#moob goals

[fatboysoftie]

Silly stuffing, the chocolate milk made me feel so bloated and heavy, my belly felt so hard😮‍💨

[fatboysoftie]

try wearing old clothes

i haven’t wore these clothes since like 3 years ago lol

[gluttonyisholy]

We need to normalise men having one goal in life:

To stuff their face with fattening, sugary, delicious calories every waking moment. To give in to their gluttony until mountains of fat envelop every inch of their body and make their figure unrecognisable as human.

I need you to be unable to see over your massive gut, unable to bend down more that a inch, unable to reach your fat sausage fingers further down your body than your enormous engorged moobs. Every breath should be a painful wheeze. But still the act of eating more and more and more until you almost burst will turn you mindless with pleasure.

[charliegyrth]

Hello from Charlie Gyrth!

A Brief Introduction (and Links!)

Hello, Tumblr! My name’s Charlie. I’ve been writing (and reading) gainer fiction for years, and I finally have the confidence to start posting. My goal is to publish one story or chapter every day for the rest of 2025.

Here’s what I have so far:

Today's Story:

My Little Meatball

Long Stories:

Fat Passengers - 3 parts (ebook) Fat for a Day - 3 parts (ebook) Nightly Feedings - 4 parts (ebook) A Milkshake a Day - 4 parts (ebook) Adiposexual - 5 parts (ebook) My Former Best Friend - 5 parts (ebook) Go with the Flow - 9 parts (ebook) Fatter for the Wedding - 12 parts (ebook) Alex Gets Soft - 22 parts (ebook)

Short Stories:

Are You Happy? Back from the Oil Rig Big Fat Crush on My Doctor Big Fat Principal Changing My Body for You Chicken Shack Fatties Cody Comes Back Fat Farm Boys Fat Felix Tries Ozempic Fattened in a Hotel Fattening the Actor Fit to Fat to Fit: What Could Go Wrong? Getting Fat for TV Good Memories Hangry Halloween Before and After How to Be a Fat American How to Be an Alpha Improving Myself James Goes to the Gym Larry the Model Liam's Sweet Tooth Mark Wears the Pants Marriage Body Mukbang Mikey My Best Friend Comes Back My Boyfriend's Moobs Scooter Search History Three Roommates Tiny Tim and Small Sam Two Fat Guys on a Blind Date Unrecognizably Fat What Happened to the Hot Swimmer? What a Show-Off! The Writer's Retreat

Fantasy/Sci-Fi Stories:

Darren's Birthday Surprise Fattened by Donuts Final Destination: Obesity King Kong and the Blob Metabolism Blockers One Pound a Week Sliding Doors, Changing Waistlines

"You" Stories:

Feeding You in Public I Really Want You to Like Me My Food Is Your Food The Summer You Got Fat Why Do You Want Me to Feed You?! You Peaked in High School You Ruin Your Perfect Body Your Little Guy Your Wonderful Boyfriend

Two-Part Stories:

After the Fattening Fat Blind Date Fat Camp Reunion Giving In Hey, Chubs! The Hottest Guy in Town I'm Too Cold I'm Too Fat for My In-Laws The Lottery Winner Speedos

And here’s a bit about me:

I love writing about positive, supportive male couples who embrace the joys of gaining, feeding, encouraging, stuffing, and belly play. I don’t write about force-feeding (unless it’s consensual) or revenge fattening. I read those kinds of stories sometimes, but as a writer, I want to explore the healthier sides to gaining.

I find fat beautiful, so I kind of get lost in describing it sometimes. I love the sheer variety of plus-sized body types, so I try to reflect that in my stories. Not every fat guy is destined to grow a big, round beer gut (although those are great, of course).

I typically stay away from magical plots or instant weight gain. That usually doesn’t do it for me.

I will never use AI in my writing. I like creating these stories myself. (I have a day job as a full-time writer/editor, so this stuff is sort of a release for me.)

I try to be realistic with how quickly my characters gain, but sometimes I get a little ahead of myself and stretch reality. Just go with it.

I've started to publish some of these stories as ebooks. They will always be available for free on Tumblr, but one of my goals in life is to make gainer fiction more accepted in the literary world. We need to get more of this stuff out there. I don't expect gainer fiction to ever become mainstream, but there's no reason why it isn't as mainstream as, say, werewolf shifter erotica or other niche subgenres.

Probably not important, but I'm a redhead, so if you're wondering why there's an overrepresentation of red-haired characters in my stories, now you know.

