#bhm weight gain fiction

[wonderingsoftly]

what she sees

i just wanted to write something soft...softly admiring a big, beautiful, fat body, and who better to do this than with theo and charlotte?

---

Charlotte watched quietly, contently as Theo’s breathing slowed and his eyelids drooped closed.

She had fed him a hefty dinner from his favorite barbecue place, warm pulled pork smothered in sauce, creamy macaroni and cheese, soft mashed potatoes, and several other sides Charlotte could not recall–having been too enamored with the sight of his feasting–leaving his huge belly bloated even larger than normal.

They were both seated on the couch, Charlotte resting her head on Theo’s large, soft arm. He had started rubbing slow circles on his tight, packed belly–Charlotte had pulled his shirt up to reveal the globe-like majesty of his full stomach, and took over when Theo’s movements inevitably slowed.

It was remarkable, watching him eat and then settle into himself, head propped up by his fat neck and shoulders. He began to drowse to whatever they had put on the television, a pleased smile creeping across his fat face.

His belly hung out and down between his wide legs, pale, fading stretch marks scattered across his skin. Charlotte remembered seeing the stretch marks appear when he started gaining weight and growing so quickly, almost shockingly red. She fondly recalled diligently rubbing lotion all over his expanding belly, hoping to soothe his straining skin.

Years had passed since then, and the stretch marks had settled into his skin like a natural part of the landscape of his belly and thighs. They were almost unnoticeable unless you were looking for them, but Charlotte was intimately familiar with every curve and slope of his big, fat body.

And he was beautiful.

Theo had always been warm and soft, both literally and metaphorically. But as Theo allowed himself to indulge and overstuff himself regularly, and to be overstuffed by Charlotte, he embodied it more and more.

Charlotte chuckled as she remembered how stressed he used to get sometimes, little things bothering him immensely and letting himself spiral–but now he was almost endlessly patient, gentle, and in good spirits.

She rubbed a large, slow circle over his warm, tight flesh. A sleepy, content moan drew Charlotte’s attention to Theo’s face.

Still smiling, eyes closed, as if he was floating aimlessly through the clouds. His short, curly blond hair was a little like a halo, Charlotte thought, and cherubic was her favorite way to describe him.

Her breath caught in her throat as she admired him, her hand still drawing circles on his belly.

Beautiful. Soothing.

A near-indescribable feeling of contentment welled up in Charlotte's chest. It was warm and filling, but she wanted it to inhabit every inch of her insides.

His peaceful smile and radiant warmth made everything feel right in the world. She gently nuzzled her cheek against Theo’s belly, flattening her palm across his soft skin.

Her hand was so small, and he was so big. She couldn't help but press a slow kiss on his belly, enjoying the sensation of his warmth and softness against her lips.

A surprisingly loud gurgle rumbled near Charlotte’s ear and made her giggle. She pressed herself further into Theo’s belly and wrapped her arms around his huge, soft middle as best she could.

He was softer and more pleasant than any stuffed animal she had ever cuddled with, and her heart was full of adoration for the enormous man she loved. She felt safe, loved, and warm in his presence.

As Charlotte got lost in her admiration of her big, fat, husband, she felt a wide, warm hand gently rest on the top of her head.

Butterflies flooded her stomach and lungs as her personal moment of delight had been discovered by the very object of her affections. She looked up at Theo, a serene, angelic smile on his face. His eyes were full of affection, cheeks warm and pink.

Their eyes rested on each other, comfortable and adoring. Charlotte slowly draped herself over Theo’s belly and chest, amused at how far out his stomach protruded to give her a lovely place to recline.

“Everything okay?” Theo asked gently as he softly, lovingly thumbed at her temple.

Charlotte smiled and nodded slowly. “I was just admiring…thinking about how far we've come…” she trailed off, leaning her cheek on his skin again. “I love the way you feel.”

Theo hummed thoughtfully. He slowly traced his finger along Charlotte’s hairline from her forehead to her ear, then brushed his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“I love the way you feel, too. I love seeing you resting on me…” He chuckled pleasantly, the sound delectably warming her from the inside out.

Theo let out a yawn, making Charlotte rise and fall on his big, round belly. She laughed, feeling like she was riding a wave on the ocean.

“You wanna go to bed?” His arm began lazily trailing down her arm, his pudgy, warm fingers giving her bicep a squeeze.

Charlotte was surprised by a yawn of her own eagerly escaping her mouth. She guessed Theo’s soothing warmth and softness was quietly calming her–much like it always did, she had to admit to herself.

She nodded, taking an extra moment to relish Theo’s body against hers before getting to her feet. Theo chuckled, recognizing Charlotte’s thoughts, and gave the top of her head a gentle pat.

Charlotte, now standing, held her hands out to Theo. He smiled, placing his plump hands in hers and gently curled his fingers around them.

Theo let out a sudden moan, making Charlotte think he just remembered how full he was. She bit her lip and gave him an apologetic smile.

A resigned laugh made Theo’s belly bounce, giving Charlotte’s hands a squeeze. “You do good work, little lady,” he mused, letting out a preparatory sigh. A few determined wiggles of his hips, Theo planted his feet firm on the floor and moved to stand.

Charlotte pulled with a grunt, and Theo made it to standing. His belly rolled down, jutting out and hanging low. He flashed Charlotte a knowing look, making her pull her lips into a tight smile to hold back a giggle.

“Come on, big boy,” Charlotte cooed, releasing Theo’s hands to grab handfuls of his belly, soft fat spreading through her fingers.

Theo looked back at her, pleased, as he placed a hand on hers.

Charlotte let out a happy noise, admiring his huge body one more time before leading him to their bedroom, where she would continue to enjoy him.

[igotfatter]

Ex boyfriend stepped out on me a few times. My solution? Make sure he can never take a step again.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

The Pump

For the last few days I’ve been playing around with an idea.

What if I had access to a pumping machine? 

It consists of a long rubber tube, a tank, and a foot pump, not unlike a bicycle pump. 

The tank is full of solid lard, or melted butter, or perhaps even cake batter shake. 

I’m seated beneath the machine, with the pump next to my right food. I can easily operate it with a forceful stomp. I cannot stop imagining snaking the tube down my throat. It chokes me slightly, but I get used to it. My lips struggle to contain saliva that spills out as the tube rests inside me.

There is a rubbery taste and texture, not unlike a mouthguard or a bottle. It’s a bit squishy, but stout. 

I press the pump. It shoots solid lard quite suddenly down the tube and into my belly. The long hose stiffens for a second, I cough and stutter, maybe even a heave. Then it’s over. 

One pump makes me comfortably full, like I am satiated. A bit woozy perhaps and certainly distended, but not so full I cannot function. 

A second pump almost instantaneously fills me to my greatest desires. So full I cannot stand without immense difficulty. So full I cannot manage any breathing beyond short, labored panting. So full my gut is noticeably swollen. So full I am having trouble thinking straight. So full I am starting to feel sluggish, tired, lethargic. 

I taste nothing but plasticky rubber, my own drool, and maybe the occasional lardy burp. There is no mess, no leaking, no waiting, no swallowing. The whole operation is only 1-3 minutes. This gives me plenty of time to lug my prize somewhere where we won’t be disturbed. 

How many times a day would I use the pump? I can easily envision myself pulling out the long tube. Struggling to get up from the chair and stumbling to my bed. Pinned by my extensive filling. Passing out and digesting it all over a few hours. 

Would I walk right back over? A little heavier, a little dumber, a little hungrier? 

Would I use the pump enough to make it take 3 pumps? 4? When would I stop? 

What if someone else was there to manage the pump? What if they kept pumping? What if they too, wanted to sit in the chair with the tube? What if I just kept pumping?

What if I get really fat? 

I’m so terrified by my answers to these questions. Access to this pump would ruin my life. I need this pump. My gut needs this pump. 

I’ve thought about this for days, almost a week. I’m embarrassed.

I’m desperate. 

[thefatking0]

heard yall liked fat (;

[mortiskiller]

Pignapped

Content warning: Contains violent language, physical harm, non-consensual feedism and other acts. This is just a story, don't be weird.

