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commonlyme · 6 months

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You wake up in a delirious haze, wondering what happened and why there are holes in your memory. Last night is a blur, but you can remember one thing. You ate, a lot. The soft gut that had slowly grown pooling in your lap, your tits heavy and sore. Your skin itchy and taut making way for new stretchmarks. When the binding to your hands became apparent, fear washed over a tsunami and flooded your psyche. You were wanting to take a shower because of the residue left over from last night's feast and all of the jostling from your recent realization let a stifled burp escape your plump lips. Thinking everything would be ok in the end, you relax and give up trying to escape your bindings. It wasn't worth it anyway, it kept making you jiggle! Even after you stopped, that pudgy gut continued to wobble. Your fat double chin quivered as the homegrown bingo wings that hung where there were once muscles undulated. As soon as you realized you were hungry, you heard your front door open and froze. Hunger always seemed to pervade now, and it only took you noticing that fact to gorge yourself. The fearful invader approached ever closer smelling of a sweet vanilla. They seemed familiar, and as they put their hand onto your rounded gut, you couldn't help but feel *odd*. . .

As this is happening your rotund tummy let out an audible groan of hunger, "I guess it's time for you to eat hog". It starts out innocent enough, being fed bite after bite of food. The portions do increase, yes, but it feels so comfortable, so caring, so *safe*. You get secure enough to speak up and communicate, "I'm full, do you think we could stop? I've already had so much. . ." That was a mistake, as the mysterious stranger stops feeding you and stands up in a slow deliberate fashion. "The pig thinks they can speak up, huh? You're a fucking fatty who can't control themselves around food. Look at this gut, it's massive. You have stretchmarks about everywhere I can see. Hell, everyone knows what a greedy glutton you are, and I'll make sure you're NEVER anything else." They grab the beginning belly hang and shake your fat belly like it's a sac of melted marshmallows. The rest of your body follows suit and being unable to control the wobble of your body, you whimper. You know you've let go recently, you used to be so small. You used to work out and be healthy. You used to be able to fit nice clothes. You used to be able to control yourself, but you had a dark secret. You *wanted* this. You know you shouldn't feel this way, but it reignites your hunger and makes you feel as *odd* as before. The intruder gets up after feeding you everything there and goes into the kitchen. The sound of the blender whirring to life is heard and begins to drive you wild. You can't wait, and let out a little burp from unsettling what already rests in your greedy gut. When they come back, they're carrying the entire the pitcher and hold it under your nose. It's so rich and creamy smelling, you know it's going to destroy your waistline. "I see the look in your eyes so I know you want it. Before you glut yourself I'll go ahead and enlighten you on what's in here. I've put Mass Gainer in here, heavy cream, ice cream, sugar, chocolate syrup, and a few boost shakes I had to up the calories." You can't imagine drinking it all since you're already so full from everything they've made you eat, but you have no choice. They tilt your head back and slowly pour it down your throat. Not all of it makes it into your greedy maw, and it runs off the sides of your mouth, and you can feel the cold liquid trail down your chest and belly. It's getting everywhere at this point, but you can't stop to clean up. You have about a third of it left and your tummy is so stretched out. Your stretchmarks itch and you can feel new ones forming. You squeeze your eyes shut and force the rest down into your engorged body and before you know it it's done. "Good job piggy, you did a really job tonight." You give a strained smile as you try to respond, but they stop you. "It's ok baby, we really pushed you today." They undo your bindings and release your hands. That poor tummy can finally get the rubs it deserves, and a couple small burps force their way through your cream covered lips. "Guess that means you've got some more room in there, but we'll worry about that later. Let's get you comfortable." They help you up and y'all head to the bedroom. It was a slow, laborious waddle to the room assisted by your partner. Now cuddling together in the bed with your partner giving your strained tummy the rubs it so needs, you can't help but to think about how excited you are to do this again tomorrow. . .

#feedee encouragement #feederist #feedee feeder #feederism kink #stuffed feedee

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andopandor · 5 months

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On Thick Ice

My first gay gainer story, let me know what you think. Sorry for low quality images :(

After hockey practice, Oscar exits the locker room and makes his way to the exit of the arena. He's exhausted but satisfied after a hard day's practice. Standing at 6'2", Oscar is the epitome of a college ice hockey star. His long dark hair is messy from practice and his eyes are intense and focused. He has a toned athletic build, with broad shoulders and well-defined abs. But despite being known for his physical prowess, Oscar secretly wishes he could let it all go. He wants to be able to eat whatever he wants and put on the pounds like the rest of his college friends.