I’m a gainer in my personal life, but I’m terrible at it. I always get up to about 210 or so and then chicken out. These stories are a way to help me process some of those feelings so that I can eventually have the confidence to keep going. We’ll see. (196 as of today!)

And I think that’s about it. Thanks so much for checking out my Tumblr! And happy eating!

[mehbles]

The weekend

A gaining story featuring @thiccboigains

The man sat back in his chair, his thick, expansive belly stretching out before him, a symbol of indulgence and satisfaction. His shirt, though sleeveless, clung tightly to his upper chest, unable to contain the fullness of his torso. His belly was truly massive, a soft, rounded mound that spilled forward with a rich, heavy weight. It rested on his lap, pressing outward with a softness that spoke of countless meals enjoyed and the life of pure relaxation he’d chosen.

As he shifted, his belly moved with him, the thick layer of fat rippling and settling, a natural cushion that surrounded him. His skin was marked with faint stretch marks, badges of honor from the growth he’d nurtured over time, and his navel sat deeply nestled in the center, almost hidden by the sheer size of his middle.

Above his belly, his chest mirrored the fullness of his frame, two generous mounds of soft flesh, almost like pillows, rounding out his shape. His chest was broad and full, the weight of his “moobs” pulling slightly downward, resting heavily on his belly when he relaxed. There was a solidity to his arms, too, a thickness from both muscle and fat that completed the picture—a body that had been fed well, taken care of, and encouraged to grow as big as he desired.

He seemed entirely comfortable in his body, each part of him showing the evidence of his journey toward pure mass and size. With each breath, his belly swelled slightly, a steady, powerful presence that filled the space around him.

The weekend began with a single goal in mind: complete, unrestrained indulgence. From the moment he woke up, he knew he wouldn’t be doing much moving. Why bother, when his mission was to stay seated, binge his favorite movies, and turn himself into a living monument to decadence?

The morning started slow, with a stack of syrup-soaked pancakes, a mountain of scrambled eggs, and the first of many gainer shakes, thick and heavy as it slid down his throat. Every mouthful seemed to trigger something inside him, a hunger for more that wouldn’t be sated easily. He let himself sink into the couch, his body settling comfortably, his belly pushing out even further as he slouched, fully embracing the journey he’d set himself on.

As the day went on, he barely moved, only shifting when it was time to bring more food to his already-full belly. Pizza, burgers, and fries came and went, each bite making his stomach swell a bit more, filling him with a pleasant ache. He could feel his belly stretching, the fat beneath his skin slowly firming up as he pushed his body to capacity. By early afternoon, his belly was no longer just a soft, jiggling mound—it felt denser, almost solid, pressing outwards with a satisfying heaviness. The stretch marks across his skin tingled as they strained to keep up with the expanding load, his body becoming a monument to excess.

Each time he stood to waddle over to the fridge, his body responded in kind. His belly swung with each step, a heavy, rhythmic jiggle that only emphasized how much mass he’d packed on. His chest, his “moobs,” followed suit, bouncing slightly with every movement, brushing softly against the upper curve of his belly. The weight of him was a new experience, every part of him pulled down by gravity, making even a short trip across the room feel like an event. By the time he made it back to the couch with his latest plate of snacks, his breathing was deep, labored, and his skin had a sheen of sweat that only made him feel more alive, more in tune with his body’s transformation.

By evening, he could hardly get up at all. He leaned back, almost trapped by the sheer weight of his belly pressing down onto his thighs. The final gainer shake of the night was thick, decadent, practically a meal on its own, but he powered through, feeling his heart beating heavily beneath layers of fat. Every pulse seemed louder, echoing in his ears as he realized just how much he’d grown, how much he’d indulged. His stomach was packed, a solid wall of fullness that left no room for anything else. Each deep breath pushed his belly out further, and he could feel the heaviness settle even more deeply, the fat around his middle feeling denser, solidifying as his body eagerly soaked in every last calorie.

He tried to stand one last time, but the effort was immense. His legs trembled slightly beneath him, his arms bracing himself as he rose, only to be pulled down by the weight of his belly. His heart raced, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath, feeling the weight of his massive frame bearing down on him. He sank back into the couch, his skin warm and slick with sweat, his entire body humming with the satisfaction of a day spent indulging to the limit. This was only the first day, and already he could feel the changes—the solid mass of his belly, the thicker layers of fat that clung to his frame, and the way each movement now came with a new, heavier rhythm.

