#feedee fiction

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Please, stuff me until I’m out of breath. (make it so I can’t breath properly)

Please, stuff me until I’m heaving. (make me unable to swallow anymore)

Please, stuff me until I’m burping uncontrollably. (make me burp as I’m trying to eat more)

Please, stuff me until my jaw is sore. (make my tongue cramp)

Please, stuff me until I can’t stand up without assistance. (make me too heavy to help)

Please, stuff me until I can’t walk. (make me temporarily immobile)

Please, stuff me until I am sleepy. (make me pass out)

Please, stuff me until my belly is distended. (make my gut so much fatter)

Please, stuff me until I’m addicted to eating. (make me desperate for more food)

[jawwtin]

It Doesn't Stop...

The funnel has been getting more and more use, and your greedy little head has become somewhat addicted to it, hasn't it... ;))

It's been a hot minute since my last audio recording, but this was a wonderful one I had to do once I came across it, written by @purgatorylayby! Check out the original post below, and as always click the "#my audio" tag on my blog for my other readings 😘

[kilojulia]

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

(YN) felt alive with every pound she gained. It started small—an extra dessert, a second helping—but soon became an obsession. She loved the stretch of her skin, the heaviness in her limbs, the way her reflection grew to fill the mirror. Each new number on the scale was a victory, a tangible mark of her indulgence. Friends faded, concern in their eyes, but (YN) didn't care. She documented her growth online, finding a community that celebrated her transformation. Every meal was a ritual, every bite a step toward her goal. Satisfaction wasn’t in stopping—it was in becoming more.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

[blepjkabf]

”when did my baby get so fat?”

All day you had been teasing. I went to work before you woke up and as soon as you did you sent me selfies of you drinking a weight gain shake and wearing a shirt that definitely fit better 20 pounds ago. I’d reply with encouragement and get back to work but before I know it you’re texting me again. This time you’re telling me that you’re getting ready to go out with a friend and you just cant seem to find pants that fit properly. You tell me you went with a dress instead and send me a picture, obviously trying to tease. In the picture you’re standing sideways in front of a mirror in that blue and purple dress. It’s tied tightly, your belly pressing against the front and the cut out in the back definitely showing how soft you’ve gotten. You’ve got one hand on the phone and the other holding your definitely stuffed belly. I’d reply telling you how beautiful you look and that you’re definitely having fun without me. 

Finishing up my day at work I get another text from you. You tell me you’re home and getting comfy and that you had fun when you were out but your friend just couldn’t get over how fat you’d gotten. Apparently when she saw you she mentioned something about how I must be taking care of you well and then as you were eating lunch she saw your portion size and said something along the lines of no wonder that dress is so tight. You told me that you found it hard not to blush when she said that even though you thought you should be embarrassed. You finished up the message with a selfie from the couch showing you in just your bra and underwear where you had slipped out of your dress, saying by the time you got done for lunch it was way too tight so you were just gonna be comfortable until I got home. I’d reply teasing about how well you’re taken care of and how fat you’re looking today. I’d let you know that I’m on my way home and I can’t wait to see you. 

I’d walk through the door of our house and call for you, with no reply. I’d go into the living room and find you still in your underwear looking at me with those big doe eyes, holding your belly. I’d greet you how I normally would, walking up to kiss you and you’d pull me close. I’d end up looking down at you from where you’re sitting on the couch, heavy tits trying to spill out of your bra, belly resting out on your thighs, looking round but not quite as full anymore. I’d put my finger under your chin, guiding your head up to look at me, asking you what’s going on. You’d pull me closer again, telling me that you’re just so hungry. You had tried to stuff yourself a few times today but it’s just not the same without me and you need to be full. 

This had become a regular thing after you started gaining. You would get in the mood sometimes while I’m at work and you would get so worked up that by the time I got home you were begging to be stuffed. You noticed how much I loved it when you begged and wanted to be bigger so bad and it just made it more fun. 

You’ve gained about 30 pounds since you started gaining, and you love it so much there’s no end in sight. And now, you’re sitting infront of me, gains out for the world to see, begging me to make you gain even more. I lean down to kiss you gently again but you pull me in tight for a deep kiss. You grab my hand and pull it into your belly fat, looking me in the eyes begging for me to make you so much softer. I give in and hand you my phone with door dash open. I tell you to order as much as you want of whatever you want while I go get clean from work. You lean back on the couch, my phone in one hand and your belly in the other, mindlessly playing with it while you order. 

Soon enough the food would be here, I’d go get it from the door to save you the trip, me still not knowing what all you had ordered. I opened the door to find two big bags of Texas Roadhouse. I look back at you seeing the wide grin on your face. I’d bring the bags in and get everything out on the coffee table. I’d push you back on the couch and kiss you, only to pull back and tell you to beg. I’d make you beg to be stuffed. beg to get fatter. beg to be so stuffed you cant even get off the couch. You would start pleading, telling me how you want to be so much bigger, how you want that dress you were wearing earlier not to be able to reach around you. You just wanted to be my fat cow who opens her mouth and gets used. Not only had you ordered a meal, but you also ordered an appetizer and a dozen rolls. I had expected you to order more honestly, and I asked why you didn’t. You told me that once you finished this, you had a surprise for me. I just nodded along and picked up the thing of rolls, and you dug in. 

you ate until there was nothing left. Roll after roll, bite after bite, butter dripping down your chin as you pig out. Me just watching in awe. I let you feed yourself as I rub your expanding belly and kiss you all over. By the time you finish your food, you’re panting and you have a proper belly. One that sticks out, taking up more and more of your lap. I give you a minute before moving to eat you out, but you stop me. You say to help you up and then stay there. I pull you up with a groan and you waddle to the kitchen holding your freshly stuffed tummy. I stay there wondering what youre doing, but then it all makes sense as you waddle back into the living room. Not only are you carrying the funnel, but also a pitcher full of weight gain shake. 

“Baby how many of those have you had today?” 

“Not enough. Please just make me bigger and heavier.” 

“Oh baby I will but you dont just get to sit back and be fed.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well im gonna sit down and youre gonna ride my strap while I stick this funnel down your throat. So you can show me just how good it feels to be getting fattened up” 

You dont even respond before you push me down on the couch and straddle my waist. i slip it inside of you and you settle your weight on me, I moan at the feeling, your belly spilling out from between your thighs, settling against me. You start to move your hips as I stick the funnel into your mouth, slowly pouring calories upon calories into you. You moan at the taste, knowing that you’ll wake up in the morning still looking stuffed even though your stomach is empty. But thats the best part isnt it? Feeling yourself expand and get softer with every bite. Feeling how your clothes feel tighter and tighter around your pot belly. And moments like these when we can see how much you’ve really grown by stuffing you so full your belly defies gravity with the way it sticks out. 

I continue to pour the shake down the funnel, making you hold it so I can use one hand to pinch and rub you. I reach down to press at your belly and listen to you moan from the sensitivity. 

“Oh baby I told you it would get more sensitive the more you gained.” You just looked at me with pleading eyes, asking for more of the shake, asking to get even more sensitive. As you continued to drink, your belly pressed against me more and more, it going from full to taut. You looked atleast 6 months pregnant. You’d finish as I press against your belly more, and I would flip you around and set you down on the couch, you still holding the funnel in your mouth. I’d slip out of you and grab the dress you squeezed into earlier.

“Lets show everyone how well I take care of you princess” I’d set the funnel down and slip the dress over your head and tried to pull it down over your belly with not much luck, I look up at you to see you blushing and holding back a moan. I press on your belly to try to tug the dress down, you let the moans slip out as I tug the dress down, hearing the seems stretch to match your increased size. I cant even attempt to tie the back, but just getting it on was a feat on its own. With it on, I stick the funnel back in your mouth to your surprise. I press on your tummy as you attempt to finish the pitcher. Just as you swallow the last few mouthfuls, the side of the dress succumbs to the stress of your weight. Your belly spills out from the side and you look at me in awe. 

“Baby don’t you remember that we got this dress from the maternity section? when did my baby get so fat? I wonder what your friend would think about you now. Begging so much to be stuffed that your clothes cant hold you anymore, it’s pretty pathetic if you ask me..” 

[ajrjtj2]

So which cartoon “ruined” your brain and got you into this?

[sneap-sneap]

Missy’s Idea, pt 1

Heyyyy, this is the little thing I wrote! It involves Martin, who is a stuffed animal cat who likes to overfill himself, and his friend/sort-of girlfriend Missy, a flesh-and-blood cat.

———————————————————————

“What does it feel like?”

Missy’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice, and she turned to give him a look. “Martin, that’s so vague I don’t know how you expect me to answer-“

“I mean, what does being really full feel like to you?” Martin asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Missy absentmindedly scratched her side with a claw, her paw moving towards her belly as she considered. “I guess…it has a lot to do with the pressure. When you’ve eaten a lot, it’s really tight and you feel really stretched out.”

Martin squinted at her. “Well, I know what it feels like to be stretched. My stomach can stretch wayyy more than yours!”

“Martin, you do not have a stomach.” Missy rolled her eyes. “You’re basically a cloth bag of cotton fluff. It’s way different when it comes to an actual gastrointestinal system.” She paused for a second, and Martin looked at her in curiosity. He was used to being somewhat dismissed, but it seemed like she was really considering his question. Martin watched her rub her paw up and down her belly. She pushed the soft fur back and forth along the curve, somewhat more swollen than normal but nowhere near her maximum. It made sense, her interest in his query. Her belly-focused activities with Martin were some of the few times he saw her show her actual feelings—a rarity for the standoffish cat.

Missy looked at him, interrupting his thoughts.

“There are more…stakes when I’m the one overeating. I think that’s what makes it so thrilling to me? I could get sick, or get a bellyache, or indigestion, whatever. Trying to stay on the balance of discomfort and pleasure is really exciting. Also, I don’t know, your body pushing back against what you’re doing to it? Like, your body will stretch basically however you want. To get this gut-“ she patted her stomach “-anywhere near the size of yours, I have to force it to go against what my body is telling it. My instincts are telling me, ‘that’s enough,’ but I’m disobeying them and gorging myself even further. That disobedience is reallllly fun.” Missy grinned, showing her sharp canines. Martin felt a little thrill run through him.

“It feels really heavy too. You can’t swallow liquid or anything, cause you’ll get moldy, but especially with liquid there’s a density that makes the sensation of being full extra strong. You’re just so…weighed down by your own gluttony. Plus it’s really bubbly and gurgley when I chug something carbonated. Sometimes I can sort of feel the bubbles moving around, and I know you like listening to them. Not to mention the feeling of cool liquid hitting your stomach, especially if you’ve been eating something warm. That’s a little shocking of a sensation and, I don’t know how, but it always makes me feel so much more stuffed than before.”

Missy’s cheeks were tinging pink, Martin noticed. It might be possible that she liked this…hobby? Interest? of his more than he had expected.

“Also, when my paws, or your paws are pressing against my belly, there’s so much more resistance than there is with the stuffing you use.” Missy squirmed a little in her seat. She demonstrated by poking her abdomen, pressing on about an inch with some effort. “Especially if I’m really packed full, especially if you helped me keep going and keep eating way after I was satisfied, my belly gets pretty hard. I guess you’ve probably noticed; you’ve touched me a lot. But pushing into my full belly isn’t like squishing yours. Although that’s really fun too. You’re pretty much always soft, but my belly is so…substantial, so solidly packed and attached to my body, like I’ve made it that way, I put so much inside of me that it hurts, I disregarded my internal messages to stop and therefore put myself in a position that’s sort of taboo in a way. It’s so good, Martin. It feels so good.” Missy’s pupils were dilated as she studied him, and Martin suddenly felt as examined as the initial question had been.

“I wonder…” Missy trailed off, obviously thinking hard. “I have an idea! Martin, wait here.”

She hopped up from the couch and went into another room, leaving a confusedly almost-aroused Martin. After a few minutes and some rummaging noises, she came back with a belt and a corset. She dumped these on his lap and ran off again, returning with a huge bag of rice.

“So. Martin.” Martin felt a tingling sensation when she said his name like that. Like he had something coming for him. Something good, but knowing Missy, something really intense.

“I’m gonna put this belt and corset on you, so you can feel the tightness, and then I’m going to fill you to bursting with rice. I always feel so heavy after eating rice, so I think you’ll really get a sense of how it feels to be a little helplessly full.” Missy’s eyes had a mischievous but genuine glint, and Martin couldn’t resist his curiosity.

“Okay.” He said, grabbing her paw and putting it on his belly. She flushed under her fur. “Fill me up.”

[envihellbender]

CLAUD SEQUEL

Rating: Mature (Kink)

Characters: Zachary Redvers, Horatio Ewart, Claud Ewart

Content: kidnapping, extreme weight gain

—

Zach could not think of a single word to say as Horatio’s hand still gripped his wrist and he stared upon the master of the house. Claud’s expressions were not remotely readable, his lips were so plump and bloated they could’ve been smirking or frowning. However the way he rubbed his gut seemed arrogant, and the way his blue eyes narrowed causing them to be almost completely hidden in fat felt as if Zach as being scrutinised. Somehow, nothing about Claud’s entire body was stagnant despite his sedentary lifestyle. With every moment his body rippled and caused the floorboards to protest. He was also completely naked, something which caused Zach’s cheeks to burn a deep red, shame at seeing a stranger so bare filling him. Normally it would make the indecent one seem vulnerable, but somehow Claud’s obscenity somehow made him seem more terrifying and dominating. It almost felt like a display from the animal kingdom rather than upstairs in a small one up two down terrace house in Portobello. Zach tried not to think about how he couldn’t smell the salt water of the coast or hear the sea gulls in this room. The stench of sweat, waste, and food was so overwhelming, as was the ambience of Claud’s grunting, releasing of wind, squelching, and the way the house strained and complained around his existence.

“Mm. My boy, who is this runt you’ve brought to me?” Claud wheezed, he didn’t look at Horatio but it was clear he was speaking to him. Zach felt as if he was drowning in heated water, the sweat and temperature of the room smothering him alongside the terror Claud struck in his heart.

“I told you, Father,” Horatio answered, his voice shaky and not looking in Zach’s direction. “He moved in to Auntie Sadie’s Boarding House next door. He wanted to get to know the area.”