A commission for @collegefatty10

He was on the way back to the car after grabbing a pizza. It was routine at this point in his life. Eating all day without regard to his ever-increasing weight had led to some interesting eating habits. A breakfast sandwich in the morning had become three sandwiches with hash browns and two doughnuts. Lunch steadily grew into a multi-hour affair with trips to multiple drive-thru visits, door dash orders, desk drawers filled with snacks, and not to mention a new habit of pre-gaming before dinner. Driving to get his pizza led to stopping for fries, or nuggets, or a combo meal, or all of that, before he picked up his next greasy calorie bomb. This routine made his day predictable, pigs are simple after all. The same places and employees watched him fatten from the low 300s to his heaving 430 pounds. Day after day, pound after pound he kept ordering more. As his waddle slowed, his gut hung lower and lower, his face getting red and sweaty from the 20-foot walk from the car to the pizzeria, he was an easy target.

I had seen him months before on a lunch break. My eyes shot open as saw a hanging lard pile of a man puff his way into McDonald’s. It was a passing horny thought that I would see him again, maybe add it to my mental bank of images and memories to jerk off to later. Yet, he kept coming to the same places again, and again, and again till it was too much to resist. I mapped out his route, timed him as ordered, and ate his feasts. Noted how he favored his right leg as he waddled, his arms struggling to carry the ever-increasing amount of food he ordered. As I watched him, I couldn't help but notice the way his right leg bore the brunt of his weight, the limp a constant reminder of his indulgent lifestyle. I wondered how long he had been living like this, how many times he had ordered a pizza and not once thought about the consequences. I knew he would be easy to take. Easy to keep docile, dumb, and growing.

I waited till the moon was just a sliver in the night sky outside his favorite pizzeria. Checking my watch, as it ticked over to 8:40 pm, his sedan pulled into the parking lot, the front driver’s side sitting low as my soon-to-be pet pig drove. I watched from my hiding spot as he struggled to haul his massive frame out of the driver's seat, grunting and wheezing with the effort. The scent of greasy pizza wafted through the air as he waddled towards the entrance, his heavy footfalls reverberating on the pavement.

Once he was safely inside i made my move, slipping silently into the shadows and following him at a distance. Inside, he placed his usual order - a large meat lover's pizza with extra cheese and a side of garlic knots. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he paid for his meal, oblivious to the predator lurking in the darkness behind him.

As he turned to leave, I struck swiftly and silently, wrapping a thick cloth bag over his head. He struggled weakly for a moment before I pushed him back to the car. With ease, I kicked his right knee from the back and watched as he tumbled into the truck. His muffled moans of confusion and fear barely registering over the hum of the engine. He was mine now, another victim added to my collection.

I paused for a moment, considering my next move. He was a strange yet fascinating addition to my collection, and I relished the thought of having him under my control. I could see him squirming in the back, his heavy breathing and muffled cries a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

I parked the car in a secluded spot, away from any prying eyes. The moon now a hazy glow, bathing everything in a sickly light. I approached the car, opened the rear door, and lifted my newest prize out of the vehicle.

He was heavier than he looked, his bulk making it difficult for me to handle him. But I had experience, and I was patient. I carried him to a nearby abandoned warehouse, the cold metal of the hinges echoing as I pushed open the door.

Once inside, I placed him on a table, still wearing the cloth bag over his head.

"Hey, buddy," I cooed to the pig, my voice low and sinister. "You know, you're not going to like what's going to happen to you. I've got some pretty wicked plans for you. I'm going to fatten you up, relentlessly, until there's barely anything left of your dignity or self-esteem. You see, we're going to use you, and we're going to pleasure you in ways you can't even imagine."

The pig let out a soft grunt, the sounds muffled by the cloth bag still securing his head. I chuckle, a dark and twisted sound that reverberates through the cold, empty warehouse. Taking a step closer, my shoes scraped against the rough concrete floor.

"I've been collecting things like you for years," I whispered, running his hands over his captive's plump body. "I've come across so many of your kind, just like you, loving your comfort and your food. And I've had my way with them all. Oh, I've had so much fun, and you're next on my list."

As I approach the pig, who is still covered in the bag, he lets out a soft whimper and shakes his head, trying to free himself. His body wobbles with each attempt as he struggles against his bonds. Belly aching with his last meal the movement causes an unintended blech from beneath the bag. Swiftly, I remove the bag from the pig's head, revealing a face red, sweating, and fearful. The pig's eyes are wide and terrified as he stares up at me, taking in his new surroundings - cold concrete walls bare of any decoration, a king-sized bed next to a small bathroom, and a large full-body mirror.

"Look at you," I say with a hint of disgust mixed with fascination, "just look at what you've become."

"You know what you are now?" I ask quietly, “You are my plaything, a toy, a fat weak blubbery toy!” my digs deep into his belly hang, bringing a painful whine from the pig’s mouth.

"You are mine, completely and entirely," I continue, my voice growing menacing, "and I'm going to do whatever I want with you at my command." The pig tries to struggle again, but his movements are weak and pathetic. "Oh, but first things first," I say, walking over to the bed where I had left a set of handcuffs.

I restrained the pig on the bed, at once reluctant and terrified to yield to such volition.

"You'll get used to it, trust me," I say, my fingers tracing curious paths over his bulging form. "Maybe then you'll even enjoy it."

With the pig cuffed to the headboard and footboard, I began to study him, taking in every last curve and fold of his form. He looked so helpless and vulnerable like a lost child in desperate need of a firm hand to guide him.

Noticing the glaze that had settled over his eyes, I thought, 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

Methodically, I began to examine him as if he were an exotic creature, taking note of each flaw that had been revealed by my rough handling.

He would be my plaything, my plump and innocent pig. And I would use him, treat him, and abuse him in ways that would break him completely. I would fatten him up and weaken him until his body could no longer bear the weight of his own flesh. I would use every inch of this vulnerable creature, making him my own personal toy.

As I stood over him, watching him squirm pathetically on the bed, my mind raced with all the ways in which I could degrade him. My hands moved over his flesh, feeling him shake beneath my touch. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the softness of his fur, the weight of the fat that filled his body. It was all so delicious, so intoxicating, that I found myself growing hard at the thought of what I could do with him.

My fingers brushing feather-light against his skin, teasing him with every passing second. It was then that I decided upon the next part of his degradation. With a smirk playing on my lips, I retrieved a bucket from the floor, its contents sloshing against the sides with every move I made. It was filled to the brim with a half-gallon of lard-filled slop, designed to both fuel his growing hunger and make him feel even more vulnerable in his restraints.

As I drew closer, the pig let out a small whine, his eyes widening in fear and anticipation. He knew what was coming. I brought the bucket towards his mouth, and with a practiced hand, I tilted it so that the contents would flow easily. A funnel was inserted into his mouth, and with a cruel smirk, I watched as the slop began to pour down his throat, filling him to the brim.

End of Part 1.

[420faggyactivities69]

You were a young, good looking girl. Or so you were told. Your long blonde hair fell gracefully on your bony bony shoulders. Your defined cheekbones gave you a sharp look. Your skinny waist made you quite the catch in the eyes of people around you.

But you weren't happy, were you? The long hair didn't feel right. Neither did the feminine face or the skimpy outfits you wore to show off your tiny body.

So you choose to pursue happiness instead and admitted to yourself that you're not the girl you're pretending to be. You chopped off the hair into a messy mohawk and dyed it bright colors, got piercings and tattoos, traded your tiny dresses and heels for oversized leather jackets, rough jeans and combat boots. It took years but you eventually even got on testosterone. The changes made you ecstatic. You gained muscle mass, your body hair grew and got darker, your voice deepened....

And you became hungry. All the years of denying yourself the pleasure of food in order to fit into a box caught up to you and for the first time you ate freely. After all, you were basically going through a second puberty and that's just how teenage boys get, right?

They chug bear, tear into a steak, devour plates after plates of chicken wings, fries, pizzas, whatever they can get their hand on. You were no different. You ate everything in sight and soon it started catching up to you.

Your small waist blended into your wide hips, giving you a more boxy, manly appearance. Your thickening thighs tore through your old feminine skinny jeans and became the perfect resting place for your softened belly. Your arms got huge and mixed with the muscle mass you still got they gave you almost bear like appearance. You could easily go out without binding because your tits now just looked like moobs.