The next morning, he awoke with a groan, every inch of his body feeling the effects of his indulgent day before. His belly was stretched, taut yet somehow even softer than before, and his limbs felt heavy, as if every ounce he’d consumed had seeped into his flesh overnight, adding new layers to his growing form. He glanced over at the clothes he’d picked out for the buffet—his biggest shirt and loosest jeans—hoping they’d manage to contain the fullness of his body for what he knew would be another day of indulgence.

As he pulled on his shirt, it was clear that even his largest size wasn’t up to the task. The fabric strained around his chest, hugging his thickened “moobs” and leaving no room to hide the roundness of his belly. The shirt barely covered him, riding up and exposing a soft band of flesh just above his waistband, which itself dug into his waist, cutting into the thick padding around his hips and stomach. Taking a few steps in front of the mirror, he could see the slight sway of his belly with every movement, a visual reminder of the added pounds he’d packed on, a new heft he could feel with each breath.

At the buffet, he was an imposing figure, his round belly leading the way as he filled up plate after plate. He was already full from the day before, but he ignored the protests of his stomach, driven by an insatiable urge to push his limits further. Plate after plate, he let himself indulge, savoring the weight of every bite as he piled on pasta, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and desserts of every kind.

With each trip back to his table, his overloaded belly jiggled and shifted, his exposed skin growing redder from the tightness of his clothes and the heat radiating from his overworked body. He could feel stares as he waddled from the buffet to his seat, his shirt riding up higher, exposing more of his overstuffed belly with every plate he carried. But he was too focused on his goal, too entranced by the sensation of filling himself up, to care.

As he finished his last plate, he felt a deep, almost overwhelming pressure settle in his middle. His belly was packed so tightly that he couldn’t even lean forward to reach his drink without feeling an intense strain across his abdomen. He leaned back, letting his belly swell forward, a massive, rounded weight that now dominated his entire torso. His breathing came in shallow, labored breaths, each one pressing his belly up against the edge of the table.

When it was finally time to leave, he knew standing was going to be a monumental task. Slowly, he pushed himself up, feeling his belly shift with a dense, almost solid weight as it hung heavily over the waistband of his jeans, which now felt like they were cutting into his sides. His legs felt weak, his thighs rubbing together as he stood, the mass of his belly swaying forward and making each step feel like an effort in itself. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his heart pounded, each beat a reminder of the load he was carrying.

Walking out of the restaurant was an ordeal. Each step sent a slight jiggle through his flab, his swollen belly pressing down on his legs and swaying from side to side, leaving him breathless and flushed. By the time he reached his car, he was almost gasping, his entire body worn out from the sheer exertion of holding up so much weight. He sank into the driver’s seat, his belly pressing into the steering wheel, trapping him in place. The warmth of his bloated body, the slight pain from the waistband digging in, and the heaviness of his stomach left him utterly exhausted, yet strangely content.

It was a sensation unlike anything he’d felt before—a fullness that left him nearly immobile, a new level of mass that had transformed even simple movements into monumental tasks. And as he sat there, breathing heavily, every inch of him feeling the day’s indulgence, he knew he’d reached a new threshold, one that left him utterly spent, yet hungry for more.

Settling back at home, he knew the buffet was only the beginning of what would be an afternoon of relentless indulgence. His belly was already taut, the skin stretched and tender from the monumental feast, but he wasn’t finished—not by a long shot. He eyed the case of Boost VHC, each bottle packed with calories, each one promising to push him further into the depths of fullness. Next to it, three large pizzas lay waiting, each slice an invitation to push past his limits.

He popped open the first bottle of Boost, the thick, creamy liquid sliding down his throat and landing heavily in his already bloated belly. Despite the fullness that pressed against his skin, there was something exhilarating about pushing himself even further. One bottle after another, he guzzled down the shakes, feeling his belly grow firmer, the fat beneath his skin solidifying as he packed himself tighter and tighter. With each bottle, his breathing grew more labored, each inhale a little shallower, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his belly.

By the time he’d worked his way through half the case, he could barely shift on the couch without feeling the strain in his overstuffed abdomen. His belly felt like a massive, heavy ball, pressing down on his thighs, thick and rounded, with the slightest hint of jiggle beneath its firm surface. His shirt, now completely rolled up to expose his swollen middle, offered no hope of coverage, leaving his belly free to press forward as he reached for the first pizza.

