#wg stories

[hungry-and-hornyyyyy]

This fetish has full control over my mind, body and soul, I'm completely helpless. i want nothing more than to submit to a life of gluttony. I don't know why my brain is wired to associate pleasure with fat and food, but it does and i cant seem to control myself. I need a feeder who will take hold of my potential and fatten me beyond my wildest fantasy

[growmydarling]

i want you to swell up so fat and round that you jiggle with every single step 🥰

[honeybelly]

Can’t believe how round I’m getting 🥵 I’m getting closer to my goal of 162 every day. Really trying to hit that milestone because it will have been 50lbs since I officially started gaining.

Every night I go to bed so stuffed it hurts to breath. Most people watch their figure, try to keep weight off. Meanwhile I’m snacking and binging until I psychically can’t. I’ll eat until I feel sick and even then I’ll wait till there’s just enough room for me to have another cookie or down a can of soda.

Thinking when I was younger I’d fit in XS shirts and 00 jeans.. none of those garments would fit me properly now, and if it somehow managed to stretch enough to fit it wouldn’t be long until I ate myself out of it.

I’m getting lazier. Bigger. Closer to my goal 🧸✨

[mygoo]

I'm going to outlive my son. It's the saddest realization for any parent, but it's one I can't deny anymore. See, my son is fat. No really, faaaaaat. Take whatever you're thinking in your head and double it, heck triple it even and you're probably still thinking too small.

His mother and I tried for years to get him active, to get him interested in the outdoors, sports, heck any physical activity, but the only physical activity he cared about were ones that ended in food.

We tried at first to guide him into making better decisions. Surely as he matured he'd realize that all the food and all the weight wasn't worth it, but the gentle treatment didn't work. We never wanted to be strict parents, but we decided that drastic measures had to be taken when he reached his teens with his weight still climbing. We rid the house of anything unhealthy and kept an eye on his eating like a hawk and he finally started dropping weight to our slight comfort.

Looking back now I see how short-sighted we were. It's one thing to control your kid, but he won't be a kid forever. At some point he's going to need independence, a job, a car, all the facets of a normal adult life and hopefully someone to share it with. Out on his own he could eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted, especially once we found out his first job was not what he originally told us, but a job at one of the local fast food joints.

Slowly at first, but surely his weight started creeping up again. He'd bounce around between jobs depending on what cuisine he was especially feeling and how long they'd keep him on before realizing how much he was literally eating into their profits. We'd failed. Just like his youth anything he did was motivated by food. We were all out of ideas. Time passed by in this stalemate, the only needle moving faster being the one on our bathroom scale.

We had thought about kicking him out, but at this point I don't think he could even live on his own. He had every weight-related medical condition in the book, every one a missed wake up call to turn back. Things that people in their 50s would start worrying about, not someone less than half their age.

Getting on disability took away the last reason for him to ever get off his copious ass, so it's no surprise that his mobility vaporized shortly thereafter. Some days I wonder if he'll see 30. It'll surely be a miracle of medical science if he does.

I couldn't tell if it was a blessing or a curse the day I found his online persona, through the further I looked, the more I gravitated towards the latter. It finally made everything make quasi-sense, a reason for the way he lived his life, if you can even call it that, but it did so in such a disgusting, heartbreaking way. He catalogues his gains to a sadistic audience hungry to watch him blow up. He talks about how much he loves his weight, shockingly especially its side-effects, reveling in being out of breath simply from rolling over in bed. The post where he declared himself immobile is proudly pinned to the top of his page, racking up comments of support and congratulations from the people feeding into his addiction, both figuratively and literally with constant food deliveries I had long-assumed he had ordered for himself. It's all so fucking disgusting, and it's something I will never tell my wife, something I will take to my grave long after his.

As far as I'm concerned, he's already gone. He was lost 100s of pounds ago. There's no son in that void of a room, just a mound of flesh, endlessly growing until the day it doesn't. Goodbye, son. I hope you really love all your flab like you say you do, because it's all you got, and there's a ton of it.

[heavyheavycream]

PART 1 of @pokefan-fa 's huuge feederism commission!

[hungry-and-hornyyyyy]

My deepest fantasy is to never stop getting fatter, i want to lie around all day stuffing myself until i cant move. I want to live to get fatter, i need a dedicated dominant feeder who will force, tease and encourage my overindulgence. I want to break doctors scales, every year appointment turning up bigger each time, easily gaining over 100 pounds over each visit. I want to be humiliated, forced to wear too tight clothes because I've outgrown plus size clothes sizes, my enormous double belly slapping heavily against my equally jiggling thighs. The ripply of my growing rolls all over my body sends me crazy, the fat that so naturally shapes my bloated body turns me on like nothing else. I want you to tease me for being a lazy fat fuck pig, knowing every word edges me on. Force feed me weight gain shake whilst setting a vibrator between my legs, not letting me come until i finish every last drop. I will literally devote my whole life to only getting fatter. Im addicted, it turns me on so badly. This horny piggy is desperate

[honeybelly]

I had an idea for a toxic feedee x feeder relationship 🧸✨

The feedee could have a health scare (or just go to the doctor for a regular check-up). The doctor comes in to greet them; they warn them of developing issues caused by the weight.

