Synopsis: A cocky and mean college football player treats everyone like garbage. What could go wrong?

Friday night under the lights, and I was fucking unstoppable. Three touchdowns, two of them in the last quarter when everyone else was dragging ass and gasping for air. Not me though. I was still running circles around those pathetic defenders like they were standing still. The crowd was going absolutely insane, chanting my name, and yeah—I fucking loved it. This is what I live for.

I caught the winning touchdown with thirty seconds left on the clock, and the stadium erupted. My teammates mobbed me like I was some kind of god, which, let's be honest, on this field I basically am. Coach was grinning ear to ear, probably already thinking about how my performance is going to look on his resume. The local sports reporters swarmed me after the game, shoving microphones in my face, asking me how it feels to be the star player for the third week in a row.

"Feels like another day at the office," I told them with my trademark smirk, flexing just enough that my jersey stretched tight across my chest and shoulders. I could see the camera guy zooming in. Good. Let everyone see what a real athlete looks like.

In the locker room, I stripped off my jersey and caught my reflection in the mirror. Fucking perfect. My abs were carved like they'd been chiseled from marble—a perfect six-pack that I'd worked my ass off for. My pecs were solid, my arms were thick with muscle, and my V-cut was so deep you could trace it with your finger. I took a quick selfie, just my torso, the fluorescent lights hitting my body just right to show off every ridge and valley of muscle. Posted it to Instagram with the caption: "Another W. You're welcome." Within minutes, the likes were pouring in.

The boys wanted to celebrate, obviously. We hit up this party at one of the frat houses, the kind where the beer flows freely and everyone wants a piece of the football team. I walked in and immediately owned the room. People parted for me like I was royalty, girls and guys both checking me out, wanting to get close to the star of the game.

Phil was there, nursing a beer in the corner. Phil's a decent guy, I guess—plays linebacker, does his job—but fuck, he's slow. I mean, he gets the tackles eventually, but watching him try to keep up during drills is painful sometimes.

"Hey, Phil!" I called out, walking over and slapping him hard on the shoulder. "Nice work out there tonight, man. Well, I mean, you were a little slow on that play in the third quarter. Thought you were going to let that receiver walk right past you."

Phil gave me a tight smile. "Yeah, well, we won, didn't we?"

"Because of me," I said, grinning. "You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. But hey, you did... adequate work."

He didn't laugh as much as I expected. Whatever. Phil's always been a little sensitive.

I grabbed a beer and scanned the room, and that's when I saw him. This twink, maybe twenty, twenty-one, with the most fuckable bubble butt I'd seen in weeks. Tight jeans that showed off every curve, a crop top that revealed a sliver of his flat stomach. He had that look—the one that said he knew exactly what he wanted and was just waiting for someone like me to give it to him.

I caught his eye across the room and gave him the look. You know the one. The look that says, "I'm going to fuck you tonight, and you're going to love every second of it." He bit his lip and looked away, playing coy, but I could see the flush creeping up his neck.

Five minutes later, I had him pressed against the bathroom sink, his jeans around his ankles, my hand gripping his hip. He was moaning my name, telling me how hot I was, how he'd been watching me all night. Of course he had. Everyone watches me.

"You like that?" I growled in his ear, and he could barely form words, just nodding frantically.

Afterward, I left him there to clean himself up while I went back to the party like nothing had happened. Phil gave me a look when I came out, like he knew exactly what I'd been doing, but he didn't say anything. He never does.

Monday morning, I was walking across campus when I spotted Ed waddling toward the dining hall. Ed is this fat fuck who must weigh over 400 pounds, easy. I don't even know how he fits in the desks in class. Every time I see him, I'm disgusted. Like, how do you let yourself get that big? Have some fucking self-control.

"Yo, Ed!" I called out, jogging to catch up with him. He turned, and I could see the dread in his eyes. Good. "Maybe you should lay off the burgers, man. Looking a little... hefty."

His face went red, and he mumbled something I couldn't hear.

