Fat Gala
Last update
2022-08-12 23:04:23

    Same person. Two different lifestyles


    Same person? Hardly. The fat pig on the right ate the man in the left, robbed him of his fitness and work ethic. Now all he can do is submit to his gluttonous desires and grow and grow and grow…

    “It will happen to you, too”

    I can’t believe how thin I used to be. How handsome. How clothes fit me so well. How easy it used to be to do everyday things like tying shoes, or getting out of the car or even walking around a crowded space. Not anymore. Now I’m 450 pounds and growing. And it will happen to you too.

    I never wanted to be this big. It just kind of, happened. I was warned. Gaining is addictive, guys would tell me. “It’s hard to stop once you really get into it” one gainer told me. He was a mere 250 pounds back then. He’s 350 now. Smaller than me. Maybe not as greedy as I am.

      It was only supposed to be thirty pounds at first. At 22 years old, 160 lbs on my 5'8 frame was a good, slender size. My muscles were tone, but nothing special. I had been a runner in high school. Track and Field. But never had some particularly shredded body. After college, is when I really got into gaining. I had found this video of a massive guy with a ball gut as big as a beach ball. Stretched to its limit. Firm but chubby. Covered in old faded stretch marks and a few new ones on his bulging corpulent love handles. He would chug a full blender of gainer sludge, a concoction of peanut butter and ice cream and heavy cream and chocolate syrup and mass gainer. Then he’d rub his gut and say “bigger. BIGGER. I NEED TO BE BIGGER.” Then I’d squirt, a hot stream of cum all over my slender body. FUCK. That was hot.

      I wanted to grow, but not quite that big. I mean, That is extreme. That guy would get stared at in public. Surely his coworkers and friends and family members were worried about his size. And in the gay world, who would want to hook up with a gigantic slob weirdo like that guy? All my gay friends were into chiseld muscular beach bodies with sleek defined abs and tight little butts.

    So the first thirty pounds really was FUN. I ate everything I could. Fast food, protein shakes, candy bars, protein bars, more protein shakes, extra cream in my coffee, an entire pizza to myself, donuts every morning, always ordering dessert. I loved watching my belly start to bulge out over my pants when I’d be bloated. My shirts got a little snug. 190 lbs came in about 4 months. Not too bad! And definitely noticeable. Guys at the bar would pat my shoulder and say things like “you’ve really bulked up!” and “someone’s been eating well!“It was just an experiment. Just 30 lbs. Just to see. But once I got to 190 lbs… it felt… kind of disappointing. I felt a little deflated once I stopped trying to gain. A little just… there. My body was just soft but not really fat. A small belly, but nothing to draw attention to it.

      The gainers online knew I was vulnerable. The encouragement came swift. They loved my before and after photos. “First thirty pounds” and guys were jerking off to my pics. I’d get messages every day asking how much more I’d try to gain. “I dunno, maybe 10-20 more pounds I guess.” But they knew more than I did. That once I got over that threshold from “fit guy who has put on weight” to officially a “fat guy” that I’d be hooked. It’ll happen to you too.

      A month later I was at a solid 200 pounds. Definitely not thin anymore. My muscles were padded with some thick meat. This is when I met my first feeder. He was a really slender handsome guy. And he wanted to fuck me up good. First thing he did was make me associate chugging and eating with sex. “Finish your pizza and drink 3 Boosts VHC” then he’d relieve the tension by stroking my rock hard cock. Nothing made me hornier than pigging out. Just absolutely bloating myself as big as possible. Knowing I was dumping 5000 calories into my body a day. I was horny constantly. Yet somehow, I was always unfulfilled. I needed MORE.

      He piled weight on me quick, and within 5 months, I was a stocky 230 lbs. My largest pairs of jeans were stretched to their limit. My lovehandles pushed the denim out, making it fold over itself at the waistband. My thighs were exploding out of the jeans. Several pairs ripped in the crotch. I would feel my soft underbelly sitting in my lap in the car. Caress it. Get horny. Yet always feel like I needed more. This will happen to you too.

      Around 250 the stretchmarks really started to show. Encircling my belly button and also on my thighs, upper arms, and lovehandles. They made me so horny. Knowing that I was growing so fast that I was out-growing my own skin. At 260, I hit my 100-pounds gained mark. And boy did people notice. My old college buddies would flick my supple man tits. Guys at the bar would grab my flabby waist and pat my round bloated gut and laugh and say “looks like you’ve been skipping cardio day!” This made me want more.

