Getting Big

Getting trouble wearing your old suit? You should have watched more closely what you ate lately cause you got fat dude. Now please stop trying and smiling, it makes things worse. Now get it off and go put your regular swimsuit.

A @luffywg finding.

This is a cute and quite funny Californian advertisement for gay marriage called, well “Make homosexuals marry !” You find several videos of it on Youtube, often of poor quality, but this one was taken from a 720p video of quite good quality.

Here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJb7_fbCm4c&t

Thought I would make a master list of all my stories, for convenience. I’ll be updating this as I publish more. Enjoy! 🐷

Beached: Nick gains a new appreciation for the beach after seeing a very large (yet strangely familiar) figure.

Big Moments: When Connor puts on a few pounds, he has no idea that it’s just the beginning—his weight gain is just getting started. This story follows his transformation from slim young man to hefty chub.

Lifeguard Off Duty: In this multi-part collaboration with gainerstories, former lifeguard Bradley faces big temptations at his new office job, and soon finds himself in a losing battle with the bulge.

Room Service: Serving at a hotel restaurant isn’t Enrique’s dream job, but he does enjoy the free meals and handsome customers. But those perks come with some unintended consequences.

10-Year Reunion: Matthew is surprised to discover a former classmate has grown in more ways than one since graduation—and he’s even more surprised by the chemistry between them.

Amenities: As he tries to recreate an unforgettable night from his past, married businessman Nate discovers that the universe has much larger (but equally steamy) plans in store for him.

Treats: Who doesn’t love a man outgrowing his Halloween costume? This is the story of Noah and Troy, and the different ways they spend Halloween over the years.

Marathon: Follow Jason, an overfed ex-jock, on a one-day whirlwind of gluttony as he eats his way through his small town’s most fattening offerings.

Some of you may be aware that ‘Original Gainer Stories’ on Tumblr will soon be posting the 100th story. Yes, believe it or not, in under two years, I have somehow managed to write and post ninety-nine stories! Don’t believe me? Well, why not check out the all new contents page for the blog, created especially to mark this event. Here you will find easy links and descriptions of all of the stories so far: Hyperlink: https://feeder86.tumblr.com/contents">https://feeder86.tumblr.com

As well as the 100th story to look forward to, I will also be posting a Q&A entry - and so, if you would like to offer a question you would like answering, please message me.

Also, as a thank you to everyone who has supported and read the blog, I would like to give you the opportunity to decide on a story you would like to see a continuation of. This will become the 101st story, that will be posted in August.

Thanks for everything guys!

Uncle Ted’s House

Chapter 1: Home

Phil was a a kind young man, he stood at about 6’4” tall and weighed in at around 170, all his friends use to call him string bean growing up, because of his long and lanky build. Phil has a very handsome face, high cheekbones, strong brow, razor sharpe jaw line and bright blue eyes that could cause any girl to melt. Though he was only 22 he had a rather young look about him, he always blamed it on his lack of facial hair; only being able to grow a little. The young man was a college student who had just finished up all his classes for the year and was about to begin his winter break. His parents had just moved to Georgia, and since his school was in West Virginia he thought he’d ask his Uncle Ted if he could just crash there with him before he went back to school the following fall.

“Alright man I’ll see you later, hope you have a good year, looking forward to rooming with you again next fall” Phil said to his friend Luke. “Okay bud Merry Christmas, call me whenever and let me know when you want to fight each other in some Super Smash Bros” Luke said excitedly to Phil. “I’ll have to practice before we fight again, I hate when you play as Kirby, he’s so op and you always kill me!” Phil cried out. “Yeah that’s just cause you suck dude” Luke taunted. “Haha yeah yeah, I’m getting better” Phil said with sas.

Phil got all his bags and drove to his uncles house, which was only about an hour away. Phil’s Uncle Ted was his father’s younger brother, late forties, but still had a young spirit about him. Phil’s dad (Ted’s brother) died when he was 12 years old, so Ted has always been like a father figure to Phil, taught him how to shave and even told him about the birds and the bees. Phil looked a lot like his uncle, Ted reached about 6’2”, weighed about 200 and was pretty slim, with the exception of a little belly he had slowly developed over the years from his rich cooking. He was always clean shaven and had deep brown eyes, and a smile that could light up a room. Phil couldn’t wait to see his Uncle Ted, it’s been a few months since they’ve seen each other last.