"What's that? Couldn't hear you over the sound of your arteries clogging." I laughed and pulled out a pig sticker I'd grabbed from the campus store—one of those cartoon pigs with a curly tail. I slapped it on his back as I walked past him. "There you go, buddy. Suits you."

I heard him make a sound, maybe a protest, but I was already walking away. Phil was nearby, and I expected him to laugh, but instead, he just looked at me with this weird expression.

"What?" I said. "It's funny."

"Yeah," Phil said flatly. "Hilarious."

"Don't be such a dick," I muttered. Phil's been weird lately. I don't know what his problem is.

That night, I was scrolling through Grindr, because why not? I'm always getting messages from guys who want a piece of me, and most of them are pathetic. Fat guys, old guys, guys who clearly haven't seen the inside of a gym in years. It's like they think they have a chance with someone like me.

One message caught my eye, though. It was from this guy, Alex. I remembered him from a few months ago—he'd been hot, lean, with a decent body. But when I clicked on his profile, I almost laughed out loud. The dude had blown up. He must have put on fifty pounds, easy. He had a double chin, his stomach was pushing out over his waistband in his photos, and his arms looked soft and doughy.

"Dude, what happened to you?" I typed back. "You were hot before. Now you're disgusting. Get your shit together if you want a good fuck."

I attached a photo of myself—shirtless, of course, showing off my perfect six-pack and the deep V-cut leading down to my waistband. The lighting was perfect, highlighting every muscle.

"This is what you're missing," I added. "Maybe hit the gym and we can talk."

He didn't respond. Probably too embarrassed. As he should be.

Tuesday afternoon, Phil insisted we grab McDonald's. I didn't really want to—I usually meal prep and keep my diet clean—but Phil was being weirdly persistent about it.

"Come on, man," he said. "Just this once. I'm craving it."

"That's why you're so slow on the field," I told him as we pulled into the drive-through. "Eating this shit. Your body's a temple, Phil. Or it should be."

He ordered a Big Mac meal, large fries, and a Coke. I got a grilled chicken sandwich and a water, because I actually give a fuck about my body.

We sat in his car in the parking lot, and I watched as Phil picked at his fries, barely eating anything. He took a few bites of his burger and then set it down.

"I'm not that hungry," he said.

"Are you serious?" I stared at him. "You dragged me here and now you're not going to eat?"

"You can have it if you want."

I rolled my eyes. "You're such a dick, you know that?" But I wasn't going to let good food go to waste, even if it was junk. I grabbed his burger and fries and finished them off. They tasted better than I expected, greasy and salty. Phil watched me eat with this strange expression on his face.

"What?" I said through a mouthful of fries.

"Nothing," he said. "Just... nothing."

Wednesday was huge. Professional recruiters came to meet with me and Coach. These guys were the real deal—scouts from actual pro teams who'd been watching my game footage and were interested in seeing me play in person. They were coming to the game next month, and if I performed well—which, let's be honest, I always do—I'd be on my way to the big leagues.

"This is it," I told Phil after the meeting. "I'm going to be rich and famous. Pro contract, endorsements, the whole deal."

"That's great, man," Phil said, but his expression was weird. He looked almost... sad? Or maybe guilty? I didn't know and didn't care.

"What's with the face?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm happy for you. Really."

"You're so dumb sometimes," I muttered. Phil's always been a little off, but whatever. I was too pumped about the recruiters to care.

Thursday's practice was brutal. Coach had us running drills for two hours straight, and by the end, most of the guys were barely standing. Not me, though. I was still running circles around them, showing off, making sure everyone remembered who the real star was.

After practice, Phil came up to me with a protein shaker.

"Here," he said. "Try this. It's a new flavor I've been testing out."

I took it and sniffed it. Smelled like chocolate and something else, something sweet and rich. I took a sip and my eyes widened. It was fucking amazing. Creamy, thick, with this incredible flavor that was way better than any protein shake I'd ever had.

"Dude, what is this?" I asked, chugging more of it.