Each slice was a new challenge, each bite forcing him to confront the sheer enormity of what he was doing. He felt his belly stretch, pushing against the limits of what it could hold, his skin pulling tight as his stomach expanded to accommodate every calorie. Despite the intense fullness, he found a rhythm, one slice after another, his hands moving on autopilot as he devoured the entire first pizza. Then he moved on to the second, feeling his belly harden, almost like a drum, solid yet quivering slightly as he shifted, the weight of his consumption settling deep within him.

By the time he reached the third pizza, he was beyond stuffed—his belly was a mountain of fullness, pushing out so far that he could barely see past it. His arms and legs felt heavy, his whole body sluggish from the weight he’d forced upon himself. Each bite of pizza felt like an effort, his jaw working slowly, his body now resistant to any more food. But he pushed through, bite after bite, determined to finish what he’d started.

When the last slice was gone, he leaned back, his head resting against the back of the couch, his entire torso dominated by the sheer mass of his belly. He could feel it throbbing, each beat of his heart echoing within the dense, packed mound of flesh. His breathing was shallow, his chest struggling to rise against the pressure of his swollen stomach. He felt trapped beneath his own weight, barely able to move, every part of him weighed down by the excess he’d consumed.

Standing was out of the question—he could barely even shift his weight without feeling the strain. His belly was so full that it pressed down on his lap, sprawling outward with a firmness that felt almost unbreakable. His whole body was slick with sweat, the exertion of eating and drinking himself into this state leaving him flushed and overheated.

As the afternoon wore on, he remained in place, unable to move, a monument to indulgence and excess. The solid weight of his belly, the dense layers of fat pressing outward, left him in a haze of satisfaction and exhaustion. He was completely, utterly spent, his body filled to its absolute capacity, and all he could do was sit back, feel the heaviness settle, and bask in the blissful agony of reaching his limit.

After the weekend of absolute indulgence, by Monday morning, he’d tipped the scales at a staggering 397 pounds—an incredible 12-pound gain in just over two days. His body had ballooned over the weekend, each meal and gainer shake forcing his frame to adapt and stretch to accommodate the sudden influx of calories. His belly was visibly larger, a dense, round mound that pressed out even further than before, and his clothes felt tighter, clinging to every new inch of him.

But the changes didn’t stop there. His body needed time to fully absorb the surplus of calories he’d packed in, and as the week progressed, the transformation continued. By the following Friday, his weight had surged up again, reaching a solid 403 pounds—a full 18 pounds more than where he’d started just a week earlier.

Each day, he could feel his body adapting to the new weight. His belly grew softer, settling into a heavier, more defined shape, the fat redistributing and solidifying in layers across his midsection, chest, and thighs. His belly jutted forward even when he sat, now a constant, unyielding presence, and his chest felt heavier, his “moobs” hanging lower, with more bounce and heft with every movement. His legs and arms also thickened, his body catching up to the sheer volume he’d forced upon it, each part of him filling out to balance the new weight.

By the end of the week, he’d fully embraced his expanded form, feeling every new pound in the sway of his belly, the heft of his steps, and the comfortable weight that now defined him. His weekend of indulgence had set off a transformation, one that left him visibly larger, heavier, and contentedly settled into his new, plush reality.

Stepping into the gym, he immediately felt the difference. At over 400 pounds, every movement carried a new weight, a heaviness he hadn’t fully anticipated. Just walking from the entrance to the locker room left him slightly breathless, his belly bouncing and swaying with each step, pressing heavily against his shirt, which barely stretched over the roundness of his middle. His thickened thighs rubbed together as he walked, and even before starting, he could feel the warmth building up, a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

After changing, he made his way to the treadmill for a warm-up. He chose a slower pace than usual, knowing his expanded body wasn’t ready for anything too strenuous. As he stepped onto the belt and began moving, he could feel the weight of his belly pulling him forward slightly with each step, his balance shifting to accommodate the mass pressing out from his core. The jiggling sensation was constant, his belly and chest bouncing gently, a reminder of just how much softer and heavier he’d become. After just a few minutes, he was breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest, each step a small feat.

Moving on to weights, he selected a bench and sat down, feeling the firmness of his belly pressing into his thighs as he leaned back. With each lift, he could feel the strain, his arms thick with both muscle and fat, each repetition taking more out of him than before. His belly shifted with every movement, a dense, unavoidable presence that made him aware of his size with every lift and breath. The extra fat on his arms and chest made the motions more challenging; even gripping the weights felt different, his hands and wrists thickened with the extra padding he’d gained.