Phil pushed opened the car and quickly paced to the front door. Ted lived near the country in a nice ranch with a small lake beside it, that Phil use to skate on in the winter. He reached the large wooden door and gave it a knock. “Hey there buddy, how have you been” Uncle Ted said with a huge smile. Ted then opened his arms wide and gave Phil a welcoming hug. “I’ve been pretty good, just finally catching my breath from all the finals I’ve taken” Phil said with enthusiasm. “I bet, I use to take tests when I was in school, they really take a lot outta ya, but you’re home now man, so come on in and start relaxing!” Uncle Ted said with a smirk. “Oh you and Aunt Mary painted the kitchen, I like it! Speaking of which, where is she?” Phil asked. “Oh I didn’t tell you, she’s actually in Maine for 4 months, her book got published and she’s started doing tours” Ted said. “That’s awesome, I need to call her later and congratulate her!” Phil yelled. “Well I’m just about done with dinner, come sit down I’ll bring you a plate, hope your appetite grew a bit, you use to eat like a bird!” Uncle Ted stated. “Haha yeah what can I say, I don’t eat that much, but I am super hungry now, I haven’t eaten all day!” Phil said while rubbing his stomach. “I use to be just like you, it wasn’t until my mid twenties when my appetite really started picking up, besides, a man your height needs to eat a lot!” Ted said with a chuckle.

When Phil walked to the dinning room table, he sat down to a huge plate piled high with homemade high calorie foods. 2 big pieces of fried chicken, mash potatoes dripped in thick gravy, 5 strips of crispy greasy bacon, 3 warm buttery biscuits and roasted vegetables covered in seasoning. Beside the plate was a tall glass of whole milk with a straw. “Wow, I don’t think I can even eat half of this” Phil said with wide eyes. “It’s okay bud eat what you can, I can always stick the rest in the fridge for later” Uncle Ted said with a smile. After about 45 minutes of eating and catching each other up on their lives, Phil had nothing but a few veggies and half a eaten biscuit left on his plate. Phil took the last gulp of his milk and then looked up in disbelief that he had just eaten all that. “Good job bud, I’m impressed, you ate more than me, are you gonna have dessert in a bit?” Uncle Ted said. “In a little haha right now I can hardly even stand up, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life, how are you so good at cooking!” Phil jokingly asked. “Haha just something I’ve picked up over the years I guess” Ted said with a smile. “Well it was one of the best meals I’ve had in a while!” Phil said rubbing his tiny bloated belly. “I’m glad you liked it bud, why don’t you go run some of your bags to your room while I clean dinner up, and we can meet back when you’re done, for some dessert.” He said patting Phil on the shoulder.

At 8:37 Phil walked into the kitchen, to find a huge piece of chocolate cake covered in hot fudge with 4 giant scopes of vanilla ice cream beside it. “Wow is this all for me?” Phil questioned. “Come on, you can do it, you definitely can afford it” Uncle Ted said reassuringly. Phil went in the kitchen table and devoured every last bite, until all he could see was his reflection of his face. “I have no idea why I’m so hungry today” Phil questioned. “Your body is starting to fill out, happened to me around your age too, ate my poor parents out of house and home” Ted chuckled. “About 2 hours later while watching tv with Uncle Ted, Phil went to bed to get some rest, he was tired from carrying and unpacking all his stuff.

Zach Beckett’s curse never made sense to him until the day he saw Mark: the guy who seemingly had it all. Mark was handsome, confident, with a killer body and could annihilate anyone at the gym. Even the personal trainers had never come across anyone so fit and capable. Guys looked up to him and girls hung on his every word; the most over-sexed man in town.

Zach however, had been forced to suffer his family’s curse for twenty five years, the school butter-ball, lardy and round, garnering no respect at all. He couldn’t even run a full lap around the track with his big, cumbersome, 360lb body. Still, he had suffered it, knowing that one day, his family’s curse would kick in. Now, at the age of twenty seven, he had finally shed most of it, sleeping his way around the city offloading it to whoever he wanted. He stood in the gym mirror, looking at his handsome face, his striking jawline and toned stomach without an inch of fat on it. Damn! It was worth the wait, he sighed, pleased with himself.

“No man, you’re position is wrong,” Mark cautioned Zach, whilst he was squatting. “Keep your neck up. Activate your core,” he nodded, patting his own chiselled stomach as if to demonstrate. Zach hated guys telling him what to do at the gym. The place was littered with egos; guys trying to out-do each other, analysing and nitpicking at everything the others did in order to make themselves look better. Stronger. Superior. Mark was the worst of them. He was the man around this gym; or so he thought.

I sometimes do these RP exchanges with a friend of mine who used to be on Grommr for fun.  Here is part of one that is currently ongoing.  Thought I would share because they are pretty tantalizing.  Didn’t take the time to edit any grammatical errors from the messages, and the “you” is obviously me, but hope you all enjoy!  To understand the story, the dialogue is labeled as “H” for him and “M” for me.

