#slob

[berrybundtcake0909]

⚠️⚠️ this one gets pretty gross 🥰

i want to hear you.

i want to hear the destruction of your body happening in real time.

-groaning because your gut is so swollen and stretched tight, yet you can’t stop lifting more junk up to your lips

-disgusting gurgles and bubbles coming from that hanging belly as it desperately attempts to churn through all of that fucking garbage

-loud snores in the middle of the day, from your ruined sleep schedule because your body is spending so much energy on digesting so many processed calories, you can barely stay awake, especially after uncontrollable stuffing yourself helpless again.

-heavy creaks in the floor boards every time you take a step so i always know where my pig is (though you rarely fucking leave the room) and groans from the couches and chairs you sit on to serve as a reminder that your indulgence and dedication to unrestrained gluttony is getting in the way of the simple, normal things you do

-crude wet slapping sounds from all of the gooning you do, day in and day out, constantly with your hand in those awfully stained underwear; your hand and arm, loudly making contact with the soft (or firm) fat, smothering every part of your body

-whorish moans from all the porn you watch, of course: all of the sounds listed here, being shamelessly blaster from your speakers once you get to the point where you can only get off to gainer porn

-disgusting belches that sound deep and relieving, allowing you to taste the slop that you couldn’t help but keep forcing down, even when your gut begged you to stop. burps, so loud and so long, that your eyes roll back and your arousal begins to coat the aforementioned stained underwear. but it’s not your fault, all that beer and sugary soda does a number on an already gassy pigs stuffed belly.

-bubbly farts that sound greasy and wet, the smell clearly announcing all of the damage you did to that poor gut when you chose greed and gluttony over comfort. cringing as they get wetter and wetter, trying to make yourself care enough to get up and relieve your packed tank, but you’re so fucking full, and sooo fucking lazy, that you convince yourself it’s okay if those underwear end up covered in a few more stains

-and obviously, countless moans and whines as you expel all of that gas and rub that sick little tummy ache away so you can immediately fill it up with more fattening grease and lard

honorable grosser mention:

-grunts and whines, echoing off the bathroom walls as you pump all that garbage out from that sick belly into the toilet, belching miserably as you try and rub it all out. that junk food just makes it so hard to have healthy bowel movements :( hearing several large plops before satisfied sighs as you waddle back to the kitchen afterwards (most likely without flushing) to go and fill yourself right back up, and start the whole process all over again.

tldr- i really love loud and shameless slobs

[jawwtin-gets-gassy]

Denim always feels wonderful to blast some gas in, and I have seriously been punishing these jeans today.

This denim would also feel so good brushed up against your face, as you push yourself close to my ass to breathe all these in 😏💨

[lexithevalkyrie]

Bad habits // slob

your transformation began slowly. It started with harmless late-night snacking after some working out. After a while those snacks became whole meals, you were becoming sluggish during workouts as well, soon the time at the gym were replaced with nights out eating until you were full; soon you just stopped going altogether. that is when your late-night eating started catching up…..

your muscles stared receding, your stomach beginning to budge with each additional month before you even realized it, you gained 20lbs. but, you couldn't put down the fork no matter how hard you tried. 20lbs became 30, then 40, and eventually 50 lbs. you started noticing your normal everyday activities became more exhausting, coming back from a long day of work made you want to just sit down on the couch and do nothing but snack on food. 100lbs later you've really started to balloon, your clothes are 2 sizes too small but you couldn't even care about it.

you've really turned into a hog~

[weirdfattygirl]

sometimes, my fat piggy gut is in the way when i'm washing dishes... found out that it is so much easier to just plop my lard into the sink! 🐷💞

[hq-erotic-hypnosis]

A Classic, Hypnosis for Feedees: Disgusting Porker

This is a hypnosis track the encourages weight gain, but includes a fair amount of teasing.

It lets the listener lose all of the inhibitions about gaining, belching, farting, overeating, and generally acting like a pig. You will learn to love the slob you are becoming.

[maybealilbelly]

Yes, dear, you should have another bite and drink some beer. It doesn't matter that it happens in the morning and the "slice" is the third pizza in the last hour, and the beer is the fifth.