Next, he tried the seated leg press, carefully adjusting himself to fit, his belly pressing against his knees. Each push was an effort, his legs burning with the strain of lifting not only the weights but the additional pounds he now carried. The familiar jiggle of his flab added a new sensation to each rep, his thighs and belly trembling as he worked through each push. He could feel his breath quicken, a slight tremor in his legs as he realized how much harder this routine had become.

Finally, he tried some stretches and basic core exercises, but even leaning forward was a task, his belly pressing into his legs, limiting his range of motion. Sitting up felt like an effort in itself, and each twist or turn made him acutely aware of the mass he’d accumulated. His body felt heavy and sluggish, the layers of fat resisting each stretch, creating a tension that left him flushed and warm, even from minimal exertion.

After an hour, he was completely spent, his shirt damp with sweat, clinging to the new contours of his body. The workout had left him exhausted in a way he hadn’t felt before, his expanded frame requiring twice the effort for every movement. As he walked out of the gym, breathing deeply, feeling the weight of his belly and chest pulling him down with each step, he knew that every workout would be different now, his body transformed by his recent indulgence. But there was a certain pride in it, a sense of satisfaction in every new jiggle, every heavy breath, knowing he was carrying the weight of his journey with him.

[bellychaser57]

Gainer boyfriend

By anon

I met him on a dating app. Our first date was at this restaurant known to serve big portions of food. When I arrived at the restaurant he told me he was waiting for me inside. So I came in and saw that a lot of the costumers were bigger people. I also noticed the waitors and waitresses where very handsome and pretty. I mostly notice the big muscular biceps all the waitors seemed to have and their tight pants showing off muscular things and jiggly booty. That's when I saw him, this cute cub seated in a booth. he's belly was gently pressing the table, not enough for the table to be in his gut though. He had perky moobs and big arms. When he saw me, he tried to get out of his booth. He stood up beside me. Slightly taller, he had a wide butt, and thick thighs that looked muscular, but probably weren't. We hugged, I accidentally grabbed his love handles which were nice and soft. We ordered our food, I didn't know what to take so I took a sub, he took 2 chicken pitas. I told him I did appreciate a man with an appetite, and that he looked like having a big one. He was flattered. He told me he was a gainer, and that he didn't really eat as much as he wanted to to gain even more. He wants to become a 400lbs chub. That money is currently an issue for him to achieve his dream goal. I told him I could be interested in helping out as I could. He could move into my apartment, I can already pay rent and my own stuff, he just needed to find a way so that he could bring in some money, all of which would go to him eating if he wanted. He thought it was a good idea but he wanted to wait until he did have a steady income. Months go by, I often offer to pay him all you can eat buffets, but not frequently enough to make a difference on his weight. Every time we went, we always had a great time, talking, eating and catching up with eachother like friends would. On one of these evenings, he announced that he now had a steady income. He did live streams on Twitch of him playing games and eating. He also told me he started an onlyfans and for now, he had enough daily to just eat his profit. I was overjoyed for him!

In the next few weeks, he started moving in, we turned the spare bedroom into his streaming studio and every night, after his streams we would go grocery shopping for his next day binge. In the matter of time, his weight started rising, and rising. His belly got bigger. So did his moobs, arms and already thick thighs. He became softer and softer each week. I started by messing around and trying to lift him at first, always somewhat succeeding, and noticing he was getting heavier each time. I quickly had to stop, my spine was going to break. I would, at least once a day surprise him with a sugary treat when I came back from work. A box or two of donuts, a cake I bought at the grocery store. On weekends I would bake my special cookies. Oats and chocolate chip. Eating two was filling for me, he would eat the 22 others. I would also make extra buttery rice crispy treats, cakes and other desserts. He thought I let him eat the left over icing, little did he know, I whipped up a batch just to see his eyes light up with joy every time. I really liked seeing him happy and eating everything I set in front of him. At supper time, I would cook a meal for a family of 4. Would myself one portion and he would eat the rest. It always impressed me. Eventually, we had to ditch my double bed and go for a king size. He was getting massive and wide. I liked when he squashed me accidentally with his weight. I think at first it was accidental, but by now he's getting a little fun out of watching me be happy. I really like to explore his growing body by pining him to his back and giving him full body massages.

Living with my gainer boyfriend is bliss!

