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[riverindulge]

can’t get my fat ass up to save my life 🥵

[riverindulge]

With The Band

(CW: intox, alcohol usage)

You hadn't banked on your night going this way. Not that you're not thrilled, you just hadn't expected it. Your new friend's band was playing a gig in the dimly lit back room of a dive bar and you were eager, albeit nervous, to make a good impression on your friend's friends. You'd put on your favorite outfit and threw back a PBR tallboy at home for confidence, ignoring the fact that your go-to ripped jeans and beloved graphic t were fitting much more snugly than usual, and REALLY ignoring the fact that it was turning you on. You hadn't intended on your recent weight gain, just decided to start eating the way you really wanted, but you couldn't deny that you were really, really into getting fatter.

You got to the bar, caught your friend, said hi, and stood around awkwardly for a moment before deciding you needed another drink if you were gonna get through this. After taking a shot of whiskey at the bar, you took your second beer back to the performance space and noticed a cute queer sitting behind a merch table.

"You with the band??" you asked them, gesturing to the tshirts and stickers. "No," they cracked. "Oh, uh sorry, I thought-" "I'm kidding. Obviously I'm with the band." They smiled, amused with themself, but clocked that you were nervous and pushed forward by asking, "you're Joey's friend, right? From his DnD game?" "Yeah, I am," you answered. "Oh, nice! I've heard a lot about you, he's really excited that you're here." Pleasantly surprised, you and the merch boy kept chatting quietly while the first band played. Noticing you'd drained your beer, Merch Boy asked if you'd like another, "if rehearsal was any indicator of how this gig is gonna go, you'll need it. My treat." Just as you were about to agree, a belch snuck out. You put a hand to your mouth in embarrassment and excused yourself, but Merch Boy just giggled. "I'll take that as a yes," they said, and made their way back to the bar.

You watched them go. They were cute, exceptionally cute. And were you crazy or had they blushed when you burped in their face? Was it the alcohol making you imagine that they'd been sneaking glances at your round belly straining against your shirt? Your train of thought was cut off when they came back with two shots and three (?) beers, the cans nestled into the crooks of their elbows. "Shot?" they offered you the glass, but you decided against and watched, charmed, as they threw back both shots themself before handing you a beer and cracking open their own. Who was the third beer for??

You got your answer partway through the band's (rough) set when Merch Boy handed it over to you. You drank and danced and when the set was done, you gathered with Merch Boy, Joey, and the band to chat and drink some more. Merch Boy, more than a little tipsy at this point, had become pretty handsy and was touching everyone as they enthusiastically spoke, but you noticed their hands kept "accidentally" ending up on your gut, now a little bloated from the beers, and their eyes lingered on it, too. When they made a comment about some bear bar up the street, you impulsively replied back, "so you are into fat guys then?" They blushed again. God, they were adorable. "Yeah, and? You trying to take me home?" Now you were the one blushing. The group's conversation continued on, but neither of you could stop looking at each other.

Finally, the bassist decided it was time to go and Joey and the others followed suit, leaving you and Merch Boy alone, drunk, giggly, and enamored with each other, staring goofily into one another's eyes, looking for signals to keep going. Eventually, Merch Boy spoke up, "I'm drunk." "Me too. And starving." "I bet you are, big guy." Big guy?? That made you even hungrier than you already were. "There's a really good burger spot down the street," Merch Boy said, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

The two of you glided drunkenly down the street into a late-night burger joint that reeked gloriously of grease and meat. Merch Boy ordered first, then you. As you were about to pay, Merch Boy piped in with "could we add another double cheeseburger and another large chocolate shake?" They fished out some cash from their wallet, and looked at you innocently as they slid it over the counter to the cashier. You got the feeling the extra food wasn't for them.

