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gainercontent · 2 months ago

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Max's Body Transformation Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a guy named Max. He’d always been the type to go with the flow, never really concerned with how his body looked. But over the years, something shifted. The more he focused on his personal life, the more he found himself exploring the world of gaining—intentionally increasing his body size. It was a journey that started out as a casual fascination, something new to experiment with, but it quickly turned into an obsession.

Max loved the feeling of indulging in all his favorite foods without a second thought. Every burger, every pizza, every extra dessert made him feel both comforted and proud. He wasn’t just growing in size, but in confidence. As his weight crept up from 160 pounds to 220, he began to embrace his body’s new curves, finding a sense of belonging within a community that understood him. He reveled in the admiration of others who appreciated his transformation.

But, deep down, Max began to notice something was changing. His energy levels started to drop. Simple tasks became harder, and he found himself out of breath after even short walks. What had once felt empowering now felt like a weight, literally and figuratively.

One evening, as he sat in his favorite diner, shoveling down another plate of food, Max had a realization. He wasn’t feeling happy anymore. He wasn't feeling his best, and his body, which he had so proudly built up, now felt like a prison. He longed to feel more agile, more active—like he once had when he was lighter.

Max decided it was time to make a change. It wasn’t about fitting into anyone else's standards, but about reclaiming his health and well-being. He began by cutting back on the late-night snacks and focused on healthier choices. He didn’t want to throw away the progress he had made, but he knew it was time to find balance.

Slowly, the weight began to come off. Not in dramatic, punishing ways, but through small, consistent steps. Max started working out, not to drastically shrink himself, but to feel stronger, to rebuild his stamina, to reclaim the energy that had once come so easily. He dropped down to 185 pounds, a healthy place where he felt comfortable in his own skin.

Through this journey, Max discovered that body transformation isn’t just about appearance—it’s about how you feel inside, too. He realized he could be happy at any size, as long as he was looking after himself and living authentically. He still embraced who he was, but he now felt empowered by his new balance, ready to face life with a new perspective.

Max learned that sometimes, change is necessary—not to fit into someone else’s mold, but to create the best version of yourself, no matter what size you are.

*****

As Max settled into his new routine, feeling stronger and healthier than he had in months, he thought he had it all figured out. But one evening, as he relaxed on the couch after a workout, something strange happened. The voice came at first as a whisper, almost like a distant memory—a longing for something familiar.

"One more cheat day won’t hurt," it said softly, as though tempting him with the comfort of old habits.

Max shook his head, trying to ignore it. He had come so far, felt so good. He couldn’t let a fleeting thought pull him back to the place he had worked so hard to escape. But the voice didn’t go away. Instead, it lingered, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

Days passed, and the voice grew more persistent. It wasn’t just a whisper anymore; it was like an echo, looping in his mind during quiet moments. He found himself daydreaming about the meals he used to indulge in—rich burgers, decadent milkshakes, and gooey pizzas. The memory of those comforts pulled him in like a magnetic force.

Max tried to push through, focusing on his progress and the healthy choices he had committed to. But then, one day, as he found himself walking past a fast-food joint, the voice came again, louder now, almost a demand.

"You deserve it," it urged. "You’ve worked hard. Just one meal, one night, one bite."

At first, he resisted. He reminded himself of how much better he felt now—his energy levels, the way his clothes fit, the way he could move with ease. He couldn’t let that slip away for a momentary indulgence.

But then, later that week, when his friends invited him out to dinner, Max found himself sitting at the table, staring at the menu, struggling to fight the cravings. His mind kept drifting back to the voice, almost as if it was an old friend that he was missing. It was like his own desires were betraying him, whispering about the satisfaction he used to feel when he let go, when he didn’t worry about the consequences.

"Just one meal," the voice insisted again. "You know it’ll taste amazing. Just a little freedom."

Max hesitated. His discipline was starting to waver. He had been so strong, but the voice was slowly chipping away at his resolve. He could feel himself weakening, giving in to the tempting thoughts.