"Just a new blend," Phil said, watching me carefully. "You like it?"

"It's incredible. Where'd you get it?"

"Online. I can get you more if you want."

"Yeah, definitely." I finished the whole thing in less than a minute. "That was seriously good."

Phil smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Glad you liked it."

Friday morning, I walked into my sociology class and nearly groaned out loud when the professor started announcing semester project partners. I wasn't really paying attention until I heard my name.

"...and you'll be working with Ed."

I looked up sharply. "Wait, what?"

The professor repeated it, and I turned to see Ed sitting a few rows back, looking just as unhappy as I felt. Are you fucking kidding me? I had to work with the fat fuck I'd been mocking all week?

"This is bullshit," I muttered under my breath.

I didn't want to be anywhere near that guy. Just looking at him made me uncomfortable, like his fatness was contagious or something. The thought of having to sit next to him, work with him, maybe even go to his place or have him come to mine... it was disgusting.

At least he'd probably do all the work. Fat guys like him usually try extra hard to please people, right? I could just coast through this project, let him handle everything, and collect my grade at the end.

Still, the whole situation pissed me off. I was a star athlete with professional recruiters interested in me. I shouldn't have to waste my time on some stupid group project with a guy who couldn't even see his own feet.

I caught Phil's eye across the room. He was in the same class, and he gave me this look—almost like he was trying not to smile.

What the fuck was that about?

Whatever. I had bigger things to worry about. The recruiters were coming next month, and I needed to stay focused. Stay in peak condition. Keep being the best.

Nothing was going to change that.

Just being a big boy

so here are a few scenarios that keep plaguing my mind:

Purposely causing your shirt to ride up when you stretch and watching me get flustered simply by catching a glimpse of your belly

Having me beg to feed you

Taunting me, saying you're not hungry and going to get a snack right after. Seeing me squirm before saying "use your words, angel" and letting me feed you the rest only after I do

Watching me desperately try to add up all the calories before placing the order when I'm already way too turned on to even think straight

"Only good girls get to play with this belly"

Why you'll keep getting fatter

Disclaimer: this is simplified. Biology is incredibly complex, some of these topics haven't been fully researched yet. I'm no doctor.

What regulates your weight?

You might believe that you're in control of your weight, but you're. Your weight is mainly controlled by hormones. Think about how many times you decided not to overeat and lose weight and how many times you eventually gave in to the cravings. Those cravings are caused by hormones and how your body/brain interprets them. Two of those hormones are grehlin and leptin. To oversimplify this, grehlin tells your body that you're hungry, leptin tells your body that you're satiated. Grehlin is mainly produced by your gut, leptin by your adipocytes. Adipocytes form adipose tissue, or as I like to call it, that blubbery layer of lard that just keeps growing.

Your body is designed to stay around a normal, healthy weight, which lies between a BMI of 18 and 25 for most people. (I'm aware BMI isn't really a good measure, but we'll ignore that for now since it really doesn't matter for this post). Your body is designed in a way where when you gain some weight, your adipose tissue will signal your body to eat less, through release of leptin. So your body both regulates fat storage and appetite. You have an internal system that should technically prevent you from overeating and becoming obese.

So why do you keep eating?

When you're reading this, you're probably overweight. Your fat cells should be telling you to eat less. So why do you still keep eating so much? That's largely due to what you're eating. Our brains and digestive systems have evolved to deal with natural, whole foods. From meat over vegetables to dairy products. But how often to you prepare a meal from whole ingredients? Have you ever? You'll probably opt for store-bought foods, perhaps ready-to-eat. You might skip grocery shopping all together and just order takeout. But no matter whether you're buying a bag of bread or are ordering McDonald's again, the food you consume is likely to be ultra-processed. While the definition of ultra-processed food is extensive and partially vague, some key characteristics are to replace whole foods, be hyper palatable, highly profitable to the companies who make them, and designed to be over-consumed. It's an capitalistic abomination of what used to be food.