[aspiffygoat]

hmm... I think for starters, keeping plenty of snacks available around the house for convenient munching and encouragement to eat just that little bit more each day, on top of rich, hearty meals to make sure you're making the most of your stomach capacity each day... Then once your stomach capacity's expanded a bit, Upgrade those snacks to get further and further to something you wouldn't initially eat in one sitting. One cookie turns to a plate of cookies, turns you a slice of cake, working you up to casually working in a whole cake or so between meals. Mix of sweet and savory of course, wouldn't want to make eating dull if our goal is to make it your new hobby~ Of course with all that food around I'd reckon you'd feel less inclined to go out for meals, especially when I could just conveniently grab whatever you're craving so you can focus on sitting on the couch and outgrowing your clothes like a good not-so-little goat Then once you get too fat to fit through the door? Then we can get to the real fun...

A plate of food always within arm's reach, never an idle moment where you're not chewing on *something* absentmindedly from sheer convenience while working on something else, playing games, you name it. Now that you don't Have too many reasons left to get up from the couch, I doubt you'll take long to get too fat to leave it~ Then one day, unsurprising to us both, you'll get too fat to walk with those useless fat columns of rolls that used to be legs, stand beneath the weight of a belly that always kisses the floor, or even feed yourself with those lard-laden pillow arms of yours, even when I place plates upon plates of lovingly-made food atop your swollen, shirt-shredding moobs... Then the real doting begins... Lounging atop your mass, bringing morsels to your eager lips one by one, watching as you helplessly suck down whatever is offered as I caress your fattened cheeks and chins... growing wider and wider... ...Probably about then (or at least whenever I grow impatient for you to fill the house and break its walls with your flab) will be when you'll be ready to be put on the feeding hose~ How's that sound~?

feajlwadmlkwajdakljfealfmeklwdajklwda i think that sounds pretty neat.........

[jkiddfat19]

Repeat these phrases below to get extremely fat and lock your brain into the idea you are now finally doing what you were born to do....use these daily and use them anytime anywhere.

I AM FULLY FOOD FOCUSED. I AM GROWING SOFT FAT AND MASSIVE. I LOVE BEING SUPER FAT. I LOVE GAINING WEIGHT. I LOVE GETTING FED. I LOVE GETTING STUFFED. I AM GETTING FATTER. I AM GROWING A HUGE FAT GUT. I AM GROWING A HUGE FAT ASS. I AM GROWING HUGE SOFT MOOBS/TITS. MY BODY IS GETTING PLUMPED AND SOFTER. MY BODY IS STACKING FAT. MY BODY IS GETTING WOBBLY AND JIGGLY. MY HIPS N THIGHS ARE GROWING SO WIDE SOFT N FAT. I LOVE THE WAY I LOOK AND FEEL. I WILL USE HYONOSIS TO HELP ME GAIN MORE WEIGHT. I ACCEPT ALL MESSAGES FROM POSITIVE FEEDEE SUBLIMINALS. I AM A GROWING VESSEL FOR MY FATTENING SOUL. I ACCEPT THE FACT THAT THIS IS NOW MY FATE. I WILL DO MORE HUGE FEEDEE STUFFINGS. I WILL GAIN MORE N MORE WEIGHT. I WILL FUNNEL FATTENING GAINER SHAKES EVERY SINGLE DAY. I WILL BE A GOOD FAT PIGGY. I WILL OBEY MY FEEDEE TEMPTATIONS. I WILL BE A MINDLESS PIGGY SUB. I OBEY MY FEEDEE DREAMS MY GOALS AND GLUTTONOUS FANTASIES. IM A DEVOTED PROUD PIGGY SLUT. I AM BECOMING EXTREMELY DOCILE. I AM GETTING REALLY DUMB. I AM USING THESE POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS DAILY. I HAPPILY GAINING MORE AND MORE WEIGHT. I AM USING CREATIVE VISUALIZATION TO CONNECT FOOD WITH PLEASURE. I VISUALIZE MYSELF EATING AS I RUB OR STROKE MY LOVE. I AM CREATING A BRAND NEW CIRCUIT FOR THESE POWER PHRASES. I AM A MINDLESS HORNY FEEDEE FUCK. I AM GROWING BIGGER SOFTER FATTER DAILY THIS IS WHAT I LOVE. I CREATE THIS SPACE TO CELEBRATE LOVE FOR WHO I AM. I KEEP MYSELF PROTECTED FROM ALL NEGATIVITY BY REPEATING THESE DAILY. I AM MY OWN CREATOR OF PURE GENUINE PEACE N LOVE. JAH BLESS US ALL

✌️ ❤️ 🍩

[fayamn-moonlit]

Would you only trans a… “guest”… if it was to transfem someone?