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H: You arrive at the university gym department, it’s been a long summer and track season seems like years away. Over the summer part time work in the bakery hasn’t been kind to your figure. Your belly has seemingly expanded in all directions, sitting proudly above your straining trouser button. Your clothes are noticeably tighter, despite you having invested in new ones this term. You stare at the chart, sport after sport that you haven’t gotten into before. You’re a track guy, or at least you were… Before you warped into the doughy lump of a boy. ‘How can I get back in shape?’ You whisper to yourself. ‘Are you ok there?’ A voice calls from behind you. You turn to see Greg, the newly voted in sports rep for college. As you turn round, your belly swings into view, and you see Greg’s eyes drawn towards it, he obviously wasn’t expecting you to be this fat from behind.

M: “Hey there! Yeah I’m doing ok - just checking out the sports sign ups for this fall. I was on the track team last year.” “Oh – the track team, Ey?” Greg questions and covertly glances at my belly again. “What were you exactly on the team? Shot put?..???” “No, I was a sprinter and did hurdles actually. To be honest, I’ve Put on maybe like ten pounds this summer sadly but I’m hoping I can easily be back in shape for a month from now. Shouldn’t be hard to lose a few pounds right??” Greg chuckles a bit “haha, kid, I don’t know how to break it to ya, but I think you’ll have to lose more than ten pounds to be fitting in those sprinting singlets anytime soon… What exactly have you been up to this summer?” “What?? This can’t be more than about ten pounds extra… Can it? I guess I haven’t tried my singlet on since last season. I should go find it in my locker…. I bet it will be just fine.” Greg looks down at my belly. The zipper on my jeans is pulling out vastly in each direction and it looks like the button is being tugged to its furthest degrees. The tee shirt I’m wearing is just snug enough where Greg can clearly see the impression of my deep belly button showing through the grey fabric.

H: ‘Hmmm I don’t know about that mate, singlets have a lot of stretch too them but I don’t know if they’d reach around this’ and he pokes your belly just below and to the right of your belly button. You look down as he does it, and as his finger pushes in, the other side of your belly bulges outwards. You blush but you’re stubborn, ‘no I’m sure it’s only 10 lbs, it’ll come off easy’ although you’re a little unsure now. Now you’re standing next to Greg you notice how much wider around the middle you are than him. ‘Ok man well if you’re so sure you’re not 10 lbs let’s head to my office, we’ll take some stats and find a sport for you.’ You follow him down the corridor, your belly swaying from side to side as you walk. He makes polite conversation but keeps glancing at your gut, sure that the button will fly off at any minute and he’ll have to take cover. As you walk you pass a bowl of blue wrapped snack bars: 'oh protein bars, I’ll need these to gain muscle right?’ 'No they’re weight gain bars tubs… I mean dude! You don’t need them’ calls Greg, and snatches them out of your hand! ’ a few won’t hurt’ you say, grabbing a handful and tucking into them straight away, ’ I haven’t eaten in like 2 hours’ and you waddle after him

M: Greg leads me into the gyms main office and I waddle back and forth a few steps behind him, finishing my third protein bar of the walk over. Greg turns to me “Alright - let’s look in the track & field file cabinet for stats from last season…. Ah here’s your file.” Greg fingers through a few pieces of paper inside the folder “Hmm. Wow. What did you say you did again this summer?” “I worked at a bakery full time. They paid really well and I was trying to save up a lot of money for this school year. I got a lot of free meals every day too so I was able to cut back on a lot of extra food costs!” “Ah I see. Free meals you say? Like what?” “Oh the usual. Various breakfast sandwiches and croissants with jam and butter were there for breakfasts. Lots of deli sandwiches and baked cookie bars and breads for lunch. Similar for dinner. Odds and ends from batches of cookies to snack on. Was really quite enjoyable!” “You clearly enjoyed it - this file says you ended the last season at 157 pounds. By the looks of that tank, you’re nowhere near that now…” “Well I can still fit into these clothes pretty well! I promise you it can’t be more than ten poun-” as I finish this sentence it’s cut off by the ping of my pants button flying across the room and the zipper to my pants unraveling, surging my doughy paunch further forward from me. Greg’s eyes widen in disbelief: “cookies to 'snack’ on? I think you ate entire trays… Let’s get you on this scale, big guy.”

