and to serve as our girthy plaything. And he loves every second of it, the pathetic pig. 😂😈 Immobility suits this fatty piggy well, doesn't it? 🐖👀 Look at him struggle to even lift his head, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. The contrast between his bloated, slovenly frame and the toned, dominant chasers couldn't be more striking. They're the masters, and he's the pliant plaything, existing solely for their depraved pleasure. And just watch that gut expand, growing heavier by the second… Soon he'll be immobile, a mountain of lard with no other purpose than to eat and eat for his feeders. 🐽😈🔥

[gaineraiart]

Kevin's leer deepened as he fed Kirk huge mouthfuls of cake, reveling in the pig's eager responses. "Eat it all, you gluttonous pig!" he commanded, smearing frosting across Kirk's face. Kirk obliged, his cheeks bulging as he devoured the cake with single-minded intensity.

[gaineraiart]

Gym junkies - Gainer Fiction and AI art

It was a typical, bustling day at the local gym. The sounds of grunting, weights clanking, and men's laughter filled the air. Amidst the fitness enthusiasts, a morbidly obese man named Kirk waddled through the doors, his gut wobbling with each heavy step. His size 8XXL shirt and XXXXXXXXL pants stretched taut, barely containing his girth. Kirk was a self-proclaimed 'gainer' who indulged in an insatiable appetite for calories, always seeking out bigger and better ways to fatten himself up.

As Kirk made his way through the crowded room, lustful glances followed his rounded figure. He was a spectacle, a morbidly obese man among chiseled physiques honed from hard work and discipline. Kirk's eyes scanned the gym, searching for the familiar faces he knew would appreciate his girthy presence.

Spotting a cluster of muscular jocks, Kirk made a beeline for them, his heavy breathing audible as he approached. "Hey, boys!" he called out, his voice raspy from decades of disuse. The jocks turned, their eyes widening at the sheer magnitude of Kirk's bulk.

Leading the group was Kevin, a muscular powerhouse in his 30s with a chiseled six-pack, bulging biceps, and a stern demeanor that commanded attention. He assessed Kirk's body, taking in the rolls of fat, sagging skin, and jiggling flesh. Kevin nodded approvingly, his firm lips curling into a smirk. "Well, well, look who's here… our favorite gluttonous piggy. Ready for another feeding, I presume?"

Kirk's eyes lit up, his mouth watering at the thought of the impending feast. "Oh, absolutely! I'm famished today, boys. Feed me!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with desire.

They began rummaging through the gym's snack bar, gathering an assortment of high-calorie treats - energy bars, protein shakes, donuts, and bratwurst sausages. They piled the food onto a massive tray, a testament to Kirk's voracious appetite. "Time to fatten this fatty up, men," Kevin declared, his voice firm and commanding.

With deliberate slowness, they approached Kirk, the aroma of the food wafting enticingly. Grom took a seat on a bench, gesturing for Kirk to sit across from him. "Feed, piggy. Eat until you're stuffed," he ordered, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

Kirk dove into the spread, his chubby fingers grasping and shoveling food into his mouth with barely contained enthusiasm. The jocks watched intently, their own hunger for Kirk's transformation evident in their hungry gazes. As he ate, they began to stroke and squeeze his rolls of flab, kneading the doughy flesh with reverence.

"Such a thick, juicy layer of blubber," one of the jocks purred, massaging Kirk's gut. "You're the perfect canvas for our feeding fun, Kirk." Kirk moaned in pleasure, his eyes rolling back as he savored each bite, his hunger insatiable.

As Kirk devoured the treats, the jocks took turns feeding him, their hands and mouths inventing new ways to deliver calories directly to his eager belly. They smeared peanut butter and honey on his cheeks, letting him lick it off; they fed him mashed potatoes directly from their own mouths, making sure he savored every bite.

Time passed, and Kirk's gut continued to expand, growing heavier with each massive mouthful. His XXXXXXXXL pants grew tighter, the fabric straining against his increasing girth. The room filled with the sounds of muffled chewing, satisfied grunts and moans of pleasure from Kirk as he gorged himself. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his breathing grew labored, but still he ate, driven by the primal need for more. The jocks watched in awe, their own arousal visible in the tight curves of their biceps and the bulge in their gym shorts.