Nowadays, you as much as catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and can't help but get horny. The body you worked so hard on makes you wet just thinking about it. You made it yourself out of flesh that was unfit for you and you did it one shot and one stuffing at a time.

Tell me boy, doesn't it feel nice? To finally become one of the big men you always admired? Doesn't the low vibrator of your voice in your throat make you excited? Don't you want to get that tummy to jiggle even more?

I know you want this.

So eat up

You were never meant to be a small girl anyway

[growmydarling]

you knew already that you'd been getting rounder in the middle. but life gets so busy and you had been getting into a comfortable rhythm of life, not noticing how things about your body were changing. at the back of your mind you idly noticed you had to tug your shirts down a little more often. a little more grunting or sighing when you got up out of a chair, or walked to the car. but, it didn't really reach the front of your thoughts. not until your coworker started making comments.

"i'm stopping at the break room for more coffee. you want another donut, big guy?" you blinked dumbly at them, half smirk on their narrow face. you nodded after a pause. a few minutes later they drop off the biggest apple fritter in the box, and a paper cup with coffee. you discover after a sip that the coffee is laden with half-and-half and sweet as a frappuccino.

later that week, you drop a pen while chatting in a small group at work. you kneel to grab it, huffing a bit as you lower yourself down. they snort and say, "don't split your pants! when's the last time you've seen your feet?" your cheeks are bright red by the time you raise your face to meet their gaze. an electric light sparks behind their eyes, and your pupils dilate.

now you can't deny what's happening. in the mirror at home you wobble your soft pecs, turning into little tits that sag gently. you tilt your thickening neck to peek at your ass, disbelieving that all that creamy flesh is actually attached to you. your coworker certainly didn't miss it! you had been wondering why they kept insisting on walking a few steps behind you on your way to meetings and back to the building from your (increasingly indulgent) lunches together.

you realize they may be contributing to your sudden weight gain. do you confront them about it, or do you subtly let them know that you see what's happening? do you continue to play dumb, seeing how hard you can push yourself in front of them, ordering extra milkshakes or bringing up every time you feel a hunger pang in front of them?

[bellybud]

Caption this boys😏

[wonderingsoftly]

Not Too Big

something i've been playing with that i like...wanted to populate the blog with a little quick, fluffy wg fic...just a boyfriend and girlfriend realizing they want him even bigger

no major warnings, just a lot of hugging and squeezing and admiring

---

Theo gorged desperately on the pizzas he bought, chewing loudly and grabbing wildly at the next piece.

He had to get bigger. His mind screamed that it was a matter of keeping his beloved girlfriend, Charlotte, by his side.

There was no indication that she was unhappy, in fact she and him seemed to enjoy every minute together.

But…she was gone on a business trip for the next two weeks. He achingly remembered the way she ran her hand through his short blond hair and placed a kiss on his lips. She promised she would be back before he knew it.

He constantly checked her social media, staring at her pictures of the two of them, then looking at her latest posts--where his thoughts became prickly and relentless.

It was that latest picture.

Her smile was big and cordial as she stood with a big, fat man. Bigger than Theo was, and he far outsized Charlotte.

He was her coworker, and he had met him before, exchanging pleasantries. Theo had never been offended by him or anything, but every picture he saw of Charlotte with the man made him wind up tighter and tighter.

And then he snapped.

Theo was not a small man by any means, quite muscular and bulky himself, and he knew Charlotte liked him that way. He knew she liked big men, which was part of why they started dating in the first place.

They got on like a house on fire, immediately falling in love with each other and sharing hobbies and interests. Charlotte was kind and sweet and fun and endlessly attractive with beautiful, black, wavy hair and near-black eyes, deep and easy to get lost in.

He considered himself incredibly lucky to have landed her, and sometimes that translated into a bit of a need to do whatever he could to make sure she was happy. This wild train of thought was his latest attempt at this.

Though on the other hand, Charlotte was much of the same. She loved watching Theo show off his gains from the gym and would cook delicious meals after a strenuous workout. She praised him often and comforted him when he needed it. She encouraged him to reach his goals. She could rarely be seen without her hands on his skin in some way or another, always trying to be in physical contact with him.

And he…he couldn't bear to lose that.

So he had to get bigger. To his mind, it would be a surefire way to keep Charlotte around. More of him for her to touch and grab.

He ate even more furiously, his stomach starting to protest against his jeans.

He would load and bulk up tonight, cutting the rest tomorrow at the gym. He’d put these calories to work and grow.

Though…a small part of his mind didn't mind if his belly pooched out or if his muscles were padded with a nice layer of fat. It would only make him look bigger, give him more leverage to lift heavier and heavier weights, and in turn make him even bigger.

He imagined Charlotte's eyes looking him all over as she returned to him, his arms and chest pumped and heavy.

Some might call this a dirty bulk, but…bulk was bulk to Theo at this moment in time. He was desperate to fight against his spiral, and the only solution that seemed to stop his brain was preparing calories and energy to change into gains.

He would sleep soundly once the pizza was gone, knowing he’d be big for Charlotte.

***

The day of Charlotte's return arrived, and Theo struggled to button the nice shirt he had bought a few months ago. His stomach firmly fought against the buttons with every closure he managed.

He exhaled long, trying to flatten his torso enough to close up the shirt. With some effort, he managed, but in the mirror it was evidently clear he was one sudden movement away from popping the buttons off.

Perhaps his dirty bulking worked too well.

Even his arms strained in the short sleeves, the lack of stretch emphasizing their size.

He heard the doorknob start to turn and he rushed out to the living room, the shirt’s buttons creaking slightly.

He got into place, eagerly watching as Charlotte walked in, her smile wide and relieved.

“Theo…” she said happily, like music to Theo’s ears.

He rushed to hug her, sighing happily as he felt her arms wrap around and squeeze his torso.

Where she belonged.

“You look good, Theo,” Charlotte murmured, rubbing his back.

Theo's stomach somersaulted at her touch and comment, and he felt vindicated. It had worked. She was happy.

“Thought I might…work hard to bulk up a little extra for when you got back,” he admitted. “It’s surprising how much I could do in two weeks.”

“Aw, for me?” Charlotte giggled, looking up at Theo. Her cheeks were flushed pink and she gave his side a squeeze.

“Always for you.”

They hugged close again, breathing slowly and happily.

All was well again. Or so Theo thought.

“I…wanted to talk to you…a little about this, actually,” Charlotte said reluctantly, patting his stomach and then rubbing his arm.

Theo's heart dropped, immediately thinking of the worst case scenario. Her return had been amazing, what could she mean?

“Nothing bad, really!” Charlotte gasped, sensing Theo's fear. “But I just…I mean, I was thinking about it while I was gone and how you know I like how big you are…”

Theo looked at Charlotte curiously, his fear starting to dissipate a bit. She was blushing dark now, looking at her hands as she wrung them together.

“I kept thinking of you the whole trip…and how I…I’ve been wondering just how big you want to get? And if maybe…I don't know, I’m sorry–”

“Do you like this? The muscle and…the little extra?” Theo asked quietly, gesturing at himself.

“I love the muscle, but Theo…seeing you stretching this shirt–you’ve only worn it once before, and it was almost a little loose.” Charlotte laughed nervously, pushing some hair behind her ear. “If your ‘little extra��� did that…I…”

Her pause sent a shiver through Theo.

She looked at him longingly. “I want so much more.”

Theo looked at Charlotte in shock. A slow smile crept across his lips, pulling her in a tight hug.

“I…got a little jealous seeing you in those pictures with…what's his name, the big guy… Paul?” He sighed.

Charlotte let out a sad little whine. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“No, no, it's not your fault, but…I just…wanted to be the big guy you’re always next to. I…let myself get carried away in my thoughts and just wanted to be there in his place, so badly.”

Charlotte laughed, squeezing Theo’s middle.

Theo moaned out a sigh, relishing the way her arms wrapped around him. She could barely reach her arms all the way around him.

His thoughts wandered to future possibilities. What if her arms couldn't reach totally around him at all…? If there was so much of him she’d never get bored…to lay on him at night, comfortable and warm.

“So, so badly, Charlotte…” Theo moaned in a low voice, his thoughts putting him in a warm, longing haze.