He ordered the burger. And then, another. The instant gratification of sinking his teeth into something familiar felt like a comfort he hadn’t realized he craved. It wasn’t just the food—it was the feeling of indulgence, of throwing caution to the wind and embracing the carefree life he used to know.

As he finished his meal, a part of him felt relieved, but another part—deeper down—knew that the voice had won this round. It wasn’t just a single cheat day anymore; it was a shift, a crack in the wall he’d built around himself.

The voice became a constant companion, whispering to him when he was alone, when he was stressed, when he felt vulnerable. "You’re not truly happy without this," it taunted, "You can’t deny yourself forever."

Max felt like he was caught in a tug-of-war between his discipline and the comfort of old habits. Every time he tried to regain control, the voice would lure him back, a tempting siren call that drowned out the sound of reason.

Each day was a battle—a struggle between who he had been and who he was trying to become. And the worst part was that he couldn’t tell if the voice was coming from inside himself or if it was just the whispers of old patterns that had crept back into his life.

Max realized that the hardest part wasn’t the physical transformation—it was the mental game. The voice might have been growing louder, but he wasn’t ready to give up on the progress he had made. Not yet. He couldn’t let the past define him again.

But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the question: How long could he keep fighting this war within himself?

*****

Max lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. The voice was there again, louder than ever before. It wasn’t just a whisper now—it was like a thunderstorm, crashing against his thoughts, every word sharp and insistent.

“You’re fooling yourself, Max,” it said. “You can’t keep denying who you are. You’ll never feel truly satisfied until you’re back to your old ways.”

He turned over, pressing his hands to his ears, trying to block out the intrusive thoughts. I’m stronger than this, he thought. I’ve come so far. I’m healthier. I’m happier. But the voice didn’t care about any of that. It had no interest in facts or reason.

“Look at you,” it mocked. “You’re hungry all the time. The food, the comfort—it’s always going to call to you. You think you can just ignore it? You think you can change who you are, how you feel?”

Max’s heart pounded in his chest. His palms were slick with sweat. The voice was relentless, attacking his mind from all angles. It was like a battle in his head—every time he tried to fight back, it was as if the voice grew stronger, feeding off his doubts.

“You’ll never be able to resist it,” it taunted. “One meal won’t hurt. You’ve earned it. You’ve worked hard for this moment of freedom. Let yourself go. You deserve it.”

Max stood up and walked to the window, gazing out into the night, his mind spinning. I do deserve it, he thought, even though a part of him knew that wasn’t true. The voice was like a siren song, soothing him with its promises of pleasure and satisfaction. Why fight it? Why deny yourself what feels so good?

The internal war raged on.

His stomach growled, and he could feel the pull—an almost magnetic force, tugging him toward the easy comfort of his old habits. The memories of indulgence—the joy of overeating, the satisfaction of feeling full—flooded his mind. He thought of the pizza he used to devour with friends, the sugary treats he used to savor alone at night. The voice painted them in vibrant colors, turning each craving into a vivid picture of bliss.

Max closed his eyes, but the images didn’t go away. They only grew stronger. He saw himself, bigger, stronger, more confident in his own body. He felt the weight of it all, the satisfaction of indulging without guilt, without restriction.

“You’re weak, Max,” the voice whispered. “This isn’t about self-control. It’s about embracing who you really are. You’ll never be happy if you keep pretending to be someone you’re not.”

Max shook his head, gritting his teeth. No, he thought. I’m not weak. I can do this. I’m in control. I’ve made changes because I want to feel better, be better.

But the voice didn’t relent.

“You want to feel better? You want to be better?” it scoffed. “Then why are you still so empty? Why do you still feel unsatisfied? You can keep lying to yourself, but deep down, you know you want to go back. You can’t resist forever.”

Max clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. No, he repeated to himself, but the voice was louder, pushing against the walls of his mind. He felt weak, like he was losing ground, like he was being pulled into a vortex of his own desires.

“Give in,” the voice coaxed. “Just one more time. One more moment of pure pleasure. You deserve it. You’ve earned it.”