On his way out, Oscar bumps into Clay, who's busy closing up the arena concession stand where he works. Clay apologizes profusely, but Oscar waves it off with a smile. Both of the men had noticed each other previously, and were eager to exchange a few friendly words. As they small talk, Oscar's stomach suddenly rumbles and he realizes that it's time for his post-practice snack. Turning to Clay, he asks, "Hey, I'm really sorry, but I'm starving. Do you have any food left?"

Clay nods, always enthusiastic to help a hungry guy out. In fact, he took special pleasure in watching the college hockey team bulk up during the off-season - if only they didn't always cut again before October. "Take a seat, I've got just the thing to hit the spot after a long day of practice." With that, Clay turns around and heads to the back room of the concession stand. He quickly assembles two large, juicy cheeseburgers and a mountain of thick-cut fries. As he returns to the front counter, he can't help but steal a glance at Oscar, wondering how much he could make this handsome hockey star eat.

As Clay sets the food in front of Oscar, the athlete can't help let out a moan of delight. "God, that smells amazing," he breathes, his stomach rumbling loudly. He quickly digs in, taking huge bites of the burger and swallowing fries two at a time. He lets out satisfied grunts between each bite, feeling the weight of the food settle comfortably in his belly.

As Oscar tucks into his meal, Clay feels a little thrill watching him enjoy it so much. He clears his throat, suddenly feeling a bit bold. "So, you know, if there's anything else you're in the mood for, just let me know. I mean, we've got soda, shakes, ice cream... it's on the house." He smiles, hoping he's not being too forward.

Oscar pauses mid-chew, his cheeks still bulging with food. He swallows and looks up at Clay, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh really? You know, I've always had a thing for your banana milkshakes... and I wouldn't mind having it nice and thick, with extra whipped cream." He licked his lips, his gaze never leaving Clay's. "Would you be able to make that for me?"

There's an electric charge in the air as Clay holds Oscar's gaze for a second longer. He wonders if Oscar is as into this as he is, feeling a rush of excitement at the idea of this handsome hockey star throwing away his toned body over Clay's food. A flush creeps up Clay's neck as he mentally pictures Oscar 50 lbs heavier. He nods, unable to form words for a moment.

"Yes, yes, of course! I'd be happy to make that for you." Clay hurries to the counter, grabbing two glasses and a pitcher of ice cream from the back. He pours the thick, creamy mixture into the glasses, topping them off with whipped cream and a cherry. He places the shakes in front of Oscar and lingers a moment, watching Oscar take the first sip. The way the athlete closes his eyes in pleasure, softly moaning around the straw... it's all too much for Clay. He returns to the service counter, trying to regain his composure.

As Oscar takes another sip of his shake, he notices that Clay is a bit flustered. He decides to tease the concession worker a bit, seeing how cute he looks when he's turned on. With a satisfied groan, Oscar takes a big stretch, his jersey riding up to reveal his expanding stomach. He slaps it a few times contentedly. "Mmm... that feels good," he murmurs, grinning at Clay's wide-eyed expression. "It's amazing any of us are still fit enough to play, with you working here." He takes another deep sip, savoring the taste and the power he has over the concession worker.

Clay's heart pounds in his chest as he watches Oscar slowly rub his stomach. He's almost certain that Oscar is purposefully playing with his emotions, but he needs to make sure. "So, Oscar," he asks, "did you have plans after practice, or...?"

Oscar only smiles and lifts an eyebrow, inviting Clay to continue.

"Or do you want to hang around and... I can show you around the kitchen?"

Clay knows it's a transparent excuse to move somewhere more private, but when he sees the spark in Oscar's eyes, he can tell that the athlete understands his implications exactly. With a nod and a grin that promises all kinds of mischief, Oscar stands and follows Clay to the back room of the concession stand.

As Oscar walks, he can feel his newly bloated belly filling out his compression shirt in a way it's never done before. As the fabric brushes against the smooth skin, Oscar is surprised to feel a hard-on growing against his pants. He's already stuffed to his limit, yet strangely he wants more.