She squeezed him again, rubbing her cheek on his chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled tight and smooth over him.

Charlotte pulled away, Theo placing his hands on her hips. She trailed her fingers up the straining buttons, picking at the little bunches of fabric where the shirt closed.

She smiled, tapping the top button with her finger, looking up at Theo.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were tantalizingly dark. Theo felt his own cheeks heat up as all of Charlotte's fingers now rested on the same button.

With a small pop, Charlotte skillfully pushed the button through the hole, and his shirt opened in slight relief.

He silently begged her to keep going.

Charlotte's fingers trailed down to the next button, doing the same. His shirt opened more and more eagerly with every undone button, revealing his soft skin.

She reached the final button, his pooching belly freed from the shirt.

Theo let out a sigh of relief, finally registering just how tight the shirt was.

She hummed appreciatively and ran her hands over his stomach, gently dragging her nails over his skin. She patted his stomach, making him jiggle slightly.

Theo chuckled, placing his hands on hers.

It seemed like he and Charlotte were on the same page.

“Would you…be okay with getting nice and big for me? Maybe…a little less gym time and a little more eating time with me?” She looked up at him with big, wide eyes.

Theo blushed, running his thumb over her cheek. “Something tells me you’ve given this some thought already.”

“Well…I had a lot of alone time at night. Missing you…and maybe sometimes I let my thoughts run away with me…”

“Let’s do it then. I'll make more time to eat whatever delicious stuff you cook up and then we can cuddle.”

“Um…” she started, her gaze falling nervously to his stomach.

Theo tilted his head curiously, wondering her next thought.

“I know I just unbuttoned you, but…I also…want to see you…” she paused, her voice trailing off.

“I want to see you pop the buttons off this shirt,” Charlotte quickly sputtered, her blush now reaching her ears.

Theo looked at her blankly for a moment, processing her request.

He began to belly laugh when it finally registered. He pulled her into another hug, feeling her wrap her arms around his torso under his shirt.

Her arms were cool and soothing and her cold hands sent goosebumps over his body.

“Let's make something to eat then. I'm probably only a few spoonfuls of something away from busting this shirt open, anyway.”

Charlotte responded with a low, pleased laugh, giving Theo another squeeze.

***

Theo looked at himself in the mirror hanging on their closet door, his sides actually outsizing the width of it. He bit his lip, shuffling a little uncomfortably as he placed his hands on his round, hanging belly.

He was big. Almost 450 pounds big. Bigger than he’d ever been. But it was as they had planned over two years ago. It was just…surprising to really observe himself.

He turned to the side, one hand still on the top of his belly and tracing his eyes along the sagging bottom line of his stomach. It hung almost completely over his waistline, making an apron over his hips. His pecs were now sagging breasts, connecting to his back rolls. His eyes came back up to his face, still framed by his short blond hair, but his cheeks round and full–his neck basically disappeared beneath his double chin.

Charlotte kept insisting that he was incredible. She praised his expanding waistline, all the while giving him third and fourth helpings of the decadent dinners she made almost every night.

“My arms too…” he said with a sigh, lifting and wobbling his massive, soft arms. What definition he once had was totally covered by fat. He gently squeezed his left arm with his other hand. Warm and wobbly…he gave it a gentle pat and made it shake.

“You can still move around! And really well!” he could hear Charlotte's sweet voice in his head, remembering when he asked about her thoughts on his weight so far after he had found he had outgrown his favorite shirt.

“You're in great shape,” he remembered her voice cooing as she gently rubbed her hands on his stomach, uncovered by the outgrown shirt. That would have been debated by almost anyone else, but from Charlotte's mouth, he treated it like gospel.

Oh, and he loved that feeling. Her cool hands on his always-warm skin. The way her dark eyes sparkled as she admired him, when he accepted the next serving of dinner she would offer him.

And she was right, he was still able to get around. While his walk had become a waddle, he still considered himself pretty strong, helping her around the apartment with the heavy lifting chores--under the couch, moving the tables, things like that. He would only rarely be out of breath, and he was as sweaty as he usually got when he used to regularly exert himself at the gym…

Though, admittedly Charlotte insisted he stay seated and just relax while she took care of him, especially after a big meal. She didn't want her enormous prize of a man to have to worry about what she called ‘little things.’

When he sat, he took up almost all of the couch, Charlotte often squeezing herself next to him and absently jiggling his rolls as they watched a movie or show and snacked. His huge legs spread to make room for his giant belly and he found himself resting his arms on it. He had to admit that he was making a good place to set bowls within reach to munch from.

He let out a short exhale as his legs were starting to tremble from the effort of standing in place and observing himself for so long, his breathing starting to become heavy. He waddled himself around a little, watching ripples shake his huge rolls and belly. It took a moment for the shaking to settle, and Theo took a deep, satisfied breath.

But…besides all that, the clothes were really the only problem, and he was often in the comfy sweats and roomy athletic wear she had bought for him.

He was happy to let her spoil him too. Rough days at work? Delicious food. Tons of snacks with movies. The belly rubs, the increased intimacy…

She had always been loving and sweet, but it seemed like lately she was always running her hands over him and having increasingly lingering hugs. He definitely noticed the times she gave his sides a long, jiggling squeeze, but…man, it felt so good.

She knew all the best places to grab and squish, and she knew how to make him feel like he waa a god. Her hands traveled over every roll and curve he developed, her eyes sparkled every time he stepped on the scale.

She's would lovingly rub his huge belly, gently slapping and wobbling him around. It felt so good, and he would moan happily as she played. And when they went to bed?

Theo smiled smugly at himself, thinking of how excited Charlotte got almost every night when she watched him wobble himself to bed and heavily land himself on the edge. The little pink and purple hickies all over his covered chest were evidence of such.

Everything he had been afraid of losing that one night Charlotte came home was nothing but a distant dream now. Charlotte was totally his and he was all hers.

And you know?

Maybe he actually wasn't that big. Sure, it was the biggest he had ever been, but his girlfriend loved him more than ever.

He grabbed his belly and gave it a shake up-and-down. It bounced and jiggled and he felt himself smile with surprising satisfaction.

And he couldn't deny he liked it too. He wasn't enormously big, but he liked being the biggest guy in the room now. The way everyone acknowledged when he entered, his girlfriend holding tight to his huge arm. Her affectionate belly pats when they talked to their friends. Doorways were smaller, seats struggled to contain him, and he eclipsed Charlotte with his huge body.

And it was fine. He wasn't too big. He could still walk, still go out with Charlotte–it would even be fine if he got a little bigger. She always found a way to help him fit through and into places. He wore his huge, fat body well and Charlotte loved it. What would a few more pounds be?

His sweet girlfriend would be back soon with bigger clothes and they could settle down for another nice meal. He was feeling especially hungry now too. Maybe she picked up a giant meal from his favorite barbecue place? He figured he would call her and put in a request if she had nothing else planned.

He smiled at himself in the mirror, his chubby face grinning back at him. He hefted his belly up again and let it drop, watching it jiggle.

“I’m not too big. I’ve still got room to grow,” he said to himself with a pleased smile.

[corbonated]

Chapter 1: Fattening beginnings

A story about a guy who has always wanted to become massively fat, and with the green light from his therapist decides to dive head first into a new world of gluttony. (I have never written before , so if you have any thoughts, please share! Let me know if you all would want to read more!)

“I can’t believe I said all that.” I gasped, practically out of breath by how turned on I was. It had not been an hour since I had left my therapist’s office and I was already home with a few quarts of heavy cream I had just picked up from the store, standing in front of the mirror inspecting my body for what I hoped was the last time it’d ever be slender and toned.

A little over 3 hours earlier, I had walked into my therapists office, heart beating out of my chest, nervous as to how my therapist was going to react. I had never spoken about my deepest darkest desires before. My obsession with growing my own fat, morbidly obese, heavy body had consumed my thoughts and my dreams. I knew I had to tell someone before I did something irresponsible and committed to a lifestyle I couldn’t undo.