The temptation was unbearable now. Max felt like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, the voice the wind pushing him forward. He imagined the taste of the food, the comfort it would bring, how easy it would be to slip back into those old habits. The mental exhaustion was wearing him down, the mental battle sapping him of the strength he’d fought so hard to build.

And just like that, the wall cracked.

He grabbed his jacket and headed out, the voice in his head cheering him on, as if it had won. The streets seemed to stretch before him, beckoning him to places he used to go, familiar and comforting. He made his way to a late-night diner, almost on autopilot.

Inside, the neon lights flickered above him, and the smell of greasy food hit him like a wave. His stomach churned in anticipation. As he slid into the booth, the voice in his mind whispered sweetly, It’s just one meal, Max. One meal won’t change anything.

He looked at the menu, and before he could stop himself, he ordered the biggest burger on the list, along with fries, a milkshake—everything he used to crave. The voice was there, like a shadow, urging him to keep going, to embrace the pleasure of the moment. Max didn’t even feel guilty anymore. The battle was over. He had given in.

The food came, and Max dug in, savoring every bite. It was everything the voice had promised—familiar, satisfying, a moment of pure indulgence. But as he ate, a part of him knew that this wasn’t the victory he had hoped for. He had let the voice win, and now, as the food filled his stomach, a dull ache of emptiness settled in.

The moment of satisfaction was fleeting. As he finished the last of his meal, the voice didn’t fade. It stayed there, louder than ever, whispering words of comfort and victory. You see? That wasn’t so hard. You can have it all—just give in when it feels right.

Max left the diner, feeling heavier, both physically and mentally. The voice had won this round. He knew it, but somehow, it didn’t feel like relief. It felt like defeat.

The battle wasn’t over, though. He wasn’t sure how to fight it anymore, but one thing was clear: the voice was relentless, and so was he.

*****

The next morning, Max stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. He hadn’t weighed himself in weeks, choosing instead to focus on how he felt—how his clothes fit, how he moved. But now, after the slip-up, the urge to know was overwhelming. He stepped onto the scale, holding his breath, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

The numbers flickered for a moment before finally settling.

190.

Max’s heart skipped. A part of him felt a sharp pang of disappointment, his mind instantly spiraling into self-criticism. I’ve undone everything, he thought. I was so close. I was doing so well. I had control.

But then, almost immediately, the voice was there. Soft at first, but insistent. 190 isn’t so bad, it purred. It’s not 220. You’re still lighter. But you know… it’s so close to 200. What’s a few more pounds?

Max felt his stomach twist. His mind was a battlefield, the pull of the old habits stronger than it had been in weeks. 200… he thought, Just five more pounds. It won’t be that much.

The thrill of the idea started to creep in, and before he could stop himself, the rush of excitement flooded his veins. The voice sounded almost joyful now, like an old friend encouraging him to take the next step.

“You’re not going to stop here, are you?” it urged. “You’ve been craving this. One more push. Just go for 200. You’ll feel so much more satisfied. You’ll be proud of what you’ve done.”

Max’s gaze flickered back to the scale. He could almost taste it—the satisfaction, the pleasure of pushing his body further, of embracing his old identity. The voice painted vivid pictures in his mind, of feeling big, of feeling strong. A bigger body is a better body, it said. That’s what you want, right?

He closed his eyes, torn between the voice's sweet promises and the nagging sense of guilt that lingered just beneath the surface. He knew that this wasn’t just about weight—it was about feeling alive, about indulging in the one thing that had always brought him comfort. Food. Pleasure. Power.

Max stepped off the scale, feeling a wave of adrenaline surge through him. His resolve shattered like glass. I’ll just eat a little more, he thought. Just to get to 200. I’ll stop there. Just one more milestone.

The voice celebrated as Max grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. It whispered, You’ve got this. Just let go. You deserve this. 200’s just around the corner.

The feeling of freedom, of control slipping away, was intoxicating. He started seeing the world in a different light, the same way he had when he first started gaining—everything felt like an opportunity for indulgence. It wasn’t just about the weight anymore; it was about the act of letting go, of giving into the pleasures he had so long suppressed.