Do you feel like you don't have the strength? Oh, well, it's probably because you don't eat enough, that's why you feel so tired and sluggish.

Do you have a tummy ache? Of course, because these pants put so much pressure on him, they probably sat in the wash, take them off and don't worry about anything!

Yes, maybe you've been walking a little less than usual lately (from bed to chair, barely lifting your body) and drinking a little more than usual (I haven't seen you sober in a week, and burping and the smell of beer have already become an integral part of you). Yes, our food bills have probably increased several times (you chew something almost constantly, even when your stomach is obviously swollen and red from exertion). Maybe things have become a little tight (your stomach is sticking out from under every T-shirt, red from stretch marks, constantly rumbling, no pants are buttoned on your hips, and your breasts have been falling out of your bras for a long time). And there's probably a little less sex (you're only interested in food, so I'll serve you while you overeat into a food coma). And yes, you may have lost a little intelligence (you grunt in an attempt to say a few phrases, among which are only complaints about the small amount of food and a request to stroke your belly)

But you're just spoiling yourself a little!

Why don't you continue this, my fat girl?

[daddyslandwhale]

This one goes out to the new followers 🐷💖

We've already surpassed 100 followers in a week. Thank you very much little pigs for welcoming me so well ☺️🐷🥤

[squishy-strawberry]

Poking and playing with my round belly on Fansly!

If there's ever any squish to my belly, that means I'm not full enough. Gotta push myself further so I can keep getting fatter 🩷

[fattystoriez]

Preston’s 18th Birthday Pt.2

Content Warning: Homophobic Slurs, Forced Weight Gain

The truck pulled into the driveway of the house Preston once called home. The suburban front lawn, perfectly trimmed and pristine, was a far cry from the trailer park slum they had just left. But something inside Preston had changed—he didn’t see this place the same way anymore. It felt sterile, clean to the point of being suffocating. He couldn’t wait to see how his daddies would look rolling around in filth.

“Alright, boy. Time to split up,” Travis rumbled as he killed the engine. His deep Southern drawl oozed with pride as he smacked Preston’s fat jiggly belly. "I’ll take care of one faggot, you take the other.”

Preston nodded as they exited the truck, his bloated body spilling out of his too-tight gym shorts and stained t-shirt. His skin glistened with sweat from the short walk to the house, but he didn’t care—he liked the feeling now. The stench of Travis’s trailer was all over him, a rancid musk that filled his nostrils and made his fat cock throb in his soaked briefs. He knew it would only get worse from here.

He waddled inside, his gut leading the way, leaving Travis to deal with one of his dads in the living room. Preston had his sights set on Vince, his adoptive father, who was always in the kitchen around this time. Preston’s belly jiggled with every step, the weight of his transformation settling into his bones like it had always been there. The trailer park had changed him, but the change wasn't done.

He pushed open the kitchen door to see Vince standing by the counter, tapping on his phone. The sight of his dad made Preston’s stomach growl, not from hunger, but from the anticipation of what was about to happen. Vince looked pristine, dressed in his usual light blue suit and pink button-down, looking like he was ready to entertain guests. His soft jawline and graying hair gave him an air of sophistication, the kind of gay dad who thrived on dinner parties and keeping up appearances.

But Vince didn’t know what was coming for him.

“Preston?! Oh my God… Preston, what happened to you? We need to get you to a hospital—”

Before Vince could finish the thought, his phone was ripped from his hand, and Preston slammed it down on the counter. “No need for that, Daddy Vince,” Preston growled, his voice thick with the same Southern drawl as Travis. “I’m feelin’ better than ever.”

The musk rolling off Preston’s body hit Vince like a brick wall. It was vile, a disgusting stench that made his eyes water and his stomach churn. But something about it was… intoxicating. Vince’s hand trembled as he tried to reach for the phone again, but Preston was quicker, his fat fingers gripping the back of Vince’s neck and pushing him toward the counter.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Daddy,” Preston whispered into Vince’s ear. “You’re gonna join me… just like I did with Travis.”

Vince struggled, but his body felt weak against Preston’s growing strength. His mind was hazy from the overpowering stink his son was giving off. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. Preston had been a jock—a fit, handsome boy with the world at his feet. And now… now he was this bloated, slobbering pig.

