#gainer writing

[pecanwriter]

Not Big Enough (WG story)

Themes: fantasy-setting, body worship, fat-centric society

Words: 3053

Part: 1/1

Dainon was freezing to death. He managed to survive another night, huddled behind a smithy, where the furnace's heat radiated through walls, making even the nasty winter in Grothol survivable. His exhaustion was bone-deep. Soul-deep, even. So when he managed to sneak up behind the smithy without anyone noticing, he let himself fall into a deep sleep like a fool. Had he gotten up early, before the smiths started their day, he could squeeze in another few nights in this new hiding spot. But he didn’t get up, he didn’t even try, huddled up next to the warm wall and feeling like a baby in his mother’s womb, he slept on soundly until the very moment strong, calloused hands grabbed him by the rags he called clothes and kicked him out into the main street, where mud was ice. 

He fell into a puddle, the water so unbelievably cold at first he thought it was boiling. Dainon scrambled back to his feet, already shivering. A gust of wind swept through the street, penetrating his rags completely. His trousers were more holes than they were trousers and the patchy shirt was missing one sleeve. Despite his meagre stature, the coat he was wearing was way too small for him, he suspected it might have been made for a youth. Stretching the too-small garment over himself was better than nothing in the dreadful cold, but he could feel the seams coming apart more and more every day, wind and chilled air seeping in and assaulting his malnourished body. 

Dainon was the youngest son of a relatively wealthy merchant from a port town in the south of Grothol. His father was a strict and unyielding man. To his customers, to his workers, and to his children. Dainon’s sister left the house young, got married and had children of her own. His brother joined the army and that was the last time anyone saw him. And so his father’s ambitions about keeping the business in the family came full force down on Dainon. It wasn’t that he necessarily hated commerce, he would just much rather do anything else. When he suggested to his father that maybe he could get an apprenticeship as a kitchen boy to become a cook for a wealthy lord, his father beat the idea of out his head so forcefully that Dainon never dared to voice his opinions again. 

When Dainon turned eighteen, his father decided he was ready to prove himself. He gave Dainon a horse and a cart of goods and sent him on his way to the Gothol’s lavish capital city. “Bring back three times the value of the goods, or don’t come back at all,” his father told him, and Dainon knew without a shadow of a doubt he meant it. 

He made it to the capital, he even managed to make a few transactions that would make his father’s scorn soften. But then, just as he was warming up to his role, Dainon was robbed. They took everything; the goods, the card, the horse, even his shoes. 

There was nothing left for him to sell to gain passage back home, but even if he did, he couldn’t go back. Through spring, summer and autumn he managed to scrape by somehow. There was a lot of commerce everywhere and labour workers who would slave away all day for a piece of bread and a tanker of piss-poor beer were always needed. 

But then came the winter. 

Dainon, dragging his feet, so cold he could barely walk, stumbled into one of the smaller streets where shameful business was conducted. There was a high chance one would get robbed, but he had nothing to be robbed of, and at least they wouldn’t shoo him away like the smiths. Unable to walk any further, so sick and cold he didn’t even know where the icy mud ended and he began, Dainon squeezed himself between two barrels and the side of a gambling house and waited. For death or for an opportunity to rob some drunk fool. Whichever came first.

Doors opened on the opposite side of the street and a group of people stumbled out in a cloud of perfume, smoke and ruckus laughter. 

Dainon’s exhausted, nearly delirious brain made it seem as if the warm light pouring out of the door was pure gold. He stared at the people coming out. 

It was a whore house and a good one from what he heard. The people that emerged appeared to be two whores sending their client on his way. The whores were barely wearing any clothes, seemingly unbothered by the cold. As if enchanted, Dainon stared at the whores. He stared at their plump bodies, round, blushy faces, their smiles and thick, lustrous hair. One was a woman, and one was a man, but he had tits almost as big as she did, resting on top of a big, fleshy belly swaying in front of him proudly. Their thighs jiggled and rubbed against each other as they walked, pushing the drunk client along the street to the stables where his horse presumably waited. 

Dainon’s stomach was so empty he didn’t even remember how food tasted or how it was not to be hungry all the time. Even when he was asleep, he was still completely aware of the fact he was starving. The whores were coming back and Dainon looked at their enormous backsides jiggling, at their side rolls, at their arms so plump and soft their elbows were only dimples. He couldn’t imagine how amazingly rich and filling their meals had to be for them to be so big. Another wave of nauseating hunger and paralyzing cold rattled him so hard he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again the golden light of the brothel was no longer spilling into the street and the whores were gone. Dainon wept, his tears scorching hot on his freezing face. 

The door opened again and the beautiful light spilt out. Another boy was escorting his client to the exit. He was even bigger than the first two; his tits spilling to the sides of his enormous belly and his thighs so thick and fleshy he waddled as he took the few steps to see the client out. 

Dainon stared as the whore waddled back inside and he knew that if he couldn’t see that beautiful overfed body again he would simply die. 

This really was a good brothel, he realised. To have so many well-fed whores? In Gothol fatness was the sign of good fortune and prosperity. The King was expected to go to war, so he was usually lean or muscular, but it was traditional for the King’s consort, be it a woman or a man, to be as fat as possible. The fatter the consort, the more prosperous Gorthol was. Two hundred years ago, there was a plague that nearly threatened to undo the whole country. At that time, the King’s consort was so thin he didn’t even have a belly. Nearly all portraits of him have been destroyed for fear of casting bad fortune over the land again. The upper classes followed this trend diligently, every Lord and Lady stuffed themselves to grow bigger and fatter than their rivals in court. Amongst the lower classes and peasants, it was very uncommon to see someone appropriately fleshy; they couldn’t afford it. The only truly fat, well-fed peasants were whores. The customers spent nearly as much on the services as they spent on the food they bought to keep their whore nice and plump. With a fat, well-fed whore every simple man could feel like a King for a day. 

Driven by a desperate need to survive and with the memory of that golden light filling his heart, Dainon stumbled to the brothel doors. 

A young, slim whore opened the door. His hair was long and orange like the sunset, he cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

“Go away!” He barked “There’s nothing here for the kinds of you!”

“No,  please!” Dainon rasped, his voice scratchy “I want to work. Please, I will do anything. Please.” 

“Go away…” The man started saying again, but a hand with multiple golden rings on each finger ceased his arm and pulled him inside. 

“Move away, Robin, don’t you have something to do?” A woman who was past being middle-aged, but diligently tried to keep up the appearance stood in the door. The rest of her was as richly adorned as her fingers, gold was hanging off her every body part and she seemed to float in a cloud of pipe smoke and perfume. She looked at Dainon with a shrewd, keen eye of a Madam. 

“I want to work, please.” He repeated. 

She looked him over, grabbed his chin, looked at his face from every angle, and then grabbed his arm, examining his skin, its deep umber colour stood out even more against her pinkish fingers. 

“We have enough skinny boys.” She said with finality. 

“I don’t have to be one of the skinny boys!” He blurted out, almost desperately. His merchant senses smelled an opportunity and he grabbed it immediately “You don’t have to pay me! I will work just for food until I’m big enough for you to start making good money on me.” 

She gave him a steady look and Dainon forced himself to not break the eye contact. Her poker face was good, but he could see the change taking place deep inside her mind. The ring-clad hand wrapped around his arm and he was dragged inside, into the golden light. 

“Robin, Cuckoo, wash him and help him get ready to work.” She pushed him towards a pair of whores, the red-haired one from before and another skinny one with ashen blonde hair and pale eyes. “From now on,” She said, giving him one last measuring look “Your name is Starling.” 

And Starling let the young whores lead him deep inside the golden light and warmth of the warehouse. The smell and heat filled him so completely that he felt born anew. 

*

General Forthros jumped off his horse and let out a juicy curse as his boot landed perfectly in a pool of mud.

“Hello, good sir, may I welcome you…” He tossed the reigns to the stable master along with a purse of silver coins. He was in no mood for talk. It’s been way too long and he was prickly with need. It crawled under his skin like slow-acting poison. 

This brothel was way outside of the upper district, but Forthros heard stories. He heard they had whores here like nobody dreamed of; so soft and overfed, with their enormous rumps jiggling, their soft tits resting on top of round bellies, their faces with double chins and round rosy cheeks… 

Just thinking about it made his cock stir, but he had to keep himself in check. The last brothel he heard similar stories about turned out to be ludicrously expensive and the young man they gave him didn’t even waddle. 

None of them were big enough. Just not big enough. 

He dreamed of flesh so soft and filled with fat he could sleep on it as on a pillow after he’d fucked its owner into a whimpering, needy mess. He wanted a whore who would laugh at the feast he brought with him and demanded more food. He needed a whore so fat two others would have to be called to help him stand up. 