Max walked into a nearby diner and sat down, his heart pounding in anticipation. The menu seemed to beckon, offering comfort in its list of rich foods. He ordered with ease��burgers, fries, shakes. The voice didn’t stop urging him, pushing him to eat more, enjoy more, until he reached his goal.

He devoured the food with a speed and hunger that surprised him. He was no longer thinking about how much he was eating, just how good it felt, how familiar it was. Every bite was like a small victory. He could already feel the fullness spreading through him, the satisfaction taking root.

After finishing, Max leaned back in the booth, a deep sense of contentment washing over him. His stomach was heavy, but the thrill remained, like a rush of power running through his veins. He had crossed the line. He had given in. And in that moment, it felt like freedom.

As Max walked out of the diner, the voice was there, victorious. You did it. 200 is just a number. You’re back on top. Now you know you can do whatever you want.

Max stood there on the sidewalk, staring at his reflection in the store windows. He felt the weight in his body, the fullness in his stomach, but something else had shifted. The thrill was still there, but it was laced with a feeling he couldn’t quite define. He had listened to the voice—and in doing so, he had lost something more important than just his progress.

He wasn’t sure where this road would lead. All he knew was that the mental battle wasn’t over—it was just beginning.

Part 2 will be posted next Wednesday.

#male gaining #max #belly gainer #gaining kink #gaining weight on purpose

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justinspoliticalcorner · 1 year ago

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Christopher Mathias at HuffPost:

A coalition of 185 social justice and religious groups published an open letter Monday expressing support for the campus protest encampments sweeping the country in opposition to Israel’s siege of Gaza, and calling on university administrators to end the brutal crackdowns of the student-led demonstrations. “We commend the students who are exercising their right to protest peacefully despite an overwhelming atmosphere of pressure, intimidation and retaliation, to raise awareness about Israel’s assault on Gaza — with U.S. weapons and funding,” the letter states. “These students have come forth with clear demands that their universities divest from corporations profiting from Israeli occupation, and demanding safe environments for Palestinians across their campuses. ” Groups that signed the letter include Gen-Z for Change, Working Families Party, IfNotNow Movement, Young Democrats of America Black Caucus, Movement for Black Lives, Sunrise Movement, MPower Change, Jewish Voice for Peace, Palestine Legal, and the Unitarian Universalist Association.

Some 900 students have been arrested during anti-war encampments and demonstrations at American universities in the last 10 days, per a tally from Al Jazeera — a tumultuous period that mirrors volatile demonstrations against the Vietnam War in 1968, when police arrested at least 700 students. The open letter Monday represents one of the largest shows of support among progressive groups for the burgeoning student protests, and makes clear the divide between establishment Democratic figures and social justice groups when it comes to U.S. support for Israel. President Joe Biden has refused so far to condition the sale of weapons to Israel. “Our communities have been horrified to see the militarized and violent response to students protesting an ongoing genocide funded and supported by our government, and our coalition of organizations join millions of our members across the country in standing in solidarity with the students’ efforts in support of the people of Gaza,” Yasmine Taeb, one of the main organizers of the letter, told HuffPost. Taeb is a human rights lawyer and political director at MPower Change, a Muslim social justice group.

“Instead of attacking young people mobilizing for Palestinian human rights, President Biden needs to listen to the majority of Americans who have been calling on him to stop funding and supporting the atrocities committed against the people of Gaza,” Taeb said.

[...] Israel has killed over 33,000 Palestinians since Oct. 7, when the Gaza-based militant group Hamas launched an attack in which nearly 1,200 Israelis were killed. In January, the International Court of Justice ruled that Israel’s siege of Gaza — which has displaced 85% of the population and put the occupied territory on the cusp of famine — left Palestinians at risk of experiencing a genocide. Last week, health officials in Gaza said medics had discovered mass graves at hospitals raided by Israeli troops. “We join [the students] in calling for an immediate and lasting ceasefire and an end to the U.S. government’s and institutions’ role in the ongoing genocide of Palestinians in Gaza,” Monday’s letter states. “As we stand in solidarity with the students protesting in encampments across the country, we reaffirm our commitment to amplifying their voices, condemn the university administration officials’ violent response to their activism, and demand that universities remove the presence of police and other militarized forces from their campuses,” it continues.