Preston’s hand reached for the tray of cupcakes that were meant for his birthday party, the colorful frosting catching Vince’s eye for just a second before Preston shoved one into his mouth.

“Mmmph!” Vince tried to protest, but Preston’s grip was too strong. The cupcake forced its way down his throat, the sugary sweetness filling his mouth. He couldn’t stop chewing, even though his mind screamed at him to fight back.

“That’s it, Daddy… eat up,” Preston said with a cruel grin, his fat fingers grabbing another cupcake and shoving it into Vince’s mouth. “Time for you to join the family tradition.”

As Vince choked down the cupcakes, something started to shift. His body betrayed him as his flat stomach began to bloat, the buttons on his pink shirt straining under the sudden pressure. His smooth skin rippled as fat began to accumulate, his once slightly defined chest turning into sagging moobs that jiggled with every forced bite.

“N-No… Preston, stop… I don’t—” Vince’s voice was barely a whimper as another cupcake was shoved into his mouth.

Preston was relentless, forcing more and more cupcakes down his adoptive father’s throat. Vince’s belly swelled, his love handles spilling over the waistband of his suit pants. His soft jawline puffed up, turning into a thick double chin that wobbled with every chew. His perfectly tailored pants ripped at the seams as his ass grew into a sagging mound of fat, jiggling obscenely as he tried to squirm away from his son’s grip.

“Look at you, Daddy Vince,” Preston taunted, ripping off his dad’s suit jacket and throwing it to the floor. “You’re becoming just like me. A fat, stinkin’ slob.”

The buttons on Vince’s pink shirt finally gave way, popping off and flying across the kitchen as his swollen belly pushed forward. His gut was huge now, soft and jiggling with every movement. His bulge, once noticeable in his tight pants, had shrunk into a pathetic nub, barely a bump under the layers of fat that had taken over his body.

Vince’s mind was slipping. The more Preston force-fed him, the harder it was to think. His once clear mind was clouded by the overpowering stench of his son’s musk, and the sensation of his body swelling with fat. He could feel himself changing—his mind dulling, his desires shifting. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

“F-Fuck…” Vince muttered, his voice barely a slurred whisper as he leaned back against the counter, his now enormous belly resting on his thighs. “I… I feel so… disgusting…”

Preston grinned, grabbing one last cupcake and shoving it into Vince’s mouth. “That’s the point, Daddy. You’re one of us now.”

Vince moaned, his fat body trembling as he finished the cupcake, crumbs falling into the deep creases of his belly. His once clean and pristine self was gone, replaced by a bloated, stinking slob. His body was covered in sweat, the smell of his own filth mixing with Preston’s musk.

Preston stood back, admiring his handiwork. Vince was unrecognizable, a far cry from the polished, sophisticated man he’d once been. Now, he was just another fat, greasy pig.

“Welcome to the family, Daddy,” Preston said with a sneer. “My real daddy is taking care of Daddy Brent."

Travis lumbered up the stairs, each step creaking under his massive weight. The air of sophistication and cleanliness of the house made his skin crawl. It was far too pristine, too perfect—nothing like the life he and Preston were now embracing. The putrid stench of his own body clung to him, a walking reminder of the filth he reveled in, and he couldn’t wait to share it with Brent, Preston’s other adoptive father.

He reached the top of the stairs and paused, catching sight of the bedroom door left slightly ajar. From inside, he could hear the sound of music softly playing, and the faint scent of cologne wafted into the hallway. Travis grinned—this was going to be fun.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room, his massive bulk filling the space as his eyes landed on Brent. The man was standing in front of a mirror, adjusting his shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his muscular, hairy chest. Brent was the polar opposite of Vince—where Vince was soft and well-dressed, Brent was a picture of rugged masculinity, with his bald head, thick beard, and toned body.

Brent turned around, startled by the intrusion. His sharp jawline tensed as he took in the sight of the hulking, sweaty man who had just entered his room.

“Who the hell are you?” Brent demanded, his voice firm, but there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t recognize the grotesque man standing before him, but something about him seemed eerily familiar. Before Brent could press further, Travis let out a loud, wet fart that echoed through the room like a thunderclap.