“Hi Dr. Fleming! It’s been a while!” I said, being extra chipper as to cover up how nervous I was. “Hey buddy! Glad to see ya come in today!” Dr. Fleming was a nice man, very slender with dark features and always very well put together. He always wore a smile and seemed to always care the utmost about comforting me about my issues. “What brings you in today? Anything new come up that’s eating away atcha?” I could feel my face burning with anticipation, my stomach growled, and I started to rub my sweaty palms onto my sweatpants. “Well yeah actually, something’s been on my mind recently - or well I guess it’s always kinda been there…” I couldn’t believe how easily the words were slipping out of my mouth, it was like it wasn’t even me talking, but something else deep inside of me itching to finally spill my guts. “You see… I’ve always been into bigger bodies. Of course you know this… but I’m attracted to them.” He looked at me like he was trying to read what I was saying off of my eyes. “Yeah buddy, we’ve talked about this. It’s completely normal to be attracted to plus size bodies. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Dr Fleming said with a smile and a nod. “You see, it’s not just that though… I don’t just like looking at bigger bodies… I want one of my own. I want to be big Dr.Fleming. Like huge obese belly hanging between my legs big.” Now that I had started talking, it’s like I couldn’t stop myself. The words just vomited right out of me. “I want to feel what it’s like to be restricted by how fat I am. Eat whatever I see and be an exhibition of pure gluttony wherever i go. I’m obsessed with the idea of being out of breath due to how massive my body is and how difficult it is to lug around. I want people to be shocked by how massive I’d gotten in such a short time… Dr.Fleming, I think I need to be huge. I’ve dealt this way for a while and it’s kinda becoming all I can think about.” As I slowly regain consciousness and catch my breath from my mind dump, I lock eyes with Dr. Fleming who’s sitting 5 feet from me on an identical leather chair to the one I’m in. “You seem really passionate about this.” He pauses for a second, his smile fades. “I think you should go for it. I mean be healthy about it and don’t make and brash decisions, but I think you should look into these desires. At least for a short period of time, give it a test run, then let’s reconvene and discuss how you feel. Who knows maybe you’ll have changed your mind by then.” He says shrugging with a smile. I can feel myself blushing from excitement.

Dr.Fleming and I shake hands as I get up to leave his office. We had spent another 45 minutes or so talking about normal things like work and friends, but my mind was in my belly. I needed to start this new life of gluttony fast.

“Hi! Did Dr. Fleming and you discuss a date for you to come back?” The beautiful front door receptionist asked bubbly. “Yeah actually, we talked about meeting again in 3 months.” I said returning her kind smile. “Sounds lovely, I’ll get that scheduled for ya!” She said waving as I turned to walk out of the building. Walking to my car I start thinking about how fast my life is going to turn upside down with my heart mind and gut all aligned towards putting on as much weight as possible. I decide as I’m getting into my car that I will take Dr Flemings advice as a challenge, and vow to gain as much weight as possible by the next time I see him.

Day dreaming about how fat I’ll be, I hardly notice I’m pulling into my local grocery store without even thinking about it. Without hesitation I park the car and go straight for the dairy section. I quickly scan the shelves looking for heavy cream. I throw 6 quarts (their whole stock) into my cart and head to the frozen section. 3 pints of icecream later, I’m heading to the checkout aisle. Without thinking I walk up to a clerk in one of the assisted checkout lanes. As I’m loading up the thousands of calories onto the conveyor. I watch as she looks at the cream and then to me puzzled. She doesn’t say anything but I can tell she doesn’t quite understand what such a slender guy could be doing with such fattening, sugar filled treats.

Now, back home standing in front of the mirror inspecting my naked body, i could feel my heart pumping. I quickly left to pull a chair up in front in front of the standing mirror, and promptly plopped myself down. I had two quarts of heavy cream and a pint of icecream melted and blended into a large container. I pulled the heavy container up to my lips and began chugging, feeling my mind go numb. Fighting the urge to close my eyes I watched in the mirror as my throat moved up and down as gulped the thousand of calories into my expanding gut. I started to breathe heavier out my nose as I could feel the cool liquid sitting heavy in my stomach. Nonetheless I committed to not stopping until the creamy goodness of 7,500 calories of weight gain shake was densely packed inside me.

With only a few gulps left I could feel my belly stretching. The sweet creamy concoction was expanding my poor belly to unhealthy proportions. I closed my eyes and muscled through it, amazed with how well I had done in my first chug of what was soon to be many. I let my arms go limp to my side, dropping the container to the ground. Letting out a large groan, I felt cream rolling down the corners of my mouth to my chin. My eyes closed from brain fog and my arms sore from holding this heavy container up for what felt like hours, I began to rub my protruding belly which was now visibly rotund and stiff to the touch. Naked, slouched in this chair, in front of the mirror, I rubbed my over filled gut until I fell asleep dreaming of what I was going to fill myself with tomorrow.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Repeat after me: I love being fucking fat and overfed.

[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...

[gainingfiction]

Heavily Used

Summary: This is a bit experimental (or weird), and maybe a bit predictable, but I had fun writing it. This is a story about an important relationship in a fat guy’s life, and the risk of taking things for granted. It’s also a story about coping (or not coping) with change.

Hope you enjoy!

~

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I can only handle so much. It’s one thing to be taken for granted, that’s something we all have to live with. It’s just the total lack of acknowledgment, or even awareness that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna snap and call it quits.

A little bit about me: I’m stylish, polished, and pretty easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself. Born in Poland, but my background is Swedish—I’m European, at heart. The name is Anders, but no one actually calls me that. I’m not super high-maintenance, once you figure me out, but everyone needs a little attention from time to time. Some tending.

Especially living with Max.

I’ve known Max for a while, and he’s not a bad guy. He can be a little rough sometimes, and maybe a little careless, but it doesn’t come from a bad place. I think it’s just a lack of self-awareness. And let’s be honest, that’s a common problem among pretty-boy jocks.

The trouble with Max is that he’s not the pretty-boy I once knew. He’s changed… he’s grown. I mean, he’s literally grown. Grown by about a hundred pounds, if I had to guess, and counting. Over the course of our time together, I’ve gotten pretty familiar with his ass, and I’ll admit, it’s a great one. But, boy, he’s got a lot more ass for me to handle these days.

It’s not insurmountable, not yet at least. But I’m worried it’s getting there.

It started out simply enough, the innocent midnight snacks and occasional takeout treats. No problem, right? Twunks can afford to indulge a little, especially a hot commodity like Max. But then, you get comfortable. You settle into a routine, you let yourself go. That’s the thing about creatures of beauty: one minute you’re the hottest guy in town, trim and toned, with a golden tan and handsome face and perfect, silky hair. The sort of guy who only seems to exist in a Hollywood version of reality. But then, inevitably, something happens. Sometimes tastes change, or maybe you’re the one doing the changing.

I won’t deny, I’m not in the same shape I was when I entered Max’s life for the first time. Any long-term relationship comes with the normal wear-and-tear. Max, though, has taken it to a whole new level.

The little snacks become big snacks. The extra meals go from “occasional” to “frequent” to “everyday”. Gluttony takes over. A 32-inch waist becomes a 36-inch waist becomes a 40-inch waist; size-small shirts are discarded in the back of the closet, soon joined by ill-fitting mediums, and then by larges, stretched out of shape by a gut that won’t stop getting bigger. Max used to flit around the apartment like a bird; now he lumbers like an elephant, heavy footfalls and a slow, waddling gait. His own warning system—you can hear him coming.

On paper, I know I should be trying to help lighten the load. And it’s not like I’m totally unappreciated; there are days when he comes home from work, legs tired and arms loaded down with takeout, and I can tell he’s genuinely happy to have me. But it doesn’t last long. Once dinner’s over, I’m back to being ignored while he sits on the couch, gorging himself in front of the TV, until he comes around again to stuff his face at the next meal. Which, to be fair, is pretty often these days.

It sounds cruel, the way I talk about his escalating weight, his increasingly-indecent greed. I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish he’d consider how it might affect me. I have to live with him, and he’s starting to cramp my style. But it’s not like I can say anything. I just have to sit there in silence, while he eats and eats, grows and grows, piling on pound after excess pound. And the way he eats, moaning and licking and slurping… it’s downright pornographic.