“You know I don’t care for strangers in my house, little one. You there. Stranger. Who are you? What do you do?” Claud’s voice was as heavy and thick as his thighs, and it caused Zach to have a cold fear run through his insides similar to that of being a child being scolded by his own father.

“I- I am- Zachary Terrance, Sir,” he lied. “I came here in hope of working in the docks as- as a fisherman.” At his slight stammer caused Claud to let out a low hum. A slovenly, slug like noice from his cracked, stained lips - which he lapped at almost hungrily. There was a leer to his gaze, making his assumptions very clear.

“Aha, the docks, of course,” Claud wheezed, Zach managed to discern his smirk based on how his face contorted, his sagged cheeks looked like gigantic half deflated balloons and they had managed to be lifted somewhat, hiding his eyes once more. “I hope you’ve not been spending too much on the boy, lad. You know you’ve got to save a great deal for my upkeep.” The way Horatio’s cheeks burned at this told Zach Claud wasn’t just talking about how many shillings Horatio had for the weekly shop.

“I- I think you’ve got the wrong-” Horatio stopped and furrowed his brow, he was in deep thought for a moment and flashed a look at Zach. He decided to keep his mouth shut. “Right. Yes. I will, father.”

“In the mean time, send our new friend home, will you?” Claud commanded, his voice a grunt as his expansive stomach began to groan and cry out for nourishment. “I require my feed. And bathing afterwards, my boy.”

“Of course, father.” Horatio nodded as he scurried towards the door, Zach was right behind him but before he left he felt a putrid smell cover him, the main sign that Claud had opened his mouth to speak.

“And of course it was nice to meet you, neighbour,” he sneered, his tone was heavy with lust and depravity, something Zach was not used to experiencing.

“You too, Sir,” was all he could say in response. When the door shut behind them they were silent, they were both terrified as they walked down the stairs and it wasn’t until they reached the front door that Horatio spoke.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in all this. Oh god, it’s going to be horrific I can’t believe this,” he rambled, his voice a panicked whisper. Zach waited patiently for him to stop before reaching out and giving Horatio’s shoulder a friendly, reassuring squeeze.

“Do not apologise, this is perfect. I have a fantastic disguise all decided purely by the murderer. Horatio. We are going to get him, and we are going to save you.” The shine in Zach’s eyes and delight in his voice caused Horatio to stare nonplussed for a moment, unsure of how this could possibly be a good thing.

“But… but he’ll want to … He will want to … make use of your services. Or the services he thinks you have on offer.” Horatio looked as if he might weep, Zach felt touched - and saddened that such a warm, gentle young man was being punished with this.

“Horatio. I promise I am going to get you and I out of here unscathed. You have my word. And now I must be off before the man gets suspicious. If you wish to find me…” Zach rummaged through his waistcoat pocket as he spoke before pulling out a small card and handing it over. “Here is the address of my agency. I can be reached there at all hours.” He slipped his coat back on his shoulders as he all but ran out of the front door. “I’ll be in touch.”

[jawwtin]

Giving Feederism a "Try", by girlyhornywriter

Your boyfriend encourages you to indulge in his fantasies, and indulge your own appetite a little more. You're a little apprehensive, but, hey, why not? Where could it possibly end up leading to...? 🐖😈

Another one of those pieces where I immediately want to reach for my phone to record. @girlyhornywriter is an exceptional writer and you should all check out their work! (Also I have a new phone, so my mic is sounding significantly better, even after having to reduce this file to satisfy tumblr's size limits)

[feeder86]

Gluttons

It was strange how you could go ten years without seeing someone and yet suddenly remember everything about them the moment you came across them again.

Oliver had never understood the alarm system at the house he and his boyfriend had bought a couple of years ago. However, since it had been setting itself off whilst he had been at work, he knew it was time to get someone in to see it. He’d called a company, not knowing that his old high school buddy, Tom, worked for them. That was, until the guy showed up at his door that Thursday afternoon.

Back in the day, Oliver had mixed with quite a diverse crowd in high school. He’d never been one to shoehorn himself into a stereotypical group and had amassed friends across the entire spectrum of high school life. Tom had been on one of those extreme ends of the scale: a typically gorgeous, athletic jock who didn’t have much time for many people outside of the usual jock circle. However, Oliver had always found him relatively easy to chat to and even remembered them getting dared to kiss each other during an alcohol infused round of ‘spin the bottle’ at one of their friend’s parties. Unlike many of the other jocks, Tom seemed more comfortable in his own skin, not caring that Oliver was gay, despite only having an eye for the most athletic girls in the school. It was fair to say that Oliver only had good memories of the guy.

“Oliver!” Tom smiled in recognition as he stood on the doorway carrying his bag of tools. “I didn’t know you lived here!”

The man stepped over the threshold, placing his bag down and reached in for a hug that almost seemed out of place after such a long period of estrangement. The scent of him seemed so familiar. He was still so handsome and good-looking, but what was that Oliver could feel as their torsos bounced against each other? He looked down the moment they stepped apart again, noticing that Tom had developed the cutest, tight and firm-looking paunch on him. It stuck out under his toned chest, stretching the material of the cheap work shirt, looking incredibly out of place on the guy who had once been so fit and active.

“Long time, no see,” Oliver smiled back, trying not to stare at the unusual shape of his old high school buddy. The pair spent a few minutes reminiscing, with Oliver explaining how he and his ex, James, had come to buy the house and lived there together up until three months ago, when the guy had cheated on him and abruptly moved out. 

“I just remember that crazy old cat guy used to live here when we were in high school,” Tom laughed. “I never imagined it would be as nice as this inside.”

“Oh, it definitely wasn’t like this when we bought it,” Oliver laughed. “We pretty much had to start from scratch when we bought the place.”

Tom smiled at him, seeming to admire his achievement. It was the way he had always been, never jealous or competitive; just genuinely happy for others when things were going well; even if people beat him in a tennis match or smashed his high school athletics records. 

As Tom settled to work at the alarm box, Oliver couldn’t help staring at his old friend’s new shape once more. From behind, it was obvious that the tight little paunch on him had pushed around to his sides, providing him with the sweetest little love handles, further emphasised by how ridiculously tight his shirt was around his middle. There was an added thickness to his butt too; his old, slim glutes replaced with more bulbous, stronger-looking butt cheeks. After three months of being angry at the world and swearing off men, Oliver suddenly found himself swooning. He’d always loved guys on the larger side and Tom appeared to be the most perfect dad-bod specimen Oliver had ever seen. As the guy bent down to collect some wires from his bag, an expanse of skin on his lower back came suddenly into view, alongside a sweet shot of his delicious-looking butt crack that his stretched and undersized underwear failed to cover. There was no doubt about it, Oliver was finally getting over his break-up.

“Would you like some cake?” Oliver offered, pulling out the leftovers from the birthday party he had thrown for his mother the day before.

Two greedy little eyes looked upon the cake and the man swallowed a sudden build up of saliva. “Sure,” he nodded eagerly, sipping on his fresh coffee and feeling a lot more spoiled than when he called at most folks’ houses.

Oliver could feel his erection flexing as he pulled out the knife to start cutting the slice. Tom had always been so fit and lean, yet now Oliver was serving him cake whilst enjoying the round, bloated shape of his stomach. He went to dish out the portion when a wicked, kinky part of his brain began whispering to him: ‘More! More! Cut him a bigger slice!’ 

As Oliver listened to it, he felt even more blood pumping into his groin. The slice he had cut was ridiculously massive. He almost felt embarrassed as he served it up. Yet Tom didn’t seem in the slightest bit put off by it. He simply stood to the side, resting the arm holding the plate against his tight, rounded stomach, feeding himself with the fork. The sight was almost mesmerising.

“Can I get you some more?” Oliver asked cheekily, seeing that the plate was cleared remarkably quickly. “It’s fresh cream. I’ll probably end up having to throw it out tomorrow,” he lied.

“Well… okay then,” Tom nodded, seeming to know that he was overindulging. This time, Oliver didn’t bother cutting a slice. The remaining cake was only marginally larger than the slice he had served up last time. He simply slapped the entirety of it onto the plate, thanking Tom for freeing up some space in his refrigerator.

“It’s been really great to see you again,” Tom smiled later on as he gathered up his things and headed to the door.

“You too!” Oliver nodded back, having enjoyed the last half an hour immensely. He felt reinvigorated and irredeemably aroused, as if the time had been the best possible therapy to get him over the sadness of his break-up.

“Perhaps you might let me take you out to dinner sometime?” Tom asked next, suddenly a little shy.

“Dinner?” Oliver shot back in complete and utter shock. “As in… a date?”

“Sure. Why not?” Tom chuckled. “I always remember the two of us having a good vibe together back in high school. I’d like to see whether we still have it.”

Oliver was almost speechless. Sure, he’d been flirting the entire time, but he hadn’t expected any of it to land. Tom had never… Tom wasn’t into guys… What the hell was going on?

“You don’t want to,” Tom sighed, trying to interpret the stunned silence.

“No!” Oliver shot back. “Not ‘no’… I mean, yes. I mean…” he spluttered, grumbling at his sudden inability to communicate effectively. “Okay,” he nodded, trying not to laugh at his own good fortune. “But why don’t you come over here instead of going out? I can cook us a meal.”

Tom smiled brightly. “I’d love that. Tomorrow night?” he asked.

Oliver reflected the smile as he nodded. There really was no time to waste.

At the supermarket the next day, Oliver felt the same sense of arousal he had experienced when serving the cake. There were so many things a relatively overweight, former jock should never eat, suddenly getting thrown into his shopping cart: beers, potato chips, pastries and sodas. Something inside of Oliver was captivated by seeing how much Tom had let his eating habits slide and he endeavoured to create the most decadent dining experience for his date that he possibly could.

When Tom arrived, he looked smart enough in his pants and polished shoes. But just like any guy who wasn’t paying enough attention to his expanding waistline, his shirt was once again tight around his stomach. Even standing up, the buttons looked slightly strained, positively gaping once he sat down and started to eat alongside Oliver.

“You’ve got a great appetite!” Oliver couldn’t help marvelling as Tom reached out for a second helping of the dessert. He got up, spooning out another scoop of ice cream for the man as well, pretending that he was merely pleased that Tom had enjoyed his cooking so much. The guy hadn’t stopped complimenting his food all evening.

“I’ve always enjoyed my food,” Tom nodded back, already starting to spoon it all into his greedy little mouth. “I always used to get away with it when I was younger. But once I hit my mid-twenties, it all started to stick to me a lot more,” he explained, giving his rounded stomach a pat, showing, for the first time, that he was actually aware of it. “I reckon it’s probably the reason I’m still single.”

The shape of that gut was completely mesmerising to Oliver, yet he pushed his urge to stare and marvel at it to the side. It wasn’t normal to be so fixated on a guy’s belly; a feature that most people would find to be Tom’s least attractive attribute. “The last thing I heard about you was that you were engaged to Molly Simpson from the year below us,” Oliver enquired interestedly.

“Oh, yeah…” Tom mumbled back, trying to eat at the same time. “That was a couple of years ago now.” He shook his head, as if something still frustrated him. “I just don’t get it,” he grumbled. “What do people expect guys like me to look like these days? I’m nearly thirty after all.”

It was obvious that his increasing weight had put an end to Tom’s engagement. But the way that Tom seemed genuinely annoyed by it all seemed to suggest that he placed no blame on himself, or his overeating, whatsoever. The volume of food he had devoured was more than extreme that evening, yet the guy seemed to believe his expanding waistline was just a normal part of ageing?

“You remember Steve, my older brother?” Tom asked, still feeding himself. “He’s the same. Only he goes to the gym to try and keep his weight down. But,,, It’s not like I have the time for that, do I?” he shrugged.

Oliver nodded sympathetically. However, there was an excitement inside of him that he felt almost impossible to contain. Tom’s genuine greed had captivated him all evening, yet the multiple excuses and denial about his own part in his increasing weight was adding fuel to that fire; supplying another strange level of arousal to the whole proceedings. “Well, I’m just grateful to have someone who actually enjoys my cooking,” he threw back, resisting the temptation to make a disparaging remark about how his ex had never appreciated all the effort he put into their meals. “So is this why you asked me on a date? You think the girls don’t want you anymore?” he teased, adding another small scoop of ice cream into Tom’s bowl at the guy’s request.

“I told you I was bisexual years ago!” Tom shot back.

“No you didn’t,” Oliver laughed. 

“I definitely did!” Tom countered. “The night we played spin the bottle at Andy’s party. The night we kissed,” he chuckled. “You do remember that, right?” he asked, getting concerned.

“I remember us being dared to kiss,” Oliver nodded. “But I don’t remember anything else. I was pretty wasted. Did you really come out as bisexual to me that night?”

A small smile twitched from the corners of Tom’s mouth. “So that’s why you didn’t ever pick up on my flirting then,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“You were actually into me back then?” Oliver asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course I was,” Tom nodded. “You’re gorgeous!”

The pair held a sickly, besotted look for a moment, before they both got up to move over to Oliver’s lounge space. Tom sat down first. He’d always carried a sense of presence about him, but with his imposing height and added mass, he seemed to fill the area with a deeply arousing, masculine air; his straining shirt gaping once more, bloating from all the food he had devoured; yet Tom appeared completely oblivious to it, with eyes only on Oliver. They talked for a short while about the people they knew from their school days; both of them realising that there were surprisingly few either of them were still in regular contact with. They’d both moved on, lived lives and experienced things that had altered them more than their eighteen-year-old selves could have contemplated. They were so familiar to each other, and yet excitingly new.

Oliver nestled himself under Tom’s arm and rested against his side; a gentle hand draped over the boy’s stout little tummy as they moved in for a sweet kiss. The smell of his body was arousing Oliver more than he thought possible; the gentle sweat and manly musk of a guy who had overindulged in stifling clothes, more than a little too tight for his fattened body. The kiss was good and followed swiftly by another, more passionate and almost frantic, as if their simmering attraction to each other had finally passed the point of no return. It wasn’t as if they were strangers just getting to know each other, and it was obvious what they both wanted.

Oliver’s hands wanted to explore more and more; to rip off Tom’s clothes and see it all. Thankfully, it was Tom who was leading the charge. Perhaps, just like Oliver, this was the first bit of action he had had in months. As such, the kissing progressed quickly, with hands sliding down into crotches and rubbing with gentle moans of encouragement. Tom grunted and unbuckled his pants, sliding them down to let his buoyant erection spring out. Oliver followed his cue, with the pair mutually stroking the other as they kissed; their breathing getting heavier and heavier. 