Forthros walked across the muddy street and opened the door, stepping out of the grey, dirty world and into a land of gold, potency and sweet smells. 

“Welcome!” A woman appeared as if out of nowhere, her hands and wrist so completely covered by gold jewellery that her skin was visible only from elbows up. “We haven’t seen you before in my fantastic establishment, Lord.” She said, not able to keep the glint of greed out of her eyes as she eyed his expensive clothes and the massive basket filled to the brim with lavish, expensive foods only made in the upper city. “How can I serve you? I have everything you could wish for, every girl and every boy the absolute best quality!”

He gave her an unimpressed look. She rubbed her hands, visibly slightly worried, but not dropping her selling pitch. She pressed on:

“Will it be a girl or a boy you’d be wanting, my Lord?” 

“I want a boy. The biggest one you have.” He said. “Money is no object.” 

Her eyes were ablaze with opportunity. 

“Of course, my Lord!” She bowed deeply. “Boy, fetch Swan.” She ordered the scrawny servant. He took off down the corridor. 

Swan was appropriately named; he was tall and pale, with a long neck and rosy lips. He had a soft chest and a flabby belly, he was smiling coquettishly. Forthros stopped him with a hand. 

“Not big enough.” He said. 

The Madam shooed Swan away and he retreated with a pout. 

“Bring me Blue Jay, boy!” She ordered the servant. 

Blue Jay was likewise appropriately named; he had some Djinn blood in him which was evident by his bright blue skin and navy blue hair woven into two thick braids. He sauntered over, shaking his big, round gut and plushy thighs. Forthros was intrigued but he was just…

“Not big enough.” He repeated and the Madam tsked but shooed the Djinn’s bastard away. 

“Bring Sparrow, be quick about it!” She snapped and the servant ran. 

Sparrow was brown-skinned and brown-eyed. His tits were big and soft, falling on top of a prominent, soft belly that swayed in front of him as he walked. His legs were thick and swollen, and Forthros' dick hardened as he saw him waddle up. This one was beautiful, but…

“Not. Big. Enough.” He said, looking the Madam right in the eyes. 

A sly, appreciative smile spread across her face. She slapped Sparrow’s jiggly ass, sending him away. 

“I see you are a connoisseur.” She said, bowing in acknowledgement. “Follow me.” 

He followed. They passed an open room full of whores killing time, waiting for clients. He spotted Sparrow sprawled on a mountain of pillows, idly popping sugar-coated grapes into his mouth. Forthros’ cock stirred again. If the Madam’s most priced possession didn’t prove to be satisfactory, he’d come back for Sparrow. 

The madam stopped in front of a door and opened it with a flourish. 

“This,” she said theatrically “is Starling. But he’s not cheap.” 

Forthros had to rest a hand against the door to keep himself upright, almost dropping the feast in the basket to the floor. He put it down with reverence at his feet and fished a purse out from his inside pocket, tossing it blindly at the Madam, still unable to look away from the sight before him. There was more coin in the purse that she probably made off all her whores in a day and they both knew it.

“Enjoy, Lord.” She bowed deeply and closed the door behind herself. 

The man on the bed, Starling, was a vision out of a dream. No, he was more beautiful than any dream Forthros ever had. 

He had dark umber skin that seemed covered with scented oils and perfumes that floated around the room. His dark hair was curled and adorned with gold, and two enormous emeralds hung on his ears. He was so big his hips spanned almost the entire width of the bed. Forthros took in the beautiful flesh, overstuffed to the brim with fat and folding on itself in fascinating, enchanting ways. Starling’s legs were shapeless as if formed of hefty sacks of jiggly fat folding in on themselves with the swollen feet at the end that Forthros doubted touched the floor often. The beautiful legs were spread wide to accommodate the gargantuan mass of Starling’s belly, that pooled in front of him like a see of soft flesh. Forthros couldn’t see a belly button but he guessed it was buried deep underneath fat where the upper and lower fat fold of Starling’s belly met. His breasts were blubbery and saggy, pushed to the sides by the improbable accumulation of soft flesh on Starling’s midriff. The nipples were dark and stretched and Forthros could feel his entire body tingling. Starling’s robust arms rested at almost acute angles to his body, unable to land any lower for the numerous chunky fat folds pushing outwards at his sides. His shoulders and chest were so thoroughly encased in fat he almost had no neck. His face was round, with incredible, fleshy cheeks and multiple chins. 

This was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man Forthros had ever seen, but what struck him most, was the man’s face. He was beautiful, of course, with a slightly hunched nose and wide-set dark eyes. But that wasn’t what it was, still. The striking thing was the expression on that angelic face. His plump lips were stretched into a smirk that seemed to hold all the secrets of the world in it and the dark eyes that stared at Forthros from underneath dark, heavy lashes were sharp like a fox’s. Quick wits and shrewdness were immediately apparent in that gaze. That, and immense satisfaction. Just his face alone seemed to be saying “I am everything you ever wanted and I know it.” 

The biggest whore he had before this, many years ago, was somewhere between Sparrow’s and Starling’s size, he was beautiful but the food had dulled his mind. His eyes were always glazed over, sleepy, almost unresponsive; he saw this happen to some people when the food was too much for their bodies to handle and they seemed almost dim-witted. Although that man was beautiful, Forthros couldn’t bring himself to fuck him, he didn’t want to fuck someone who barely knew what was happening. 

But Starling… Starling was perfect. 

Forthros swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, his cock almost painfully hard.

“I’ve brought you a feast, beautiful.” He said, hauling the enormous basket overflowing with the greatest delicacies Grothol had to offer to the bed. “I hope such a feast is to your liking?” 

Starling looked at the basket and then, looking straight into Forthros’ eyes with an almost devilish grin he said: 

“Not big enough.” 

[adiproseprose]

sometimes a babygirl is a 600 pound, sweaty butch lesbian with hairy legs and a bush peaking out from her fupa, dragging each of her liquid logged tree-trunk legs off the side of her bariatric bed and making her way to the kitchen for her third funnel feeding wearing nothing but a way too small sports bra and boxers hidden underneath an apron belly

[urthicklover]

My feeder ordered me Taco Bell 😍

[esmeislewd]

I'm just imagining getting led into a buffet on a leash and having it tied to one of the tables so I can't leave. Then having plate after plate brought to me, stuffing me without remorse and with no chance of escape. I'm not allowed to go until my partner is satisfied I've had enough, although by then I'm doubtful I'd be able to get up without help~

[thegainingdesk]

The Grommr Profile of Dorian Grey

Dorian finished the last chicken wing, delicately wiping his hands with a napkin, before dabbing at the sides of his mouth. “And one hundred!” He beamed at the camera, and rubbed his middle, not-so-subtly lifting his t-shirt to reveal taut, flat six-pack abs. “Guess that will sort me until dinner,” he said with a wink to his audience.

He looked at the comments on his livestream. Most were in awe, as usual, at how much he could eat while maintaining his stick-thin figure and classically handsome good looks. Others, frustratingly, accused him of being a fake - of using some contraption or camera trickery to make the food disappear, of editing in CGI food, of bullimia. He'd done live shows, week-long streams, streams in nothing but his boxers, but nothing would ever convince some of his viewers.

One in particular caught his attention: lol, why are you all commenting like he'll respond? everyone knows he films these over like a week and then edits it together after

Dorian gritted his teeth. “Actually, user WelcomeToMyFistedMind, comment at fifteen thirty-two and eighteen seconds, this is very much live. And actually, I don't think I am done quite yet.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a box of two dozen donuts he'd bought for tomorrow's stream. He sat back down and pushed the first one into his mouth, grinning around the custard that oozed out.

Forty-five minutes and twenty-four donuts later, Dorian flashed one last smug grin at the camera and closed twitch. He leant back, lifted up his t-shirt and ran his fingers lazily up and down his treasure-trail, following the center line between his abdominals. Despite the literal pounds of food he'd eaten in the last couple of hours, his stomach was as flat as ever, his twinkish frame showing none of the effects of the food he ate day in, day out.

His channel, MukbangBangYoureDead, had exploded in viewers ever since he started it a few years ago, until he was now one of the most famous mukbangers on the internet. He could not only eat more than all of his competitors, he made it look easy, and all without gaining a pound.

Of course, he had something that they didn't - the deal. He'd been hesitant at first, didn't believe the strange visitor that had come to him one night could or would deliver on its promises. But here he was, years later, making tens of thousands of pounds a month, all without consequence.

Thinking about the deal, he opened Grommr on his phone and brought up his profile. He whistled as he saw the updated weight - 576 pounds. He'd been flirting with 570 for a while now, and was pleased to see how far he'd stepped over that threshold. Time, he thought, for an update for his loyal fans on that platform too.