250 starts to feel like a lowball as the months go by. He’s pushing me to my limits without even realizing it. I’ve never had to deal with a guy this fat before, a guy whose big, round bubble butt would hang over the side of even the most substantial chair. And I, personally, am not “substantial”. I’m pretty thin; it’s just how I was made. I thought Max was made that way, too.

I start trying to make my frustration known, but like I said, I can’t just come right out and say something. So I try a little subtlety; a small groan every now and then when he throws himself down at the dinner table for another round of hedonism. If he notices, he doesn’t care. He just keeps upping the ante.

And upping just about everything else: his pants size, his portion sizes, the size of his monster-truck ass and thunder thighs. They press together whenever he sits down, now, lard against blubber. Not like in the old days when his legs were lithe and lean. His moobs bulge against every tank top, his pudgy arms pack his sleeves, his love handles blossom over the top of every waistband like ripening tropical fruit.

In occasional moments of self-pity, I hazard a guess: how much does my man weigh now? 275 pounds? 300? Is he even trying to do something about it? Clearly not. He never works out anymore, unless you count working up a sweat over a third (or fourth, or fifth) slice of cheesecake. I honestly wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me. Or test me. But I know that’s crazy—like I said, sometimes I truly doubt he even thinks about what it’s like for me.

But the problem is getting harder to ignore; he really throws his weight around these days. He heaves himself up off the couch. He rests a hand on the front of his bulging belly, barely restrained by some poor, threadbare top, back arching forward from the strain of it all (he’s not a tall guy, which makes his increasingly S-shaped silhouette even more pronounced). He trudges from the living room to the kitchen and drops himself in front of the table like an anvil. When he sits down, his ass, spilling out of some indecent pair of jean shorts, spreads out like lava blanketing some hapless Roman hamlet.

Some nights, I strain underneath him, feeling absolutely crushed by his sheer weight, boundless mass bearing down on me with the force of gravity. How big is he now? I wonder, as I listen to him moan and groan with pleasure. 325? 350? Could he really have gained over 200 pounds? How could he not realize what he’s doing to himself—what he’s doing to me?

He’s just so oblivious. I don’t even recognize him anymore. I’ve been starting to make noises about how uncomfortable I am, how much I’m struggling with his extra weight. But, as always, it falls on deaf ears. His tight little butt has become a pair of vast, ponderous globes, his abs and lats and obliques are encased in a spare tire that belongs on an 18-wheeler, his tits bulge out and dangle towards his armpits. And he just. Keeps. Going. 

Keeps eating. Keeps gaining. Keeps expanding.

Things reach a boiling point before dinner one night. I can see him piling up the table, unboxing some outrageous quantity of food for his secret nightly mukbang. Well, secret except for the consequences, which anyone with eyes could notice. “There’s a man who likes his food” would be such a trite, vapid observation that it doesn’t even need saying. He doesn’t just “like” his food, he lives for his food. Food is practically a part of Max’s identity at this point.

He’s starting to lower his colossal ass to sit, and I can tell this is it. Tonight’s the night. Fuck it, I’m done. He’s well past 350 pounds, and that’s too much weight for me to handle.

Maybe he’ll appreciate me more when I’m not around. Hejdå, Max, it was nice knowing you! At least, it used to be.

~

Max sat on the floor, rolls of fat still wobbling from the jarring motion of his fall. His chair had been complaining for a while now—squeaking and groaning every time he sat down—but he hadn’t expected it to actually break. What a load of bullshit! He wasn’t even that fat!

He looked around at the splintered wood, soreness radiating across his ass—and not in a fun, post-fucking kind of way. At least his buttocks were nicely-padded. When he was bony, a slip on the ice hurt like all hell.

He was glad he was alone, or this would have been super embarrassing. At least no one was around to see him smash that chair like a pro-wrestler in a grudge match. He knew he’d been overdoing it, but this wasn’t his fault. How could it be, surely he wasn’t that big? Just a little out of shape, in need of a few good workouts to shed some winter weight. It was just the cheap IKEA furniture he bought.

With a grunt, he started the process of heaving his monumental form to a stand. As he started to gather his momentum, he glanced at the ruined seat and frowned. He actually liked that chair. It was pretty comfortable.

At least, it used to be.

(Author’s Note: don’t forget to rotate your dining chairs!)

[wonderingsoftly]

pondering

i've just been in an admiring, introspective mood lately. i wanted to write something quick and from theo's pov about how he feels about himself since i wrote something from charlotte's.

and the image of her snoozing on his belly while he reads a book has firmly embedded itself in my brain...so i'll probably draw it eventually too. hehe.

---

Theo smiled as he felt Charlotte gently snuggle herself into his side as he tried to keep reading through the novel he held in his hand.

He had been pretty engrossed in what he was reading until he caught her sneaking up with her favorite blanket in his periphery. He tried playing oblivious, half-focusing on his book as Charlotte’s sweet, dark head bobbed closer and closer.

He nonchalantly lifted his arm, trying not to giggle as Charlotte’s settling into his side tickled him.

Now she was firmly nestled into his soft, fat side and he gently lowered his wide arm back down to rest on her shoulders. Charlotte let out a happy sigh, nuzzling him.

“Is it okay if I nap here?” Charlotte asked, softly rubbing his belly. “You weren't going to get up or anything?”

Theo chuckled. Even if he was going to try and move, there's no way he would now.

He tenderly pulled her blanket up over her shoulder and gave it a little pat.

“I’m all yours.”

He heard Charlotte reply with a pleased hum and felt her pat his stomach.

Theo slightly craned his neck to peer further over his moobs at Charlotte’s serene face. She was already drowsing, her eyes slowly drooping. He smiled, pleased, and turned his attention back to his book.

He tried his best to pick up where he left off, but he found himself far too distracted by the feeling of Charlotte’s breathing coming to a slow rhythm. Theo simply set his book down and let out a long, satisfied exhale, relaxing himself into the couch.

He remembered her doing this once before–when they were dating and before they had decided to make him fat.

Theo recalled Charlotte snuggling into his side hundreds of pounds ago and he let out a breathy laugh through his nose.

He was spending the weekend at her place, looking for some quiet time with her and away from any other obligations. Now, he hadn't been bony by any means back then, but he remembered her adjusting often and trying to find an optimal position for her to stay asleep.

She eventually ended up snoozing on his lap for a little while, and then drowsily wandered herself into her room to nap.

He peered at Charlotte’s face again, finding her fast asleep, her hands curling up in his huge belly. A wave of pride washed over him and he smiled. He figured his much, much softer physique made for a much nicer pillow.

Theo’s gaze traveled from Charlotte’s content sleep to her soft, lavish pillow–him.

He was different now.

That memory he had recalled was years ago. The silly vision of Charlotte trying and failing to sleep on him was now almost a lifetime away to Theo.

Nowadays he took up most of the couch, his belly always hanging over his waistband and eager to be filled when mealtime rolled around. He was soft and plush and enormous. He let out a little scoff, remembering that once upon a time he used to be nervously conscious of how much space he took up.

Sure, he was still aware of just how big he was, but he gladly claimed the space he needed. Charlotte helped make sure he got it too, and their friends quickly worked to accommodate him and his growth.

Theo started gently stroking Charlotte's hair, warmth swelling in his wide chest. She let out a quiet, happy moan.

That was another thing to how heavy he became. Charlotte easily found comfort in his size and softness. And that comforted him, too.

It was immensely satisfying to have her lose her sorrows or frustrations in his big belly. The way she would squeeze herself tighter and closer, the tension leaving her shoulders and expression…

Theo thoughtfully, carefully traced a silvery hair among the rest of Charlotte’s black hair with his thumb.

Their life was pleasing and warm. He was happy, fed and fattened up not just to Charlotte’s liking, but to his as well.

He gave his belly a satisfied pat, taking a deep breath in and out. He reveled in his hugeness, taking a moment to notice how his fat effortlessly pressed against the armrest and filled two cushions.

He then marveled at how small Charlotte felt against him. A pleased smile crept across his face and the warmth in his chest began flooding through his whole body.

How could he have ever wanted anything other than this?

The warmth began to make Theo drowse too, sleepiness growing stronger as he followed Charlotte’s slow breathing. He leaned his head back, adjusting enough to find a comfy spot of his own without disturbing Charlotte.