Minutes later, you were seated at a small booth with your gut just brushing the edge of the table and a sizeable pile of burgers, fries, and milkshakes in front of you. You and Merch Boy ate, them noticeably slower than you. You were practically inhaling it, which would have been embarrassing were you not drunk and starving and horny. "Did you like the set?" they asked. "Uhhhh...it was good. It was fine," you said. They laughed, "it's okay, I won't tell Joey. That's the first time they've played with that drummer, so it was just kind of fucked. Usually they're pretty good!" They took a long pause to sip their drink then innocently dropped, "so Joey says you've gained a lot of weight recently." It was then that you noticed that Merch Boy had stopped eating their fries and had slid them back to you. You also noticed that you'd housed an order of fries, a double cheeseburger, a single cheeseburger, and a large milkshake. You were actually really, really full. Your gut was achy, bloated, pushing further into the table than it had been just a half hour earlier. Merch Boy looked you up and down, gazing lustily at your rounded belly. Fuck, you weren't crazy. They had been eyeing your fatass all night, calling you big guy, touching your gut, buying you beers. And maybe you were drunk off alcohol and food, or something about the desperate look in Merch Boy's eyes, but you were feeling bold, bloated, and sexy. You leaned back as best you could, let out a huge belch, and patted your gut. Merch Boy squirmed in his seat. "Yeah, I have put on a few pounds," you said coolly, "mind if I finish the rest of this?" They nodded, practically melting. And, though you were almost full to bursting, you managed to finish the last of the food, moaning and burping, putting on a little show for Merch Boy, who was clearly enjoying it. "You're so hot," they said breathlessly as you pushed back the empty tray and belched helplessly into your fist. "Wanna get out of here?" they asked. The ball now fully in your court, you answered, "you're so impatient, babe. I gotta finish my milkshake first."

[riverindulge]

Cheesy Stuffed Shells (x)

[riverindulge]

I catch you on sneaking a glance on me as I watch TV, snacking.

There is a lot to look at. Thanks to your help, I gained a considerable amount of weight recently, nearing 40 pounds. My belly rounds out in my lap and my love handles bulge at my sides. My chin plunges into a roll of fat whenever I lower my head. My thighs spread on the couch, thick and heavy. Even my upper arms feel plump as they plunge into rolls under my armpits.

I blush, feeling the hotness of your gaze. I tug at the hem of my t-shirt which rides up my belly. You are examining each of my rolls, each soft point. Self-consciously, I reach into my packet of chips, only to find it empty. I blush deeper.

"Craving another snack?" you ask, smirking.

Embarrassed, I nod, yet again feeling my new double chin forming.

You reach for a box full of donuts. You sit beside me and open it. There are six treats inside. You hover the first donut over my mouth.

"Open up," you say, knowing very well how crazy these words drive me.

I shiver. "I'm a bit too full for all of these," I mumble.

"Nonsense. You are never too full for anything these days."

I bite my lip. This is too true. I open my mouth obediently, and you shove the donut inside. It's glazed with chocolate, sickly sweet and fluffy. I gulp it down in one go. Better to start fast before my stomach realizes how full it really is.

"Another one." You take the second donut, one with colourful sprinkles. I open my mouth again and chew furiously, my cheeks bulging. The donut lands heavily in my belly.

"You're getting so nice and fat," you say, reaching for the third donut. "You're doing so very, very well."

My cheeks turn crimson. "You're taking such good care of me."

"You bet I am. Now, open wide."

Third donut, covered with icing sugar, lands inside my mouth, the sugar peppering my plump lips. I'm really starting to get full. I force a gulp.

"Another one."

"Let me..." I pant. "Let me catch my breath."

You hand me a bottle of apple juice. I drink gratefully. It's always juice, never water. Hydration is key, but I can't afford not to be consuming any calories while I do it. While I drink, I slowly massage my belly which started to hang lower between my legs.

"Okay, I'm ready," I say. You reach for the fourth donut. This one looks plain, but I know it has cream inside. It's rich, heavy. It leaves a sweet mess inside my mouth. My belly gurgles. It's getting tight now.

"Good job," you praise. "Imagine how much fatter you'll grow after today."

"Aren't I a bit too fat?" I ask timidly. "I mean, I technically just became obese..."

You click your tongue. "Silly you. These are made-up categories. You could be so much fatter, my dumpling. Open up."

It's the fifth donut. Sticky and sweet jelly is stuffed inside it, and I take my time with chewing it. My t-shirt now completely exposes my bloated belly. I groan slightly as I swallow.

"Just one more," you say, but it doesn't fool me. The last donut is an everything: it has chocolate, sprinkles, and cream inside. A caloric bomb. A good conclusion to the feast.