He pulled his trousers off and threw them to the side, leaving his t-shirt on. He walked to the mirror and admired his toned, pencil-like legs, his lightly muscled arms, the way his t-shirt draped from broad shoulders and tight pecs over his narrow waist, and his large bulge constrained by a designer jock-strap in bright yellow. He raised his phone up and took a picture, and proceeded to take his shirt off. He raised one hand to a lightly-haired pec and gave it a squeeze as he took a second picture. Finally, he lay down on his bed, snaked some long-slender fingers into his waistband, and raised his phone to take another photo from above.

He uploaded the pictures to Grommr without even looking at them - he knew there'd be no point, that they'd look completely different in just a moment or two. They appeared one by one as they uploaded.

Each showed a behemoth of a man. In the first the man stood in a mirror, wearing a t-shirt that cut into fat hanging from his sides and strained to cover large, pendulous breasts. His gut hung out and down, covering his genitals - a small pop of yellow beneath his love handles was the only hint that he was wearing any underwear. The man's face was huge and round, his features almost amorphous. Small, piggy eyes sat above bulbous cheeks, which merged into a ring of fat around his head, his chin a mere dimple in the fat around his neck. Even in the still image, it was clear that the man's arm was straining against its own weight to hold the phone up.

The next photo was much the same. The same morbidly obese figure stood in the same mirror. This time, the pitifully small t-shirt had been discarded to reveal cascading flesh hanging to the side, lying on the mountainous belly. One hand grasped one of the tits, bloated fingers digging into the soft flesh.

In the next, the figure was laid prone. Gravity had pulled down on the soft flesh and caused it to drop down and pool around the figure. The moobs lifted up towards the man's non-existant neck and chin, his gut spread out, his face expanded in all directions. New rolls and folds had formed - where arm met shoulder, where joints bent, or where his gut bunched up against itself. In the brighter lighting, painfully red stretch marks bloomed across the man's skin, circling his thighs, his love handles like loaves, across his dropping breasts. The man's left hand struggled to reach around his gut to grasp at the waistband of a straining jock strap, within which a small bump suggested some long-forgotten nub of a cock, sunk deep within the fat that spilled out around the underwear’s pouch. The man’s face was red, and seemed to strain as he struggled to maneuver his own flesh.

Dorian watched on in boredom as the first few comments rolled in. The usual adoring fans, begging to know the secrets to his titanic weight, proclaiming they’d soon look the same, asking to meet up. He would wait until a few of his regulars sent their customary tips, then go on with the rest of his day. In the meantime, a couple of the comments caused a smile to spread across his angular face.

MayContainDonuts: MealWithTheDevil looking great as ever! I don't know what it is, but he always looks so much like that one mukbang guy? Obviously fatter, but just the eyes and nose and stuff? I wonder if they're related?

BloatGoat: Do you mean MukbangBangYoureDead? If you can find some of his old photos the resemblance is uncanny. People used to think they were the same person but obviously not. Definitely could be related!

Dorian smirked and went to close the app, stopping only to check a small notification that popped up at the top of his screen. There would be routine server maintenance the next day, and the site would be down for around eight hours, starting mid-morning for the UK.

Dorian sighed. He hated server shutdowns, and this would be the longest he'd experienced yet. Still, he had a while to prepare. He'd have to cancel some lunch plans, but he could make up some lie about being ill. He got dressed, stood up and left to go buy enough food for tomorrow.

Dorian paced around his flat nervously the next morning. He checked his watch - 10:01. He quickly tried to bring up Grommr - sure enough, he was met with an error message about the server being down. It would start soon enough.

The first sign of it was his t-shirt. Previously loose, after about five minutes he found he was having to fuss with it to get it to sit right. another five minutes and it had begun riding up around puffy lovehandles and a firm paunch, while his sweatpants were starting to slip down an expanding rear. Another ten minutes and he took the t-shirt off, freeing a large beer gut that bounced when he walked. His sweatpants had grown almost skin tight around hefty thighs and would soon be too tight for comfort. He knew that this was only the start.

The hunger started then; sickly, stabbing pains in his newly expanded gut. He put two pizzas in the oven and sat with a donuts while he waited, knowing that soon his body, and his appetite along with it, would soon be able to accommodate all the food.

Just under thirty minutes in, Dorian's gut started to rest on his lap when he sat. He leant back, the swollen sack of fat at his middle dragging along his lap as he did so, and his cock began to harden. He reached a hand up to scratch the pink stretch marks beginning to form below his budding moobs.

While stuffed to the point of breathlessness just five minutes before, his stomach was still expanding, and he could feel the gnawing hunger begin to creep back in. He belched and stood, tottering slightly at the near-total shift in center of gravity since he’d sat down. He peeled off his sweatpants, struggling past his wide arse and flabby thighs, then gathered as much food as he could in his arms, using the top of his gut as a shelf and cautiously made his way back to his sofa, where he collapsed down, put on a trashy movie, and continued to eat.

Dorian continued to grow as his pile of junk food diminished. He savoured the feeling of soft, supple skin sliding past skin as he swelled - his growing tits pouring out onto his behemoth gut, his underbelly coursing forwards across rotund thighs dimpled with cellulite, his fat pad oozing around his perpetually hard dick. He knew to wait though; the bigger he was, the hotter his eventual orgasm would be.

Dorian looked down and surveyed himself. His body was beginning to be defined by rolls upons rolls. He estimated himself to be around the size he reached last time there was some server downtime; his profile had put on at least a hundred pounds since then. He lifted a heavy arm and used a hand to probe his plush flesh, sighing at the way his newly chubby fingers sank into the fat.

Still, the hunger increased. Dorian tried to lean forward to grab his phone, but found his own sheer bulk resisted him, pushing him back. He spread his legs and allowed his gut to fall down between them, the shift pulling his body forward in his seat and causing a dull ache in his lower back. He picked up his phone and with clumsy sausage-like fingers brought up a delivery app. He allowed instinct and hunger to take over - spring rolls, beef, chilli beef, sweet and sour chicken, duck pancakes, chilli chips, everything he saw he was ravenous for. He'd not been this big before and the hunger was deep. He pressed order, only briefly worrying about how he'd answer the door when he had no clothes that could hope to fit him.

Dorian’s body continued to expand. There was an alienness to his new size; his thighs had to splay around his hanging gut, his arms sat uncomfortably on top of thick pillows of fat at his sides, each joint filled with lard, and most of all was the awareness of gravity, how it pulled at his body and how his body answered in kind by dropping down and down.

Half an hour of nagging hunger later, his doorbell rang. He threw himself forward, but fell back to the sofa. Even that unsuccessful effort left him winded. He rolled to the side, fat cascading over fat as he did so, and staggered to stand sideways, his arms shaking as he heaved with all his might against the sofa. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over him; it barely covered his torso, but it was the best he could do.

How had he never realised how easy walking was before? Now, every step needed to be purposeful and required a conscious effort to propel his weight forwards. He had to wheel each thigh out and around past the other, each one a lead weight to be lifted. Dorian reached the door panting and sweaty, his hips burning with the beginnings of pain. The delivery driver looked on in shock, and then in slow horror. Dorian didn't care, he just grabbed his bags and slammed the door, before making his slow way back to his seat.

As he fell back, the sofa made a loud crunching sound and he felt himself sink deep into the cushions. He shuffled over the other side as best he could, each movement sending shockwaves across his body. He piled his bags into the crater left on the other side of the sofa and ate directly out of them, the table now wholly unreachable.

Dorian suspected he stopped growing around the time that he'd finished his food. If nothing else, the hunger had stopped. His torso had become a series of rolls, each one wrapped around his entire body and piled on top of the next. His limbs had become huge sacks of flesh, spreading out beneath him, the only evidence of his joints small, soft dimples in the thick casing of his body.

Dorian knew he'd waited long enough now. He pushed a stubby paw into the deep fold underneath his gut, reaching for the hard nub of his cock not yet swallowed by his fat pad. It was no use however, the heavy weight of his belly pressing down and closing off his own groin from himself. He leant to the side and spread his thighs, freeing up access and shifting his weight off from his lap, but still his fingers had to squirm past sweaty flesh into the small crevice left of his crotch. He grasped at the hard head of his cock, finding it in a shallow depression of flab nestled in dense pubes. With two fingers he did his best to jerk himself off, but to no avail - there was simply not enough cock left and not enough space to handle it in. Desperate for release he began to thrust, rocking his pelvis back and forth, so that the thick shaft of his penis slid within his own blubber, fucking his own body. He closed his eyes and ignored the tortured groans of the sofa below him as his pleasure grew. It only took a few minutes for him to cum, semen coating his fat pad and thighs as he yelled out.