The stench was instantaneous, a vile cloud of filth that filled the air and overwhelmed Brent’s senses. His eyes watered, and he gagged, stumbling back onto the bed in shock.

“Jesus Christ… what the fuck is wrong with you?!” Brent gasped, his hands going to his nose as if that could block out the rancid smell. But it was no use. The stench clung to everything, and the room felt like it was closing in on him.

Travis chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made Brent’s skin crawl. “You’re ‘bout to find out, boy,” he said, stepping closer to the bed. “This is what happens when you’re part of our family.”

Brent’s head was spinning, the overwhelming odor and the dizzying sense of something being terribly wrong gnawing at him. His muscular chest rose and fell as he struggled to catch his breath, but his strength was fading. It was like the air itself was thick with poison, draining him of his will to resist.

Travis loomed over Brent, placing his massive, sweaty hands on the man’s broad shoulders. “Relax, big guy,” he growled, his voice dripping with smugness. “You’re gonna love this.”

Brent tried to pull away, but his body wasn’t responding the way it should. The dizziness was growing worse, and the feel of Travis’s hands on his skin made his body tingle with an odd sensation he couldn’t shake. Travis began massaging Brent’s shoulders, kneading the muscles with an unexpected gentleness, though the stink radiating off him never let up.

With every movement of Travis’s hands, Brent could feel his body changing. The definition in his abs, which he had worked so hard to maintain, began to soften, the firm ridges giving way to a layer of fat that bloated his once-toned stomach. His hairy chest, which had been one of his proudest features, began to sag, the muscles turning into soft, jiggling moobs that rested heavily against his torso.

“W-What… the fuck…?” Brent groaned, his voice trembling as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him. His sharp, bearded jawline began to blur, fat accumulating around his face until a thick double chin formed beneath his once-chiseled features. His designer button-down strained against the rapid expansion of his body, the fabric pulling tight as his belly swelled, and his love handles spilled over the sides of his pants.

“Just relax,” Travis grunted, his hands now moving lower, massaging Brent’s sides as his love handles plumped up even further. “You’re turnin’ into the pig you were always meant to be.”

Brent’s mind was a fog of confusion and disgust, but the worst part was… he couldn’t fight it. The smell, the sensation, the sheer wrongness of it all was drowning out his ability to think clearly. His bulge, once noticeable and proud in his black dress pants, was shrinking into a pathetic nub, barely discernible beneath the growing mass of his fat gut.

The buttons on Brent’s designer shirt began to pop off one by one, unable to contain the rapidly expanding girth of his belly. His chest hair, which had once been thick and masculine, now looked out of place on his sagging moobs, the flesh jiggling with every slight movement. His dress pants ripped at the seams, the fabric tearing open to reveal his hairy, flabby thighs and sagging ass, which now jutted out like a mound of jello.

Travis grinned, stepping back to admire his handiwork as Brent collapsed onto the bed, his massive body too heavy to support anymore. “Look at you, boy,” Travis sneered. “You’re nothin’ but a fat, filthy pig now.”

Brent’s mind was slipping, his thoughts clouded by the stench and the rapid transformation his body had undergone. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face, his body bloated and disgusting, but… there was a part of him that didn’t care anymore. The stink that had once made him gag was now… familiar. Comforting, even.

Travis leaned down, his face inches from Brent’s, and let out another rancid fart, the sound echoing in the now-filthy bedroom. Brent barely flinched this time, his glazed eyes staring up at the ceiling as the room filled with the foul odor.

“You’re one of us now,” Travis said, his voice low and commanding. “A fat, stinkin’ slob, just like Preston. Just like me.”

Brent moaned, the last of his resistance crumbling as his body gave in to the transformation completely. His designer clothes lay in tatters around him, his once-muscular frame now nothing more than a massive, jiggling mound of fat. The sharp features that had once made him so handsome were gone, replaced by rolls of flesh and a slack, dumb expression.

“Get used to it, boy,” Travis growled, patting Brent’s bloated belly with a satisfied smirk. “You’re gonna be livin’ in filth from now on.”