The back room is dimly lit and quiet, offering the two men some privacy. The air between them crackles with anticipation, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Clay speaks up first. "You can sit down over there, I've got something for you." Clay has noticed the athlete's round belly and developing erection, and decides that it's his turn to take charge.

Clay disappears into the shadows for a moment, only to emerge with a large flat box in his hands. "What's in there?" Oscar asks.

Clay smirks. "I have all these warm chocolate chip cookies that won't be any good tomorrow. If no one eats them, we'll just have to throw them away..."

Oscar peers inside the box. There are around two dozen in there. His erection presses harder at the thought of eating them all. He laughs, a warm sound that sends shivers down Clay's spine. His voice is husky with desire. "Well, I guess we should find a way to get rid of those cookies then. Good thing I always have room for dessert."

Suddenly, Oscar pulls Clay onto his lap with surprising strength. Clay gasps, feeling Oscars growing body pressed against his own. He can feel the athlete's erection warm against his thigh, and he knows his own is equally obvious at this point. He takes one of the fresh, buttery cookies and holds it up against Oscar's lips. Oscar chews and swallows it greedily, and then another. And another.

In between devouring cookies, Oscar peels off his practice jersey and pulls up the shirt underneath, allowing his distended belly to breathe. Clay begins to massage Oscar's stomach, feeling its warmth and solidity. "Don't eat too much," he warns, his voice teasing. "You don't want to get fat, do you?"

Oscar groans, his belly tingling against Clay's soft touch. "I will be, if you keep feeding me," he manages to say through a mouthful of cookie. He takes another bite, and another, relishing the feel of Clay's hands over his expanse of skin. The athlete moans deeply with desire, enjoying both the soft, creamy cookies and Clay's gentle touch.

Not long later, to both of their shock, there are only four cookies left. Oscar's belly is solid as rock and feels like it has doubled in diameter. "Fuck, I'm full... I can't eat any more," he complains, but Clay lifts another cookie to his lips. He can tell that Clay won't stop feeding him until he's eaten every cookie in the box - and deep inside, Oscar wants to give up all control to Clay, to let him destroy his athletic body.

Clay smirks, relishing the power he has over Oscar at this point. Another two cookies move from the box into Oscar's stomach. "Maybe just one more," Oscar murmurs, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in anticipation.

As Clay feeds Oscar the last cookie, his other hand finds its way down to Oscar's crotch, feeling the heat and hardness through his hockey shorts. His fingers move to undo the straps and strings.

As his pants spill open, Oscar's round belly swells, finally free to take up its proper space. With the release in pressure, Oscar moans in pain and pleasure. "I'm fucking stuffed," he gasps, his voice thick with lust.

Clay's hand finds its way to Oscar's cock, hard through his boxers, teasing it. Oscar arches forward, offering himself to the other man. He is unbelievably aroused. "Please," he whispers, "let me fuck you.

Clay's fingers dance across Oscar's tight belly, tracing patterns that ignite a fire in his groin. Clay leans in, kissing Oscar's neck, his lips trailing down to his collarbone. "You're so fucking fat and gorgeous," he whispers, "I want to feel you on me, feel your weight on top of me." He continues to massage both Oscar's belly and cock, moving faster now, his touch more urgent. He pulls down the waistband of Oscar's underwear, revealing his cock, hard and ready. "I want to feel you inside of me."

Their eyes meet, and in that moment, the tension snaps. They both know what needs to happen next. With a growl, Oscar grabs Clay's hair and pulls him close, their lips crashing in a fierce kiss. Clay feels Oscar's swollen body against his, feels the hockey player's inflated torso against his own. He gasps as Oscar's thick cock slides inside him. He pushes back against Oscar, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

Yet his hands remain on Oscar's thick belly, exploring its girth. He can't believe that this is really happening. He did this. He made Oscar grow like this. He has never been so turned on in his life. He can feel the other man's control slipping, feel the desperation building inside him. He wants it to go on forever, but he knows neither of them can last much longer.

With a final urgent thrust, Oscar releases inside of Clay, and Clay finishes moments later, spilling across Oscar's smooth belly. Oscar pants heavily to catch his breath, his gut heaving. Clay leans forward to kiss Oscar, feeling his massive dome of a belly underneath him. They remain there for a while, feeling the weight of each other, the warmth of their skin, the rhythm of their breath.