Dorian slumped back, gasping for air, and exhausted, drifted off into a sleep.

When he woke up, it was dark. He could still feel the weight of his body pulling down. This wasn't right. As slow as it took for the weight to pile on, usually it melted away in seconds once the servers were back online, which should have happened hours ago. He checked the time - 23:24. Had something gone wrong?

He checked Grommr - the site was back up. He tried to log in - nothing. App - no. Browser - no. He tried to type his password in again, fat fingers mashing against the keyboard so that he had to try again slowly, deliberately. Nothing worked. He felt his heart pounding somewhere beneath his bosom.

Finally, he noticed an email in his inbox.

Grommr admin team - lost profile

During our recent scheduled server update, a small number of user profiles were unfortunately lost. We are sorry to tell you that your profile was one of those that we have not been able to recover. We are doing everything we can to recover lost profiles, but we are sadly not…

Dorian stopped reading. He looked down at the acres of flesh that were now his body. He lifted an arm up and let it fall, watching it shake and wobble in the dim light. What would he tell his family? His friends? His fans? This couldn't be happening.

Through his panicked breathing and heavy heartbeat, another feeling began to grow - Dorian Grey was beginning to feel hungry.

[bs76420]

Munchies.

A sensation strong enough to forget what full feels like. Everything tastes so good, you can't shovel it in fast enough to get to the next snack. Then all of the sudden, your belly is bulging forward over your waistband, swollen to capacity.

Or what would be your capacity, but the sensations of your overactive taste buds are too powerful and delicious to fight. So even tho your stuffed beyond belief, it's not enough. You keep going because, let's be honest, having a full belly feels soo good 😌. And hey, weed helps with nausea and stomach pain, so maybe that's why it never gets painful? I think so.

Too stuffed, overfed, can barely move, your skin stretching clinging onto that overtly protruding belly, and in perfect bliss. Finally enough, stoned food coma = heaven on earth. Rinse repeat, cause mindless gluttony is soo addictive

[tumbylove]

Here is my progress for a story I'm writing. It's not super clean, I'm no professional, but I expect some of you will like it.

Extreme kink, medical fattening, iq loss, first person, transmasc reader

(I posted a sample, and that's about the first half of this with minor changes, but it's rebloggable now)

My Visit to the Weight Gain Clinic

Part 1

After a year on the wait list, my day had finally come. I was ecstatic. I bounced into the clinic, shaking a little, with nervousness and excitement. My life was about to change. I entered the weight gain clinic, known around the world for it's one-of-a-kind program. Countless clinjcs removed fat, but this clinic helped you gain it. I had been trying to get fat for several years, and although I'd managed to gain about 50 lbs, I was still so far from where I wanted to be, and I finally got to fix that.

I walked to the counter, and checked in, giving the person at the desk my name, and receiving in turn a clipboard with documents to fill out. I then turned, and went to sit. All the chairs in the lobby were bigger than average, but some chairs were bigger than any I'd seen before. As I looked around the room, I saw a handful of people. One person of a middle weight. Perhaps overweight by normal standards, but perhaps my point of reference was a bit skewed, I was of course here for a weight gain clinic. The next person I saw was already enormous. At least 450 lbs, the man took up one of the massive chairs that looked more like a bench. He breathed heavily and held a cane. "I wonder if I will still want to gain more if I get to his size." I thought to myself. The last person in the waiting room was a woman who was model thin, but was flipping througha ssbbw magazine and excitedly picking out pictures. "All of us are here for the same thing, to get bigger" I thought to myself and felt so very excited and encouraged that it was happening so soon. I turned my attention to the clipboard in my hands.

The intake forms started with normal medical questions, then questions asking things like my top weight, the speed of my metabolism, and family history of obesity. Then came questions like gial weight, if I was planning for immobility and how i was prepared for changes in my mobility, and comfort levels with the realities of massive weight gain.

After all of that came the liabilities. The risks present with any operation were listed first, then the more relevant ones. Obesity lowers life expectancy. Obesity has several comorbid conditions, and dealing with at least some of them is likely. All this was to be expected, honestly. I knew what I was getting into.

Then they called my name. My heart jumped, and I stood and followed a nurse to a room where I was weighed and my vitals were taken. After a few minutes, I met with doctor.

We went over goals with the operation, and risks. We also went over my desired result and other procedural options.

I picked from photo lineup a man with the body shape what I wanted. A round, apple body with stocky legs and sturdy arms. A big round belly hanging tightly just a bit over the waistband of his pants. Last but not least, a noticeable double chin. For my short height, that would put me at about 255 lbs, an 80 lb gain. I decided that was the weight I wanted to walk out of the clinic with, before the additional weight piled on as a result of this process.

The plan for the actual operation was simple:

I would be first given a round of several injections to promote fat growth, speed metabolism, and greatly add resilience to my tissue, so that it would essentially stretch to fit my new mass without tearing or rupturing. It would also make me ravenously hungry. I would then be given sedatives and pain medication to ease my body, and a tube directly into my stomach that would pump me full of a new and revolutionary high fat solution in increments. The fattening would take place over the course of roughly three hours, with periods of feeding and digesting. Even with the process exorbitantly expedited by the hormones and medications in the injections, the process would still take time. The effects of the medication would be active for around a week so even after the inpatient part was complete, I would be likely to gain an additional 50 lbs at least during that window. During that week i would be visited by an in-home nurse to check up on me and monotor my progress. Additionally, a rapid gain in weight like this would permenantly alter and slow my metabolism, not to mention the fact that hauling extra mass would be enormously difficult for my muscles that were not used to the extra load. This would make me more sedentary and likely cause weight gain too. With all things considered, I would likely end around 350 lbs. If my body reacts to the treatment as expected, that would be a total of 180 lbs gained, basically doubling my weight over an incredibly shirt period.

My appointment was scheduled for next week. In the meantime though, the doctor gave me a suitcase full of weighted pads to wear around the house in order to simulate my coming weight, so that I could practice getting used to the labor that would be added to every waking thing I did. It also gave people a chance to back out if it seemed like they were unsure of the operation. Of course, fat gain is irreversible and no matter what is done after the fact, a body will never return to the way it was before a massive gain like this. I was given a list of things to do and some pills to take. The pills would make my body become more elastic in preparation for the coming week.

That night I read the list. I was told to make arrangements with my job. That would be no problem, I worked from home on a job that simply requires computer and phone work only. I still had taken a month off to adjust to my change in lifestyle. I had plenty of paid time off and I looked forward to the chance to indulge. The instructions also reminded me to adjust my wardrobe. I had already purchased three outfits, but wanted to wait to see the final results before I got more, just in case. Order seatbelt extender, check, reinforce furniture, check, a reminder that after the procedure my mobility would be limited, so to go on any hikes or high-octaine adventures ahead of time, like I would be doing that. I chuckled. Pass. Not my style anyway.

I put on the contents of the suitcase, it essentially was the combination of a weighted blanket and a fatsuit. It simulated a 100 lb gain. More than I'd start with, but less than I'd end up with. I chuckled. I put it on, with more sweating and effort than I'd like to admit, and I stood up. Oof. Wow. This was a lot. I wobbled over to my closet and put on one of my new outfits over it. I actually looked fat. My eyes beamed, and I saw in the mirror a glimpse into the future I'd been yearning for for years. I hefted the heavy "belly" up in my hands and beamed. Wow. This felt amazing. I was so turned on by the feeling of my new type of gravity. This was going to be awesome.

I tested my movement, slowly walking around the house. I had to move my legs differently, with added girth to my thighs making me waddle. I bent to pick something up, and my huge belly weight got in the way. This was a new challenge. I had to basically drop to one knee, because bending down straight from the middle wasn't really an option.

"This is why they send you home with this suit," I thought to myself. I continued my trek around the house, and tried to sit at my office chair. It was so narrow, or rather, I was so wide that I couldn't fit my padded hips into it.

"Good thing I tried that," I thought, "I'll have to stop by the store tomorrow for another chair"

Then my stomach began to rumble.

I realized that with the elasticity drug already in my system, I could probably push my stomach farther than ever before.

I hurried (if that word really applied, with my little wobbly steps and huffing breath) to get the seatbelt extender, and plopped myself into the front seat. After readjusting the seat, I drove to the nearest fried chicken restruaunt and ordered the largest combination from the drive through window. Once home, I ate the biggest dinner I had ever eaten, topped off by a quart of ice cream. Finally I took off the suit, and went to bed gleefully dreaming about the future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week flew by, and before I knew it I was back in the doctor's office. The week had been enlightening, and had helped me adapt my house to accommodate my coming size. I took the opportunity to stock the house with as many snacks as possible, and to set up a mini fridge in my living room, near my couch and tv, where I planned to spend much of the next month. I would be near the front door, so picking up delivery would be easy, and i did all my possible chores so I would have almost nothing to worry about once i was back home.