Finally, Oliver could wait no more. He wanted to see under Tom’s shirt. He wriggled his dropped pants clean off, then raised his own shirt off his slender, gently toned body. Immediately, Tom’s eager hands explored his torso, smiling with eager appreciation. Now was Oliver’s moment. Naked, he stood and smiled wickedly and he pulled Tom’s pants further down and threw them across the room. He sat himself on Tom’s lap, finally taking his hands to the top button of the guy’s shirt, unpicking them all, one by one, making his way down. At last, he spread the material apart, revealing the rounded, most handsome potbelly Oliver had ever seen in his life. The chest was strong and a little hairy. Only the very gentle softness of the nipples gave away the obvious forty pounds Tom had gained since Oliver had seen him last. However, the extreme, solid and heavy ball-shaped stomach was more than he had ever wished for. Here was a man who not only enjoyed his food, but had clearly packed it into himself with relish, growing such a firm, well shaped, spherical mass. It was all Oliver could do not to lament at how insanely arousing he found the sight of it. Instead, he kissed the guy more and more, leading him upstairs to finish the job.

Oliver’s friends were always going to be sceptical when he started a new relationship. They’d witnessed how heartbroken he had been after his split with James, glancing at each other with concern as Oliver had lamented about seeing an old high school crush.

“He’s staying over again tonight?” Mandy had asked. “Doesn’t he have his own place?”

Oliver had steered the conversation carefully, sensing their worries. These friends had only ever known him as the driven, assertive version of his twenties; mistaking that now for a reckless, foolhardy fall into a rebound relationship. In contrast, Tom seemed to know him so much more; that unrefined incarnation of his teenage years and the way it had evolved now into someone the man appeared to have fallen for just as much as Oliver had in return.

“Trust me,” Oliver had smiled at them all. “You’ll understand when you meet him.”

However, when the friends did meet Tom, Oliver soon realised how much of a serious misstep he had taken in laying the groundwork. He’d talked too much about how they’d known each other in high school and how popular Tom had been with the girls because of his athleticism. So when he arrived with a thicker, slightly pot-bellied physique, he should have been less surprised when their eyes kept flying back to Tom’s swollen middle. Of course they would be surprised. Oliver’s ex, James, had been obsessed with the gym, whereas it was obvious that Tom was not. Like a typical guy who had packed on a few pounds, Tom was continuing to wear his medium t-shirts that clung unflatteringly against the expanded waistline, emphasising it even more. It also didn’t help that Tom had arrived, feeling pretty hungry. He ordered more than everyone else and even reached across to grab the things people had left on their plates when they were too polite to refuse him.

If Oliver was honest, he felt a strange sense of embarrassment at Tom’s overeating and attire. His new boyfriend’s greed and appearance did not match in the slightest with the men his friends were used to him dating. Upon meeting Tom, they were quickly realising that Oliver’s taste in men wasn’t always quite so mainstream. On the other hand, however, it was incredibly thrilling to show off the kind of man Oliver found genuinely so appealing: overfed, under-exercised and swollen. As Tom ate, Oliver’s hardness built, realising that were Tom to continue on this path, this was probably the slimmest his friends would ever see his new lover.

In truth, Oliver knew that he was significantly overfeeding Tom whenever he came over. It almost felt like something he could barely control as he stocked his refrigerator and cupboards with all the decadent favorites he knew Tom wouldn’t be able to resist. Meanwhile, Tom relaxed into it completely, resting back into the couch as he sipped on his beers and allowed his new lover to spoil him. It was obvious how much he enjoyed it all, lamenting more than once how great it was to be dating someone who didn’t constantly nag him about his eating, as it appeared his previous girlfriends had all done. In Tom’s mind, this made dating guys so much easier.

The effects were instantaneous. When they first started sleeping together, Oliver could squint his eyes and still see the toned, athletic butt that Tom had had back at the end of high school, even with his slightly oversized glutes. Now, however, the tops of Tom’s thighs had started softening and the butt cheeks had pushed outwards, developing significantly more width to them through a lack of exercise. Tom’s ass had become that of a fat man, rather than a simple ex-jock, meaning that Oliver was able to finish with remarkable speed whenever they practised being versatile in the bedroom. But as Oliver thrusted and pounded, he wasn’t simply enjoying the feel and shape of Tom’s chubby butt; in his mind, he was imagining the size it could grow to with more time and encouragement. After all, it was obvious that Tom’s rear was only ever going to grow bigger.

Unlike other people, there seemed to be a genuine disconnect between Tom and the appearance of his body. He didn’t seem to notice how badly his clothes were fitting, nor become irritated by how obviously uncomfortable certain items of clothing must have been for him; his tortured, stretched out and exhausted underwear sliding further down his butt crack. After a performance management review, Tom came back wearing larger work shirts that had been issued to him after his manager saw the disastrous fit of the old ones. Tom had shrugged it off without complaint, nor alarm over how much thicker he was becoming. He was the type of man who didn’t make issues where there needn’t to be any. His weight wasn’t impacting his work, nor his sex life, so it surely mustn’t be a problem.

Out of both excitement and neccessity, Oliver took the initiative and started to buy Tom some new items to wear, finding that the man was more than happy to accept the guidance. Having never had an interest in clothes, he’d assumed that, as a gay man, Oliver would be a lot more knowledgeable about how to dress him. The casual look was so sexy on him as well; the sweatshorts and sweatpants, the sleeveless t-shirts and elasticated waistbands. It was obvious how Tom’s gain had been able to take hold of him. The guy had adopted a lazy lifestyle that Oliver had enabled with ease. As Tom drove around from house to house in work, he’d been making casual calls at fast food places several times in a week, as was evident throughout his work vehicle. He’d avoided walking as much as he could, always ensuring he parked as close as possible to the store he was visiting. When he got home, he would collapse on the couch and not move. Indeed, a brief look in the glutton’s kitchen cupboards would tell anyone that he had the taste buds of a five year old; with sugary snacks and tasty treats filling them up entirely.

For the first time, Tom was starting to carry a little more weight in his face, with cheeks that had swollen slightly and the start of a small chin. His pecs had softened, with fat beginning to spread under his arms as his rounded gut inflated once more.  Oliver realised that in only three months of dating, he had probably witnessed Tom gaining a further thirty pounds of fat on his tall frame without a care in the world.

It was around that time when Oliver was taken to meet Tom’s family. Despite only knowing for a few days that their son had flipped to dating a guy for the first time, Tom was still remarkably affectionate with Oliver in front of them. His brother, Steve, and his wife, Rachel, had been invited along for dinner at the same time, really piling on the pressure for Oliver to impress. 

Oliver had an image in his head of how he expected Tom’s parents to look; after all, Tom had done every athletics club under the sun when he was growing up, and it wasn’t unreasonable for Oliver to anticipate that this was as a result of his upbringing. However, Oliver quickly realised that the picture he had of them in his head couldn’t have been more wrong. Tom’s mother was short, round and carried an enormous amount of weight on her giant rear. His father was an even more extreme example of obesity, clearly weighing no less than four hundred pounds on his tall and broad frame. Oliver wondered if this had been a recent thing for the pair of them, but as he gazed upon the family photos around the house, he realised that Tom and his brother, Steve, had always grown up with very large parents. 

Steve’s wife, Rachel, was someone Oliver remembered clearly as the former editor of the high school newspaper; an extremely bossy and studious girl from the year above and not someone Oliver had been particularly keen to get to know. Perhaps it was just the fact that she had seen so many of Tom’s love interests come and go over the many years she had been a part of the family, but she did not seem in the slightest bit as interested in Oliver as the rest of the friendly bunch. She picked at and chastised her husband for reaching for a second helping of dessert and she positively scowled at her mother-in-law when she brought out further snacks after dinner. Her reason for this was simple. Much like Tom, Steve had packed on quite a good amount of weight since his athletic high school days. He’d developed a stout little tummy and his face had that distinct puffiness to it that his younger self had not.

“The boys always overeat when they come here,” Rachel grumbled quietly to Oliver later on, as the pair were alone for the first time. “Walt and Sue have absolutely no idea about healthy diets or portion control,” she sighed, referring to Tom’s parents; clearly wound up and frustrated by having to be there.

“Well, they’re clearly good cooks,” Oliver smiled back, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Steve and I went through a rough patch a couple of years ago and he moved back here for two months,” she replied, still attempting to make her point. “Forty pounds!” she exclaimed. “That’s how much he gained from just being here with those two, eating the same things that they do. He’s still carrying around some of it now.”

“I see,” Oliver nodded, not really wanting to get involved in Rachel’s in-law grumblings.

“Give these boys an inch and they’d turn into the image of their father,” Rachel nodded, finally seeming to reach her point. “Tom’s weight has gone up and down in the last couple of years, but I’ve never seen him this big before. You’ll need to start putting your foot down with him, like I do with Steve.”

With impeccable timing, the pair watched as Tom reached out and fed himself a large doughnut as he finally finished drying the dishes with the others. Three large bites and it was gone, like it had been nothing more than air. It was plain to see that Rachel was absolutely right. Left to their own devices, both Tom and his brother were exactly the type of men who could stumble into quite extreme obesity. If only Rachel knew that Oliver had no intentions of ever preventing that.

Oliver had never dated a guy with so little inhibitions when it came to his body. Despite the fat little tummy he had developed, Tom seemed completely at ease lounging around Oliver’s house in nothing but his underwear; even answering the door to the take-out delivery guy with next to nothing on. Perhaps it stemmed from the days when Tom had been the ultimate fantasy for so many women; tall, broad and handsome. But with his gut pushing out in one direction and his chubby rear in another, the guy was getting further and further away from the sleek form that had once made women droll. His laziness was evident by how content he was to lay about all weekend, making multiple excuses whenever Oliver suggested going for a hike, or getting out for some exercise. Overfed, oversexed and under-exercised, Tom had reached a level of contentment in his new relationship that was only ever going to have one result.

It was easy to become blind to it all. Tom’s eating was indeed quite extreme. He could arrive at Oliver’s place with a tray of doughnuts and go to bed that night with not a single one left. Despite being well catered for, he ordered in food later in the evening and he slurped on beers and sodas like he’d spent a month in a dry desert. It was as if he was so comfortable and happy in his relationship with Oliver, he was taking the best vacation from caring about his diet at all.

However, as the months trickled by, it was clear that Tom’s eating was anything but temporary. Their first holiday season together had been an eye-opener as Oliver saw just how much Tom’s family indulged. Rachel had been a constant snarky killjoy the entire time, biting Steve’s head off anytime he went in for extra helpings in the same way Tom seemed to enjoy doing. It was obvious that neither Tom, nor his parents were all that keen on her, making it significantly easier for them to appreciate how laid back Oliver was instead. By simply not nagging or chastising Tom as his gut bloated up into an even more spherical shape, he’d become the firm favorire amongst even the extended family. It was something that Oliver didn’t mind too much. Rachel was abrasive and harsh. It was easy to feel sorry for Steve as they waved goodbye to them both after a meal at Tom’s parents; Rachel’s face set like stone because her husband had overeaten once more.

Moving in together had been the inevitable next step for Oliver and Tom. However, this process was sped up significantly by the fact that Tom’s landlord was wanting to sell. Although it had been less than eighteen months since Oliver had kicked out his last lover, there he was welcoming another into his home. He’d expected the usual teething problems as they learned to get along, living side by side. Yet the experience turned out to be nothing but pure pleasure. Not only was their sex life as rampant as ever, but Tom was considerate and funny, appreciating how lucky he was to have a guy who was not only willing to let him move in, but make the changes he wanted around the house: his significantly larger TV screen in the lounge, his ugly recliner chair in front of it; a beer dispenser by the refrigerator and a whole stack of games and console machines in what was the become Tom’s new man cave. Giving the guy his own space vital to making this work, Oliver reasoned. He’d had to set his own ground rules as well; chief amongst them that Tom tried his best not to sit down on some of the older pieces of furniture Oliver had inherited from his grandmother. Given the size of the man’s ball-like stomach these days, Oliver suspected that his lover had already surpassed three hundred pounds as the couch began grumbling under his weight.

In no time at all, Oliver’s home soon became a casual refuge for Steve as well. Being that Tom only lived a few blocks away from his brother now, the two guys were seeing a lot more of each other than they had in the ten years since Steve had first moved out of their parents’ place. With some amusement, Oliver would chuckle to himself as he saw Tom letting the guy in to watch the football on TV. Steve would always be dressed like he was heading to the gym and Oliver suspected that that was exactly where his wife had been told he was going. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, gorging on take out pizzas with his brother, whilst shouting at the screen.

Steve had always carried a stubborn, stout little paunch the whole time Oliver had been dating Tom. However, after only three months of skipping the gym to watch sports with Tom, the guy had packed on a considerable amount of additional weight, rounding him out further and bloating up his face in the same way that Tom’s had in the early days of dating Oliver. Judging by the amount of take-out boxes and emptied cans Oliver could come down to in the morning, it was obvious that Steve was every bit as much of a glutton as Tom was. The results of all those excess calories were staggeringly similar as well: the swelling ball of stomach, the widening of the rear. The more the boys ate, the hungrier they seemed to become.

Tom’s gut appeared to enter the room before he did and his hips had swollen outwards in a way that had completely altered his shape. There had always been at least a hint of the guy’s former athleticism in his physique: the strong chest, the biceps, the jawline. Yet all of that had now melted away, being replaced by a puffing fatness that had coated Tom’s entire body. As he slouched in his chair, the great mass of stomach fat arched out in front of him, expanding into his lap; his pecs long since succumbing to the build up of blubber. At what must have been 350lbs, Oliver could not get over how attracted he was to the man: the sheer enormity and size of him; the great appetite and joy he seemed to get from his eating, without caring in the slightest about how his body was changing.

Oliver had asked Tom to marry him whilst they were on vacation together in Las Vegas. Tom had gorged himself the entire time, going from restaurant to restaurant, and when they had won a sizable amount of cash on their penultimate evening there, it felt like everything had slotted into place as they headed off to the tackiest looking chapel they could find.