Ultra-processed food contains many ingredients that were never a part of the human diet. Those ingredients simply didn't exist. Modified starches, gums, or processed vegetable oils are just a few of the industry favorites. They allow for the creation of pretty much any texture, from fluffy over creamy to crunchy. Add some artificial flavors, sugar and salt, and you can have anything you want. What's best is that these added ingredients mess with your hormonal regulations. They bypass your body's feedback system of when you've had enough. You don't keep eating until you're satiated. You keep eating until you're full. The food industry makes more money, you gain more weight.

What happens if you keep eating?

As you eat more, your body will store excess energy as lipids (fat) in adipocytes (fat cells). At first, adipocytes just expand. When you're in your mid 20s or older, your adipocytes aren't meant to multiply anymore. After all, you're not designed to get obese anyways. But since you'll ignore satiation when eating ultra-processed food, you'll keep gaining more weight. Your body might try telling you to stop eating, but ultra-processed food silences those calls.

What makes this interesting is that the amount of adipocytes is meant to be stable. They'll only multiply when they can't grow any bigger, and they're really difficult to break down again. After all, why would your body have evolved in a way where it'll directly get rid of important energy storages the second you burn through some of the fuel?

If you keep eating while already having enough fat reserves, your adipocytes will release increasingly more leptin, trying to tell you that you've eaten enough. But you keep lifting that fork and shoveling more down your throat, thanks to those ultra-processed ingredients. You leave your adipocytes no option but to multiply. You're becoming obese.

What happens if you get obese?

A lot of things start to change on a hormonal level when you become obese. So much, that I won't even attempt to cover all of it in this post. One change I find quite interesting is that as your adipocytes release increasingly more leptin, your receptors start getting used to the concentration of them and become desensitized. You're generally losing the ability to sense satiation, no matter what you eat. From here on out, you won't stop eating when you've had enough. If that were the case, you'd barely be eating anything, given how fat you already are. Instead, you'll keep eating until you're physically full.

As you begin to eat until you're physically full, your stomach will expand and you'll have higher releases of grehlin, making you more hungry. You feel strong hunger and low satiation. You're always snacky. How could you not continue eating? The best part of this is that grehlin promotes fat storage. You'll be more hungry, have lost the ability to properly sense when you're full, are destined to overeat, and become more likely to gain even more weight. This is when things begin to spiral.

The inescapable cycle forms.

At this point, I want to introduce our favorite hormone, dopamine. Dopamine isn't just released for pleasure and reward, but for motivation as well. Without dopamine, you wouldn't be doing anything. Dopamine is what gets you moving and keeps you going. It plays a large role in your behavioral feedback system, which tells you which behaviors/actions are good for you, and which are not. When you're obese, you'll probably have associated ultra-processed food with dopamine already. Eating feels rewarding.

What makes this really interesting is that grehlin and dopamine are connected. Grehlin increases dopamine release, which means that you won't just feel hungry, but also a strong motivation or craving to eat. Sound familiar? As you overeat more and grow fatter, this effect only strengthens. If you think back to when you were a few (dozen/hundred) pounds lighter, you probably didn't feel as hungry and snacky as you do now. Although now, you really don't need any food at all anymore. Every pound of fat provides enough energy for about 1.5-2 days. You could probably go without food for months, yet you crave it more than ever before. The reason is simple: you've destroyed the system that regulated your appetite and weight.

The slippery slope of gluttony

Many people refer to what I've talked about so far as the "slippery slope of gluttony", including myself. It starts with just a few pounds, when you grow a bit of a belly and start dipping into the obese range. But it's not just addiction or dopamine that keep you going. It's your appetite and weight regulation that are being fucked by you over-consuming over-processed food. It's like breaking the thermostat on a radiator. You don't know when to stop anymore.

You don't even need to eat junk food for this, as almost anything you'll find in a store is ultra-processed. Even many of the "healthy" options. You can try going for low sugar, low fat, low sodium, and any other diet product as much as you want. You'll still over-consume it and gain more weight. Those foods are designed that way. The more you eat, the more you consume, the more money food corporations make by making you obese. They're pouring billions into researching new ingredients to make their foods more hyper palatable and more addictive. You don't stand a chance.