After a moment, Clay carefully disentangles himself from Oscar and helps him straighten up, a challenging task with his belly in the way. Oscar leans into Clay, kissing him softly on the lips. "That was... incredible."

Clay flushes, but can't help the smile spreading across his face. "See you next week after practice, then?"

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay gainer #gay belly #gainerstory #male weight gain #wg story #stuffing

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sterekchub · 9 months

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Chris force feeding Derek the darker the better. The kink is mutual, Derek gets off on verbal humiliation of being Chris’ piggy

This screams AU (and be warned - dark, and VERY Long but…Derek loves it). Chris is a legend in the gainer community.

Derek is the CEO, sole heir to the Hale Industries inheritance, nothing but a clean image and solid reputation…and his dirty secret is he logs on to Chris' blog every few nights and jerks off imagining Chris is feeding him.

One night, Chris posts he's looking for a new pig. Promises that they'll be treated like a true hog, but threatens there are strict conditions to meet. He requires blackmail. Embarrassing videos, bank account numbers, anything to guarantee they're not backing out. Chris knows what he wants, and he doesn't want some young twink getting scared when the scale says 300lbs.

A little drunk and thinking "what the hell," Derek fills out the form, jerks off to Chris' videos, hits send, and promptly goes to bed thinking nothing about it.

The next morning a black limo is waiting for him outside his office. Chris gets out of it, screaming DILF and Derek is a CEO of a billion dollar company, has fired dozens of people, and finds himself nervous in front of him.

Chris just smiles and holds out a hand to him. "I accept. Congratulations, Derek."

(Ummm and lots of plot in between but have some random scenes)

It becomes VERY obvious before long that verbal humiliation is Derek's thing.

Chris is relentless. Feeds Derek constantly, sends him to work bloated and in a food coma, then obediently follows Chris' orders on what he's to order for lunch. Chris doesn't care if he has meetings. Doesn't care if Derek's button bursts as he sits with the board of directors, or if the BBQ and baked beans he forced Derek to have for lunch is making him gassy right before an important meeting.

Derek is his pig. He's lucky Chris is letting him even leave the house.

"Imagine what they're saying about you, Derek." "Won't be long before they start looking at this gut you're growing and wondering why you're letting yourself go." "Imagine what they'd think if they knew how desperately you wanted to get fat for me." *** Force-feeding is…really the entire relationship. Anything Derek eats, is decided on by Chris. The boost shakes he keeps in his office and faithfully sends pics to Chris with each one he's chugged down. The lunches Chris tells him to order. The huge dinners Chris prepares every night where Derek eats until his arms are tired and his belly feels ready to pop. The funnel-feedings before, during, and after sex to make sure Derek is as filled to the brim with calories as possible

Derek gets fat at a pace so rapid even he can't believe it. One morning he looks down and sees nothing but a pudgy gut and stretchmarks and swears they weren't there last week.

"I can't" Derek gasps weakly. "I have to give a press call today."

"I know. But pigs really shouldn't try to pretend to be something they aren't." Chris tells him. "Drink up."

He pours a keg of beer and as much soda as he can fit into Derek's swollen belly before dropping him off outside his office. Derek goes to the press call with a button missing from his suit- belly wide and proud like a beach ball in front of him. He belches and slurs and hiccups his way through the entire press call.

Chris replays it over and over that night as he fucks Derek. Derek's never come harder. *****

"I don't think this gut," he gives Derek's belly a solid slap, "will fit in a booth, could we get a table?"

Chris takes Derek out to eat, in jeans that look painted on and a T-shirt that is one stuffing away from rising up over his belly like a crop top. As soon as they sit down and look at the menu, Chris tells Derek what he's supposed to order.

"I'm sorry, he's such a pig," he smiles charmingly at their waiter, "I can't seem to get him to stop eating!"

Some nights, Chris will have Derek ride him, just to watch Derek starting to sweat and pant, blubber glistening and belly jiggling, and eventually has to stop to catch his breath.

"Need to stop already? Not even a minute….Finish this shake then get on all fours, pig. Fat fuck…" ***

Chris is sitting in a booth off to the side of the front counter, sipping on a soda and clearly waiting for the show to start.

Derek orders one of everything on the menu. The cashier behind the counter stares at him in confusion and asks him to repeat himself.