How many calories have I even consumed today? 5,000? 6,000? Lately, I stopped counting. You do it for me, anyway.

You trace your fingers over my belly, and I whimper. Your hand lands on the hem of my pants, buried somewhere under my belly. You tug at it.

"Are these getting snug?" you ask.

"Yeah," I breathe out. "I've been only wearing them... huff... for three months."

You smile so sweetly that I know I'm in trouble. "Am I right in thinking that if you outgrow them, you'll have to find a special plus size store?"

I nod again, embarrassed and so, so turned on. "Yeah. They don't make them larger than 2XL."

"Well then," you say, "why don't you eat the last donut."

I open my mouth. The triple sweetness assaults my senses. Painfully slowly, I chew and gulp it down. My belly surges forward. You immediately give it your attention, massaging and provoking burps from me, easing up my discomfort. God, I ate so much. I'm so full. So full, fat, and heavy.

You hover over me. Your next words, you whisper right into my ear.

"I'm going to order some takeout. I want these pants outgrown by the end of the week."

I shiver. Slowly, I realize just how huge you want me.

[riverindulge]

butches in tight tight shirts that their bellies poke out of. butches in wife pleasers that stopped fitting 50lbs ago. butches stuffed full and getting tummy rubs. butches absolutely squeezed into their button ups, nearly bursting all the buttons off.

[riverindulge]

wow it’s been a while since i’ve posted on here… so what do you guys think?

[riverindulge]

Mini Cinnamon Roll Cheesecakes

[riverindulge]

I’ve been looking at these pics all day going “holy shit I look so fat in these” and….its cuz I’m kinda fat now lol. not chubby. not husky. none of those gentle, politically correct euphemisms. I got FAT.

my gut noticeably sticks out past my rack. I can feel my chin crease against my neck. I’ve got the face and body of a weightlifter who took the bulk way too far. even my hands look thicker and softer. people’s first impression of me is no longer my broad shoulders, my built, athletic body. all of that has been smothered under a nice layer of fat, purposefully. and it’s exhilarating. I love being the stereotypical fat butch dyke. I love seconds, I love snacks, I love how much I can eat now. I love being a total, unrepentant fatass. I never want to be skinny ever again.

[riverindulge]

Welcome to ORBITAL, a new queer gaining and encouraging zine. We are a digital zine of curated community content and are currently open for submissions!

www.orbitalzine.com

Check out the website for more information. Want to contribute to Issue #1? Our submissions are open until May 31.

Why Orbital? We think the word speaks to our love of all things massive, bodies that give off their own gravitational pull. And we want this publication to be a place we can all gather round and share stories, art, essays, and other work reflecting the whole galaxy of gainer/encourager experience.

[riverindulge]

Another portrait of a girl feeling full at work

[riverindulge]

i love eating two dinners in one sitting, idk if it’s noticeable though 🫣

[riverindulge]

[riverindulge]

feedees: a manifatso

i know you're out there.

you're like me: you think anything worth doing is worth overdoing. you think a body, either yours or a consenting partner, is a beautiful soft thing worth spoiling. worth indulgence. worth worship.

and you're full of nervous, feverish curiosity: this body could be softer, couldn't it? shouldn't it? wider hips? rounder belly? where would the stretch marks appear? how quickly will this body outgrow its old clothes? how much can this body eat in one sitting?

and then you're reaching exciting new firsts: this body is the biggest it's ever been. this body has never been so sensitive. this body has outgrown its wardrobe, its seatbelt, its bed, its bathtub. this body has never eaten so much in a snack, a meal, a sitting, a day, a week.

and now you're reveling in it: this body has become a vehicle for simulation, satisfaction, oversatiation. this body is so greedy, so lazy, so needy. this body is so expansive, so lush, so soft. this body craves more, and it will have what it wants. this body is horny, this body is hungry, this body is both? this body wants to consume everything, burst buttons, break furniture, consume everything, and beyond.

but it's not just the body, is it? it never was. it's a hungry, greedy mindset, choosing to push a body to the limits of human capability. it's looking for ways to experience sensory and sensual overload, to give in to every impulse and succumb to pure appetite. this isn't just a kink-- on some level this is reaching into the realm of the divine to pursue a lascivious, insatiable lifestyle hitherto only known by the gods. humans have never known this kind of life, never been able to consume so much, grow so large, and feel so much pleasure.