Suddenly the moment was here. I heard my name called, and rose to greet the nurse who led me back through the office. I noted that this would be the last time I'd be able to easily sit in a standard chair, stand up so quickly, or walk so lightly. Today would mark many lasts, but also many firsts.

The nurse had me stand on a scale. 175. I giggled to myself, what a tiny number that was. Of course, it teetered the edge of obesity, for my 5'5" height, but that just meant by most standards I just looked a bit chubby. Sure, I had a belly, but I didn't really look fat. I needed to change that.

Next we went down the hall to a room, and I was given a gown to change into. It was huge, bigger than I even knew the gowns came. I looked like a kid, wearing a hospital gown made for someone twice as big as me.

Then he took my vitals, and began to give me the drugs to start the process. First he put an IV with pain medication and a light sedative, to keep me comfortable and relaxed while my body underwent the rapid change. I had elected to stay awake for the operation, because I wanted to watch myself grow.

Next, in came the doctor, who repeated much of the information given the other day, and told me she would be attending to me over the course of the day. The next step was possibly the most important, because it would prepare my body for what was about to happen. The injections. Because they were to stimulate fat growth, I was given shots all over my body, focusing most on the places where I was most interested in fat accumulating. One in my double chin and each cheek, three in each of my upper arms and one in the forearms, one in each moob and five in a star on my belly. Two in each asscheek, one in each hip, three in each thigh and one in each calf. 30 shots. By this point I was giddy with excitement, and dazed and loopy from the medication. I smiled as the doctor put a feeding tube down my throat, and began to notice the warm full sensation of my belly being filled to bursting. But... it didnt stop. Because of my elasticity, my stomach could fit so much! For about five minutes I was pumped full, and then it stopped. That was the waiting part. For the next fifteen minutes I would wait for my body to process the nutrients. My stomach had bloated to something of an orb, but as I sat, the bloating turned to pure, soft fat. It was astounding, but I could watch and see it happen. My entire body was electric with tingling sensations. I was very conciously aware of every small change that my body made, all my nerves were extremely sensitive and my stretched skin felt overwhelmingly good. I caressed my belly with my hands. Incredible! It was not only bigger, it was substantially changed! Fortunately the clinic had put a large mirror beside the bed, because of course this was the type of procedure done here, and they knew people wanted to see their changes in real time. In the 20 minute cycle, I had added 10 lbs to my body! It was incredible to watch. This process repeated every 20 minutes, and at the end of the first hour I had gained 30 lbs. A crease ran along the top, as my belly pooled in my lap, and my arms were substantially fatter. My ass sat wider on the bed, and I was absolutely memorized by my own softness. I turned on the food network on the hospital TV, and amused myself by playing with my new fat as I watched it grow.

After two hours I began to really feel heavy. 60 lbs in, and it was really getting serious. My face was now nearly unrecognizable and I looked genuinely huge. I was approaching class 3 obesity and you could really tell. My belly took up much of my lap, but was continuing to take up more real-estate as the minutes ticked by. My chin was becoming more limiting, as I tried to look down. For the moment I was alone in the room, and I lifted my belly to touch myself. I slipped my hand down to finger myself, and was hardly surprised by how wet I was. This was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me, and I loved every moment of it. I came in seconds as I touched myself with one hand, and felt my new fat with the other. All my nerves were electrified with erotic sensitivity, I had never felt so sexually charged in my life. For the next 40 minutes the process continued, and I gained another 20 lbs. My overhanging belly was expansive and my arms hung out from my sides. My head was more limited in movement due to the excess of fat on my neck. I was by no means a marvel of fatness, but I had grown enormously over the afternoon. I watched the mirror next to my bed and smiled. When the final round completed, the doctor returned again. She had visited and observed periodically throughout the procedure, but had not had to be there the entire time for a regimet as noninvasive as this had been. The IV was removed, and so was the tube from my throat, and I was lowered into a sitting position. Then the doctor spoke.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel amazing."

"Any pain anywhere?"

"No ma'am"

"Do you have any concerns?"

"No, I feel well and read all the information, I am fine."

"How about you try to stand up for me"

I blushed. I scooted myself to the edge of the seat, and off into a standing position.

Oof. Wow. This was a lot. I knew it would be. Suddenly standing was actually quite a chore. I knew that many people were used to the size I had grown to, but earlier this afternoon I was 80 lbs lighter and this was the first time I was forced to face the full gravity of that fact. I wobbled slightly as I stabilized my balance, and righted myself.

Incredible, I thought to myself, I can't see my feet at all. My belly hangs down a couple inches, and it didn't crease underneath at all before. Even my flat chest had gained a thicknlayer of fat! I turn a circle, looking in the mirror at my cellulite-riddled ass, and I can tell. I'm a certified fat guy!

I lifted my new belly with my hands and let it drop, wobbling and bouncing as it did. I laughed. I had actually done it!! And I knew I was not done getting fatter, in fact I had set something in motion I had no way of stopping and no way to reverse. That made it all the more exciting.

The doctor smiled, watching my excitement.

"Walk across the room, turn and come back" she watched my movements, checking my balance and coordination. I did as I was told, but my new form was quite something for my mind to adapt to, and I was clumsy. I was forced to waddle, because my thighs were so much thicker than before. I walked the short distance of the room, and returned with heavy breath. This was no joke, I was going to be completely exhausted by the end of the day. Then she instructed me, "bend down and touch your toes" I bent over a bit, but was quickly stopped by the mass of my middle. There was no possible way I would touch my toes in this state. In fact, the effort and surprise of the fat in my middle pressing on my diaphragm took my breath away too. Wow, I sure would be panting a lot as I adjusted to my new size.

The doctor chuckled a little at my effort, "Good. Good. That's just fine." She smiled.

"Now lift your arms out to your sides"

My arms felt heavy as lead, but she inspected the masses of fat hanging mostly from my upper arms. She circled me, feeling the fat accumulation around my chest, sides, middle, and buttox and made notes on her computer.

"Everything looks to be in order, do you have any questions for me?" I shook my head. "Your follow up appointment is in a week. I expect you will have gained at least an additional 50 lbs by then, due to the medication still being active in your system. Eat as much as you can in that time to maximize your results, assuming you still want to keep growing. Of course, you can't back out now, but if you want to limit further growth that is still within your control. That being said, I am impressed with your results at this time, and I look forward to seeing you next week. I will keep you for another couple hours to monitor your condition, and make sure you have no complications, but in the meantime I will have them bring you a few trays of food. I expect you are very hungry."

She was correct, I was starved. I looked at my huge belly and was shocked that I could still want to eat more after three hours of nonstop fattening. Still, my stomach gurgled, demanding more. The nursing staff brought in an entire lasagna with a huge milkshake and a slice of cake four times a normal amount. I set to work. My newly fattened belly making sure that the tray table they put over me had to be set extra high, and my arms quickly tired from the excess weight, so I set the tray table to the side and filled myself a plate that I set on the dome of my belly. The most interesting thing about the medication, was that it made food process into fat at about the same volume as the food itself. A person usually eats three to four pounds of food a day, which would make me gain about that much each day if I was eating normal amounts, but the expectation is that with my increased apatite and stomach capacity I was likely to eat twice that much in order to stay on track with projections. Still, that was no cap, and I could eat as much as I was able, and I was determined to see how far I could push myself.

I ate the lasagna first, a family sized pan of it. Incredible! Even after everything, I didn't feel completely full. I had to test this. I drank the milkshake and ate the cake. Only then did u feel the first wave of fullness. The nurse saw that I had finished my food and brought me a plate with four burgers and a large soda. They had clearly prepared for this, and done this before. I went through the second "meal" in about half an hour, and was feeling rather full and bloated. I then was brought a huge tray of nachos, which I continued to munch on for the rest of the time, dilling my belly to a capacity I had never nefore imagined. The stretch allowed by the medication I was on was truly astounding.

The doctor entered when the observation period was done, in order to give me a final check before discharging me.

"I have briefed your attending nurse that will be visiting your home, but I'd like to introduce you to her, so that you can get acquainted. This is Jen."

I blush and wave a little, embarrassed to be meeting someone new in this state. I needed to get over that, because this would be the only way I would be meeting anyone from here on out. This was my life now. It was hard for me to separate the fact that while this was incredibly erotic for me, the people around me didn't have reason to think this was anything other than regular weight gain. Well, I guess the nurse probably knew, but that's because I was here in the clinic, doing this on purpose. Certainly there were many reasons to want to gain weight, but the goal of rapidly doubling one's weight was extreme enough to be squarely in the category of kink, without many other possible motivations. I shook his hand, and he smiled warmly. "I look forward to working with you."