Or would you transmac someone as well and watch them go from having boobs to moobs?

(I’m genuinely curious, seeing as I’m on the same side as you but more into taking someone from what they want to the opposite, especially if they’re my pet. No matter how exotic my pets are. Makes me twitch to think about taking a pretty little bimbo with an hourglass figure and making “her” into a soft boi.)

If I have the power to trans up people with fattening too it would be my pleasure and duty to do it in any direction for any end goal.

Bimbos to soft bois, fit dudes to cute sows, human to [insert gender here]

Boobs and moobs and fat chests ftw

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

<a href="https://tight-stories.tumblr.com/" style="text-decoration:underline;">tight-stories</a>: <p>Hey bro! I wanna be a proper nasty pig of a man...but now im a gainer in real life I just want more. Nasty socks and stinking armpits. A beer gut, bald head and a beard! Whatever ya wanna do as long as it gets me closer to the pig I am innit ;) </p><p><br></p><figure class="tmblr-full" data-orig-height="960" data-orig-width="720"><img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/1ccbce0c55257ab62a43dd70bf35a954/fb137d23fc37589f-82/s640x960/78efc959b16f857b4c1fe2fa5f876511679be40c.jpg" data-orig-height="960" data-orig-width="720"></figure>

Now that is something I can definitely do for you. Anything to bring you closer to your ultimate pig status is going to be done. I questioned your dedication to this only once but then you were so adamant about your goals. And everything was sealed when you said “I’m a nasty fat fucking pig” while sitting on my couch. Sweat began to bead down your chest and from pits as you instantly smelt of bo. It’s as if you haven’t showered in weeks. Your work clothes never being cleaned as they dirty themselves beyond belief. Your socks get crusty and yellow from never being changed and being the only pair you own. “Well…is that all you’re going to do? Come on meet going ..” I encouraged you. You got up from the couch and I gagged at the horrible smell coming from you. You chuckled proud of the smell that you had stuck yourself with. Everything about you was soo dirty now. “I am completely bald and I have a beard !” And instantly as you said the words they became true. You hair falling from your head in clumps leaving a shiny dome while you started to scratch at your face as a thick beard started to grow. “You’re starting to look like a proper filth pig. But you’re still missing something…” and I dropped my eyes to your stomach where you were still as slim as before. As if the light bulb hours off i your head you put both your hands on you stomach “I have a massive beach ball beer belly. That’s rock hard and limits my movements. I’m a nasty fat fucking oinker !” This time the change brings you to your knees and your breathing becomes more labored. Each breathe you take seeming to make your gut get bigger. You have to lean back against the wall while sitting down. Moaning in ecstasy while your most recent affirmation forces a massive beach ball beer belly into your frame. Rock solid. A thick double chin forms as your neck slowly disappears ears and you develop moobs that rest on the massive gut you just gave yourself. Your nose points up into a human like snout. Breathing now sounds like pig noises for the fat fucking pig you are. When your gut has finish expanding you struggle to your feet. Instantly hard as you wished for every bit of this. Being limited by your new size.

Just standing it’s obvious you’re gotten shorter from massive gut you now have pulling you down. Your shoes split open on the side as your feet have gotten extra wide from the massive weight constantly on them. “You know what filthy fucking pigs already feel ?” I ask. “I AM ALWAYS HUNGRY!” You shout. Loud groans from your enormous gut could be heard. You’ll always be stuffing yourself stupid now like the pig you are. Never full. Always large. Constantly stinking. You sit down at the table and the seat groans as you pick up a gallon of whole milk and begin to chug it. Rubbing your massive gut I just smile. “That’s a good pig. Now what else are we going to do to you?”

March 13th, 2022 9:13pm

[incrementumxmaxima]

@versalpha

Eden Lloyd was a powerful man; a renowned man who's name in the business world was synonymous and equitable to success and fortune. A man to please all, he was the face of the American Dream to those who wanted to become entrepreneurs like him and, for those of old money, he came across as having his head screwed on enough to make real waves in any scene he inserted himself into. His reputation was something of a behemoth, complete with the man to match it.

Civilians saw the muscled man with a sharp jawline, handsome and the eye of multiple beholders. Lovers saw his gargantuan cock, big balls and an ass like no other, always thanking the lord that he was, by some miracle, versatile and open to any and all parts of him being worshipped. Eden loved it that, no matter the scenario, people knew when he was present and fawned over him incessantly, both silently and verbally appreciating his muscles and physique.