but you will.

maybe that makes you a deviant, maybe that makes you unusual, but for however long you want, i want you to feast. i want you to gorge yourself and experience new plateaus of rapture, surrounding yourself with admiring online onlookers, mouths agape in worshipful awe, and the remains of the entire costco cake you just demolished. i want you panting, sweating, groaning and bursting at the seams with your sheer fucking gluttony. i want you round and bulging, bloated and engorged, rolls jiggling, as you moan and writhe under the weight of yet another 10K caloric cataclysm and come to the orgasmic realization that you have finally, truly

let

yourself

GO.

[riverindulge]

Kinda wanna get addicted to soda ngl. Im not actually super into sugary beverages but the thought of developing a craving for sugar that gets me fat as fuck is kind of hot

[riverindulge]

You stuff a pillow under your t-shirt.

You don't really understand why it excites you so much; you are only a child. But the idea of carrying a round belly everywhere you go sends a thrill through your tummy. You want to eat snacks and make it happen, but it feels forbidden. You are not allowed that many snacks, anyway.

***

Just on the cusp of adolescence, you go through a chubby faze. The turmoil that it results with confuses you. It feels so right - the chubby belly, the round cheeks, the tubby figure. It feels like you. But you're twelve, and twelve-year-olds are cruel. The bullying is too much. A year later, you experience a growth spur, and you return to medium-sized again.

***

You try to live out the normative life. Never letting yourself truly enjoy food, never allowing yourself to indulge. You try to suppress all the urges, but it's impossible to suppress them entirely. From time to time, you would hear about someone who gained a significant amount of weight. It sends a shiver down your spine. It's always told as a story of failure, but it never feels like it to you. Sometimes, you'd wander into darker corners of the Internet and read a couple of stories. It frustrates you that nothing gets you off quite as quickly as this.

***

It's hard to say when it happens, exactly, but at some point you reevaluate your life and try to start living on your own terms. No more "pretending to be normal", no more trying to attain an ideal that doesn't make you happy anyway. It's freeing. It encompasses many areas of your life, but you still don't dare to touch your kink, don't dare to think about it too much. But then, something else happens - you're not that guarded anymore, and also, your metabolism is no longer the metabolism of a teenager. You snack a bit more, you eat slightly bigger meals. You gain a couple of pounds. And then a couple more. You don't really even notice it.

***

Your Medium pants don't button. You feel two different feelings at once. In your head is dread: "how could I let myself go? What now??" In your lower belly, there is a thrill: "What if I indulged just a bit more?" You reflect on it a bit, thinking how good letting go was in different areas of your life. You decide to continue, just for a while longer. Just a couple more pounds. It's not going to be that noticeable anyway. You buy pants in size Large, and it's hard to admit it to yourself how thrilling this is.

***

You suddenly feel so much better when you eat more. Not just mentally, but also physically! What a scam the diet culture is!

You grow into your new pants bit by bit.

You buy some heavy cream.

***

It's a year later.

You sit on your sofa, thick legs spread wide. Your belly rests in your lap comfortably, a round ball of fat, now slightly taut as you are full after a large dinner. You are watching your favourite TV show, lazily snacking from a large package of chips. With every bite, your double chin wobbles slightly. You lick your chubby fingers and, grunting a bit, you adjust the waistband on your sweatpants, moving it lower, so that it doesn't squeeze your underbelly. You retired your Large pants a couple of months ago, and now, the XL is getting slightly snug. It's probably time for some shopping again. You wonder when the time comes when you can't find your size in regular stores anymore.

You smile gently, puffing out your round cheeks. You feel like yourself.

[riverindulge]

Can’t finish your food? Just give it to me, I’ll help u - how do u think I got that fat 🐷

[riverindulge]

i think part of what excites me so much about gaining and feeding is the way it combines immediate gratification and hedonism with the eroticism of long-term delayed gratification. it's so hot to indulge whenever you want, and even be made to indulge in that "too much of a good thing" way, but the growth itself takes longer, and because of that when it becomes noticeable, impossible to ignore, it's so much more rewarding.