"Enough?" Kevin finally asked, his voice a low rumble as he scrutinized Kirk's bulging midsection. Kirk shook his head, still hungry, his eyes pleading for more. Kevin chuckled, a deep, bass sound that vibrated through his chest.

"Very well, our gluttonous friend. Let's see how much more you can take." The jocks returned with a second round of high-calorie snacks, this time hauling in a large tub of creamy milkshakes and an industrial-sized pizza, replete with extra cheese and pepperoni. As Kirk's capacity for food seemed endless, so did the jocks' creative methods of delivering it. They poured milkshakes directly into his mouth, letting the cold liquid pool on his chin before he lapped it up. They spread thick slices of pizza across his belly, pressing them onto his skin until they melted and absorbed, leaving him greasy and engorged.

The gym echoed with the sounds of Kirk's gluttony - the slurping, smacking, and belches that signified his absolute abandonment to hunger. Kevin and the other jocks worked in tandem, their hands and mouths attacking Kirk's ever-expanding frame, filling him with calorie-dense treats until he was a bloated, shuddering mass of flesh.

Hours passed, and Kirk's transformation was staggering. His XXXXXXXXL pants were now useless, the seams stretched to their breaking point. His XXXXXXXXL shirt was a distant memory, lost under the sheer bulk of his girth. He sat in a puddle of sweat and grease, his face a sticky mess of honey and pizza sauce. The jocks stepped back, admiring their handiwork with a mix of pride and arousal. Kirk was now a bloated, grotesque sight, his belly reaching his knees, his rolls of fat spilling over his thighs, and his chest squashed beneath the mountain of his gut.

Kevin approached, his eyes burning with lust as he caressed Kirk's enormous gut. "Look at you… a perfect, inflated pig, ready for more." He leaned in close, his hot breath fanning over Kirk's sweaty skin. "We'll have to find ways to make you even bigger, Kirk. Perhaps a feed tube or a high-calorie IV drip next time."

Kirk's only response was a guttural moan, his glazed eyes fixated on the jocks. He was a slave to his hunger, and they were his masters, driving him to new heights of girth. As the jocks led him out of the gym, Kirk's progress was slow and laborious, each step an exercise in futility against the weight of his own excess flesh.

Outside, the bright sunlight was a shock to Kirk's sensitive skin, but he barely noticed, his mind consumed by thoughts of the next feeding, the next surge of food, the next expansion of his girth. He knew his life would be filled with this endless cycle of gluttony and growth, and he welcomed it with open arms, or rather, open mouth.

Kevin and the jocks watched Kirk waddle away, their muscles rippling with satisfaction. They had created a masterpiece - a living, breathing monument to gluttony, a fat man hell-bent on consuming himself into immobility. And they would be there every step of the way, guiding his growth, feeding his insatiable hunger, and reveling in the transformation of their favorite, morbidly obese piggy. As the jocks packed up the remnants of their feeding session, laughter filled the air, a mix of pride and sadistic glee. They knew there would be more where this came from, many more opportunities to fatten their prized glutton and mold him into the ultimate gainer. The gym, once a place for fitness and discipline, had become a playground for their twisted desires, a haven for the obese and their enablers.

As the jocks departed, Kevin lingered behind, his eyes never leaving Kirk's retreating form. He whispered a promise to the wind, "You'll be so big, so fat, so useless… and I'll be right there to watch it happen, my dear Kirk." With a satisfied grin, Grom strode away, his chiseled muscles flexing with each step, carrying the seed of their next twisted encounter.

Meanwhile, Kirk trudged home, his heavy footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. His mind swam with visions of feasts to come, of growing bigger and bigger, losing himself in the endless pursuit of calories and growth. Each step was a struggle, but the promise of more food kept him moving, driven by an insatiable hunger that only they could satisfy.

And so, the cycle continued, a dance of gluttony and transformation, as Kirk surrendered to his fate, a willing pawn in the jocks' game of fattening him up for their twisted amusement. He was a fat man's paradise, and they were his cruel, domineering gods, guiding him toward a future of unrelenting girth and submission. In this world of twisted desires, Kirk found his purpose, his calling as a living, breathing monument to excess, forever hungry and forever fed.