However, as one marriage began, it seemed as if another was ending. Steve and Rachel clearly weren’t getting along, meaning that the poor, hapless guy was soon spending more and more time in Oliver and Tom’s spare bedroom. Oliver tried not to pry but it seemed obvious to him what the main catalyst was for the couple’s troubles.

“Don’t you think you should go easy on the pizzas later when you’re watching the game with Steve?” Oliver tried to ask. “You know what Rachel is like about his weight and it’s clear that she’s not happy about how much weight he’s gained.”

Tom shrugged. Even he couldn't deny how much weight his brother had packed on in the last few months. After all, he had taken to wearing many items of clothing that Tom had outgrown himself: the sweatpants, the t-shirts, the sweaters. “What’s the point? We all know they’re not getting back together.”

Oliver sighed. Given how much of Steve’s stuff had been filling up the spare bedroom, he had come to a similar conclusion.

“And so what if they do get a divorce? Steve’s already starting to realise how much nicer life is without her.” He looked at Oliver, trying to get a sense of what he was thinking. “Unless… you’re frustrated at having him here?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “You know my parents would let him stay with them if it’s all a bit too much?”

Oliver shook his head. That wasn’t the case at all. Ever since Tom had quit his job for an admin role, working from home, he had worried that Tom’s weight would start to come down, now that he wasn’t roaming from fast food joint to fast food joint during his working day. But with Steve around, the pair fuelled each other’s enthusiasm for tasty treats, with an inevitable, incredibly arousing impact on both their bodies. In the last few weeks alone, Tom’s thighs had appeared to explode with additional size, stretching the capacity of even his most casual sweatpants.

Steve’s attitude seemed to change the moment he found out that Rachel had started to date one of his old friends. Rather than being angry and bitter, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could at last move on, rejecting the guilt he felt and enjoy his life.

“Steve’s out again?” Oliver chuckled as he came in late one evening. “Another date? Who is it this time?”

Tom nodded as he dipped his hand into a large bag of potato chips. “Some girl he met online,” he replied. “A new one.”

Oliver smiled, pleased that Steve was proving to be such a hit with the ladies, even with his larger stomach these days.

When Steve finally did bring a girl home, both Oliver and Tom quietly confessed to each other their surprise over how good looking she was: petite, slim and large chested, the woman could have had any man she wanted; yet she seemed physically incapable of keeping her hands off her new chubby boyfriend. As for Steve, he seemed blissfully happy and pleased with himself, knowing that he had struck gold. Gina seemed like the girl he had been waiting for his entire life.

“Your Tom’s a big boy, isn’t he?” Gina smiled, watching as Oliver’s husband and Steve retreated into the lounge after dinner.

“I guess so,” Oliver smiled as he tidied up the table, still undecided about the woman his brother-in-law was dating.

“You two must get a lot of looks when you go out together? You’re both so different!”

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So many folks didn’t understand how he could be so in love with a man almost two hundred pounds heavier than him; yet few lacked the tack to keep that curiosity to themselves. “I guess so,” he replied disinterestedly.

“My Steve has a pretty big tummy on him as well,” Gina blundered on, chuckling nervously.

“Well, I think my husband is partly to blame for that,” Oliver smiled back. “He’s been teaching him some pretty bad habits since Steve moved in here with us.”

Gina nodded enthusiastically back. “Yes, Steve’s been telling me! He split his pants at work the other day,” she chuckled.

“I’ve lost count of the amount of pants Tom’s destroyed over the years!” Oliver joked back.

“So, are the boys done eating for the night? Or do they usually snack now?”

Oliver looked at his watch and shook his head. “It’s only eight o’clock!” he replied as if Gina’s question had been utterly ridiculous. “Tom likes something to eat around ten or so. Usually it’s a pizza.”

“And does Steve join him?” Gina asked, almost excitedly.

“Of course,” Oliver nodded.

Gina turned, looking towards the lounge area, sighing with pleasure. “I think this living arrangement is going to work out very well for all of us!”

Oliver simply wiped down the kitchen counter as Gina skipped off to snuggle under Steve’s arm on the couch, not quite understanding exactly what the woman had meant.

A couple of weeks later, Oliver nudged his husband as Steve came down the stairs ready to head out for dinner with Gina. His eyes had bulged at the tight shirt the guy was wearing; his stout, rounded stomach already straining the buttons. 

“You can’t let him wear that!” Oliver whispered, panicking as he saw Steve grabbing his keys. “Tell him it’s too tight!”

Tom looked up from his heaped plate of cheese and savoury biscuits, balanced on top of the shelf of stomach fat he had accumulated. He saw the ridiculous shirt and smirked to himself. “Have a good evening, buddy!” he called out, letting the guy leave without a word of protest.

“How could you let him go out like that?” Oliver cried, utterly shocked by his husband’s lack of caring.

Tom merely laughed to himself. “You worry far too much about him. Trust me, Steve knows exactly what he’s doing!”

Oliver paused, never quite knowing how far to pry into the brothers’ relationship. They got along better than any other siblings he had ever known and were certainly a lot closer than Oliver had ever been with his especially aloof older sister. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Tom seemed to ponder how best to answer as he continued eating. “Well, Gina is quite forthcoming when it comes to her appreciation of the extra weight he’s been carrying lately. I imagine he’s going to get very lucky tonight when she sees him in that tight shirt!”

“Gina likes it?” Oliver asked, feeling a lot more surprised than he should reasonably have been, considering all the compliments he had heard the girl giving the chubby boy.

“Of course,” Tom nodded. “She wants him bigger.”

“She… what?” Oliver gasped. 

“Oh, come on!” Tom chuckled. “You can’t pretend you’re not exactly the same. It’s just like how you get off on my… what is it you say? My ‘big, manly appetite.’”

“That’s not quite the same thing,” Oliver mumbled, slightly embarrassed. 

“Well, Gina thinks it is,” Tom replied. “Her and Steve talk about it quite a lot. She thinks you enable me to gain weight because you enjoy it.”

Oliver blushed. He never lied to Tom, yet if he opened his mouth at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to help one from slipping out, denying everything. “And what do you think?” was all he asked.

“I just think I’m a greedy boy who eats far too much,” Tom smirked. “But I do think that might be part of the reason why you married me…”

Tom’s responses were light and jovial, relaxing Oliver as he came to terms with the fact he would have to own up to his kinkier side. “But, I don’t make you wear tight clothes that people will make fun of you for,” he replied, trying to shift the spotlight back onto Gina instead.

“No,” Tom nodded in agreement. “But you’re hardly stopping me from outgrowing everything, are you?”

Oliver merely stared at his husband for a few moments as he finished up the last of his pre-dinner snack; all those additional calories and fats he had prepared for his husband. He’d been outed as a chubby chaser. “So how big does Gina want Steve to get?” he asked.

Tom pressed his thumb into the plate, picking up all the leftover crumbs, before sucking them off. “They’ve had some very kinky conversations about just that,” the big man nodded. “She makes these special shakes for him, loaded with calories! Then she sucks him off whilst he downs it all for her.”

“And Steve is okay with that?” Oliver questioned, trying to hold back his surprise.

“Did you not hear the bit about the blow job?” Tom chuckled. “He’s a guy. Of course he loves it.”

Tom’s casual nature was making it harder for Oliver to unpick how the man really felt about all this. His brother had fallen into a feedist relationship and yet Tom seemed utterly delighted for him. “Are you saying that’s something you’d like us to try?” he finally asked.

“I’d drink one of those shakes for you, no problem,” Tom nodded enthusiastically. “Especially if it came with some benefits…You should get the recipe from Gina. I’m sure she’d happily share.”

“And you’d find that exciting?”

Tom scoffed, not prepared to let his husband hide behind the mask of his supposedly naive enabling anymore. “We’d both get off on that, and you know it!” he laughed. “Frankly, I’d love it if you were a little more vocal about enjoying my appetite; like Gina is with Steve.”

At that moment, a knock came at the door, just as Oliver was trying to take in the enormity of the casual comments his husband had just made. Dazed, he walked off to the entrance way and opened the door up to the visitors they had been expecting.

“Jeez!” exclaimed Dex, fresh from a year-long trip to New Zealand with his girlfriend, Marie. “We just saw Steve heading out as we pulled up,” he rambled, having met Oliver and Tom as a couple only once before heading off on their trip. “I can’t believe how much weight he’s…”

Tom waddled in from around the corner, ready to see one of the only friends he still kept from high school, simultaneously shutting Dex’s ramblings down in an instant as the guy saw just how enormous Tom had grown. His girlfriend’s eyes bulged too; the pair of them trying to contain their surprise.

“Hey… hey there, buddy!” Dex cried, walking over to Tom and giving him the briefest of hugs. His voice was unsure and it was obvious how uncomfortable he felt to have been caught commenting on Steve’s weight gain, given how much more extremely Tom had grown. That giant gut really was the only thing anyone ever saw.

Oliver looked at the pair, not really understanding why Tom still kept in touch with them. Dex was every bit the high school jock he had once been; Marie a moderately successful social media influencer. They’d travelled the world, worked in several different countries, declaring that they could never imagine anything worse than living an insignificant life back home in the small towns where they had grown up. It was exactly the sort of ego that Oliver had disliked about Dex back in high school. Meanwhile, Tom lived for his pizzas and take-outs. He worked from home and had little interest in anything that involved getting up off his couch. How many days had it been since Tom had even bothered to leave the house?

It was easy to become blind to Tom’s size ever since Oliver lived with him each day. But with Dex there, alongside his petite girlfriend, the contrast was clearer than ever. Since when had Tom’s face become so massive? Did regular folks like Dex and Marie really eat such small portions? It had been a little while since Tom had started sitting at the head of the table, instead of at the side by Oliver. However, as the four of them were sitting that evening, it was more than obvious that the seating position was purely to accommodate Tom’s giant size. Oliver had to lean over and plate Tom's meal up for him, catching Dex and Marie glancing with concern at each other at just how much food Oliver was naturally piling onto their friend’s plate.

The conversation quickly became dominated by uninteresting anecdotes from the high flying couple’s global adventures. Oliver could tell that Tom wasn’t really listening; neither of them were. Oliver simply kept a keen eye on Tom’s plate, spooning on more of the different items as they started to get low. It was second nature to him now. However, from the little, uneasy pauses Dex made each time Oliver did so, his disapproval was getting ever closer to the surface. But the more Dex and Marie rambled on, the less concerned Oliver felt about upsetting them. It seemed like their egos had inflated tenfold with a little social media success. They spoke as if they were the authority on several issues, with an arrogance inside them that they both seemed completely oblivious to. 

Oliver slopped more food onto Tom’s plate. His husband was eating well; most likely because there was no opportunity for him to join in the conversation. If he kept it up, Oliver wouldn’t have to plate up any leftovers later. All the serving bowls could go straight in the dishwasher. He knew he was overfacing Tom by emptying the last of the cream and cheese potato dish out for him, but it was worth a shot, given that Steve wasn’t there to help out, as well as the fact that Marie and Dex had avoided it; seeming to know how calorie laden it was.

Afterwards, Tom stretched out and rubbed his swollen stomach with a grunt whilst Oliver dutifully cleared the table around him. He’d made a giant, hearty dish of sticky toffee sponge, leaving it out in the middle of the table for Marie and Dex to serve themselves. Unused to waiting for guests to be served first, Oliver tried to hold back a small chuckle as he heard his gluttonous husband swallowing back saliva as he watched on. Finally, the serving spoon was in Oliver’s hand, carving out a humongous portion and pressing it down until it fitted inside their oversized bowls. He’d made additional toffee sauce, pouring that on for Tom as well, before placing it down in front of him. The weight of it was obvious by the hefty ‘thunk’ it made onto the placemat; something that did not go unnoticed by the guests.

If there was one thing Oliver never had to worry about, it was Tom’s sweet tooth. But rarely had Oliver been so blatant as to start refilling his husband’s bowl the moment he dropped the spoon. The goal was simple: no leftovers. Having Dex and Marie there to witness it was even quietly thrilling.

“So, do you have any more plans for the house?” Marie asked, finally seeming to notice that they had been talking about themselves for over an hour by that point. “Last time we saw you, you mentioned wanting to extend out the back.”

Oliver shook his head. In truth, he’d lost a lot of his enthusiasm for the house ever since he’d met Tom. Houses and renovations were not the large man’s thing in the slightest. All Tom really cared about was having somewhere to rest his head at night. “I don’t think so,” Oliver replied, reaching under the table to rest his hand on Tom’s knee. “In truth, I can’t see us staying here for too much longer.”

“Oh, really?” Marie smiled back. “Are you guys thinking of moving out of town?”

“No, nothing like that,” Oliver shot back, realising that he hadn’t even discussed any of this with Tom. “But this place is old and has already been knocked around a fair bit. The shower is getting a little too small for Tom and there’s no way of making it larger unless we knock down the wall into one of the guest bedrooms. It’s a lot of work.”

“Or…” Dex began, looking at them both like they were simple, “...you could just put him on a diet.”

Oliver was surprised at the slight glee he felt at making Dex bite. Tom was busily scraping his bowl clean, determined to get every last crumb; oblivious. “Oh, I think that ship has sailed, don’t you?” Oliver chuckled, exchanging his husband’s empty bowl for the entire bowl that remained in the middle of the table. He lifted the jug of extra toffee sauce, emptying it entirely, before passing Tom his spoon back and slipping his hand under the table once more to rub his husband’s knee. His silent meaning was clear: eat it all.

Steve’s disgust was evident on his face as he simply watched his old friend annihilating the entirety of the remaining dessert without a thought. All three spectators were observing the masterful glutton taking on the sugary feast without even noticing he was being watched; the conversation halted. Oliver could hardly believe how erotic he found it and he was thankful that he was wearing an oversized sweater that covered his crotch as he stood up to collect yet another fresh soda for his husband. He imagined how boring it would be to be lumbered with a fit guy like Dex. Oliver knew he’d have to fatten him up with his calorie dense food and quiet enabling, until he got what he wanted; exactly as he had done with Tom, and now his brother as well.

“Check out this pic I found of us from high school,” Dex insisted, fumbling with his phone. “I found it the other day,” he explained, filling the silence as he clicked and swiped his way to it. Finally, he turned it around for Oliver and Tom to see: two handsome, shirtless jocks with glistening six packs by the pool. “Look at the pair of us! Man, I miss those care-free days!” Dex chuckled fondly.