She was taller than I, about 5'7", and she looked strong. She was butch, and probably the best word to describe her would be handsome. She had tan olive skin, strong brows, and kind eyes. Her short hair was a bit curly, and she was about 30.

"In terms of your discharge, there are a few more matters to discuss" said the doctor, there is one additional option you have to maximize your gain. It is a bit more extreme, but with your aptitude and enthusiasm for this process, I think you could be a good candidate if you're interested."

I immediately nodded, "I am certainly interested, what would it entail?"

"I first want to preface this by saying this will definitely put you over what you originally expressed you wanted your goal weight to be. That being said, it is far more variable and I cannot tell you exactly how much, it varies greatly from person to person. It also will mean that you need more assistance over the next week, because it would render you less capable of taking care of yourself, would that still be something you're interested in?"

"Yes, but what does it entail?"

"As you may know, the brain uses more energy and burns more calories than any other organ in the body, barring rigorous exercise, which of course you won't be doing anyway. In order to maximize your gain, one promising prospect is diminishing cognitive function."

"So you're saying if I take pills to make myself temporarily stupid, I'll get fat faster?"

"Precisely."

"Are there any side effects?"

"The results wear off no more than a week after the last dose is taken. They have been reported to cause weight gain, increased libido, and an increase in apatite, but those changes should not be noticeable, because the effects of the operation will likely cause all those things, at least for you anyway. Other than that, the only other documented symptom is the purpose of the drug, decreased cognitive function. You'll be incredibly stupid. This will affect both judgement, and short term and long term memory for the duration of the time you're taking the pills. Your interests will be simple, and you'll be extremely carefree and food motivated. Most normal people would be terrified of such a drug, I have to admit, but you seem like you might actually enjoy it. There are people who don't want to stop once they start taking this medication."

"You promise I won't still be stupid once the drug is out of my system?"

"Clinical trials have shown no reduction in IQ of patients before use and after discontinued use of this drug. While every single drug on the market contains risks, as far as medication goes this one is perfectly safe as long as someone keeps an eye on you while you're on it, and you don't get yourself into any outside trouble."

I thought to myself, "that seems simple enough, I do want some time to think about it though."

"How about this- I write you a prescription and you decide if you want to fill it or not. This is entirely up to you, but if you DO decide to take it, call or email me beforehand so that I can get help sent out your way. Jen will be headed to your home in the morning regardless, but you will need more than one daily check in if you are so heavily impaired."

"I can handle that, I appreciate you giving me flexible options with that. It seems really appealing, I just want to do a bit of research."

"Of course! That's what I'm here for. This clinic is to help people realize the dreams that are beyond their grasp, and I intend to make sure you have the best options available to you. Is there anything else, before we get you home?"

"How long does it take to get a mobility scooter preordered?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They wheeled me out to the hospital transport van in a wheelchair, as they do with basically all hospital discharged, but for the first time I was really relieved that they did. Sure I could walk around, but my body was far from used to it yet. When dropped off at my house, however, I did waddle up the steps and inside on my own.

"Damn" I thought. "I'm so heavy." I breathed hard, leaning on the counter in my entryway. Kitchen to my right and couch to my left. I was breathing hard, unused to the weight. Jen would be going over some physical therapy exercises with me tomorrow to get me used to my new body and retain mobility, but all the strain on me had left me exhausted today. This morning I had walked out the front door like it was nothing, it never even seemed like a task to move about my home, but that was different now. "Thank god I got everything ready ahead of time." Before heading to the living room I decided to get myself a tray of food first, I couldn't think about anything other than my starving belly. I grabbed two bags of chips, a tub of guacamole and a jar of queso from the fridge, and popped two frozen burritos into the microwave. I set all that on a tray with a 2 liter of Coke, and hobbled to set it on the tray table next to the couch, where I intended to spend the next several hours. "This food should last me a while" I chuckled. I was going to eat so much food this week.

I went to the app for the pharmacy chain nearby on my phone, and ordered the prescription for the drug we had discussed to be delivered later that afternoon.

"Now to read up on it, if I don't want it, I don't have to take it" I said to myself, but my mind was basically made up anyway. Still, it was good measure to check it out. "Intelexa" was the name of it, I searched redit forums, and found a number of threads of people who took it. There were a few different reasons people wanted temporary intelligence debuffs, but sex or kink was one of the common underlying reasons. Everyone who had taken it on the threads had enjoyed it a lot. I could really tell when someone who was on it was typing though, because the phrases they used were simplistic and full of spelling errors. Still, no red flags, I thought, other than the fact that some people seemed to have been on it for a while without showing any intention of stopping. Oh well, perhaps their reasons were different. Everyone who got off of it still seemed glad they had done it, and they didn't seem to note any lingering effects, other than missing the feeling. It seemed too good to be true. I turned on a movie, and ate all the food I had brought over, and eventually fell asleep there in the living room.

When I woke up at about 6 pm, the drug had arrived, dropped through the mail slot in my front door. I saw it from my seat, but because I had decided to order delivery for dinner, I planned to just pick it up when the food arrived. No need for extra steps, I told myself.

I placed my order for a family sampler platter from the Asian resturaunt just a block away, and sat tight for the quick delivery. I then drafted an email to the doctor. She was gone for the day but would be back in the morning.

"Hello,

I had decided to take you up on your suggestion to try the Intelexa, I plan to take it just before bed so that tomorrow it has kicked in. Please send Jen as expected, but I'd like to go ahead and adjust the schedule so that I am receiving as much care as you recommend for the duration of the week.

Thank you for your help"

I signed off the email. That should work, I thought. With that taken care of, I heaved myself to the edge of my seat. After a couple tries, I stood and slowly hobbled to the door. There, I very gently took to one knee, careful not to hurt myself, because I was not a good judge of my balance yet. I collected the paper pharmacy bag and opened the door for my food. Fortunately the driver had set it on a little table I had set on the porch, not realizing just how helpful that table would be. I bobbled my way back to my seat, and sat down with my tray. I opened up the paper bag and looked at the pill bottle, "once daily for seven days" it said. "Do not take if pregnant" well duh. I read through the warnings. All seemed as expected. I was burningly curious. My plan was to head to bed in four or so hours, and I wanted to try them right away. I set a reminder for myself on my phone "brush your teeth" at 9:45 and an alarm "go to bed" at 10, in case even those instructions proved hard to remember, and then I took the pill.

While I was still in motion I decided it was best to do anything I still wanted to do before sitting back down or before the drug kicked in. I set my food on the counter, and walked to the bathroom scale. 265. I had gained 15 lbs since the feeding tube, so that meant I'd eaten 15 lbs worth of food while waiting for release at the clinic and since I had been home. I hadn't even eaten my dinner yet. Incredible. I was going to blow past every projection. That was a little scary, but extremely exciting.

I sat down on the couch with my enormous dinner, as well as a tray of cookies from the pantry. I turned on a lets-play of a game I used to play as a kid, and Google how much a gallon of fat weighed. 7.4 lbs. That day I'd gained nearly thirteen gallons of fat. In a single day! It was hard to wrap my head around it! It was actually getting harder to wrap my head around much. It had been about 20 minutes since taking the pill, and I felt the first few things slipping. Never mind that, I had food to eat. I watched my little video and ate my dinner. When my video ended after about 30 minutes, my head felt floaty and my skin tingled. I giggled, this was so much fun! Being off work! Getting so soft and jiggly. I clicked through the recommended videos ans put on a song with some pretty, colorful visuals. So nice! I couldn't be bothered to search videos, that was too hard, and I had such yummy food to eat. I let the videos play, as I mindlessly ate and touched my fat. It was so pretty, rippling as I touched it. My skin was so smooth, stretched taut over my ever-expanding fat. I could actually visually see the difference between my belly when I started my meal to now. My skin was warm to the touch and extremely sensitive, from head to toe. When I looked down at my body, my double chin kept my head propped up more than it ever had before. The feeling of my soft chin fat cushioning my face turned me on. I felt my nipples, that were on soft, heavy breasts now. I lifted one in each hand and let them plop back down onto my belly. I felt the underside of my belly, I had to reach out pretty far to even get my hands under there. I could hide both hands under my belly apron without any trouble. I flopped it up and down, enjoying the warm heavy blanket it provided my lap. I traced the crease around to my sides. I had an impressive muffin top, that capped at the small of my waist where there was a crease in my fat. This crease could be traced to my back where I had a drooping layer of fat swooping down under each shoulder blade, joining with the crease in my side. I couldn't reach my back at all anymore due to the fatness of my arms. Speaking of my arms, they didn't hang down directly anymore. They propped out at an angle, with a little dimple over my elbow.