H: With your belly bulging out even further you jiggle into the office. You sit down and he looks through your file. The momentum of your belly bursting out of your trousers had caused your t-shirt to ride up, and now the bare doughy flesh of your lower belly and love handles was on show. Not that you could see that. It was too far round your gut. But Greg could. He could see your soft love handles touching the arm rests of the chair, them bulging out above and below each arm. You munch on more bars, and Greg studies your file. 'You were pretty fast’ he say, in disbelief that the ball of lard in front of him could even walk let alone run. 'Yeh, I probably still can’. Greg stares at your belly. 'What are you looking at?’ You say, 'your belly is out’ he chuckles and you look round your gut to see your belly button almost exposed. 'Oh darn this t-shirt, shrinking everything in the wash’ and you try to tug down. As you do your belly wobbles more and more, like a water balloon, and as one part of your t-shirt comes down, the other rides up further, compensating for the tightness of the fabric, the seams visibly straining

M: Greg, intrigued, questions - “Why don’t you just get those shoes and pants off and we can properly weight you over here on the scale to see what we are working with here.” I ease myself up, my love handles brushing the arms of the chairs as I stand up. “Ok that should be fine… I was planning on trying on my singlet while I was here though so I’m only wearing my jock strap.  Kinda awkward for you to see me like that but I hope that’s ok.” Greg eagerly answers “Oh yeah!!! No worries at all let’s get moving along then.” I jump up and down a little to pull the jeans over my ass and thighs, my belly wobbling up and down and my moobs jiggling wildly. Greg’s eyes grow wide. I finally get the pants down and there I stood in my “ten extra pounds” glory - now that Greg really could see the full picture of my weight gain, he was absolutely certain that I had packed on at least 50 pounds over the summer, if not more. I stood there in front of the scale, eager to step on and see the number just like this - 

H: Greg guides you over and you step on. The scale groans slightly as you stand there. Greg gets his pad and goes to look at the number, but it’s blocked from view by your huge bulging belly. He has to lean round it to look, 'you’re 210 lbs! Jesus boy, you weigh more than most of the football team! And you think you’re track?!’ He laughs and smacks your belly, it bounces up and down over your jock strap, that was cutting into your body like a cheese wire into soft mozzarella. 'No that can’t be right? Maybe I gained some muscle?’ You say in disbelief! You put your hands on your belly so steady the wobbling. He laughs again 'dude you need a reality check’ he pulls out the fat calipers. He grabs a huge wad of fat from your belly and clamps the calipers round. 'Oof’ you say as it pinches your doughy gut. He takes a few more from your love handles and does his sums. 'Tubs you’re 45% body fat’ you both look down at your body, and can see nothing past your soft round bulbous belly blocking the view’

M: “So, if I’m doing this math right— I’ve gained FIFTY THREE pounds??? There has to be something wrong… I realized I obviously put on some weight but I couldn’t have gained that much it’s … It’s… It’s near impossible!!” “You’re not kidding! You really must have been eating this summer kid. I don’t know how you did it. You bulked better than the football players do in training… Except no muscle was added here-” he slaps my gut heartily on one side and it rings out a loud thump into the office. Ripples spread across my gut in the jello-y fat. “Let me grab my singlet from my locker - I need to try It on and see how much progress I need to make.” I jog towards the locker room, my ass cheeks flapping up and down In the jockstrap and my gut lapping up and down over the strap at the front. I’m already breaking a sweat. I return with the singlet and begin to put my legs into it. Pull it up to my thighs, things start getting awfully tight. Then comes the belly it barely even begins to roll over it. I’m pushing my fat in and sucking my stomach in as far as I can, leaning back and heaving on the spandex but all its doing is digging into my lower gut and bouncing my pregnant belly up and down repeatedly. In a huff of sweat and exhaustion, I give up and let go of the singlet as I fall backwards into the chair behind me which groans at the sudden hit of 210 pounds. My belly rests like a beach ball comfortably upon my lap while sitting there. Greg’s mouth is agape having watched this tantalizing display in front of him.

H: With your belly perched and spread out in front of you, Greg finds it too tempting and comes over to give it a good slap. 'Oof’ you grown again. 'Come on wide load, I’ll give you a hand, you need someone who actually has muscles to get you into that thing’ he helps you up, you leaning round holding you back like a pregnant woman standing up. He then grabs the singlet and pulls it up hard. 'Suck in tubby’ he say as the singlet digs into your gut, you looking like a sausage bursting from its skin. You belly bounces and folds, rolls and rolls of fat bulging over every side of your swollen mid-section. Finally he manages to pull the singlet up and round your belly, you unable to breathe from holding in. Getting it round the chest was easy, you hadn’t grown much there, but Greg was so exhausted from hauling the singlet over your ridiculously fat belly that he fell to his knees, his face in front of your gut. 'We did it fat boy, you can breathe now.’ And he patted the side of your rounded bulging stomach. 'Phew’ you groan 'told you I’d fit’ and let your belly expand again, but the seam at the front of the singlet began to strain. It started to rip, 'pu-pu-pu-pu’ went the thread, Greg looked up just as it gave way. Your belly ripped through the singlet, expanding to its full width. The tightness of the material forced all your fat down and through the newly formed hole your belly was surging through and it came to rest sticking out, burying poor Greg’s face in its doughy lard.