Derek is bright red but doesn't back down. "I'll…have one of everything."

It takes four employees to bring the entire order to his table. Derek can feel the eyes of everyone watching him, ass hanging out of his pants as he sits on two chairs and starts digging in, but all he cares about is Chris who is watching him hungrily. ****

"547," Chris reads."You were only 554 yesterday..." Derek looks down to on instinct, even if he can only see the mounds of his chest and the ever growing curve of his expansive belly. Chris catches him trying to look. "Don't worry, you haven't maxed this one out yet...but you will soon enough. What do you think about that?" "Please," Derek moans, reaching for his aching dick. There's too much of his own lard in the way. Usually Chris loves forcing Derek to rut against his own belly to try ang get himself off, teases him for looking more and more like a barnyard pig then ever. But ever since Derek passed the 500lb mark, Chris put a few new rules into place. "You know the rules, piggy. Want some help?" Derek oinks. "Good hog."

#I could write so much more of these scenes #so if there's anything specific you want to see #let me know...#fat derek #feeder!Chris #I have more but I ran out of characters apparently

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mikeholdher · 4 years

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Update: Jan 25th

Mood for 2020.

I think I finally resolved alot of demons I was dealing with. I had to be brutally honest with alot of things in my life. Telling myself that no matter what there are some situations I can't change o have to leave them alone and stop putting time and energy into them.

I those things off and for awhile I was stuck with a lot of time on my hands. Borderline depressed cause I didn't want to get out of bed. Felt I didn't have a purpose anymore. Amazed at the fact that I survived this long. I honestly convinced myself at one point that I've lived a good life. So if nothing comes from it anymore or I die it'll be okay. I was fine with just not doing anything. The holiday blues just made everything feel worse in the sense that yet again I felt alone. No one to relate to. And mentally no one to connect with at all.

Pulling myself out of that was the hardest thing I've probably ever done. I'd say because for the first time in my life I felt like I didn't have an answer at all. So I just started trying to fill my schedule up with random things. Just to give my another place to go and focus on something that wasn't related to the hear and now. I picked my racing seat up from my parents house finally. Ordered a self motivation book and another book on cancer. Maybe if I could read someone else's story instead of mine that would give me a break. Convinced myself that I wasn't in the best shape at all. I always talked about returning to my soccer season shape when I played in an adult comp league for a little but I never acted on it. Had to look in the mirror and say "You know you're better than this so why are you giving up." From mid December to now I've packed on around 9lbs-10lbs and I noticed that my quads definitely look alot better. The actual scars on my leg from surgery are stretching a substantial amount.

Funny story I got drunk 1 night recently and agreed to a 4100 calorie meal plan with the roomies. Been actually sticking to it. But it's a fuck ton of eating and mass gainer shakes. Literally eating throughout most of the day if not all of it. Don't mix Skrewball, Jameson, and Stella or you may see similar stupidity.

Bought a guitar... I haven't played in like 4 years. But hey better sooner than later. I think it'll help exercise my brain and may improve my memory to at least somewhat near what it was before the surgeries.

Binging the fuck out of k dramas, c dramas, t dramas, anime, and Netflix in general.

Retail therapy by that I mean an unhealthy obsession with Superdry,puma, and clothes in general. I had to be brutally honest... Would I date myself looking the way I did before. And the answer was no. After my surgery I stopped dressing up and really let my appearance go. I made the excuse that it was because half my face was missing. And I would start wearing button ups and keeping up everything after I was all patched up.

I knew in the back of my head it was just an excuse I was making. I feel good now. I went overboard with clothes but honestly one of the best feelings in the world is presenting the best version of yourself to the world. Your own unique style. It's the equivalent of a skilled painter presenting his art in a gallery.

I still have this feeling of loneliness on some days but I'm enjoying my own company alot more now. Even if I'm not making big steps I'm still moving forward. And at least I can say now that I'm not depressed anymore or at least I'm battling it and coping. You'd be surprised how much you can overcome after you start being real with yourself and more importantly putting your mental health and happiness before everything else.

Also if anyone needs someone to talk to I'm here. I would have wanted someone to do the same thing for me when I was going through. So it's the least I can do. We all can use some help sometimes as much as I hate to admit it.

#me #personal #chivalry isn't dead #depression #cancer sucks #motivational #life #happiness

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