The best part

Either you got here because this is your fetish, or because gaining weight turned into your fetish. What I wrote so far should alarm you. Billion-dollar corporations making over-processed foods, designed to replace whole foods, be over-consumed, while fucking up your hormonal regulations. The more you consume, the fatter you get, the more they profit. All across the world, especially in western countries, obesity rates are going through the roof. Every year, people get fatter. Why buy a whole-grain handmade (not ultra-processed) loaf of bread from a bakery when you can buy ultra-processed industrial bread for ¼ of the price? Capitalism turned fattening you up into a very profitable business.

But does this alarm you? Or are you edging while reading this, loving how fucked up and dystopian this sounds? Now that you know how helpless you are in the first place, do you want to deliberately dive in deeper? Do you want to see just how bad it can get? It's not your fault anyways, it's the system.

One of the most successful ways of losing weight has been ozempic, which increases your leptin sensitivity, allowing you to properly sense satiation again. Yes, you'd have to take drugs for your hormonal regulations to work properly again. That's how fucked up you are. The second people stop using it, they blow back up.

Where do we go from here?

The ghrelin-dopamine + over-processed foods combination will always make you overeat again, just like you've done so many times already. It doesn't matter whether you try to lose weight or go on a strict diet. You might be able to lose some weight, but you'll blow up again eventually. Your hormonal regulations are fucked. You're destined to keep getting fatter and except from taking drugs, there is little you can do.

So why not accept this? Why not accept that you're fucked? You're not to blame, and it's certainly not your fault that everything is over-processed and designed to be over-consumed. And if you're being honest, doesn't the thought of a system that's designed to fatten people up for profit turn you on? Isn't that a pretty hot feederism fantasy come to life?

When I was starting my feedee journey yearsssss ago I blissfully found out lard is the best fat for infusions and also gains. Not only is it dirt cheap but it just makes you appreciate dessert on a whole new level. I rmb I was supposed to make a tray of brownies for a girls night but ended up eating the whole tray cuz it just made everything more gooey, more tasty, more chewy, more fattening…….

Like being high brings a stuffing to a whole other level like not only was a carton of ice cream gone but it also makes you realize chocolate is very much a beverage.

I love how greedy & hedonistic it makes you like it’s not good enough you just finished 3000+ cal in one sitting like you also need to order a family meal to really treat ur belly.

It’s like your belly is an extension of you while it’s extending from you. You get lost if the goal is to see how much you can stretch, how much you can eat, or how much you can weigh after your done. Like it’s challenging ur belly that’s it’s questionable if it’s a punishment.

The best part is when ur greed is accommodated in your life like carrying weed oil to sprinkle over your dinner with your friends also accompanying the shots of tequila that are so strong but goes down into the abyss that is your belly

So much food it feels like you’re carrying a small ecosystem. I also love the more high you get the more numb and relax your body is that you just have more cocktails or some smokes because you know it will create more room.

I love how when creating room and you stretch marks are throbbing the chair starts squeaking and it’s almost like you have to see what will make it break.

Creating more room it doesn’t matter if you have to be constantly belching or farting or ask your friend/date/partner next to you to help rub your gut cuz you can’t reach it and also your way too focused shoving more food in your face

I still can’t believe I’ve gotten so fat that I can pleasure myself with my own thighs. I just can’t help myself

——

hi this is one of the hottest vids I’ve ever seen omfg HELLO??????????

sorry idk what else to say.

“I just can’t help myself” like 🥴🥴🥴 yeah your fat makes you so horny you can’t help but rut against your soft overhang like a needy pig? you got so fat it’s easier to just fuck your own belly?

I'm starting to feel myself 'puff' out more... belly gains are slowing, and the rest of me is starting to catch up... stuffing in the nude is becoming the only comfortable way to do it.

Eurgh... I'm getting so fat