The feeder feigns concern, and chastises their pet for being so unhealthy. The doctor steps out to order some tests leaving the pair alone.

After the doctor leaves the room the feeder slips a candy bar out of their jacket pocket and instructs their piggy to eat it before the doctor comes back.

If their prized hog objects the feeder will threaten them with having to eat two. They explain that even if they haven’t finished by the time the doctor returns they still need to keep eating, even in front of the stranger 🐷🐷

[mygoo]

The scene at their house as they were taken out by emergency services after falling was surprisingly not the most embarrassing thought rattling around in their brain. Just hearing the numbers threatened to stop their already stressed heart cold.

992lbs.

You'd have thought the nine burly firemen it took to carry them out past the broken down wall, through their garage would have tipped them off. Of course they had to know they kept gaining after the scale at home stopped being able to weigh them, but the obfuscation of reality allowed them to hope in vain that it wasn't this much.

Less than ten pounds shy of a thousand. Quadruple digits are of course constantly on the mind of a person so ruled by their fatty desires, dreaded as another milestone to their super morbid obesity. Confronting it was enough to seriously kick them into gear about turning things around, though they knew it was entirely too late... But it was going to be different this time. Different than all the other health crisisies and weight milestones that sent them into the same frenzy countless times before.

The diet lasted three days after getting home. Followed by the biggest all out binge of a week and a half of their life. They reluctantly and shakily hefted themselves on the extra capacity scale provided by the hospital intended to track their weight loss.

1,021lbs.

What should be a shock was a foolish relief. It happened. Then a moment later it's already in the rearview mirror. Besides realistically what's the next meaningful milestone? a ton? That's inconceivable... well with them at least absurdly far away. Right?

[allfattenedup]

Part of a wg story I found in my drafts:

· · ─────── · 🐷 · ─────── · ·

"If you'll let me, I'll make sure you never stop feeling like this," you whisper, suddenly tender, kneeling on the couch next to me, halfway to straddling.

"Like what?" I ask, voice rough with want as I look down. I've never been able to eat myself this big on my own. I've never even seen myself this big. My cheeks burn as I carefully feel the heavy sides of my new gut.

"On fire," you whisper, watching me explore what you've done to me. "Every nerve lit up.

"You're great, and this is..." My head falls back in pleasure against the back of the couch, hands pressed to either side of the belly that doesn't feel like mine. Heavy and full. So, so big. "..this is incredible. But if we keep doing this, I'm going to..." I bite my lip. The thought is hot. Too hot. Way way too hot, too dangerous. I can't let myself get swept away in it. "This was supposed to be a one-time thing," I protest half-heartedly.

"I know." You nod, sweetly massaging a roll, and I gasp, face crumpling in ecstasy. "And it can be... if you want it to." "No." The word comes out to my dismay, but I can't keep it in. This can't be the only time we do this. The thought of it slipping through my fingers makes my voice urgent. "No, please. Just... a little more."

"Okay," you coo, kissing down my cheek, my slightly soft jaw. "But you know that if you keep seeing me, you're going to get fat, right?" Your breath is so hot on my ear, and you nip at my earlobe. "You're going to get very... very fat."

My head spins. My belly throbs. I can't breathe. "...yes."

"Are you ready for that?"

I swallow, and decide to answer honestly. "I don't think so."

"But...?"

"But I don't care." The desperate need in my rough whisper alarms even me.

You lean forward and kiss my nose. We're so close, I can feel the heat of your body radiating into mine. "Thank you for being honest," you whisper, and your hand moves excruciatingly slowly from gently rubbing a roll, around to settle on the straining front of my belly, and you place your palm flat, slowly beginning to rub circles. "You don't have to worry. I'm taking care of you now. I'll make you nice and fat, and if you get embarrassed, I'll make you feel good. Okay?”

“Okay.” I gasp, arching up what little I can into your hand.

“And if you get nervous - about how fast you’re changing, or any of it - I’ll just push a nice treat past those lips and you’ll remember you’re my docile little fat pet. Won’t you?”

“Yes.” "We'll get you a nice heavy belly," you promise, sliding the rest of the way onto my lap, sharing it with the gut you've already started to put on me, and drag over the bag of chocolates. "Don't you worry."