M: I stumble backwards from Greg, feeling so embarrassed by what just happened “I’m so so sorry…!!! Ugh I’m so embarrassed. I guess I am way bigger than I thought I was…” Greg stands up and holds me by the shoulders “Listen, it’s going to be ok. We’re gonna get things in order here. Tip top shape. The perfect shape.” With a smirk Greg begins concocting his plan. “We’re gonna hit the gym right now. Throw on these gym shorts (which were way too tight around my ass and dug Deep into my underbelly) and wait for me outside the office.” I put on the shorts and exit out. Greg begins mixing a “protein shake” for the workout - weight gain powder, protein powder, an appetite enhancer and upset stomach reliever… Chocolate mix, some sugar, everything that would just ensure no weight would be lost but gained. He finally exits out and hands me the shake. “Now it’s really important while we work together to get you back to normal that you keep on drinking these shakes completely though while we are working out. I’ll always send you home with a second to have before bed too. Will get your metabolism back on track.” We head to the gym and only do about thirty minutes of easy cardio and weight exercises, but I’m already dripping with sweat, my tee shirt stuck to me like a sausage casing.  "Wasn’t that a pretty short workout?“ “Oh …. You know, we need to start out slowly do you can uh, ease into your new regiment” We exit the gym and I’ve finished the first shake. Greg hands me the second for before bed. “Make sure you drink this entire bottle! It’s essential to getting things back on track.” “Of course! I understand.” The 'workout’ left me starving however and I wanted so badly to be back at that bakery shoveling in cookies. Greg gave some encouraging advice: “So now that you are working these workouts and shakes into your diet and routine, you should be able to keep eating like normal, if not more, since you’re uh… Burning so many calories!” Keep up with these shakes and keep coming to see me for the workouts every day this week.

A week of his goes by, I am seeming happy with spending time with Greg and the workouts. But all Greg can notice is that his plan was falling into place. A few small stretch marks had formed across my left underbelly and the shorts were most visibly tighter across his ass. Hopefully he had at least put on another five or ten pounds in that week alone.

A story about a track athlete and gaining. 

This is my first fic. Kinda long, I know, but tell me what you think.

(Based on the fictional character of Cameron James)

I’ve always been a fit guy; during my teen years I played sports, football in particular, a little bit of swimming here and there. I never struggled with my weight since I always had toned muscles and hard abs from a young age. It perplexed me how someone could let themselves get so mislead, eventually resulting in themselves becoming overweight. A few close friends and I worked out with each other a few times a week, so that we could maintain and advance our muscular physiques, and as a group, we disfavoured those who were overweight. They weren’t like us; we were the ripped ones; the ones who girls obsessed over. I made sure my football jersey fitted snugly, so that my abs would pierce through the shirt. Same goes for my pants; they had to be loose enough so that I could still run, but tight enough so that you could see my thick, muscular thighs and bulge. I think it was safe to say, that I was the heartthrob of the school.

After training with my gym buds for over 5 months now, we each became ripped. We found ourselves having to upsize our normal clothes so that they could fit around our pecs and thighs. We weren’t complaining though; as far as we were concerned, we were obsessed over.

It was at school, in the cafeteria that I was served my lunch as I was each day. My friends got their food and saved me a seat at the table across the room. As I came to get my food, I noticed the server, a classmate of mine, Nate I think his name was, he had gained some serious weight over the summer break and there was no way I was gonna let this go unnoticed. “Hey, Nate is it? Make sure that you save some food around here for the rest of us, okay? Unlike you, some of us need to eat” Nate said nothing. I didn’t expect him to anyways. I was somewhat more outspoken that the rest of the guys I went to the gym with, even though we all shared the same thoughts. “Got nothing to say? I’m surprised since your mouth is clearly huge” Nate muttered something under his breath this time. Something about how what goes around comes around? Whatever that means. I sat with the guys and noticed my plate had been filled more so than anyone else’s. I didn’t think too much about about it; besides, I could do with some bulking up.

That night, after returning to my dorm, I felt myself craving. This was an unknown experience since I never over ate and never longed for more. I searched my cupboards for any energy bars or muscle shakes but couldn’t seem to find any. A quick trip to Walmart was overdue anyways. I quickly slipped on a tank, sweats and some sliders and before long, I was out the door.