Oliver tried to suppress a chuckle. Dex’s true intentions hadn’t been clearer, reminding his old friend of how fit he used to be.

“I don’t!” Tom grunted in reply between large mouthfuls. “I never liked being on the swim team. In fact, I haven’t stepped foot in a swimming pool since I graduated.”

“Seriously?” Marie asked in surprise. “In over ten years?” Given how many poolside selfies there were of her, it was a wonder she didn’t have gills.

“Tom’s not big on exercise,” Oliver confirmed, shaking his head.

Realising the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Dex returned his cell phone to his pocket. “Dude, you’re starting to look like your dad,” he finally snapped as Tom began scraping the bowl for the last of the toffee sauce. 

Having cleared some plates, Oliver was just making his way back to the table as he said it, making him chuckle as he rubbed his husband’s large back proudly. “Actually, Tom can eat even more than his dad these days,” he smiled, as if this was an achievement to be proud of.

Tom, who seemed to be finally switching back onto the conversation now his food was all but gone, nodded in agreement.

Dex had clearly expected more negativity from his comment and he looked at Marie as if they were both thinking the same thing. He gazed down at his watch and Marie nodded subtly in agreement.

“Thanks for dinner,” Dex sighed, already getting up. “But we have to be up early tomorrow for our flight.”

Oliver beamed. He had thought he was stuck with the pair of them all evening. “Oh, we understand,” he nodded, hoping to sound disappointed. Then he looked down at a still seated Tom, waiting for him to echo his words of regret. However, Tom seemed far more concerned with the tightness of his stomach after downing such a large amount from his fresh soda. He rubbed at his stomach and looked almost like he might throw up, before a giant burp came rolling up from his throat. Sighing with relief, Tom grunted as he rose to his feet as well; his stomach so bloated that the underside of it was visible from the bottom of his t-shirt.

No one hugged in goodbye. Dex seemed disgusted and, at the same time, pitying towards his old friend. Tom raised his great arm and Oliver slid underneath, resting against the man’s bulk as the pair stood just outside the house and waved the pretty couple off. “Do you think we frightened them away?” Tom whispered as the car rumbled off the driveway. “You’ve never made me eat like that before,” he chuckled.

“It was more entertaining than listening to all their boring stories,” Oliver replied, trying not to move his mouth so much that the couple would have the chance to read his lips as they backed out onto the road. “Did you enjoy it, though?” he smirked, raising his hand for the final wave to Dex and Marie.

Tom didn’t reply. He simply trotted his way back into the house and embraced his husband in a giant kiss the moment the front door was closed behind them. Oliver was the one who pulled off Tom’s shirt, feeling a freedom now to enjoy the giant size of his glutton’s stomach that he hadn’t allowed himself before now.

“You like?” Tom asked, standing proudly and full of confidence, even pushing his fat tummy out a little more.

“I do!” Oliver nodded, slipping down onto his knees in order to kiss the giant mass. 

Tom grunted in approval, seizing the opportunity to lower his sweatpants and feed his stiff and buried hardness into Oliver’s mouth. He moaned loudly as Oliver settled to his work with such relish, rubbing his enormous stomach as if his own size was turning him on. As Oliver’s tongue worked him harder, Tom’s stomach rubbing only became more frantic and desperate, taking a hand to each side of it and bouncing it up and down.

“You’re never going to put me on a diet, are you?” Tom asked, his voice dripping with lust.

Oliver briefly pulled his mouth from Tom’s crotch to reply. “Never,” he teased back, noticing that Tom’s dick was even harder by the time he got it back between his lips. 

The next time Oliver came up for breath, he pulled Tom along towards the couch, letting the fat boy down on his back, legs splayed, as Oliver set back to pleasuring him. In this position, Tom seemed to be enjoying himself even more; moaning loudly and rubbing his giant gut like it was an enormous wrecking ball pinning him down. There was almost no effort required to make the man ejaculate.

Afterwards, Oliver looked on at his husband with a satisfaction that no orgasm could give him. Naked and well-catered for, Tom had fallen asleep in the same position he had landed in during the blow job; a giant, fat slug draped over the couch that constantly creaked under his weight. The fat under his chin had made his neck disappear in this position and a contented, calm expression filled his face as he dozed. This was the reason Oliver loved his size and greed so much; for only he could deliver this sort of bliss to a glutton like Tom: his perfect man.

Only eighteen months later, Tom stood, filling his plate full of items from the buffet table at his brother’s wedding. It had been a long day for the guy, being the Best Man, with plenty of time up on his feet for the photographs. Oliver watched on, admiring the sheer size of his husband’s rear from afar. There was something so cute that happened to those glutes once a man crossed five hundred pounds. They were so plush and soft, yet grotesquely oversized and extreme-looking, especially in the tight dress pants Tom had been made to wear that day. He wasn’t used to such restrictive clothes, and he wriggled and twitched in them the entire time, silently longing to get back into his sweatshorts which wouldn’t pinch him like these pants did.

There had come a point a few months back when Oliver and Tom had decided to take a step back from the deliberately fattening regime Tom had seemed to take himself on. To some extent, it had worked. Tom was no longer growing at the rate that he had been. However,  there was no denying the fact that the man was indeed still growing. Those unplanned pounds had made his body swell and soften in a way that none of the previous weight ever had before. His upper arms had ballooned with fat and his hips had widened so that he had broken more than a few chairs. It had been fat building upon already well established fat. Of course it was going to change his shape, thought Oliver, rolling his eyes as Tom finally began to have second thoughts once even his parents had shown some concern. But the weight was still finding him; still sliding onto his overfed physique and quietly arousing them both by the seemingly uncontrollable nature of it all.

Steve, and his new wife emerged onto the dance floor. It was almost pitiable to watch her dragging such a fat man out to dance with her. With such a hectic day, Steve had become dishevelled and a little sweaty; his large shirt untucking itself in all but a couple of places around his large circumference. His blossoming love handles an underbelly showing in just the same Tom’s had only one hundred pounds earlier. As for his new wife, she seemed to be loving every minute, showing off the giant, spherical man she could now call her own. Without much family to Gina’s name, the guest list seemed saturated with friends of hers with similarly bloated, overfed husbands; most likely undergoing the same transformation that Steve was under a feeder’s care. Oliver had seen them all looking across at him, nodding in approval at Tom’s size, as if they were all a part of the same strange and unspoken club.

“Are you not coming to watch?” Oliver asked his overstuffed husband, wiping his mouth after completing his monstrous mountain of buffet food.

Tom shook his head lazily, pretending to want to rest his feet.

Oliver smirked, spotting the vast quantities of pre-cut wedding cake sitting on the table not far away and knowing that Tom was secretly plotting a way to get more than his fair share whilst everyone was distracted. Indeed, if there was one thing Oliver could always rely upon, it was Tom’s sweet tooth.

“Okay, honey,” Oliver smiled, pretending not to have figured out his gluttonous husband’s real intentions. “You just rest here for a minute,” he smiled, turning his back so that Tom could quietly gorge himself, unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Given how well the man had been eating today, there’d certainly be fresh fat to explore on his body by tomorrow morning….

Life was sweet.

[allfattenedup]

Part of a wg story I found in my drafts:

· · ─────── · 🐷 · ─────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you ready for that?"

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

"But...?"

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

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

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

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

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

[envihellbender]

Gerry feeding Michael

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Gerry Keay, Michael Shelley

Content: feedee Michael, feeder Gerry, affectionate feedism

Summary: Gerry worries Michael isn’t eating enough.

When Gerry first met Michael he had been horrifically underfed, Gerry remembered sitting there in the Magnus Institute to make a statement directly to Michael. This man around his own age was far taller than him, but he was so thin Gerry could see two collarbones poking not behind his white shirt. He wasn’t entirely sure when he started ‘feeding’ Michael exactly, it was subtler than that. Their first dates weren’t in restaurants but they always seemed to end up eating. It wasn’t anything special, a Chinese takeaway with a film, an Italian restaurant not far from Michael’s flat, or something like that, but it always ended up happening. Gerry ate his share, his soft belly straining against his ripped jeans, but he always made sure that Michael was filled to the brim.

On good days Michael was so stuffed after the meal that he couldn’t even stand up, Gerry was more than happy to guide him, and tried to ignore the way his small cock began to grow against his jeans. It wasn’t because of the fact that Gerry couldn’t help but get excited watching Michael eat, he had to tell himself repeatedly. He wasn’t manipulating him or pusrhing him into something he didn’t want. Anyway, the important thing was, Gerry thought, that Michael had slowly gone from being sore, cold, permanently hungry, to a strange warmth and surrounding growing muscle and fat that protected his joints. Regardless of the enjoyment that was received from it, Michael’s diet was clearly improving greatly.

They didn’t really discuss the matter until Gerry started staying at Michael’s more permanently. Gerry supposed he moved in, it was more a case of he needed somewhere to stay and someone to keep him hidden from his mother. Michael was more than happy to help, and it wasn’t as if they didn’t both enjoy the mutual domesticity. That was when Gerry got a real insight to what Michael ate, Gerry noticed that Michael tended to skip breakfast, grabbing a drink from the coffee shop on the way. When Gerry asked, Michael said evasively said he grabbed whatever he could whenever he could. Gerry wasn’t satisfied with this. He didn’t intend to do anything behind Michael’s back, but if they were living together he might as well pull his weight. He began doing the food shopping, he ensured the cupboards were full - since Gerry was there even when Michael was on work trips there was no need to worry about the food going rotten. Gerry was extremely strict with sell by dates due to worry that the Corruption would work its way in.

Gerry began getting up earlier than usual, making breakfast for him and Michael. He noticed that when his appetite was peaked, Michael tended to eat quite a lot. At first Gerry made bowls of cereal for them both, then he added some toast, on a Friday he made pancakes. After a few weeks, Gerry made all three for one morning. Michael ate it all without even paying attention, and barely noticed when he slipped the lunch Gerry had made for him into the extremely roomy pocket of his duffle coat along with a handful of chocolate bars for the other pocket. When Michael got home there was a buffet spread out on the dining table so that he could graze and pick as he liked. Gerry found that he spent most of his life cooking but he liked nothing more than seeing Michael stuff his face whilst he would tell Gerry about his day. He sprayed crumbs everywhere, and swallowed in big mouthfuls which caused him to cough a little each time. By the end of the time he was slumped on the sofa before getting ready for bed, his gut poked out from underneath his shirt and he unbuttoned the fly of his trousers to let his belly pour out into his lap.

“Hey, can we talk?” Michael asked suddenly as Gerry began washing up. He didn’t like to sit still, so the moment they’d finished eating he jumped out of his seat and collecting the plates and cutlery. Michael was sat, his face a little chubbier than it had been that morning and his shirt was straining, becoming tight against his belly.

“Sure, what’s on your mind, babe?” Gerry asked, he glanced towards Michael, his throat grew dry as he saw how full and wheezing Michael was.

“Are you… so I don’t know if you have noticed but I’ve gained… some weight, recently?”

“Yeah? I guess so? Never thought about it.” Gerry was lying, obviously but he hoped it was noncommittal enough that his thoughts on the subject were not revealed yet.

“Yeah. I guess, you’ve been cooking for me… a lot more. I enjoy it, but maybe it’s too much? Maybe I’m eating too much?”

“I mean, do you want to diet or-”

“No! No, I don’t. I love-I love the meals you make and I like gaining but-”

“Gaining? Like, as in…”

“The kink,” Michael interrupted, a sly little smile filling his face. “Yeah. Okay, i- you know when you were feeding me the cheesecake? I could feel you getting hard.”

“This isn’t- I wasn’t secretly feeding you up or getting of on-” Gerry started, his voice growing quick and harried.

“No no no, that’s not what I mean,” Michael interrupted. “I… Like it. Didn’t think I would, but I love having you fuss over me. Cook for me. Feed me. My body feeling too powerful for my clothes. Giving my dysphoria the finger by making my body look more genderless by- no. I was just wondering if… Maybe we should dedicate ourself to it more?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you to keep feeding me. Permanently.”

“Seriously?” Gerry dried his hands on a tea towel before he pulled out a chair to sit next to Michael. “You really okay with this?”

“I don’t feel the need to avoid my reflection anymore,” Michael smiled as one hand began rubbing the bare skin of his gut.

[hungry-and-hornyyyyy]

Fatter and fatter and fatter

[emptyheadedhousecow]

still fat

900 words · 5 min read · emptyheadedhousecow.tumblr.com · November 2024

The funnel is empty. The blanket is dotted with crumbs. The pizza boxes are on the floor — there's a grease stain on the bedsheet where it had been carelessly placed half an hour ago, but that's a job for tomorrow. The box of aftercare chocolates is open and the best ones are already gone. It was hot, but the libido is gone now, and appetites are more than sated. Your feeder is curled up beside you, half-asleep already, small beside you, eclipsed by your mass. The pain has been kissed and rubbed away, but you're still swollen and stuffed, and most importantly, you're still fat.

They woke up before you. The pizza boxes are gone, and the funnel too; through the walls you hear the dishwasher churning, something sizzling on a stovetop, and fresh coffee being ground. There's a hunger brewing inside you already, but the stretchmarks on your sides are itching again, and the moisturiser is just out of reach. They'd jump at the chance to help, but it's not sexy right now, you just want the discomfort gone. You shift and roll, and build momentum, and grab the bottle, and then come crashing back down on the mattress in a breathless heap, your fat splayed out in exactly the same way it was before. You breathe, and recover, and you have to remind yourself, like every other morning, that your body has grown into something made of carbs and lard, even though everything else is back to normal, you're still fat.

Your day would be easy for anyone else, but everything is an ordeal for you. It seems like every time you shower you discover a new fold that needs to be cleaned and powdered. You need to catch your breath while washing your hair. You could wear clothes, if you wanted, but it's so much easier not to try, and you're increasingly unsure just how long it's been since you wore anything at all. Your feeder brings you all the food you could want, four meals a day or five if you're lucky... and you're grateful, of course you are, but not every meal is sex. You eat because you're hungry — a deep hunger that's only satisfied when you're pushed to breaking point — and you eat to shush, if only for a little while, that tiny voice inside you that's always demanding more more more. You knew this would happen; that every time you push yourself, your appetite grows a little... and you've pushed yourself a lot. You don't always eat because you want to, you eat because you HAVE to, because that's what a body as fat as yours craves, and day after day, you're still fat.