Once upon a time, however, Eden had wanted a very different body for himself. Now fully entrenched and in love with his Adonian body he had crafted, long ago he had wanted to be the antithesis instead; a man with a huge gut, moobs instead of pecs and gluttony and hedonism ruling his life over moderation and strictness. Trying to gain under the pretence of a dirty bulk had worked well for a few months before Eden had decided that it firmly wasn't for him. Since that day, he shifted his focus towards feeding men and letting them realise their dreams of being huge, helping them every step of the way to make it a reality. And, for a long time, it satiated him - until it didn't.

It'd been a month since he had put up the ad on a sugar baby website. It was simple, straight to the point and didn't hide or conceal his expectations out of the arrangement. Simply put, instead of company and sex in exchange for money, all Eden wanted was a young man to fatten. His own personal project, he had called it in the advertisement, the next step from what he had been doing before; helping already big guys had lost its touch and, now, he wanted to ruin a college jock. Sex wasn't off the table, but was merely an added perk for pounds well gained.

Luca had responded to the advertisement fairly quickly, indicating an interest under some hesitations. Through their conversations on the advertisement app, Eden had learnt that the idea fascinated Luca but an actual commitment to it was something he was still on the fence about. To remedy it, Eden had begun giving him half of the weekly allowance he'd be entitled to when the full conditions of the arrangement began under the pretence of giving the younger boy some time to come to a decision. In the mean time, the two could (and had) met and interacted, defiling various places close to Eden, all culminating in a meeting in a small, private café near Eden's home. It was there that Luca would give final decision and, if deciding to go for it, discuss with Eden an initial goal weight. Seeing as Luca hadn't shied away so far, Eden was cautiously optimistic.

The high-end café that he had chosen to meet at was just busy enough where their conversation was discreet but still empty enough to give allowance for Eden to initiate anything if he so chose to. Having gotten there earlier than Luca, he lounged around and nursed a black coffee until the younger boy finally took his place in front of him. Though they had met before, Eden still found himself entranced by Luca's natural boyish charm.

"Good to see you," He said, smiling, the natural charm and charisma oozing out of him. "College going well?"

[fatyote]

This might be a stupid question, but at what size did you start feeling comfortable being shirtless as a man? I feel like my chest looks similar to yours, but I'm much much muuch smaller lol and I always feel like my chest is too big to pass as male. Weight gain has not been working great for me, but I'm hoping to take the route you did and get fat enough that I don't need too surgery, so I wanted to know at what size it started to feel natural for you

I'll be honest, I still usually bind when I leave the house. I can probably pass without it, but I've been binding full time in public for going on 15 years now so it's a hard habit to break. I've been pushing my boundaries with it more and more though lately, with the goal of giving up binding entirely eventually.

I can't remember the exact weight/size/etc when I started passing more with my chest. I think it's been 50/50 weight gain as well as just gradual fat redistrubution from T. My chest was fairly masculine and 'moob-shaped' to begin with, and it's changed shape a lot from 11+ years of T as well.

As far as being comfortable shirtless in photos/in semi-private settings/etc, I think it's been more of an exposure thing than a weight thing. Sure, I've definitely started looking more proportional as my belly's gotten bigger and that's helped, but I don't think that was the driving force. Honestly, posting my shirtless pics online has massively helped with my confidence over time. Also, weirdly, being friends with other fat men who are very comfortable shirtless has helped as well. (I recently went to a "belly" room party at a con, where it was mostly a number of us fat shirtless guys hanging out and getting belly attention. Man did that destroy any of my lingering discomfort in a lot of ways, haha.)

This goes without being said, but a lot of it's just going to be in how you gain the pounds, not just how many you gain. I've always been somewhat bottom/belly heavy, so my chest hasn't grown *as* much as other aspects of my body and so my weight gain just evened me out. I will caution that it may or may not be the same for you and that gaining isn't always a good alternative to top surgery (but I hope it works out for you!)

Tl;dr: I'm not as comfortable shirtless in public as it may seem, and when it comes to pics/semi-private settings/etc a lot of it's been exposure on top of getting lucky with how my body evened out with weight over the years. YMMV.

[confused-canid]

Ngl I don't think I want top surgery. I want to go on T and get bottom surgery and look like a big hairy man but with big ass moobs. I also want a mullet and socks with sandals and a baseball cap. Basically my grandpa. He's transition goals. I need to be like him he's so awesome