After driving for a few minutes, this craving intensified and thoughts of chocolate and candy overcame me. Walking through the aisles of Walmart, I eventually came across the snack aisle. For what seemed like miles and miles, candy, chocolate, soda and snacks occupied my vision. I though to myself “when was the last time you had a cheat day.” I couldn’t honestly remember but it was long overdue. Before long, my basket was filled to the brim with Oreos, Graham Crackers, Marshmallows and Coke. “This should suffice my appetite” I thought. I sat in the parking lot with nothing but the streetlight, lighting my snacks. After chugging a gallon of milk along with all the other snacks, I rummaged through my bags until I was surprised to find that I had eaten it all. This wasn’t surprising though; I was a big guy after all; I needed the energy. As I began driving back to campus, I felt my bloated stomach nudge the steering wheel now and again. I had never in my life see my belly do that. Thinking about it, my sweats did feel tighter now; I almost felt suffocated by my tank. “I’m just bloated, right?” “Yeah, you’re just bloated. It will have gone down by the morning…”

I woke up the next morning, starving for breakfast. Never have I before felt staving for breakfast. I noticed some milk splashed across my tank from the night before so quickly went to change it before breakfast with the guys; didn’t want them to think anything of it. As I threw over my school jersey, I did notice it fitting more sung than a few days before. “Maybe I’m just bulking up?” “Probably that…”

I went downstairs in the tight-fitting sweats from the night before, and as I went up to Nate for food, he commented on my somewhat expanded waist. “Cameron, I think you might want to invest in some larger sweats, huh?” Something came over me. I felt this rush of aggravation and before I knew it, I had Nate by the collar, pulled across the counter and I said to him “listen, I’ll always be fit, I’ll all always be hot, I’ll always be obsessed over but what a shame I can’t say the same for you. You will always be fat and that ain’t never gonna change…” With no words spoken after that, Nate piled my plate high with food and I sat with the guys. They started scanning me for noticeable differences but couldn’t seem to put their fingers on it. “Have we had enough staring yet? I’m trying to eat…” “That’s it! Have you put on some weight since the last time we saw you?…” “What? No! Of course I haven’t! I’ve been working out just like you and if anything I’ve been getting fitter…” “Whatever you say, Cam…” The guys left for training and I said I’d catch up a little later. I went up for seconds and Nate refrained from saying anything. Boy did I put him in his place. To think that I would ever be similar to him, in an any aspect at all is crazy. I felt stuffed after my second plate and didn’t have the energy for practice that day, so I went back up to my dorm for a nap.

By the time I woke up, it was 1:33 am. My appetite was raging and I couldn’t control it. I remembered I made another trip to Walmart a few days after my prior trip so I had some Twinkie’s and half a gallon of milk left over. After devouring those, I decided that it was time for bed. As I was laying under the sheets, I noticed a bulge emerging from the duvet. “Was it my stomach?” “Can’t be…” Sure enough it was. I threw off my covers and pulled my tight tank off. My belly was so huge, I was struggling to see my feet laying down. I felt short-breathed and didn’t know what to do. Out of nervousness, I opened a bag of Doritos and curled up in bed; my stomach feeling soft and jiggly.

The next morning, I woke to find the guys standing over me, telling me that I was late for practice and if I missed it again, coach would suspend me indefinitely. I threw on my football jersey and pants and struggled at that. I ran down the stairs to the pitch, my shirt rising each step I took and my thighs rubbing with it. By the time I was on the pitch, my love handles escaped from my jersey and my thighs were thicker than ever before. I used to love that my my muscular thighs were on show, but now, I felt self conscious, each step I took. It became abundantly clear that I was not in the physical state to be playing football so I ran off for the cafeteria for a late breakfast.

Nate was there greeting me with food. “Would you like any more, or will this extinguish your appetite? It doesn’t matter, you’ll be back for seconds and thirds anyways…” “Just give me the food and you can return to your irrelevant life…” “Good one. (Looking me up and down) I guess we’re not so different after all, huh?” “We are nothing, and will never be, anything alike” I stormed off to a far enough table from everyone else and sat. As I did so, I felt my ass cheeks overhang the seats. I gripped my left butt cheek to find fat exploding out, between my fingertips. My ass used to hard, firm even. But now, it was soft and jiggled when j walked. My butt now looked like two balloons, ready to burst. As each cheek continued to slide, I hurriedly ate my food so I could retire to my dorm for the rest of the day, hopefully seeing as little people as possible.