And then the funnel's back in play, and another order is lined up on the pizza app. Can you down the pitcher of cream before the pizzas arrives, and then the pizzas too? It's always an offer, never coerced. It was such a struggle last time, you only barely made it, but that only means it'll be easier now. And the tiny voice inside you can't be silenced, and the deep hunger is so very demanding, and it does drive you wild to see them this excited. You agree. You know you won't be able to stop yourself from pushing yourself to your limit, again, and you know that if you manage it, next time there might be another pizza on top, and that's far beyond what any normal person could eat, and as exciting as that is, you can't help but worry a little. But the preparations are underway, and your feeder's in the kitchen already, and all you need to do is eat, which you're amazing at, so this is just the best option, right? After all, you've done this a hundred times, what's one more? Tonight won't change anything, not really — either way, you're still fat.

The next day is always the same as the day before. Your feeder is dressed in a tenth of the time it takes you to shuffle to the edge of the bed and you're exhausted already. A kiss and a smile and you're helped to your feet, but you're not steady, and your balance is always unfamiliar, and it wasn't so long ago that it wouldn't even have occurred to you that you might need help getting up, and yet here it is, a development as casual as a second portion of breakfast. It ought to worry you but you are so very hungry, and the little voice is louder than your own thoughts these days, even though the pressure from last night's feast remains. Food is brought directly to the bedroom, once a rare treat but now the norm simply because it's getting harder to walk to the kitchen, even assisted. Getting dressed isn't an option anymore, for sure there's no clothes that still fit you, and that means no going outside, even in the car. Not that you've been outside in a long time. Perhaps you begin to slowly realise, if you hadn't been in denial about it already, that your last opportunity to lose the weight has quietly disappeared, who knows how long ago, and you never even noticed. But that doesn't seem nearly as important as finishing the plate of food that's in front of you. Maybe you'll get a chance to think about that later, maybe not — it feels like a very permanent fact of your life that you're still fat, forever.

[jawwtin]

Piggy

Despite what you might say, you enjpy this word more than you think, don't you? You certainly enjoy the lifestyle that such a word implies, so why not give in some more? 🐖>;))

A new feedee encouragement audio, based on this story from a sadly deactivated account:

[feeder86]

Roy's Boy

“Don’t even go there,” warned Roy as he saw Scotty checking out the most handsome guy he had ever seen coming into the bar.

“Who is he?” Scotty marvelled, turning to his much older boss. Tall, muscular and with the face of a supermodel, the guy who had just come in wasn’t in the same league as anyone else there that night.

“He’s bad news,” Roy stated, between grabbing drinks from the refrigerators behind him. “Not the type you want to get messed up with.”

Scotty served his own customers, continuing to glance over their shoulders as the outstandingly beautiful guy began perusing the crowds there that night as if they were pieces of meat.

“Jed’s a bratty jerk who thinks he rules this town just because mommy and daddy own the timber plant,” Roy went on to explain. “I’ve had more than a few run-ins with him, lording about in here like he owns the place. It’s a wonder he can get his head through the door,” he sighed, keeping an eye on the guy as he strutted about.

“His family actually owns the timber plant?” Scotty replied, impressed.

Roy sighed, seeing that his new, young bartender wasn’t getting the message he’d intended. “Just trust me on this one. Jed’s not a nice guy. You wouldn’t believe some of the stories I’ve heard about how he gets his kicks.”

Scotty couldn’t help but feel even more intrigued. As nice as Roy was, taking a fatherly interest in him when he took this job at the gay bar two weeks ago, he’d never encouraged Scotty to date anyone who came in. Being only nineteen and recently out to his hostile parents, Scotty had never come across the bad-boy type; Jed had piqued his interest like no-one else ever had. The guy had the air of a brute who would happily take the lead in the bedroom and make any lover submit to him. Just the thought of being mercilessly dominated by him was making Scotty glad that his crotch was hidden behind the bar most of the time.

“Who’s the fresh meat?” Jed asked as he came up a few minutes later, spotting that Scotty was a new employee; his voice deep and powerful, much like his staggeringly built body.

Roy had stepped in front of Scotty the moment he saw Jed approach. “Off limits!” he stated assertively. “What drink do you want?”

Jed smirked, eyeing Scotty with more interest now that Roy was standing in his way. “He’s cute,” he nodded appraisingly. “Tight ass, pretty face. Was that on the job advert?” he asked cheekily.

“Off limits!” Roy repeated, now with a hint of aggression. He pulled the lid off a bottle of beer and pushed it towards the arrogant jock. “No charge,” he growled, just wanting Jed to get back to the dancefloor and away from the bar. The bribe seemed to be a language that Jed understood best, tipping his head at the free beer and smirking at Scotty as he retreated back, somewhat satisfied with his result.

Scotty couldn’t help continuing to check Jed out whenever he looked up. He saw the guy sitting in a chair to the side of the dancefloor, his legs spread wide open, displaying his long and muscular thighs and ensuring that every single person who gazed upon him imagined themselves sucking him off; Scotty most of all. He could feel an arousal inside of him that was unlike any sort of attraction he had ever felt before. Boys were making a fuss of him, with one guy sitting on his lap for a short while; his ass crudely felt up by Jed’s enormous hands as he whispered something clearly kinky into the hunk’s ear.

A sudden rush came at the bar and the next time Scotty looked up, Jed had gone; onto the next bar. Scotty sighed in disappointment and inwardly cursed Roy for getting between him and possibly the best fuck of his life. He decided then that if he ever was lucky enough to come acrossJed again, he wouldn’t be so easily quietened. If Jed really was such a bad boy, he was going to have fun learning that for himself.

As the clubs were in full swing, it was time for the smaller bars to start to close up for the evening. Roy was in a particularly good mood, letting Scotty leave as soon as the cash registers had been balanced. He skipped out the front, taking in the warm summer air and tried to recall the breathtaking images of Jed that he still had in his head. The man had been so fucking sexy! He could still feel his boner even though it had been two whole hours since Jed had come in. 

Scotty walked slowly by another bar, noticing that they still had quite a crowd inside. He peered in, just in case Jed was amongst them. Then, his heart skipped a beat. There the beautiful guy was, surrounded by other handsome boys, like his own personal fan club!

Wasting no time, Scotty went in and leaned against the bar to be served, deciding that a short detour before home would be worth it if he could catch Jed’s attention once more.

Keen-eyed Jed spotted him straight away, sliding over straight after he had been served. “Well, well, well… what have we here?” he sang. Scotty’s heart started beating with incredible speed. He couldn’t tell whether he was about to be flirted with or bullied. Either way, he was already getting horny. “I wonder why you came in here!” he chuckled, seeming to already know Scotty's motives.

“I often pop in here after a shift,” Scotty lied.

“Sure you do!” Jed laughed, getting closer and closer. “How’s the lovely Roy these days?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” Scotty replied, finding he was too nervous and excited to even hold eye contact for more than a second or two. “Why does he dislike you so much, though?” he questioned him; his curiosity getting the better of him.

At this, Jed smirked. “I may have fucked a few people in the bathrooms at your bar,” he beamed proudly.

“We often get guys misbehaving in the cubicles,” Scotty shrugged, a little disappointed if that was to be the extent of Jed’s sexy ‘bad boy’ reputation.

“Oh, I don’t squeeze into those uncomfortable cubicles!” Jed laughed. “I get off on having an audience when I’m fucking someone. I don’t know what little Roy was complaining about. I certainly packed out his bar for him.”

Scotty tried to imagine the sight, feeling his breath catching in his chest with excitement. His eyes drifted onto Jed’s full, plump lips, losing control of himself.

“Roy sure knows how to pick the kinky twinks,” Jed teased, searching into Scotty's eyes and seeming to instinctively know all of the dirty thoughts that were running though his mind. “So, you grew up in Tennessee, huh?” he asked next, as if trying to refocus the conversation back onto something that might calm the horny Scotty down.

“I grew up around here,” Scotty answered, bewildered by Jed. “I moved from Tennessee when I was about five. But how did you know that?” 

“A couple of your vowels when you speak,” Jed replied. “It’s very subtle, but it’s there if you know what you’re looking for.”

“You’re very observant,” Scotty mumbled back, wondering just how much more Jed had inferred about him. No one had ever commented on his indistinct accent before. It was clear to him that Jed was as sharp as they came.

“Are you taking him back with us?” asked a muscular guy to Jed, strutting over with a feminine looking conquest under his arm.

“Of course I’m taking him home,” Jed replied, looking Scotty up and down. “Don’t be too flattered,” he chuckled to the slender bartender he had spoken to for the first time only a minute earlier. “I fuck all of Roy’s boys. It really pisses him off.”

Scotty didn’t care about the motives or consequences at that moment. His erection was wanting him to follow Jed, no matter where he led him. He abandoned his full drink and followed the boys on that short journey down the street towards an apartment building. Once in the elevator, Jed pulled him in to kiss him passionately, as if this was all a well rehearsed and highly effective warm-up for the main event. His massive, sexy body pressed into him, hands roaming exactly where they needed to. Then he stood back and smiled wickedly, knowing that he had Scotty hornier than he had ever been in his life.

Once on the top floor, the two other guys entered the apartment, with voices and dance music escaping as soon as the door opened. Jed held Scotty back in the entrance space, ready to explain the rules and expectations.”I’m leaving fifty bucks here,” he demonstrated, pulling out the ruffled notes from his wallet and placing them on the small table by the door. “If you want to leave at any time, just take it and get yourself a cab. The guy downstairs will help you out.”

Scotty nodded despite having no intention of going anywhere. But Jed’s intention was clear: he was free to leave whenever he liked.

“If you want to suck my dick tonight, you gotta leave your clothes here,” Jed ordered next, pointing to a pile of empty, discarded shirts, pants, underwear, socks and shoes. “The subs don’t wear anything in here,” he explained matter-of-factly. Then he stood, waiting for Scotty to comply.

Scotty didn’t waste a second. He wanted to be part of one of Jed’s exhibitionist fantasies like nothing else. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his work shirt, released his belt and dropped his pants, alongside his underwear; taking pride in showing off just how hard his erection had become. Twenty seconds of stroking and the whole thing might blow.

The main living area was large and spacious, with double height windows and several areas for people to congregate. Guys were everywhere, some naked and some not, lounging about the place. From their reactions when Jed entered, it was obvious that this was his place. The star of the show had just returned, holding a naked, skinny twink’s hand, ready to fuck in front of them all. They stopped what they were doing, conversations ending and they moved to see what entertainment Jed had in store.

“He’s very slim!” chuckled one of the guys to the side. “Not your usual type at all!”

Jed laughed and nodded, stroking Scotty’s slender butt with hardly an ounce of fat on it. He;d always been the same: moderately tall and lanky with a runner’s build. “He’s one of Roy’s new bartenders. You know what Roy’s like for his twinks. I had to collect the set.”

Scotty felt even more blessed to be there. He wasn’t even Jed’s usual type, yet there he was, about to have the pinnacle of his sexual experiences merely because the bad boy had a vendetta against his boss. He was sent down onto his knees. Jed unbuckled his pants, feeding his oversized erection into Scotty’s mouth. No wonder the guy was so into public sex. He had no reason at all to ever feel conscious about his size. Scotty had never taken something so big; his mouth needing a little while to work out what to do with it all.

Jed continued chatting to those around him, recounting the story of how he had been sent away by Roy earlier. They all laughed at the bit where Scotty had turned up at the bar later and been so easily enticed back; moaning with appreciation at watching him trying to suck Jed off.

“Alright, alright,” Jed chuckled a few minutes later, pulling Scotty’s mouth off his hardness. “That’s not really your specialty!” He looked around at the others. “Skinny boys always give shit blowjobs.”

Scotty noticed people rushing to push some of the large sofa sections together. The whole thing came apart in modules, leaving a large, square, bed-like stage in the middle of a surprisingly crowded space.

“Face down. Ass up,” Jed ordered him, guiding him to the area. He’d slipped a condom on and lubricated himself up, all the while Scotty presenting his butt to the eager crowds. But once Jed was inside him, working up a sweat, nothing else mattered. Scotty felt the eyes upon them, heightening his sexual thrill. He came the moment Jed reached around and grabbed his hardness, only seconds before he ejaculated himself. Some in the crowd had started touching themselves, others subs going down on their men.

Jed, drenched in sweat and smiling proudly simply turned to Scotty and whispered. “Be sure to tell Roy that I did that!”

The whole living space was empty when Scotty woke up the next morning to a loud sound. He’d always been a deep sleeper, having crashed on the couch at some point and not woken, even as the sun had started to pour in through the enormous windows. Had he missed the memo? Had Jed expected everyone gone before he was up the next morning?

“You’re still here?” asked a naked Jed, striding into the kitchen moments later, opening the refrigerator and drinking his milk straight from the carton.

Scotty apologised, fumbling as he got up and tried to remember where he had left all of his clothes. Jed leaned against the wall, watching with amusement as a slightly panicked Scotty tried his best to dress himself from the scattered remains of his clothes across the hallway.

“Thanks for last night,” Scotty tried once he was half dressed. “It was the best experience I’ve ever had.”

Jed only smirked and downed more of his milk.

“Is there any chance you might want to do it again some time?” Scotty asked next, knowing that he would regret it if he didn’t.

“I fucked you to piss Roy off,” Jed answered honestly. In fairness, his agenda had always been blatantly transparent. “You’re not my type. All that skin and bone. I’m into chubs.”

Scotty nodded, not in the least bit surprised that Jed wasn’t interested in seeing him again. Although the fact that a guy like Jed could be into chubs was not something he had expected until last night. 

“Maybe if you gained thirty pounds or so, we could discuss it. I’m sure Roy would love that!” Jed joked, supping from his milk once again.

“Roy’s a nice guy,” Scotty replied, feeling that he needed to defend the kind boss who had looked after him so much since he’d moved to the city and been practically disowned by his parents. “He didn’t hire me because of how I look.���

Jed laughed. “Roy’s not a nice guy,” he sniggered. “And he absolutely hired you because of how you look. That’s why all his employees look almost identical. If he’s not made a move on you, it’s because he’s not got you where he wants you yet. Trust me, he does it with every single one of his bartenders eventually.”