[growmydarling]

i want your fat, gorgeous ass eating so noisily and sloppily that everyone can't help but stare at her porcine scene from the corner of the restaurant. you're making such an exhibition of yourself. moaning, pulling at your too-tight shirt as it squeezes against the plump layer of fat encompassing your midsection. people are gasping at the way you seem to thoroughly enjoy the juice running off your chin(s) and the way you breathe heavily, almost *snorting*, as you gaze lovingly at the table filled to every edge with food for no one but yourself. Greedy.

[trans-gainerism]

As hot as immobility is, I love the idea of waddling so much.

Being so large that my gut dominates my stance, my world revolves around it now in more ways than one. It’s as if it has its own gravitational pull, jutting out and always entering a room before me - leading the way and guiding me; So big I can always see it, unable to ignore it - so gargantuan even when it’s empty.

The soft, doughy flab that cushions my body quakes and jiggles with every movement - any touch sending waves across my expanse.

The way gravity pulls at my belly, reminding me how heavy it is as it sways between my legs; I try and heft each tree-trunk legs one in front the other, fighting against the fleshy apron that almost reaches my knees.

I’d have to sit down after a pitiful few minutes of huffing through my slow steps, resting on a creaking chair as I shove a snack in my mouth, claiming I ‘need the energy’.

I’d be a public spectacle, crowds parting for me as they wouldn’t want to be trampled by a wobbling whale.

Immobility is hot, but I love the struggle of moving under the weight I’ve burdened myself with.

Make me waddle. 😍

[mygoo]

Thanksgrowing

Just a quick holiday vignette that I wrote out in one go.

Sean had an ulterior motive for his first year hosting his extended family for Thanksgiving. The spread was huge and decadent, spilling over the large table set up in his living room leaving the plates as the only surface clear of food.

A spread like this would be unexpected for his normally-sized family, but Sean had made sure to use his secret enchantments to make sure no one would see it as odd and especially sure that they wouldn't notice what came next.

As they all dug into the feast they were blind to the fact that regardless of the ungodly amount of food sliding down into their gullets, it only felt like a drop in the bucket. Sean was siphoning off almost all of the food his 35+ member family was eating, growing himself rapidly while he chowed down in his natural manner as well.

By the end of the meal, everyone had collapsed back in their chairs, rubbing their bellies, finally having eaten enough to stuff themselves. Enough meant there wasn't a scrap of food left on the table, bones licked dry, even crumbs hoovered up.

In the middle sat Sean having gained 100lbs+ from the ordeal patting his own now much larger belly, his family oblivious to the gain. His dad spoke up in between sighs due to his overstuffed belly, "Wow son... you really put out a great spread... I think we have a new family tradition."

Sean imagined next year with excitement and anticipation. Does he have to wait a whole year though? He's sure there's more holidays he can offer to host.

[epigstolary]

Rebound

It has to hurt to see what you look like now. All the shapeless mounds of fat weighing you down, distorting what was, until fairly recently, an average figure. You were so close to getting back to a normal weight, too — years of struggling to come down from a size at which you couldn’t lumber more than a few feet before getting red-faced and breaking out in a sweat. And you did it; somehow, you got yourself small enough to be able to shop in regular clothing stores again, and to not even need to buy their biggest sizes. Everyone was so proud of you. Telling you how good you looked. How much healthier it was to be this size. How much happier you had to be, now that you could move around and be active again. You’d beaten obesity.

Except you hadn’t, had you? Because every diet fails eventually, and fat doesn’t go away. Fat cells shrink when you diet. They quiet down when you restrain your appetite. And then they wait, lurking in that slender body, disguised by loose skin. Waiting for their moment to come back with a vengeance.

You may not even remember what triggered it now — maybe it was a really rough couple of days at work, maybe a relationship disappointment, maybe drama with family or friends. But something made you take two cheat days in a row, just to treat yourself a little and make up for everything crappy you’d had to deal with lately. And that was all it took to wake the monster sleeping inside you.

A couple of cheat days turned into having snacks around that you hadn’t allowed yourself since you started losing weight — because you had things under control, right? Portion sizes started creeping upward again, and fattier, carbier foods started replacing the lean meats and fresh veggies that helped you shed the pounds in the first place — because you lost it before, so you can lose it again if you need to, right? You went easier on yourself, skipping morning walks and trips to the gym with increasing frequency, giving yourself fewer and fewer opportunities to burn all the excess calories you’d started dumping down your throat again — because you were always going to make up for the missed sessions at some point, right? At least, those were the ways you rationalized your backsliding to yourself.

You probably didn’t know this before, but regains are a bitch. Your body’s felt you starving for years — that’s all a diet is, as far as it’s concerned — and now the famine’s over. Food’s abundant again. Time to eat and try to get you ready for the next famine, which it has no way of knowing is never coming, unfortunately for you. Every calorie it can spare from keeping you alive gets absorbed into those fat cells that used to be dormant. The weight packs on faster than it ever went away. And almost before you realize it, your puffy belly is back, your ass is filling up more of your pants, and your thunder thighs and double chin are beginning to make their appearance.