All that was on my mind was eating and the softness of my body. All I wanted was to make my body bigger, softer, and heavier, and there was not a single worry in my head. No regrets. No fears. Just fat and food and lust. I didn't have a concept of tomorrow, or a plan for what would happen the rest of the week. I didn't think about what I would do if I did end up immobile, and if I kept up the path I was on, that was the inevitable end. I didn't realize that yet. I didn't realize anything. I just simply realized that my food was almost gone. I kept eating the noodles and rice, licking my sauced fingers, and dug into the cookies. I didn't have a concept of fullness, but the tightness in my belly felt incredible. I was on a sensory journey that couldn't be matched, everything was beautiful and fun, and I felt so good. I was being weighed down by a warm and heavy blanket of fat, akin to the feeling of being wrapped in a weighted blanket, but this was mine. My body. My beautiful, rippling, expansive body. I took off my clothes. I had only bought three sets of clothes in large sizes for after the operation, in case my size was different than I expected, and it was a good thing I did. The first, albeit the smallest set, had been stretched to bursting and was hurting my skin around the waistband of the pants and around the sleeves on the shirt. Who needs clothes at home anyway? I didn't think about if clothes would fit tomorrow or if I would need to get dressed. I didn't think about impressing the beautiful nurse coming to my house in the morning. My head was full of cotton candy and bliss. The world was a beautiful place full of food, and I was starving. No apprehensions, no guilt, no concequences. Just getting fat beyond belief.

My hand touched the bottom of the plastic tray of cookies, and I pouted a little that the cookies were gone. With all the food I brought over eaten, I had to stand back up and go get more. I rocked back and forth to get the momentum to stand, and took careful, small steps to the kitchen. My thighs were noticeably wider than my test walk at the hospital, and I could feel my waddle getting more dramatic. I giggled. Waddle! Such a funny word. Jiggle. Funny word too! Jiggle and waddle, soft bouncy belly! These words amused me as I puttered about the kitchen. I saw a bag of microwave popcorn, but the microwave seemed much too hard to operate. No popcorn now. I looked in the freezer, and saw a gallon of vanilla ice cream. I had forgotten that I just ate cookies, and got some more from the pantry. I hummed the sing-songy jingles of fast food chains and waddled all the way back to my seat. Yummy! Ice cream and cookies. I turned back on the TV, right to a cooking show. Good thing too, I couldn't have changed the channel if I had wanted. I let the show drone on as I polished off the whole gallon of ice cream and box of cookies. My phone made a pleasant little jingle, and I hummed along as it buzzed. I didn't notice the alarms to go to bed, I just kept snacking. The TV programming became worse and worse as the night stretched later and later but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I made several more trips to the kitchen for food. The mound of empty packages grew around me as I grew drowsy. Before I knew it I was asleep on the couch.

I awoke to a knock at the door, and a bright smiling face coming though. In the morning sunshine Jen looked angelic to my hazy brain, and with her came the enchanting aroma of pancakes. I looked at her wide eyed, and didn't say a word. "I'm relieved you stayed out of trouble, seems you jumped the gun with the meds!" She walked carefully around the mountain of wrappers and packages beside me. "Looks like you still managed to do some damage though, didn't you big guy?" She teasingly poked my belly. Last night's mindless binge left me another 15 lbs heavier. At least. I looked up at her, as she grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen and gathered the garbage. "What am I going to do with you? You're already managing to be a lot of trouble, but I can't help but be impressed. I've hardly seen anyone gain as much as you have the first day after the treatment. Are you going to be a record breaker?" She talked to me like a kid, but I couldn't tell, I was just happy to be coddled and praised. I giggled.

"You don't know it yet, but I've decided to make you my pet project. You show enough potential that I want to see just how fat you can get this week. It'll be our little secret." She winked at me, and I laughed, not understanding what she meant, but I did understand the three McDonalds Big Breakfast Platters she set in front of me.

"Thank you for bringing food! I like pancakes. I'm hungry!"

"I know you are, you're starving. Probably wasting away, you haven't eaten since last night!"

"Wasting away..." my thoughts trail off as I look into the pretty, reflective syrup on the pancakes. I grab my fork and dig in. I still hadn't moved from my spot, or clothed myself, but I didn't notice. It was just as well anyway.

"How long will you keep bringing me food?" I ask Jen through mouthfuls of food. "We will see, but it may be for a long time. I want to make sure you get big and soft!"

I kick my feet up and down in giddy excitement. I'm completely maluable to any suggestion she has, and she knows it. After I finish my pancakes she gets me up to do some exercises, to stretch my legs and retain mobility. "Up up, on your feet big boy" she grabs my hands and pulls me up. Was I always this heavy? Was walking always this hard? I can't be sure. This feels like a lot. Jen took my hand as she walked me to the bedroom to get me dressed. I took her arm and waddled along, then sat on the bed when we got there and Jen began to get out my clothes.

"Do you come here every day?"

"I do now"

"What... what do I do every day?"

"You eat."

"Oh..."

"Do you like to eat?"

"Yes"

She pulled the shirt over my head and over my growing middle. I was on to the 4 xl shirts. Yesterday, I was a medium.

"Why are there little shirts in the closet?"

"I don't know. Do you wear little shirts?"

"No, I wear big shirts!"

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm big and fat!"

"Very good! And do you want to keep getting bigger and fatter?"

"Yes!" I loved being soft, that I knew, and I also loved impressing Jen and when I said yes she seemed so pleased! It motivated me to keep getting fatter for her. I didn't have a concept of the concequences in this state, just of impressing the pretty lady and being soft and heavy. By that point she had dressed me, and she hauled me to my feet again. "Now you need to get weighed. Did you write down your last weight?" I looked at her blankly. "Of course you don't know, come on then" she led me by the hand to the bathroom where the scale was. Thankfully I had prepped by getting a very strong scale before all this. On the counter was a notepad with the list

Pre-op

175

Immediately post op

250

Day 1 6pm

265

Of course I hadn't written anything down since the medication, literacy would be quite a stretch at this point. I got up on the scale and it seemed I'd gained weight even since she had gotten here. "285, very good. At this rate you will get up to at least.. hm 20-40 lbs a day, counting the rest of today and the remaining 5 days.. maybe a little longer depending on the first dose.. you very well may be over 500 lbs by the end of the week!

And from there you'll only gain more... with a body like that, staying active is impossible! You've locked in your fate, haven't you? Soon, the best exercise you'll be able to manage is walking to the door to get your delivery orders! If that..." She smiled at me, and if I was in my right mind, perhaps I would have been afraid, but I had no fear, I had no concept of the long term concequences. All I had was her being proud of me, good food, and my wonderful, soft, expanding fat. I had turned into her little experiment, to see how far these things could be pushed, and I loved every moment of it. The selling point of the Intelex had been the calories saved from reduced brain function, but while that was definitely a component, the far more effective result was the lack of inhibitions, anxiety, or awareness of concequences. Without those things, for better or worse, I could gain limitlessly. No fear, guilt, or concern stopped me from indulging every single primal desire that crossed my clouded mind.

She guided me by the hand back to the living room to do some exercises. The goal was to get me used to my new size, help coordination, and keep mobility. She held my hand and had me stand on one foot and try to balance. Lifting my leg and keeping it off the ground was almost impossible. With help, I was able to manage it for about 30 seconds before having to sit and catch my breath. My muscles were unused to this. After a short rest and a can of Coke to quench my thirst, I did it on the other leg.

Then Jen had me walk up and down the stairs to the basement once. That was the hardest thing I had tried yet. With shaking knees and buckets of sweat I finished. "When do I get to eat again?"

"Good boy! Always ready for more food. Let's get you some brunch."

She fixed half a loaf of French Toast with a heaping portion of syrup and sprinkle of powdered sugar, as well as heavy cream to drink. I downed it all quickly, letting out a small burp. I blushed. I don't usually burp... do I? I'm not sure. "Do I.. have a job?" "Not right now, for now your job is to grow." "Am I doing a good job?" "The best. Now tell me, why do you like to grow?" "Because it's sexy." "Does it make you horny?" "Yes!" I reach down to touch myself lightly, on the outside of my clothes, and find it a challenging reach. Was it always this hard to reach?

"That is all I have planned for this morning" Jen said, "I have some other stops to make. I'll put on a movie for you and order you some lunch for an hour from now. I will see you again this evening"

She set me up a que of simple, colorfully animated movies. Once she was gone I couldn't help but jack off to my gain. I was huge! Bigger than anyone my height should be! So heavy my muscles could hardly haul me around! So fat that the rolls looked like they were going to melt off me.