Again, Scotty shook his head. “You just don’t know him like I do,” he sighed, finally pushing his feet into his shoes and turning to leave.

“Wanna bet?” Jed asked, as if Scotty had thrown down a challenge. “Saint Roy wouldn’t be half as nice to you if you did put on a little weight.”

“He’s not interested in me like that,” Scotty repeated.

“Fine then. Prove it!” Jed demanded. “You wanna be Roy’s boy, or mine?” he asked flirtatiously, stepping closer.

“Yours,” Scotty replied meekly back, his heart beating faster again.

“Gain thirty pounds for me and I’ll fuck you in front of everyone again, just like last night,” Jed offered, his hands sliding onto Scotty’s butt as he pulled him in. “No muscle, no weight training. Just give me some nice doughy padding on that ass of yours for when I fuck you next.”

Even the thought of a second fucking like yesterday’s was giving Scotty a hardness he couldn’t control. “I’d do anything…” he whispered back lustfully.

Jed smiled and kissed him, motioning him back towards the door. When the kiss ended, Scotty was already on the threshold. Jed had spun him around by his shoulders and with a little push on his butt, Scotty was outside in the corridor. “I guess we’ll soon see, won’t we,” Jed grinned back, swinging the door shut behind him. Gone.

After several rounds of touching himself, thinking about the previous night, Scotty set to work researching his task without a second thought. He needed to gain a good few pounds if he had a hope of getting with Jed again. The internet had lots of good ideas, although weblinks kept sending him back to sites that promoted ways to lose weight, rather than gain it. He studied the advice for weight loss, realising that he could reverse much of it if he wanted to see the number on the scales rising. So what if he might look a little chubby for a while? Experiences like the one last night could not be matched, so why fight against doing what had to be done? He’d been far too skinny most of his life anyway.

Word had reached Roy that Jed had slept with Scotty by the time he started his next shift that Wednesday evening. The relentless gossip was one of the most frustrating parts of this community, Scotty realised. Roy was obviously cross, reminding Scotty again and again how he had tried to keep him out of harm’s way, as well as the reasons why. Scotty found himself apologising simply to appease the guy, not daring to explain any of the details of how thrilling and magical the evening had been. Roy wouldn’t want to hear that he didn’t regret a thing.

For two weeks, Roy was colder with him, before things finally started to lighten up. However, that was before a new challenge hit them.

“Those pants look a bit tight,” the older man commented seeing Scotty unloading some beers into the refrigerators. 

Scotty idiotically tried to turn his head over his shoulder, as if he too could see his butt. He’d done everything he had learned in order to gain weight, but had only managed about five pounds so far. Surely that wasn’t enough for his boss to notice?

“You know, if you’re going to work here, the customers expect you to look tidy,” Roy reminded him.

“The pants feel fine,” Scotty shrugged. “I just gained a couple of pounds. That’s all.”

Roy raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. “Well, sort it out,” he grumbled warningly.

Scotty soon realised that pants which felt fine one day could soon become quite restrictive the next. He couldn’t deny that his butt had swollen up as he finally reached a ten pound gain on the scales. His flat stomach had taken a bit of a beating, looking constantly bloated; remaining like it was after a large meal. When he poked and prodded it, everything underneath the skin felt altogether softer. His tight, figure-hugging t-shirts had to be put away for the time being, and Scotty bought himself some stretchier pants for work, pairing them with a black shirt that made his less streamlined appearance stand out less. By fifteen pounds, Scotty was starting to feel it under his chin. Each time he shaved, he could see the little padding getting puffier and puffier. Softness was spreading into his hips and sides, swelling slight love handles out that further complicated the fit of both his pants and shirts by the time over twenty pounds hit. He looked, for all the world to see, like a young guy ready to go on a diet. Twenty-five pounds sounded like a tiny amount of weight, yet it had altered his appearance so much, especially when his shirt came off.

As for Jed, Scotty hadn’t laid eyes on him in the entire three months he had been following every single nutritional advice he could in order to pack on the pounds. There were faces he recognised of the people who had been at the party that night, but none of them were ever with Jed, nor willing to hand out his cell phone number whenever Scotty cheekily asked for it. Some said he was on vacation, others that he was working away. In either case, Scotty was soon going to reach his weight goal and the guy he was doing this for wasn’t even going to be around to see it.

It began to dawn on Scotty just how much extra weight thirty pounds was. With it, he had actually grown a small belly that rounded out his middle, whilst he was also starting to carry extra blubber around his nipples for the first time. His cheeks had become puffier in his face and even with his styling choices, he wasn’t able to conceal the fact that he had gained quite a considerable amount of weight. But with the absence of Jed around town, Scotty suddenly had an unexpectedly awkward job on his hands. At 185lbs, he’d hit his weight target and now needed to somehow maintain it without dropping down again. That would mean he would need to maintain certain aspects of his new eating regime, without going overboard. Something that had never been part of the plan. What Scotty had expected was a short-term weight gain, followed by a cut that would see his weight return to normal.

Perhaps it was all about the timing. Scotty had hit the goal weight just as the holidays were getting underway. He should have known that maintaining his weight would have been no issue. But as Scotty tried to button his pants that January, he realised that he had actually done even more damage than before. He stepped on the scales and sighed in disappointment at himself. It couldn’t be? The scales had to be off! He couldn’t really be 197lbs, surely? Had he really fucked up his metabolism that much on this weight quest? He needed to go on a diet as soon as possible.

“What the fuck did you do?” cried out a deep and powerful voice as Scotty busily collected the empty glasses and bottles from the tables in the bar. He’d been rushed off his feet, with Roy choosing to leave him with a fairly incompetent new hire. But as he turned around to see who was shouting, the air got caught in Scotty’s lungs and his eyes visibly bulged. It was Jed, looking even more built and physically imposing than the last time Scotty had seen him.

In an instant, Scotty realised how stupid he had been. Jed was joking about the weight gain, right? He’d made a couple of throwaway comments about gaining thirty pounds and here Scotty was with almost an additional fifty. He rubbed his stomach, suddenly wishing he could make it all disappear.

“You’re an actual fatty!” Jed laughed, reaching out to Scotty’s hips as the boy held his tray of empties. Then Jed spun him around so that he could see the wide, bloated mess his butt had become.

“I’ve been doing it for you…” Scotty shot back, now feeling a desperate need to explain himself. “...Like you asked.”

Jed turned him back and reached his hand under Scotty’s chin, pulling forwards so that all of the new double chin fat bulged underneath. “This is way more than thirty pounds, though,” Jed observed shrewdly. 

“I went a little overboard,” Scotty replied meekly, seeing that people were starting to stare. “I got carried away.”

Jed was just staring at him, spinning him some more; a wicked twinkle in his eyes. He reached down and readjusted himself. Was he actually getting a hard-on, right there in the middle of the bar?

“Where can I take you to fuck you?” Jed demanded, looking around the space as if exploring all possible options.

“I can’t. I’m working,” Scotty replied regretfully, hardly believing the apparent urgency that Jed needed him after all.

“Fuck!” Jed moaned, sounding like he might actually burst. He looked at his large designer watch knowing exactly what time the bar would be shutting. “Come to my place after you finish,” he ordered, strapping his big hand over Scotty’s butt and squeezing. “You remember where to go, right? I’ll make sure there are plenty to watch…”

Scotty nodded. After months of work, everything was suddenly happening so fast. Not only was this happening, it was happening tonight! At long last, Jed was about to have his way with him.

Jed wasn’t the one to answer the door when Scotty finally made it up to the apartment two hours later. A short, hairy and slightly older guy answered. Completely naked, it was obvious that he was the submissive of someone inside. Had he been there last time? Scotty could hardly remember. However, with the way his body was being scrutinised, Scotty felt sure that he must have been: eyes of judgement upon him for packing on so much extra weight.

Jed, your new chub’s here!” the guy cried out.

Suddenly, a strapping, shirtless, athletic guy was racing to the door. He picked Scotty up from the threshold, throwing him over his shoulder excitedly and calling out to the room in his deep voice. “My new fatty’s arrived!”

Scotty was very aware that all everyone could see of him as he went in was his wider, chubbier rear, held at head level for the rest of the guests; some of whom patted it in amusement. It was the ass that he hoped Jed was about to give a proper pounding, all going well.

Jed put him down and immediately swept Scotty up into a surprisingly romantic, passionate kiss. He took a step back, leaving Scotty as the focal point of all the eyes in the room. “Take note everyone,” Jed called out. “This is what a real sub looks like,” he beamed. “I challenged him to gain thirty pounds for me and the little pig went and gained fifty instead! All of it pure blubber!”

Jed stared intensely whilst the others in the room looked at each other, perhaps some of them starting to recognise Scotty now from when he was here a few months ago. Jed lowered his zipper and pulled out his own hardness, stroking it excitedly: big and heavy, too large for even his giant hand. He nodded at Scotty, his meaning clear in that moment: start undressing.

Scotty gazed with lust at Jed’s hardness as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He heard gasps of surprise as he pulled it off, knowing just how much the material had concealed his flabbier shape. He knew how bad the back fat looked: the stretch-marked love handles resting on his belt, the fleshy swelling of his nipples. But still Jed grinned, stroking himself; silently demanding more. He noticed that the music had been turned down low as he removed his belt and kicked off his shoes. He undid his pants, dropping his underwear at the same time, uncovering his comparatively underwhelming hardness.

“Fuck, look at it!” a horny Jed proclaimed. “He absolutely destroyed his twink body for me!”

Scotty smiled, realising that that was exactly what he had done, surrendering his whole body in the hope of Jed dominating him one more time. More than ever, he wanted Jed to take him, turning slightly so that he could show the muscular boy his glutes, swollen and enlarged. He put his weight on one foot, making one glute bulge and then the other. He reached his hands behind, bouncing the fleshiness, then spreading them apart. 

That was the last thing that Jed could take, ripping off his clothes and launching himself upon Scotty; starting to make love to him. Unlike last time, there was a horny urgency to the whole thing. It felt like barely a minute had gone by before Jed was moaning in his ear as he came inside him; simultaneously stroking Scotty up and down his shaft and making him squirt absolutely everywhere.

“Fuck!” Jed moaned collapsing on top of Scotty, still fully inserted inside of him. He seemed completely spent and satisfied; much like Scotty himself. The pair lay there for a minute or two, laughing blissfully whilst everyone else drifted off; the music returning to the usual volume. “I’m going to need to do that again later,” Jed explained, finally rolling off Scotty.

“Fine by me,” Scotty beamed, only now realising that his socks were still on. After all those months of gaing, he knew he was going to make sure that he stayed there for as long as Jed would have him.

Jed had been insatiable, fucking him twice before bed that night and another, more rapid and sweaty affair the next morning. “How’s the lovely Roy these days?” Jed asked, spooning Scotty lovingly from behind afterwards. 

“He’s fine,” Scotty replied. “A bit grumpy. I’m lucky I don’t see him so much these days. I usually work with the other staff.”

“What a surprise!” Jed chuckled. “So Roy’s not as nice to you now that you’re a chub?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a chub,” Scotty replied. “I don’t look that much different. I don’t think it’s the reason why Roy’s been a bit off with me.”

Jed laughed, kissing his neck. “You’re so sweet and naive,” he whispered, holding Scotty like his own little plaything. “But you’re absolutely a chub now,” he teased. His flaccid penis was starting to get hard again, pressing gently between Scotty’s butt cheeks. “Everyone can see what a little porker you’ve turned into.”

Sensing Jed’s arousal was making Scotty feel more than a little horny himself. He didn’t know why Jed’s teasing and name-calling did it for him so much, but accepting what was said to him felt like the most beautiful submission. It was easy to lean into it. “So, Roy doesn’t like me anymore because I got so fat for you?” he asked. “Because I turned into a chub?”

Jed’s hardness was continuing to build. He started gyrating his hips and nuzzling into Scotty’s neck even more. “Say that again…” Jed moaned into his ear.

“I’m a chub,” Scotty repeated, feeling Jed’s hand stroking his semi encouragingly as soon as the words left his mouth. He moaned. There was so much more he wanted to do to turn Jed on; to submit himself to him.

“How does it feel being a fatty now?” Jed went on, enjoying his mastery over him.

Scotty moaned. How did it feel? He had the hottest guy in the world trying to make him squirt for the second time that morning, all because he’d gained so much weight for him. “Fucking amazing!” he blasted.

“Then gain more for me,” Jed ordered, seeming to have greater control over himself now than he had the previous times they had started to make love.

“You want me to get even fatter?” Scotty asked, finding it hard to even think straight with all  the stimulation. He rolled slightly, needing to look Jed in the eyes to see if he was serious. “How much fatter?” he asked, finally meeting Jed’s calculating stare.

“As fat and as blubbery as I want,” Jed answered, expertly keeping Scotty hard without climaxing, “I want you to be what I’ve been looking for my entire life. I want you to be my ultimate sub.”

“I want to be your sub,” Scotty nodded.

“Then you know what you need to do, right?” Jed asked him seriously; without a hint of humor or joviality in his face.

Getting back into the old routine wasn’t difficult. Jed had been overtaken by wild lust when Scotty had explained all the routines he had previously set up for himself in order to ensure he was consistently overdosed with calories and reduced his active periods. It made Scotty feel excited and validated that he had done so well in following Jed’s wishes. All he had expected was one last fuck from the hunk, yet here he was, with several messages from the guy on his cell phone and a hook-up planned for later that week. Gaining weight, doing as Jed asked, it had all opened up doors for him that Scotty didn’t know existed. He ripped open the lid of the whipping cream and began pouring. Chug, chug, chug. Just as Jed would want.

A few more weeks went by and the noticeable changes in Scotty’s body were the subject of many stares at Jed’s usual weekend party at his apartment. Perhaps it was all the cream Scotty had been drinking, or the consistent manner with which he had pushed himself to gorge, but the plush extra weight had settled itself squarely on his new gut and further softened up his chest. He looked genuinely bloated, as if his face and chins had yet to catch up to the tank that was being manufactured below. Jed also said that he could see it building in his butt and thighs, patting the glutes like a proud owner.

“You should hear some of the things Jed says about you when you’re not here,” whispered Jed’s other submissive, Sebastian, trying to get a moment alone with Scotty at the party. “He’s absolutely lost it.”