      The online gainer community had become my real-life community. at a very stocky, round, 280 lbs, I would meet up with other gainers. But no one wanted to grow as fast as I did. Each day was a practice in seeing how fat I could get. An entire carton of heavy cream. Followed by Boost. Followed by donuts. Guys were impressed. I wouldn’t be able to move afterwards. But even when I was so full that i felt sick, I’d still be able to have.. just one more bite.

      At 300 lbs is when some of the gainers started to get concerned. 

    “hey man, you looked great at 250. You should just chill it, okay?”

    Another: “Careful man, you’re going to end up in a hospital bed at the rate you’re going.”

    “Hey, you don’t look so good anymore. You should hit the gym a bit before you gain more.”

    But I couldn’t stop. This will happen to you too. In fact, the warnings that I was becoming fully addicted to gaining only made me want it more. And want it faster!

    I had started to sell my gainer videos to people to help afford my addiction. Food is expensive. Something about being on camera turned me into a total slob. I’d gulp down buckets of melted ice cream with vanilla goo dripping over my tight round gut and plump tits. My body is covered in bright red angry stretchmarks. Evidence that it’s working. I’d eat an entire sheet cake on all fours. Covered in crumbs and frosting, I’d stand up and chug chocolate milk. “BIGGER. BIGGER. BIGGER” I’d say into the camera. Guys loved it. I’d make 2000 dollars a month and use every penny to growing fatter.

      At 350 pounds I was truly unrecognizable, even to myself. My face was puffy and rotund, with a double chin folding onto my fat round body. I looked like I had breasts and what had started off as a ball gut years ago was now a saggy bloated belly. I waddled with pride. I only wore the baggiest clothes I could find, something to grow into. My calves had turned the size of melons to support my weight. My fingers were dimpled plump sausages. But I was still so hungry for more. This will happen to you too.

      One day at about 375 I started crying in the mirror. I cannot believe what I have done to myself. I was a shadow of my former self. A ruined, gross, obese slob. My skin was ruined by stretchmarks. My ass was wide and dimpled and saggy. My nipples puffy and stretched. I looked nothing like the track and field jock that I once was. And at this point, too fat to ever go back. But I looked down and my cock was rock hard. And I was caressing my sagging gut without realizing it. This made me so horny. I liked getting ruined. I wanted to do more damage. I went to the fridge and grabbed four Boosts. I sat down, turned on my camera, and chugged them, watching myself in the mirror gulp down 2000 calories in a matter of minutes. I could feel the creamy boost dripping out of the corner of my mouth and onto my fat neck. This will happen to you, too. 

      I don’t hook up with regular gay men anymore. Only with feeders, encouragers, other gainers, other very fat men. I hear the mumbles and whispers at the gay bar. “He used to be really cute, I don’t know what happened to him.”

    An ex boyfriend of mine says hi, but doesn’t want to hug me. Asks if I’m ok. “never been better!” I reply, with my hand resting on my belly. 

    “I’ve put on a little weight too,” he says. And he has, maybe 20 lbs. “but trying to lose it,” he adds.

    “Not me.” I say firmly. “I want to get bigger.“ 

    He’s shocked. “well, you’re pretty big already” and laughs awkwardly.

    “I’m thinking another 50 pounds. really see how big I can get this tank” and as I say this, I push out my gut so far that it knocks into him, and he’s surprised.

    “Are you getting fat on PURPOSE?” He asks in horror. I laugh. 

    “Can’t you tell?” as I reach down and jiggle my hefty gut. 

    “that’s messed up,” he says, as he grabs his beer and walks away. I notice his newly formed love handles pushing out his shirt as he marches on.

      That night I pigged out like never before. And drank a 12 pack of beer to top it off. That gives me the best burps for my videos. I looked into the camera, sweaty, drunk, bloated, 450 pounds of insatiable gainer pig. 

    I say to the camera: “Do you ever get excited by gaining a little weight?

    Do you ever want to see just how big you can get? *grab a handful of my lard*

    Ever get turned on by growing out of all your XL clothing?

    Well I did.That’s what happened to me.

    And it’ll happen to you too. 

    Be careful.

    You may not be able to stop.”

    Then I uploaded the video to my Instagram and Facebook. I was free. Now everyone knows:

    I am a disgusting wrecked slob of a hog, and I did it on purpose, and I would do it again, and I want more. Nothing can stop me.