Brent barely registered the words, his mind too far gone to process what had just happened. All he knew was that the life he had once known was over, and there was no going back.

Travis stood up, leaving Brent to wallow in his own filth as he headed back downstairs to check on Preston and Vince. The family was finally complete.

The living room felt different now, it was heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, musk, and filth. Travis stood at the center of it all, his massive arms crossed over his bloated gut, grinning with pride as he surveyed his handiwork. His family was complete, and there was nothing left of the pristine life that Preston’s adoptive dads had once known.

Brent waddled down the stairs first, his designer shirt now nothing more than a few tattered pieces of fabric clinging to his flabby frame. His chest sagged, hairy moobs jiggling with every step, and his once sharp jawline had completely dissolved into a thick, quivering double chin. His eyes were glazed over, a dull look of submission and satisfaction etched across his face as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the room.

Vince shuffled out of the kitchen soon after, his light blue suit bursting at the seams. His fat belly hung over the waistband of what was left of his pants, and his pink shirt had burst open, leaving his chest and stomach fully exposed. His hairy skin glistened with sweat, his body now a mountain of fat that jiggled and wobbled with every clumsy movement he made. Vince’s face was slack, his double chin wobbling as he took in the sight of his new family with a dumb, contented grin.

Preston stood between his two dads, looking like a grotesque reflection of the man he had once been. His athletic build was gone, replaced by an even larger belly than his fathers’, sagging moobs, and thick love handles that spilled out of his overstretched clothes. His eyes sparkled with a newfound joy—he had embraced his transformation, and there was no turning back. The remnants of his old life were buried under layers of fat and the overwhelming stink of their new existence.

“Look at you boys,” Travis growled, watching as his creation unfolded before him. “All fat, stinkin’ pigs, just like me. Ain’t no goin’ back now.”

Vince’s once smooth jawline was now buried under layers of fat, his double chin quivering as he leaned in to press his face against Brent’s hairy moobs. He inhaled deeply, the scent of his husband’s sweat filling his nostrils and sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Brent, in turn, let out a low, guttural moan as he squeezed Vince’s bloated love handles, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Travis grunted, stepping forward to join his new family. He reached out, grabbing a handful of Preston’s fat ass, the flesh jiggling beneath his grip. “This is what you were always meant to be, boy. You and your daddies.”

Preston let out a shuddering moan as his dad’s words sank in. He felt complete, whole in a way he had never known before. His fat body was his new reality, and the stench that clung to him, the sweat that dripped down his rolls of flesh it was all part of the life he was meant to live.

Travis stepped back, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold before him. His family was finally complete, each one of them a bloated, stinking reflection of himself. He had turned them all into ignorant, rancid, obese, gainer pigs. And he couldn’t be more proud.

Preston, Brent, and Vince continued to grope and explore each other’s bodies, their hands sinking into the rolls of fat that now defined them. They were lost in their own world of filth and pleasure, their minds fully given over to the transformation. The remnants of their old lives had faded away, replaced by the primal, piggish existence they now embraced.

The sound of their moans and grunts filled the room as the family of slobs reveled in their new life.

[summitprinter]

LeanBeefPatty's Hefty Bulk

Everyone has a breaking point, and famous bodybuilding sensation LeanBeafPatty was nearing hers. Ms. Patty had spent dozens of hours focusing on her figure. Every aspect of her life was dedicated to bodybuilding. Yet no matter how many weights Ms. Patty lifted, how many progress videos were posted, and how built she became, it never felt like it was enough. Sure there were plenty of people who showered her with praise, but the few quiet doubters always brought her down. Ms. Patty always felt a fierce competition between herself and other fitness influencers. If you weren’t the biggest and strongest, then why bother? So when people left comments telling her that she was still too small and wasn’t strong or that she used unnatural methods to achieve her body, feelings of stress filled her. These feelings of self-doubt would build inside of her for many years until one day, she finally snapped. After reading a particularly nasty comment about her body, Ms. Patty decided to take a break from social media, disabling all of her online accounts. As she did this, she began to feel slightly relieved, like a large weight was lifted from her shoulders. Suddenly her gut moaned for food. The realization that she no longer had to eat bland food to obtain an impossible goal suddenly hit and Ms. Patty began looking through a myriad of food delivery options. Becoming a little too excited with the amount of choices, she ordered over one hundred dollars worth of take-out food and waited patiently for it to arrive. As Ms. Patty spread the feast across her table, she stared at it in silence. She had done her fair share of bulks in the past, but for the first time in a long while, she was eating for taste and pleasure, not some bodybuilding goal. As the fear of feeling like a pig, she gazed down upon herself and stared at her sharp abs. Soon feelings of reassurance came floating in. Why should she be so strict with herself? What’s one slightly unhealthy meal? After all, she had the body of a goddess as many had told her. So with a new found appreciation of herself, Ms. Patty began to slowly eat, savoring each greasy flavor that touched her mouth. Little did she know that her fate was sealed with that one bite… Three Years Later…