“How do you mean?” Scotty asked, helping himself to a beer. He didn’t feel in any way alarmed by the dramatic concern Sebastian seemed to be showing. He knew that none of Jed’s other subs liked him. They were jealous of how much of his time Scotty took up and the fact that Jed appeared only to have eyes for him whenever he was around.

“Scotty…” called Jed from across the room as he was chatting to someone else; never really letting him out of his sight. “Remember to snack on those breadsticks, baby.”

Sebastian waited until Jed’s eyes were away from them before he started speaking again. “I’m not sure you realise how into this Jed actually is,” he resumed whispering. “He’s obsessed about your weight. He talks constantly about your calories and how to ensure you don’t move around too much or exercise. It’s all he ever wants to discuss with the other guys.”

Scotty gnawed on a breadstick, enjoying the thought of Jed getting so aroused by him, even when he wasn’t around. 

“He showed me some kinky underwear he wants to make you actually grow into. I’m not joking. They were enormous!” he emphasised. “I think… I think he actually wants to make you… morbidly obese,” Sebastian finally stated.

Scotty looked at him, wondering what game the guy was trying to play. Was he trying to scare Scotty off so that things could return to normal around here? Sebastian had always been one of Jed’s favorite subs due to his surprisingly heavy, oversized rear. Was getting rid of Scotty his way of ensuring Jed paid him more attention instead?

“And?” Scotty asked defiantly.

Sebastian seemed taken aback. “And?” he repeated back to him. “Dude, look at yourself!” he demanded. “He’s had you eating the entire time you’ve been here. You’re seventy pounds fatter than you were when you met him!”

“Is everything alright, honey?” Jed asked, striding over and placing his large arm directly over his favorite lover’s shoulders. He stared at Sebastian, seming to sense what had been said.

“Your sub doesn’t really approve of what you’re doing to me,” Scotty answered him obediently, happy to throw Sebastian under the bus.

Jed straightened up a little, seeming more imposing by the second. “Is that so?” he asked Sebastian with a slight menace to his voice. The whole room quietened.

“He was telling me about some underwear you’ve bought for me to grow into,” Scotty further added, enjoying seeing Sebastian squirm.

“You tried to ruin the surprise for my fat boy?” Jed laughed, despite being clearly irritated.

“I was just…” Sebastian tried to defend himself. “I wasn’t sure that he knew everything!”

Jed tutted and shook his head in disappointment. “Oh, Seb!” he sighed. “You know that you’ll have to be punished, don’t you?” he asked the submissive boy.

Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “I do?” he asked hopefully.

Scotty felt a little tap on his butt and heard a whisper in his ear for him to go and sit on the big chair by the TV. Jed strutted to his refrigerator and opened the door, pulling out an enormous expensive-looking cream-covered chocolate cake on a large tray. “My pig needs feeding,” he explained disinterestedly, passing Sebastian the tray even though the young, relatively chubby submissive seemed genuinely surprised by the weight of it. “Make sure he eats it all,” he grinned. 

For a moment it seemed like Sebastian was ready to rebel. Jed’s face lit up at the silent challenge.

“Tell my pig I want him big, fat and greedy,” he demanded. “Otherwise… there’s fifty bucks by the front door. Take it and leave,” he smiled.

Sebastian huffed, walking with the tray over to Scotty and getting down on his knees. Then, in one single movement, he scooped his hand into the cake, filling his palm with it, before thrusting it towards an eager Scotty’s face. “Eat up!” he ordered, thoroughly defeated as Scotty began gorging from his hand.

The other dominant men in the room came over to pat Jed on the back. He’d handled the situation well; both his boys were now doing exactly as he wanted. Indeed, Jed looked on with pride, picking at Sebastian’s technique the entire time and laughing with the others in the room. “Don’t forget the frosting!” he called out, watching his two subs pleasing him like this. Needless to say, it was Scotty that had the honour of making it into his bedroom that night, leaving Sebastian to head home, unfulfilled.

Scotty couldn’t quite get over the quiet hostility towards him in work as he showed up for his shifts whenever Roy was around. Despite always dressing well for his increasing size with shirts and pants that fit properly, Roy would scowl at him as he began to take up more and more space behind the bar. “Move your ass!” the guy would shout across to him whenever he got in the way now, hiding him in the back to organise the stock as often as he could.

Jed would often come in during a shift, smiling extra brightly if Roy was ever there. No more free drinks were given, no protective swooping in from Roy to ensure Scotty stayed out of harm's way. “Do you like the improvements I’ve made?” Jed would goad him, pointing at Scotty’s chubby glutes as he trotted about serving the others.

“No, I don’t,” Roy simply replied, not wanting to even give Jed the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

It all gave Jed such a thrill. “Well, that’s too fucking bad!” he’d laugh, sipping his beer and turning back to check out the guys in Roy’s club. He knew Roy would never bar him from coming in here. Given the way he looked, just having him there drew people in. It made perfect business sense.

At the end of the shift, Jed would be there, waiting to walk his property back home to his place. He’d be sure to kiss and handle him whenever Roy was about, always explaining that a take-out delivery was already on its way for when they got back.

“Is it bad that I would love to fuck you in front of your boss?” Jed laughed later, admiring his chub as he hungrily gorged for him after the shift.

Scotty laughed and nodded his head. “I’d say that would definitely get me fired!”

“So?” Jed asked seriously. “I was looking at the data from your smartwatch on my cell phone earlier. You got far too many steps in walking backwards and forwards behind that bar tonight. Why do you think I had to order you the extra garlic bread?”

Scotty swallowed, appreciating how erotic it was that Jed took such a keen interest in every aspect of his life; wanting to dominate all of it. “You want me to quit?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Jed nodded. “I need you to sit on that fat ass of yours more if I’m going to grow it out like I want.”

“But what would I do for work? I couldn’t afford my rent,” Scotty fretted.

Jed looked around his large penthouse apartment. “You’d move in here with me instead. I need you to give me twenty four hour access to all that blubber. I think it’s time, don’t you?”

It was already a done deal. After some simple seduction, playing with Scotty’s newly sensitive nipples, Jed had him messaging Roy, quitting his job right there and then. Then he messaged the boys he shared a place with, letting them know he was giving up his room. When the morning came, Jed had one of his minions head over to Scotty’s place and clear out his room; most of the clothes heading straight off to charity.

Scotty was expecting to be set up in Jed’s spare room and was surprised to learn that he was actually going to be staying in Jed’s own bedroom with him. The kinky hunk had bought himself the largest bed he could find and wasted no time in taking Scotty’s ever expanding and always softening butt anyway he could.

The effects of not working had been speedy. Under Jed’s orders, the amount of calories Scotty was consuming through liquids had dramatically increased. Each night Jed would study the chub’s body, captivated by the new stretch marks. Three hundred pounds had been a kinky goal for so long, yet it came and went rather rapidly under the new regime. There were new rolls and fleshy areas forming all over his frame. His body had become a playhouse to the handsome man he had been ensnared by, and he simply couldn’t imagine anything being more thrilling. Jed was insatiable. Walking around in only a tight pair of briefs pretty much guaranteed that Jed was going to fuck him wherever he was in the apartment. Several times, Scotty had walked by as Jed was on his cell phone making a business call. He’d been stopped in his tracks, purposefully bent over the desk and gently pounded without Jed ever losing his train of thought whilst speaking with the client.

The other subs, like Sebastian, had started to pile on a few pounds, making Jed laugh at their desperation for attention. Although many of the other dominant guys who hung out at Jed’s parties were no longer attracted by Scotty’s flabby form, the fat boy was still shown off in all his glory regardless; poked, prodded and teased for letting Jed transform him like this.

Derek was the only other dominant guy who seemed to really get off on the unusual form of domination Jed was mastering over his prey. Jed sought his advice often, being a few years older and the only one with any sort of experience in handling growing chubs.

“Every time I look at that butt I think it can’t get much bigger,” Derek marvelled, witnessing Scotty trotting over to join them on the couch. “And yet, there it is… fatter every week!” he laughed alongside Jed.

Jed grinned proudly, sliding his muscular arm over Scotty. “It’s almost the biggest ass I’ve ever fucked now,” he nodded, happy to take full credit.

“And just remember that scrawny little shit we watched you fuck all that time ago!” Derek chuckled.

“Just under eighteen months ago,” Jed nodded, mindlessly bouncing Scotty’s sagging chest as his huge arm draped over the boy’s shoulders. “He’s still shit at giving blow jobs, though,” he laughed, remembering how uninspired he had been that first night.

“Train him,” Derek shot back, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most simple thing in the world. “It’s a lot easier with chubs.” He looked across at Scotty and all the fat he was now carrying in his face; a giant ring of fat under his chin. “They’re greedy little fuckers. Every last one of them. It’s simple.”

As suggested, Jed unbuckled his pants and spread his legs, fishing out his oversized erection for Scotty who was getting down onto the floor as if to start sucking him off.

“The thing with fatties,” Derek began, “is that they have saliva glands which are a lot easier to activate than most people.”

“Mmm! Wet, sloppy blow jobs!” Jed chuckled, looking at Scotty’s greedy little mouth. He reached out his hand, pinching the sides of Scotty’s mouth until his lips opened and his cheeks bulged.

“I hear your pig has quite the sweet tooth?” Derek asked, collecting a cupcake from the side and passing it to Jed who held it in his hand. “Just waft this under his nose to start with.”

Jed smirked and followed the advice. Instinctively, Scotty went to take a bite and was stopped by a very loud ‘no’ from both Jed and Derek; scolded like a naughty puppy. “Just smell it, Piggy!” Jed ordered.

Jed and Derek watched him with fascinated curiosity. Then, all of a sudden, they both simultaneously burst into laughter, almost making Scotty jump. It took Scotty a few moments to work out why they were chuckling. Had he swallowed his building saliva without even realising?

“It works every time with a fatty!” Derek laughed. He reached out and scooped a little of the frosting from the cupcake and smeared it over the tip of Scotty’s nose. “You need the pig to keep smelling it if you want it to keep producing the saliva.”

Jed was smiling excitedly, delighted by the tutoring. He reached out his large hand and lowered Scotty’s mouth onto his hardness, sighing with pleasure as the wet tongue began its work. Next,  Derek handed him a warm pizza slice from the box that had just arrived. Jed lowered it, holding it close to Scotty’s face as he sucked. Derek adjusted Jed’s hand a little, ensuring that the scent would be easily picked up by Scotty’s nose.

“Fuck!” Jed cried, jumping a little as a fresh wave of saliva lubricated his erection, allowing Scotty to slide his mouth effortlessly over as much of it as he could fit into his mouth. “This is fucking awesome!”

Derek smiled, resting his hand on Jed’s large shoulder. “You put in the hard work developing your pig’s appetite,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Now you can just sit back and enjoy it!”

Word was spreading that Jed was close to climaxing and the horny guests gathered around to watch, just as Jed liked. He moaned as loudly as Scotty had ever heard him, pulling out at the last minute so that everyone could see the giant jets as he came.

Thoroughly satisfied, slouching and exhausted, Jed lay there with a wicked smile plastered across his face. Scotty grinned, pleased to have been the reason for it. Not being able to please Jed with his mouth had been a constant source of shame for him. He reached out, picking the drooping pizza slice out from Jed’s hand and began nibbling. Jed watched on with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

The crowds attending Jed’s parties began to evolve. Pretty soon, Derek wasn’t the only admirer of the hunk’s hard work with Scotty. Other chub lovers, and the guys who were getting fatter for them, started replacing those more casually kinky men who used to be invited. Scotty found himself sucking down a greater variety of calorie shakes as the new acquaintances in this group gave Jed a variety of recipes to prepare for him. At over three hundred and fifty pounds, Scotty didn’t feel he had much to prove to these guys, nor the starter chubs they brought along with them. The focus became more about the food, which suited Scotty fine. His appetite and capacity was something everyone always complimented Jed for, elevating the hunk’s status to new heights.

Jed held Scotty from behind, one hand holding up his chubby neck in a way that pushed forward his double chin; his thumb gently caressing his cheek. Jed’s other hand gripped mercilessly onto his belly fat, jiggling and shaking it for all to see. “At least three shakes a day and these are the sorts of gains you can expect,” he told them all. “Have high expectations at all times. That’s how you grow out your pigs.”

Despite being a submissive, amongst the other fatties, Scotty felt he had a much greater status. He’d done it all, after all. They’d all seen the video someone had taken the first time Jed had fucked his skinny little butt, and they had all witnessed for themselves the monstrous appetite he could display for Jed’s pleasure. When he hit four hundred pounds, the submissives had all been ordered to feed him whilst the others watched on, shouting out orders.

Although Jed still went out to pick guys up when he pleased, never missing out on one of Roy’s ever skinny employees, it was always Scotty he came home to. When they went out to the gay venues together, the big jock never shied away from showing his affection and always sought a seat for his increasingly rotund lover in whichever bar they went to.

“Roy keeps on staring,” Jed chuckled, whispering into his fat boy’s ear. “When he goes out next, you’re going to have to move faster than I usually let you.”

Scotty nodded, excited to give Jed this fantasy. When instructed, he heaved his fat body up quickly and trotted behind his lover. Once inside the bathroom, Jed had undressed completely in the time it had taken Scotty to open his pants and pull them down enough to show his blubbery ass cheeks.

This was it: the final piece of the jigsaw, letting Jed take him here, in the place he had once worked. Kinky boys had already gathered around them, keen to watch Jed and his giant hardness at work. No doubt Roy would notice and follow in soon to throw them all out. But what did it matter? He hadn’t been Roy’s boy for a long time. 

He was Jed’s.

[kagesstuff]

Fuck 🥵

Please, stuff me until I’m out of breath. (make it so I can’t breath properly)

Please, stuff me until I’m heaving. (make me unable to swallow anymore)

Please, stuff me until I’m burping uncontrollably. (make me burp as I’m trying to eat more)

Please, stuff me until my jaw is sore. (make my tongue cramp)

Please, stuff me until I can’t stand up without assistance. (make me too heavy to help)

Please, stuff me until I can’t walk. (make me temporarily immobile)

Please, stuff me until I am sleepy. (make me pass out)

Please, stuff me until my belly is distended. (make my gut so much fatter)

Please, stuff me until I’m addicted to eating. (make me desperate for more food)