I returned to my room, out of breath and sweaty, and looked at myself in the mirror. My butt has ballooned in size and began ripping most of the pants I wore. My love handles overhung the waistband of each pair of pants and hardly any shirts, tanks or t shirts fit over my huge belly anymore. “Could this…could this be the freshman fifteen?” “Freshman 15? More like freshman 30” I tried on most of the clothes in my closet to assure myself that I hadn’t in fact gained any weight, and I was still the ripped, muscular hunk I had always been. The first pair of pants, some beige chinos struggled to fit over my thighs. They were both so juicy now, not even my underwear fitted. They swayed as I walked and left me feeling suffocated as I wore anything below the waist. I pulled and pulled and pulled, and as I finally managed to get the button done up, off it popped; hitting the mirror and cracking it. This was the same for most of the rest of the pants I tried on, same with the shirts too. My sweatpants were the only things that relatively got me at the moment but even then, my belly overhung by 4-5 inches. It was bad. “How had I let myself become what I once thought as hideous? Was I…was I lien Nate after all?” Just the thought of that made me sick to my bloated stomach. I felt beat and I fell into my bed. But as I did so, my last pair of stained sweatpants ripped in the thighs, crotch and ass. I instantly burst into tears. I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. There was no way in hell that I could lose all this weight before I left school, so I would have to walk around looking like this for the next 3 years.

I got in my car that evening and ran to the Walmart clothes department. I think I remember hearing that Nate got his clothes from there so they must stock larger sizes. I was usually a 30" waist but knew I had got bigger since then. “Maybe a 32”, 34"?“ I tried both sizes on and neither made it passed my thick, juicy thighs again. I screwed it and grabbed the biggest size they had; a 42”. “Sure they’ll be big but at least they’ll fit, I guess” I tried on the 42" and on did it just make it over me flabby ass. Even then it overhung slightly and a fat pudge overhung the front of the sweats. Stuffing my face with more Twinkie’s, I drove back to campus and decided to weigh myself. I think when I first came here, I was maybe 120 lbs, and then bulked up to 175" with muscle. Those were the days. “How bad can it really be?” “279” “No. No no no no no. This can’t be. The scale must be broken” I stepped of and stepped on again. “279” In tears I rolled into bed.

Gainer fiction

Wren Adkins was a rising model; working for brands like Calvin Klein, Dior and Burberry appeared as if no deal. Wren was ripped, the reason he appealed to so many brands; his chiseled bone structure, defined abs, muscular biceps. He was the whole package, a package that wasn’t seen too often. With his appearance however, came Wren’s attitude. He would often walk out of shoots and appearances if the circumstances weren’t right for him, despite him being paid an unthinkable amount of money. It was the case of divo if ever there were one. Wren became hardened by the money and fame, forgetting about those who supported him from the beginning; he wanted nothing to do with anyone below his social status. Via social media, Wren would flaunt himself to his 30 million+ followers. Comments would stream in about how attractive and hot he was, how many girls would die for him, merely adding fire to the flames. Wren lived for this. He couldn’t imagine a life without the fame and fortune.

Wren was working on a shoot for Calvin Klein, modelling in a pair of fitted, white briefs. Wren wasn’t shook by the attention he received by neither the crew nor camera, it only increased his confidence and vanity. The underwear clung to his apparent bulge and muscular thighs, the briefs hugged his bulging butt which Wren wasn’t shy of. Provided he was being paid, he’d go in the nude for all he cared.

Despite Wren’s growing popularity and success amongst the modelling industry, he became bored; bored of merely standing in front of a camera and posing, even though he loved the attention. He wanted to branch in to acting, so that he could reach a wider audience and show himself off more so than he could with modelling. His manager arranged a meeting with the director of a new movie, expected to rake in millions in the box office. As soon as Wren heard the word “millions”, his eyes lit up and the contract was signed. “Wren, even though I think this is a wise business deal, don’t you want to at least read the contract first?” Wren’s manager enquired. “Listen, if it’ll make me even more rich and famous than I already am, just do it…” Within the hour, Wren was handed the script and began reading. His manger initially brought the script to Wren’s attention because it seemed somewhat similar to his actual life; a rising model, who loses sight of what’s most important and subsequently loses job opportunities, loses his once perfect physique, and lives the life of an ordinary person; except Wren still had his perfect physique and job opportunities were rolling in daily. For the role however, Wren had to put on a minimum of 60 lbs so that he could truly emulate his soon to be self in the movie. “What the fuck, Dan, why didn’t you warn me about this? Remind me to fire you before the end of the week…” “If you care to remember, I did try to warn you about reading the contract first before signing…” “I don’t remember anything of the sort… Just get me out of this damn contract, Dan. I can’t have myself putting on all this weight and have my perfect body disappear.” “I’ll do that if you want me to, but it’ll cost you millions, not mention the bad publicity you’ll revive for backing out of an already signed contract…” “Shit. So what you’re saying is that there’s nothing I can do?…” “That’s exactly what I’m saying…”