Maybe once Charlotte woke up, they could order something in to eat. He wanted to make sure he would stay nice and soft–for Charlotte’s sake and for his, too.

[pecanwriter]

Big Boy Mode: Activated

Themes: rapid weight gain, humiliation kink, technology-induced weight gain (so like, magic weight gain but for sci fi nerds I guess)

Words: 2947

Part: 1/?

"Hello, sir, would you like to hear about our newest product, the most revolutionary nanotechnology to date?"

Elliott really wasn't one to ever let some marketing lackey torment him with semi-logical babble about something he didn't even want to buy. But he was a technology whore, and just the mere mention of nanotechnology had him nearly salivating at the mouth.

He smiled at the promoter, stepping closer and trying to look at all the flashing screens at once. 

"Introducing SimNano or Simulator Nano. This revolutionary technology is the newest hit in terms of body augmentation and we're making record sales all around the globe."

The promoter pulled something from his pad to one of the screens. 

"The way this works, we inject nanobots into your body and connect their signature to your personalised control panel as well as a wristband, the wristband sold separately." 

He watched as on the screen a scrawny shirtless man selected a holographic projection of his body and added 50% more muscle to the model. He clicked "Active Mode" at the bottom of the screen and for a moment his entire body rippled in an unfamiliar way until he stood there completely buffed out, Captain America style.

Elliott blinked. He looked from the freshly buffed-out man to the promoter.

"How does that work?"

"The nanobots we inject into the client's system are capable of replication and imitation of any human tissue. However, they are only capable of growing, not shrinking, it's not a diet pill as many would hope so." The promoter laughed at his own poor joke.

Elliot chuckled obligingly but the phrase "they are only capable of growing" was bouncing around in his head trying to make him hard. 

"Is there a limit to what they can imitate? For example, if someone was missing a leg…?" He chose his words carefully, hoping the man would fall for his set-up and tell him exactly what he wanted.

The man's gaze flickered down to Elliot's leg and although Elliot had no such thing, he let the man assume he had a prosthetic. It was an unassuming lie, didn't hurt anyone, it was just better than even a sliver of the truth.

"Oh, they're absolutely capable of replicating a leg. As I said, they can imitate any human tissue, muscles, nerves, fat, even bones…"

When he said the f-word Elliot's cock jerked awake and he had to cover his crotch with the shopping bag he was holding.

"And are the changes permanent…?"

"No, that's not how it works, It's imitating and replicating the tissue in Active Mode, but as soon as it's Deactivated everything goes back to normal."

Elliot's cock was throbbing as he fought to maintain perfectly normal eye contact with the promoter.

"And while it's active, does it feel real or is it like a hologram or a model or…"

"Oh no, It feels absolutely real, that's why we are the leading company in…"

He prattled on but Elliot didn't listen, all he could think of was the phrase "it's only capable of growing" as his cock throbbed.

"How much is it?"

It was bloody expensive, as it turned out. Elliott put a sizable dent in the savings he was putting away to get a mortgage on a single-bedroom flat. But somehow, all he felt was excitement, there was no shame or regret to be found anywhere.

After he made his purchases he had to go to their branch store and get injected with nanobots. The syringe wasn't that big and he wondered if it would be enough firepower for what he had in mind. They scanned his body thoroughly to put the model into his pad and wristband and connect the nanobots to it. As a trial, the shopping clerk showed him how to give himself impressive biceps and everyone present at the shop oohed and awed at the result. 

The promoter was right, it felt absolutely real. The rippling Sensation Elliott saw in the video felt only like a slight cold tingling under his skin and then within seconds the impressive biceps appeared.

He deactivated his SimNano, thanked the clerk and left, struggling to walk straight with his dick pressing hard against his trousers.

When he came home he almost immediately tore off his shirt. He brought out the control panel on the band with shaking hands and clicked on the scrawny little model of himself. He moved his finger around, highlighting his midriff and ass. He clicked "expand" and then in the tissue subcategory he clicked "fat" instead of the pre-selected "muscle". You could put the desired amounts in body percentages or in units of measurement. He clicked on lbs, the most precise one, and tapped in 20(9kg). Then after a moment's hesitation, he erased it and clicked 40lb(18kg) instead.

With shaking fingers he clicked "Active Mode" and his skin began to tingle with the cold sensation. Seconds later Elliott was staring down at a round, fat gut and he could feel his boxers strain mercilessly against his expanded ass. 

He put the pad away gently and grabbed the ball of flab at his front. He was never this fat in his life, but it felt real enough, from what he could guess. He lifted the stomach and let it drop, watching it jiggle and wobble. A moan escaped him. He couldn't believe this was happening. 

Before even getting a look in the mirror Elliott fell to the couch, frantically gnawing his flesh with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. He never came this hard in his entire life. 

He finally managed to pull himself up into standing, revelling in how his gut was suddenly in the way and looked in the mirror. 

He laughed, the effect was ridiculous. Although his belly and ass looked fantastic and absolutely realistic, it looked ludicrous on his scrawny body which remained unchanged.

Elliott deactivated the band and reset the model. After a moment’s hesitation, he selected his entire body “Increase by 100% body mass” and selected “fat” in the tissue category. He considered carefully and finally decided to increase his ass and gut separately on top of increasing the fat equally around his entire body. 

Elliott’s finger hovered over the band, but before clicking the Activate button he checked the measurement box again and changed 100% to 200lb. Again, before clicking it, he wavered and finally ended up changing it to 300lb(136kg) with sweaty fingers. Adding 300lb to his meagre 132lb(60kg) would put him at a glorious 432lb(195kg), a fulfilment of a fantasy Elliott had since before he was even consciously aware of it. 

Eliott pressed the Activate button.

He was still standing in front of the mirror and he let out a gasp as the nanobots went to work, making his entire body shiver with the unfamiliar coldness, the feeling much more overwhelming with tasking them to simulate 300lb instead of a measly 40 he attempted at first. 

Elliott watched with intense, nearly blinding fascination as his body rippled slightly and moments later exploded into folds and bulges and rolls, becoming an unrecognisable mountain of flesh. He stared at the enormous gut, too heavy to be completely round as it hung in front of him almost like a massive, engorged flesh apron. His face was unrecognisable, swallowed by an enormous double chin and chubby cheeks, melting into the fat around his neck seamlessly. The man in the mirror couldn’t be him, could he? It was too good to be real… The fat man lifted his arm as Elliott lifted his, only his arm never had an enormous wing of fat hanging off it and jiggling as he moved. When Elliott moved his normal arm it didn’t send his entire massive body into wobbles, but the man in the mirror sure wobbled like an impressive jello dessert. 

Elliott grabbed his gut, an enormous, almost all-encompassing mound of flesh hanging in front of him. He grabbed it, lifted it as much as he could and dropped it. The way the flesh shook and jiggled forced a moan out of him. Already half-hard again, he inched closer to the mirror. Elliott could barely move under the unknown sensation of this immense bulk and he almost stumbled into his mirror, nearly crushing it. Just the half step made his heart race with excursion and his lungs begged for air. 

This SimNano thing was worth every penny, in fact, Elliott thought they were losing money. It was too good to be real. 

He turned off Active Mode, in a few seconds staring back at this familiar skinny self with an impressive hard-on. 

Staring intently, eager to catch every little detail, he pressed Activate again. 

Watching his body explode with fat, filling out with blubber in mere seconds and leaving him unrecognisable was so impossibly erotic that he climaxed just from turning the SimNano off and on again, watching himself gain hundreds of pounds in seconds. 

After he managed to somehow climax three times within the span of an hour he decided it was enough for one day, he was starting to feel light-headed. 

He tapped Deactivate. 

Nothing happened. 

He tapped it again. Still, nothing.

He stared at the band, but it appeared to be frozen. Frantically, he started waddling unsteadily to his backpack where the main SimNano pad was. Walking across the room to his bag while suddenly 300lb heavier was incredibly difficult and equally, if not more, arousing. His giant thighs were rubbing against each other, he could feel he was hitting his enormous apron of a gut with each clumsy step… The enormous behind he’d given himself jiggled with every step and so did his soft, blubbery tits. 

When he finally made it to his back and retrieved his pad Elliott was nearly ready to collapse with how out of breath he was. 