It seems Ms. Patty hasn’t managed her appetite for fast food well. The once muscular bodybuilder no longer remains. Now a disgusting grease covered blob has taken her place. Ms. Patty has become a complete slave to her hunger. That first feast she had so many years ago started a chain reaction where she would gorge herself silly then she would feel terrible about it, ordering more food to eat her feelings away, leading to an endless cycle of fattening self-misery. This plus her new greasy diet of processed foods has left her pores clogged with sweat, her face riddled with acne, and a gassy gut that’s only slightly alleviated with constant burping and farting, facts that embarrassed her greatly. Along her growing stress levels, her waistline hasn’t fared much better. Gone are her washboard abs, firm biceps, and tight ass. Instead, rolls of unflatteringly saggy fat now make up most of her body. Her weight has gotten so bad that she mostly stays confined to her bed, only getting up to collect the many food deliveries she orders on a daily basis or to replace the batteries for her many “toys.” Yes, alongside keeping her mouth filled with food, Ms. Patty now has at least one orifice filled with some kind of sex toy. She did it at first to try and alleviate her stress from weight gain, but nowadays her dopamine receptors are so fried that it merely edges her for hours on end. 

Today was like any other day for Ms. Patty, with the fat slob waking up in late afternoon in a puddle of her own sweat and smells, her mind immediately thinking of food. Without thought, she ordered a large pepperoni pizza and waited, the soft buzz of the toy she had buried down in her rolls droning on.

Soon the sounds of knocking at the door filled the air. As Ms. Patty went to stand up, she suddenly realized that she couldn’t. She gritted her teeth and groaned in pain as her thick fatty legs pushed against the mattress with all their might. As the delivery girl called out her name, Ms. Patty began to panic. What was this poor delivery girl going to say when she saw her? Tears began to roll down Ms. Patty’s round cheeks. Out of ideas and desperately craving that greasy pizza, she called out to the delivery driver, meekly telling her to come in. As her front door creaked slowly open and the outside sunlight bathed her dark and dirty room, Ms. Patty felt a burning shame fill her face. Soft footsteps stepped in, with a thin young woman slowly approaching the large pile of lard that was Ms. Patty. The delivery girl had stopped dead in her tracks when she first laid eyes on Ms. Patty, who could do nothing as the delivery girl took in her fat disgusting body, gagging from the many strange and strong smells emanating from her sweaty folds. Ms. Patty began to cry harder as the delivery girl dropped the pizza in shock and ran for the door. The realization that this was no one’s fault but her own began to hit hard. She had to get used to this feeling quickly as this was her life now. Nothing but pure, shameful misery…

ALTS:

Clean:

Sweat:

Sweat and Crying:

Sweat, Acne, and Crying:

Slob:

Slob and Crying:

Slob, Acne, and Crying:

Slob and Farting:

Slob, Farting, and Crying:

[wiley22]

A friend/coworker of mine said they saw my belly through the bottom of my crewneck.....

I have died of embarrassment but was also turned on like a fuxking light switch 😵‍💫🫣

[akai-immobile]

gonna be honest , I can't sit at my table to play my computer anymore. My belly legit sticks out too much. So I've succumb to just using my belly as my table , it makes it easier but tbh it needs to get bigger so I can ceep more snacks than what hides in my cleavage. This gamer needs to take a lunch break from posting.... BUUUURP.