Once filming had begun, Wren tried to flatter himself out of the role, but was quickly shut down by the director. It finally hit him that if he was to keep his fame and fortune, he’d have to put on some weight. “What’s 60 lbs anyway, right?…” Wren internally thought. “I’ll be able to lose it in no time…” Wren was given 12 weeks to put on the weight and so hesitantly did so. He started slow, supplementing his salads for burgers, and water for milkshakes. He hated what he was putting into his gorgeous body, but knew he had to. It took a few weeks to lose his abs but eventually they seems like a distant memory. During the fourth week, there were several nights where Wren cried him sled to sleep because of his new body. He regained from posting on social media until he lost all the weight to avoid any social embarrassment from his tens of millions of fans. Between meals, he forced himself to snack; chocolate bars, milkshakes, full packets of Twinkie’s, the list went on. Even though Wren hated himself for how he looked, he began to enjoy the experience. He hadn’t eaten the food he was now eating for several years because of his strict diet regime. It became almost pleasing for Wren, being able to eat as much as he wanted, knowing that that was the goal, to put on weight.

There was a six week check in so that the director could see how Wren’s body and changed in that time. It was expected of him to put on 30 lbs since the beginning of his weight gain period. Wren, stripped down in his restricting Calvin Klein briefs, that might I add fitted him well in the beginning, stepped on the scale and was measured around his waist by a crew member. Wren had never, in the entirety of his life been self conscious of his body so this was a whole new experience for him. He hesitantly untied his robe before stepping on the scales, prevailing his new body. Wren’s belly now overhung his underwear, so much so, that it jiggled every step he took. Perky love handles had grown on both sides; grababble and squeezable. He now had full-blown moobs that now substituted his stone-hard pecs. Wren had become soft to the touch. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t sway as he walked. His ass were as if two balloons had been stuffed down his underwear and his thighs now rubbed together and clapped as he sat. Everyone around him knew that this would be hard to come back from, but Wren remained optimistic. “225 (lbs)” was pronounced before Wren, his manager and the director. “225?” The director exclaimed. “But he was only meant to be at 210… I guess you take this role seriously, huh?…” Wren began the process at approximately 180 lbs, that all being muscle, so he couldn’t comprehend the his actual weight. “That can’t be right, check again. You must’ve messed up the reading, are you blind or something?…” The crew member checked again. “225” “Listen here, whatever your name is, I am NOT, 225 lbs, okay? Is that too much for your tiny brain to process?” Listen, I’m just here to read the scales…“ Wren nervously peered down, only to see ‘225’ on the scale. He shooed the crew member away, only to be greeted by another, one that would measure his waist size so that they would know how to tailor his clothes when it came time to filming. “42” waist…“ "What is with everyone today, reading my measurements wrong? I was a 30” before all this so there’s no way I’m a 42” now! Jesus, just saying that sounds disgusting…“ “See for yourself then… 42”“ To Wren’s ultimate surprise, the measuring tape read 42” he could fathom the thought of none of his old clothes fitting anymore; he’d been living in adjustable sweatpants so didn’t notice the difference so severely. “Well, Wren, this is hopeful.” The director added. “Even after this gain, you still haven’t put on the 60 lbs get so keep eating…” “But I can’t, look at me! I’m huge…” “By contract, you’re gonna eat, and don’t bother coming back until you’ve put in that 60 lbs…” Wren huffed as he walked away, his everything jiggling as he moved. He dropped his ring as he began walking so bent down to retrieve it. As he did so. He white Calvin Klein briefs ripped, splitting down the whole of the back, exposing his dimpled ass cheeks. Wren was mortified; a crew of 100+ people saw his fat ass and were laughing at it. He ran to the changing room to squeeze on his tracksuit pants and fitted tank.

Out of depression and humiliation, Wren ate, and ate, and ate, completely forgetting about his end weight goal. He sat on the couch, one hand wiping away the tears, the other reaching for chips at the bottom of the bag. He sat for hours, his ass imprinting the couch, each hour, more so than the last. This continued for the next few weeks, until he’d burst out of his expanded sweats. A trip to the plus sized section of Walmart was necessary if he was to ever leave the apartment, even though that was the last thing Wren wanted.

The end of the 12 weeks was up and Wren was overjoyed he he could finally stop stuffing his greedy face and gaining weight. He headed to the studio, only to be greeted by the director and measurers. It had become apparent to everyone now that Wren was obese. He was now unrecognisable to anyone he passed. “Maybe this was a bad business venture…” Wren’s manager whispered. “You think? Just look at me, dumbass…” Wren replied. He stepped on the scale and what appeared left everyone surrounding gasping. “280” “WHAT THE FUCK?” This isn’t fucking happening. There is no way in hell I could’ve put on that much weight. Check agin you idiot!…“ "It says 280 and I hate to be the one to break it to you, but that ain’t changing, fatty…” Wren became enraged and as he went to grab the collar of the measurer, his weigh left him unbalanced and he fell to the floor, his fat spilling out either side of him.