[...] Meanwhile, Republican Party officials and right-wing media figures have accused the demonstrations of antisemitism, falsely equating criticism of Israel with bigotry towards Jews. Although there have been scattered reports of actual antisemitic incidents at or near the encampments, many were not perpetrated by students but by interlopers. Many of the student protesters across the country are Jewish. Far-right agitators, including Christian nationalist activists, have also targeted the encampments, with MAGA pastor Sean Feucht leading hundreds of Christian and Jewish Zionists on a march around the Columbia campus on Thursday. The rally ended with pro-Israel demonstrators yelling through the gate at pro-Palestinian Columbia students. “Go back to Gaza!” they screamed.

More than 185 groups, including IfNotNow, Jewish Voice For Peace, MPower Change, and Working Families Party, signed a letter in support of the campus protests against Israel Apartheid State's genocide against Palestinians in Gaza.

#Gaza Genocide #Israel Apartheid #Israel/Hamas War #Ceasefire NOW Protests #Protests #Columbia University #Israel Apartheid State #Palestine #Gaza #IfNotNow #Jewish Voice For Peace #MPower Change #Working Families Party #Sunrise Movement #Gen Z For Change #Campus Protests

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ms-demeanor · 15 days ago

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So the thing with my job is that we're three companies in a trenchcoat. What happened is that a couple of very wealthy guys who used to work in tech decided they were going to buy up companies and mash them together into a bigger company, which is a not-uncommon way to grow MSPs.

We're going to call the first company the Fluffy Bunnies. They were a very stable, white-glove-service MSP with 10 employees serving 30 high-end clients in San Francisco. They have existed for 16 years but got bought out two years ago.

The second company are the Scrappy Mutts. They were acquired about a year ago. They were a moderately stable group handling around 90 medium and small clients in orange county and san diego, they had 7 employees.

The third company, my company, are the Strangled Bats, and were acquired seven months ago. We were a sinking ship with 5 employees handling 185 medium and small clients and one very big client in Los Angeles.

I'm going to call our current company Frankenstein Inc (FI).

All but two of the Scrappy Mutts have left FI. So when we are talking about people who are "familiar" with the 90 clients from that group, it is one tech and one office admin. We have lost a few clients from that group because when FI took over, the service level changed (turns out the previous owner was providing a lot of free services and free computers, which FI will not and should not do).

All but one of the level three techs from the Fluffy Bunnies have left FI. We have several level two techs from the Fluffy Bunnies still on the team, and they make our white-glove, tier-1 san francisco clients feel very well cared for but there's no real account management going on. We have several big clients from this group who are shaky.

Nobody from the Strangled Bats has bounced. None of our clients have bounced. Gary not only trained us to suffer, he trained our clients to actually pay for their services.

Initially, one of the owner/investors of FI was the CEO. When he brought on the Fluffy Bunnies, he told them they were going to be the leadership and guidance for the company. He told them how he wanted the finances handled and set rules for some procedures. When FI merged the Fluffy Bunnies and the Scrappy Mutts, the Fluffy Bunny management had to scramble to figure out how to distribute workload when they quadrupled the size of their customer base and had to figure out how to merge contracts from the Scrappy Mutt clients to their system. This did not go well.

Because that didn't go well, the CEO hired a Professional Services VP and later a Project Manager. The PS VP got fired about a month after the Strangled Bats came onboard, and the Project Manager had only been there for a month at that point.

About a month after his VP was fired, the project manager looked at what a tire fire the acquisition of the Scrappy Mutts and the Strangled Bats was, and started organizing an acquisition process that we are putting in place for the next acquisition, because the owner/investors very much want to keep acquiring other companies.

Since the Strangled Bats have come onboard, ticket distribution has been shot to shit and MOST clients are unhappy with how we're meeting SLAs.

Because of this, the owner/CEO hired two outside execs, one of whom is a CEO with fortune 100 experience to replace him. These two execs have now been at the company long enough to flip on a lightswitch and see the cockroaches scrambling around.