The pad was as frozen as the band was. 

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into the mirror across the room. He was enormous, there was no way he could leave the house like this and he had a night shift at the bar today. 

It was 5 p.m., and he had work at 8, so technically, he still had time. He could just… Indulge for a while while waiting for the SimNano to unfreeze. 

Elliott laboriously waddled to the bedroom. He had a few pieces of massive clothing he sometimes wore while stuffing it with pillows and pretending he was huge. He pulled on a pair of tracksuit trousers. They could barely encompass his enormous ass. Even the biggest of his secret fetish shirts was snug on him now and his monstrous gut was happily hanging out at the bottom. 

The flat needed tidying up and he also had to cook to have something to eat after his shift when he would undoubtedly be too tired to do anything. 

He began busying himself around the house, every little chore making him hornier than the last one. Everything was a thrill, trying to wipe dust off the higher shelves and feeling how his enormous gut was hanging further and further out of his shirt, trying to wash dishes and finding that he could barely reach into the sink with the enormous mound of blubber in the front of him. When he went to clean the plastic shower door, something that he meant to do all week, he nearly got stuck in the narrow space and instead of trying to find the best angle to free himself he rubbed against the shower wall, making himself cum just with the friction against his fat body. He would’ve jerked himself off if the was any hope of reaching his penis under all that flesh, which there absolutely wasn’t.

With all the chores completed and with food prepped for later, Elliott went to check on the pad. It was still frozen. It was 7.20 pm.

He called in sick and trying not to freak out about it just yet he repositioned the mirror closer to the couch where he planted his enormous ass and began rubbing his flesh. 

There was no need to freak out, he was sure the NanoSim would reset overnight. 

*

Elliott woke up still on the couch and still as enormous as when he drifted off, exhausted by the almost constant sexual tension of the previous day. 

He tapped the band. Frozen. The pad proved to be in a similar state. 

Elliott tried calling the NanoSim Technical Support but they told him that there was nothing they could do remotely because there were health hazards involved, so he would have to come to one of their stores to get it reset. 

Which meant… Going outside as a 432lb man. 

Elliott ate his modest breakfast of a skinny man and wondered how it would look to an outsider, a guy who was nearly half-tone of blubber eating a modest portion of oatmeal. 

Before leaving the house he pulled on a beanie and didn’t shave his unimpressive stubble. There was no way anyone would recognise him, but he still didn’t want to risk it. 

His heart was pounding so hard that it was all he could hear as Elliott stepped out into the hallway. 

Usually, Elliott just took the stairs from the second floor he lived on, but there was no way he was going to take the stairs today, he could barely move with all that unfamiliar weight on him, his waddle almost a caricature of itself. 

There was a lady in the lift and when the doors opened she frantically looked between Elliott and the lift control panel informing all the passengers that the weight limit was 500lb. She was slim, but there was no way she was less than 100lb. 

“You go on” Elliott smiled at her and she pressed the button to close the door almost frantically. 

He wasn’t sure if he actually WAS 432lb or if the nanobots just made it appear so to him, but he wasn’t going to risk it. 

There was an Uber waiting for him, but Elliott had to cancel the ride when it turned out that he couldn’t fit in the car. 

With his dick painfully hard and trapped between mounds of flesh he selected a different ride, making sure it was big enough to accommodate for a massive hog like him. He barely fit and his gut filled his lap completely. The driver was visibly disgusted and Elliott’s already painfully hard dick throbbed under his apron belly. 

Waddling and puffing his way through the shopping centre to the SimNano store was the most humiliating and gratifying experience of his life. Everyone, without exception, stared at the giant man barely waddling his way through the halls, his too-small shirt riding up his enormous gut and his face flushed with the effort of putting all that blubber into motion. 

When he finally made it to the store he was heaving, his breath rasping and his entire body sticky with sweat. 

The only person in the store was the clerk, a teak-skinned man with a mop of black curls and bright, quick eyes. He was very much Elliott’s type and the fact that he had to talk to a handsome guy while his enormous gut hung out of his shirt and he was so out of breath was arousing beyond all reason. 

“Hello, I’m Omar, how can I help you?” 

“Hi, I… uff.. Sorry… I have a problem with my SimNano, the program froze last night and it’s still frozen.” He handed the man his pad, still trying to catch his breath. 

“Let’s see here…” Omar took his pad from him and when he saw the program the SimNano was frozen on he slowly looked back up at Elliott, his lips stretching into a mischievous grin. Elliott felt like his entire face was on fire. Somehow it didn’t dawn on him that the clerk would see the program he was running. If he could, he’d bolt it out of the store in embarrassment, but he couldn’t, not when he was this massive. 

“Let me just do some troubleshooting here.” Omar said, his smirk still on his face as he plugged the device into a PC and started clicking. 

“Alright,” he said a few minutes later. “It looks like I got it, but let me just check…” 

“What…”

Elliott watched with growing terror as Omar proceeded to add another 50lb(22kg) to his program and activating it. Elliott staggered back, feeling his gut hanging marginally lower, the waistband of his tracksuit digging just that much deeper into his blubber. 

“Just to double check, better to be sure.” Omar said, adding another 50 on top of that. 

Elliott had to grab onto the counter as the enormous weight started to threaten to topple him to the ground. He was heaving just from the sheer effort of standing up.

Omar’s cheeky grin was turning downright mischievous. 

“I think it’s working now.” the clerk said, bringing the program down to its original +300lb setting. 

“T-thank you…” Elliott panted, taking his pad back and thanking all the Gods that his gut hid his erection. 

As he was waddling back to the entrance Omar’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Ey, fat boy.” 

That nickname alone nearly made Elliott give an ungainly moan, right there in the middle of the shopping centre.

“Y-yes?” “Give me your number, I write NanoSim codes in my spare time and big improvement to the overall experience. I mean…. Huge improvements.” 

Omar’s grin was pure evil and Elliott was sure his own was no better as he gave the handsome man his number.

This was going to be fun. 

PART 2

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Evidence

Not again. 

Hunger pangs make my insides whine.

Just a few hours ago I ate so much food. Enough for 4-5 people, or 4000+ calories, has completely disappeared. Vanished. Gone without a trace. 

But some evidence remains. 

My fat, overfed gut is spilled over my lap. Thick, blubbery rolls are piled up on my sides and they connect to my fat tits, and my gigantic, overblown back roll. A back roll so massive it stops me from flatly laying against chairs, or beds! My thighs are like huge loaves of doughy bread, yet to bake and risen to completely bulging out. My flabby, meaty, and downright blobby upper arms are attached to squishy forearms. Even my wrists and my hands are chubby. 

Even more evidence is noticeable to the trained eye. 

My whole body is covered in old stretch marks. They’re concentrated most is my fattest parts: belly, back, hips, and shoulders. Tears in my smooth, soft skin from trying to contain gorging after gorging. Tray after tray of baked goods, bag after bag of fast food, plate after plate of delicious dinner, all of it disappeared past my plump lips. 

My body provides plenty more evidence. 

I get so excited. So aroused by the mere idea of overeating. My mouth waters when I think about my mouth opening. My breathing quickens at the thought of my breaths becoming labored after I eat it all. My knees hurt when I stand up, but my knees get weak at the idea that I may not be able to after I’m done eating. 

That it even hurts at all from lugging around this body completely overladen with heavy, sagging fat, completely layered in a weighted blanket of solid, hanging lard…is truly exciting. My lower back yearns for relief from my gut constantly tugging on it. My chest and my double chins make it hard to breath in many positions. My truly enormous ass and overfed thighs make it hard to fit in places. 

All solid evidence. 

But the most damning evidence that there was indeed a family sized portion existing just hours ago in this room with me? 

My overweight, swollen, and completely inflated stomach. A pliable, jiggly, bouncy monument of gluttony. A fleshy orb of desires made real. A lack of self control, an over abundance of food, and a sign of sheer dedication. A sagging, fat sack of meat. A pampered, doted on shrine of self fulfillment.

No one could cultivate all this mass. No one could grow all of this. No one could become this fat. 

Well, unless they were a pig. 

Well, unless they were a slave to their hungry gut. 

Well, unless they lived to completely overfeed themselves. 

There is plenty of evidence.