I’m sure you tried to get things back under control once you realized what was happening. You tried to get back out there and exercise again once your girth started popping buttons and tearing the seat out of pants, and you had to pull your fat clothes out of storage. You tried to eat better and ignore the cravings for everything high in fat and sugar and everything bad for you when your love handles and bingo wings and thunder thighs started rubbing against chair arms and door frames in a way they hadn’t for a long time. And then, once all of that had failed, you tried to simply ignore what was happening — to pay no attention to how your body was ballooning up to fill even your fat clothes; how difficult it was to heave your hanging belly and plump ass up and haul it wherever you needed to go; how the face in the mirror wasn’t the thin, lean, angular one you’d gotten used to seeing, but the bloated, pinched, bulbous fat face set atop a cascade of double chins that you thought you’d never have to look at again. Just muddle through, you must have thought, and eventually you’ll get a handle on this.

How’d all that work out for you? Not great, judging by the way you look now. Those legs that look like pinched sacks of custard, almost too blobby and bulky to move, don’t exactly signal someone in control of their situation. Neither does the enormous, wobbling belly spreading out over your knee folds and across the bed, or the hips bulging out at either side like melting lumps of dough overflowing a mold. And the double chins, resting on two massive boobs each the size of a fat belly in their own right, squeezed by the fat of pillowy arms plopped uselessly at either side — well, all that hardly looks like someone keeping their weight in check with responsible diet and exercise. I’m gonna guess you’re not, are you?

That’s why you had to call me in. Trust me, I see people just like you all the time. Weight’s bounced around for years, they’ve tried to diet and exercise, sometimes it’s worked for a while; but eventually, it spirals out of control. Like this. Really, you probably would have been better off if you’d just accepted being sort of fat. Beats wrecking your metabolism with a crash diet and dealing with the rebound effect — getting really, really fat like this. And now you need someone to help with all the things that you’re much too big, much too heavy to do.

I’m also supposed to help you manage your diet, get some physical activity, see if we can keep what mobility you have and try to recover more. But… that’s not really my style. See, I’ve also been around enough people like you to know that there’s no real way of coming back from this. Sure, I could probably get you to lose some weight, get you down to a size where you can wedge your flab behind the wheel of a car or cram it into the seat of a mobility scooter, get you back into the world for a while. But we both know you can’t stick to that, don’t we? The same habits that got you into this situation to begin with are going to blow you right back up into the same helpless fatty again eventually, aren’t they? Matter of time. And just imagine what a second rebound like this one would do to you! You’re already most of the way to a half-ton; another yo-yo, and you’re down for the count, immobilized probably forever under more fat than even the two of us can hope to handle.

I’d hate to see that happen to you; no lie, I really would. So I’ll make you a deal. You give up on trying to slim down to a normal weight, and you accept that you’re going to be a housebound blob from here on out. Forget about the diet and exercises, and make your peace with filling out most of a king bed by yourself. Do all that, let me take the wheel, and I’ll make sure you have everything you might need — and I do mean everything. I think you’ll find it a lot more comfortable that way.

I take it that’s a no? Listen, there’s no need to be personally insulting. Remember, I’m not the one who fattened you up like a prize pig, too big to reach the bottom of your belly, too fat to move without totally exhausting yourself — that was all you. So fine; we’ll do it your way. Get you losing weight for a while. But remember how easy it is to gain weight back on the rebound. And remember who’s really controlling your diet and your activity. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when your belly’s down to your feet, your arms are too bloated to move, and you’re smothered under half a ton of lard.

Remember — regains are a bitch.

[fatguarddog]

Damn, fatty... you really get off on the attention, don't you?

The idea that people all over the world are eagerly waiting for you to grow, to see you pop buttons, to watch you chug shakes and belch as your slap your fat gut that seems bigger and bigger by the day at this rate

That's right, tubby. Strangers online are getting off to your gains and it gets you off right back, doesn't it? How much much farther are you willing to push yourself for the rush of it all? Will you stuff yourself day in and day out purely because the thrill of someone else wanting this enough to pay you for it makes you wet?

For some people, it's just a fantasy for likes and shares to magically turn into gained weight, but for you it's basically becoming reality now

The internet fattened you up and you have no intention of ever letting it stop

[cult-mommy]

This shirt used to fit before all of the crumbl 🍪

[hungry-and-hornyyyyy]

Make me fatter and fatter until i cant move, make me fatter and fatter until all im good for is fucking and feeding, im so fucked up just hurry up and make me fatter and fatter