The Fluffy Bunnies are middle management. They want things to move smoothly and customers to be happy. They are more concerned with service outcomes and dropping everything to make clients happy than they are with stability. The Fluffy Bunny response to the cockroaches is to say "yes that is quite unpleasant but we must overlook that for the moment to make sure our customers feel seen." The Scrappy Mutt reaction to the cockroaches is to go "yes, those do seem to be squirmy things, but I am currently chasing this tennis ball (being run ragged by being the only one who really knows 90 clients)". The Strangled Bat response is "yeah okay I eat cockroaches I guess I can grab those and do everything else" because we have been forced to do exactly that.

I thought I was signing on to a company where I'd get to be a Fluffy Bunny or at least a Scrappy Mutt. I am tired of being a Strangled Bat. But if I can't be a Fluffy Bunny then I can at least take care of the cockroaches because the Fluffy Bunnies are pretending they aren't there and they're busy chewing through our cables.

The new exec team doesn't want us to be fluffy bunnies or scrappy mutts or strangled bats working together at Frankenstein Inc, they want us to be normal human employees of a normal human company that is one company with one set of standards and one way of doing things instead of three companies in a trenchcoat. They are in the process of putting these standards into place, and the friction I am experiencing comes from techs on the ground chafing against change, but it ALSO comes from Fluffy Bunny management.

We have one fluffy bunny who is very hesitant to make decisive action and who doesn't want to bother the CEO. The issue is that they are the main interface with the CEO and I report directly to this person. The CEO is my grandboss and if I reach out to him directly I'm overstepping. This fluffy bunny is a yes-man who gets things done by working 70-80 hours a week instead of escalating or delegating and is unlikely to initiate change when it comes to things like "we need to have a drastic reassessment of how we document the hardware we've sold." The OTHER fluffy bunny manager is supposed to be doing service assignments and wants to be a manager, but does not like being told to act more professional, or working one weekend a month, and when you ask this manager for help the response you get is frequently "I don't care" or "ask the other bunny." I don't report directly to this person, but they have oversight over my tickets and can assign me to projects.

I don't want my outlook on the new execs to be too rosy, but it's such a tremendous relief that other people can see the cockroaches and understand that they need to be addressed. I do genuinely believe that the new execs are looking to promote based on how the team responds to the changes they're implementing, and how people tackle the issues that are coming to light, but they're still business dudes in a business setting and there's every possibility that I could work like crazy until my next review and get a "Great Job" sticker and a cost of living raise (which, hey, still better than Gary, but not good enough to set myself on fire for). Given that these guys have been the only ones to put their money where their mouth is in regard to my employment situation (new CEO is why I got my raise, and because I was making so little before it's still not a huge dollar amount but it was a 15% raise which is not nothing) I'm inclined to trust them at least a little. Buuuuuuut I'm also definitely documenting all the shit that I'm doing and I'm maybe also starting a separate document of when I needed something from fluffy bunny management and ran into a brick wall, because the exec team is very firm that i need to escalate through the bunnies.

I will say, if there's anything on our side, it's inertia. Changing MSPs is a huge giant miserable headache so it takes a lot for a customer to bail on us and we do have a solid customer base. Now we just need to make sure none of their goddamned servers implode because the fucking fluffy bunnies configured RAID 5 with no spares because "my fucking server blew up and you didn't have any plan in place to keep me up and running" is absolutely a reason that companies will drop MSPs.

_____________________

The whole server drive situation was because I was trying to wrangle bunnies; it fell into my lap before my pay raise and title change and after that (and the raid 5 panic) I couldn't get bunnies to escalate it or take it seriously and had to start dragging bats into the mix. The CEO has been very clear that this shit is a cockroach and needs to get handled but I'm not supposed to go around my bunny manager to alert him to cockroaches. My bunny manager's response to the fact that the server was RAID 10 (which was checked and confirmed by a bat) was "Wow that's so funny, I wonder why the system was reporting it wrong in the first place? That's some pressure off, huh?" and that's why I was losing my shit yesterday.

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