So fat I couldn't see my feet if I tried, that I'd have to be careful what furniture I could use, I was fat enough to get stuck places! My wardrobe was gone. I looked nothing like my old self. No one would know me. I was wholely changed. So fast too, two days and my life would have a completely different trajectory now. Every aspect of my life would be affected. The way I moved. The clothes I wore. The activities I did and the places I could go. My restrictions would be great, and every one would remind me of how I had chosen this, the bulk of my body was a direct choice that I made purely out of lust. My kink was plastered to my whole body. I wore it in the most public possible way. It was like the most pristine bondage- never removable. Permenant in every realistic way. A shrine to hedonism. I reached my hand under my belly and bulging fupa, and fingered my needy hole. My arm quickly tired of holding back such a large pile of fat, so I humped a pillow and massaged my moobs. My whole body was soft and tender. I thought to myself with more clarify than I'd had since the night before, but all my thoughts still went to how ravenously horny I was at that moment. How I loved to eat and eat with no remorse or guilt. How I loved every square inch of my body. How erotic I found it that I was simply not strong enough to masturbate like I did before. I pulled up a selfie from last week on my phone and came to the sheer comparison.

I was broken out of my post-orgasm stupor by a knock at the door. I washed off my hands on the way to the door, collected my food, and headed back to my spot. I was likely not going to stray from this spot much anymore. Once the adrenaline wore off, the cloudy haze settled back over my mind, but not quite as heavily as before. The first dose was wearing off somewhat.

As I ate and blankly watched movies, I thought about my future. I was huge, and I was going to keep getting bigger. What would that look like for me? How would I do the things I needed to do? How would I care for myself? I loved this lifestyle I was settling into. Could I continue it? Could I dare to dream? It seemed too good to be true. Perhaps I would go back to work, but hazy days of movies and neverending food was roo good a life to let go of. It felt soooo good to be soft and fat, sitting and playing with my own belly. It was heaven. I wanted to repeat this moment every day. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone to feed me and look after me... of course I had Jen, but she was just hired to do that, paid for by insurance, she didn't actually want to keep doing this, right?

I shook my head. It was all too hard. Too complicated. All I knew was that I loved food and growing big and I wanted to get to keep doing that with Jen for as long as possible.

She hadn't been joking around when she ordered me lunch, it was at least enough food for 8 people. Four milkshakes, 6 double burgers, 12 chicken strips, two large fries and a cheese curds. I ate slowly, working through all the food bit by bit. For the next four hours I ate, thinking about all the things I was too fat to do, and how hot and bothered that made me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At 6 pm Jen returned, and the first thing she did was inspect me carefully. I had eaten every bite of food, and had gained probably 10 lbs to show for it. Plus breakfast, that probably set me at 300 lbs now. My belly hung considerably over mu fupa now, and my legs were permenantly bowed out. My arms too were propped to the sides, and the upper arm became more pillowy with every meal. Even though because of too surgery my upper chest was small compared to the rest of my heavy laiden torso, even at my scars my moobs managed to hang. Less fat just gathered there than the rest of me, but even still I was thickening up. The point where the scar met my underarm made a bulge that creased and began to hang too. I was collecting masses of fat, new bulges and creases all over. As she looked over mu bulgenong form, I spoke a little nervously this time. "I think it's nearly time for my meds again, but I want to tell you while I'm relatively clear headed, I really like you, and I like you feeding me. I want to see how fat you can make me. I want you to make me as fat as you can."

"Oh YES piggy, I'm so glad you told me that, but we will soon see if you regret it. I will make you as fat as I possibly can, you can count on that."

"And..." I stammered, "I want you to know I would love for you to fuck me. I want you to remember that for when I'm stupid again, alright? You don't have to, but I want you to know you can..."

"Perhaps if you're an incredibly good piggy, I will reward you. It'll be our little secret. Motivation, if you will"

[plumpfaun]

This still fits right? It's just a little snug. Probably shrunk in the wash...

Okay, maybe I'm a little bigger but I'm not like... Fat

Am I?

[pecanwriter]

STORIES MASTERPOST

Contemporary

The Sweetest Love Letter (WG)

Shape of Happiness (WG) part 1 part 2

Hired Help (WG) part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 4.5 part 5/6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

IKEA Meatballs Mean Love (WG)

Fog Lifted (WG)

Very Uncool Love Story (MPREG, WG) part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11

Unpaid Help (WG) (HH spin-off) part 1 part 2 part 2.5 part 3

Pathetically Self-Conscious Losers (WG)

Changes Unwanted(WG) Spicy Special

Fantasy

Heavy Lies The Crown (WG)

Lord Of Lard (WG) part 1 part 2 part 3

For The Sons (MPREG)

The Orc's Lover (WG)

Reunion of Soldiers (MPREG, WG) part 1 part 2 part 3

Not Big Enough (WG)

Gluttony (WG)

The Elephant King and The Tiger Prince (WG)

Sci-fi

Big Boy Mode: Activated (WG) part 1 part 2

The Happiest Man In The Galaxy (MPREG)

[adiproseprose]

You expect to wake up to your alarm; maybe your partners arm slinking over your waist, the cat pressing itself into your space. Any of your normal indicators that it's time to wake up.

What you don't expect, however, is to feel the thick underside of a gut brushing against the bottoms of your knees, an unfamiliar dip in your sofa, normally vacant space on the couch filled in by a wide, soft expansion of...you.

The second thing you feel is something cold and wire-like being squeezed by the unfamiliar folds of your throat, coupled with cold air shooting into your nose. You reach with with a newly bloated hand, fingers tight and tingling with a numbness you recognize via hours of horny scrolling through diabetes symptoms pages. You shudder as you pull a sweat greased cord to a nasal cannula from your third or fourth chin, huffing slightly. Most likely from holding your arm up past your chest for longer than a few seconds for the first time in God knows how long.

You move onto to the main issue; hands travel down, sausage fingers wrap themselves around your third to last love handle, right under your saggy f-cups, breathing unconsciously growing harder as you wobble one of your many new slabs of meat. You smooth your hands over your belly, a pale white apron taking up your entire lap, now the size of a park bench and about as soft as a bowl of cool whip, stiff peaks melted down to a flabby mess and dripping off your thighs, burying your crotch and a swollen fupa.

You hold your arms out in front of you, cellulite and blubber dripping off of them as you think about all the times you prayed for this. Fantasizing with weighted suits, peeping at larders in public, eyes closed, hands down your pants as you wondered what it would be like to carry all of *this*. Now you're here, taking up your entire sofa, barely able to turn your blubber packed neck, wheezing from just hardly shifting your arms up and down. Amble pockets of stretch marked flab ripple across your arduous form. There's only one question that wracks your mind after you've half-processed your new reality-

"Good morning, larder."

He strolls in, grease stained plain white box wider than his shoulders gripped in both hands. You inhale through your nose, instinctively starting to scoot over to make room for him on the couch before your fluid-logged hip crashes against the arm. The act leaves your already corroded joints sore and your mouth sucking for air like a fish. He makes eye contact with you like a predator does a wounded boar. "Babe," You wheeze, the ensuing *What's going on, etc etc* cut off by a cream filled doughnut shoved past your lips. Your chins press against your throat and jiggle against your collar bone as you chew it in two big bites, taking it down your throat and sucking the white cream filling off his finger. Gulping it down leaves you panting for breath and he cuts off your struggle with a kiss, groping your right blubberous tit. You close your eyes and reach for another doughnut. Maybe you'll be fatter when you wake up...

[urthicklover]

I can’t get enough food. Bite by bite I feel myself get wetter. And I want more. More food. More fat. More horniness. To be in a cycle of passing out stuffed to waking up to eat more. I’m always craving to be full. Even in my dreams.

I think I’ve grown gluttonous ✨

[esmeislewd]

Mortals deliberately gorging themselves on sweets and fatty food before being summoned to the chambers of the vampire holding them captive to overtime fatten them up. Overconfident of their unchanging body the vampire ignores all the signs and makes no effort to work out whilst their cattle spend their days trying to burn off the excess calories. Whilst it's not 100% successful there's a lot of them and they're all gaining weight far slower than their blood-sucking captor.

This continues for years until at last they're confident and launch their escape attempt. Alerted to this the vampire flies into a fit of rage and tries to recapture them all but is too fat to fly and supernatural speed doesn't help very much when you get stuck in doorways and have to waddle~

[shamefulsecretgaining]

Reblog if you want cheeks, chins, and neck rolls so fat that your face starts to sink beneath the sheer amount of it all, making it nearly impossible to speak or even see because your lips are forced into a pucker and your eyes are becoming obscured by your own flesh!!