It does feel like the feedee is consuming the feeder sometimes lol Mindlessly eating and feeling my brain rewire itself. Stuffing and gaining watching myself get bigger, wondering when will I be too far gone and fully committed to gaining.

Maybe they're kept in a pocket dimension, or in a vestibule between spacial planes. Maybe Whumper needs to draw Whumpee within themselves just to make sure their human's flesh doesn't slough away.

It started as just a silly thought. A harmless, private fantasy you entertained for fun as you stared at that photo on your screen.

The man was perfect. Towering. Powerful. Hairy in all the right ways. His beard was full, dark, and trimmed with effortless confidence. His chest, a thick spread of coarse hair dusting over slabs of muscle. His eyes calm, steady, like he knew exactly who he was—and what he could do.

Alex.

By day, he was a mild-mannered accountant, crunching numbers in a sterile office. But by night, he became someone entirely different.

It all started innocently enough. One evening, Alex stumbled upon a leather shop tucked away in a dimly lit alley. Curiosity piqued, he ventured inside, drawn by the smell of rich, supple leather and the promise of hidden desires.

As he ran his fingers over the sleek jackets and rugged boots, something stirred within him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, a sense of exhilaration mixed with a hint of taboo. And when he slipped on a leather jacket, the world shifted.

Suddenly, Alex felt more alive than ever before. The cool touch of the leather against his skin sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't help but admire his reflection in the mirror. Gone was the shy accountant; in his place stood a confident, powerful man.

From that moment on, Alex's life took on a new rhythm. He sought out leather wherever he could find it, reveling in the way it made him feel alive and free. He attended leather events and gatherings, immersing himself in the vibrant subculture that welcomed him with open arms.

But along the way, Alex faced challenges too. He grappled with his own insecurities and fears, worried about what others might think of his newfound passion. Yet with each step he took, he found strength in his authenticity, embracing his identity as a gay man who loved to wear leather.

And as he walked through the city streets, head held high and leather-clad, Alex knew one thing for certain: he had discovered a part of himself he never knew existed, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

One fateful evening, Alex decided to take his exploration of leather to the next level. He ventured into a renowned gay leather club, drawn by the promise of a community that understood and embraced his desires.

Inside the dimly lit club, the air was thick with anticipation and the scent of leather mingled with the heady aroma of cigars. As Alex made his way through the crowd, he couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over him.

It was there, in the heart of the club, that he discovered his love for cigars. Entranced by the sight of men puffing on their smoldering sticks, he hesitantly accepted an offer to try one for himself.

As the rich, earthy flavor enveloped his senses, Alex felt a rush of pleasure unlike anything he had experienced before. The smoke danced on his tongue, filling him with a sense of warmth and contentment.

From that moment on, cigars became a staple of Alex's leather-clad adventures. He relished the ritual of lighting up, the camaraderie shared with fellow enthusiasts, and the way the smoke added an extra layer of intensity to his experiences.

With each visit to the leather club, Alex discovered more about himself and the vibrant subculture he had become a part of. And as he indulged in his love for leather and cigars, he found a sense of liberation and empowerment that he had never known before.

As Alex continued to immerse himself in the leather community and embrace his newfound passions, he decided to take another bold step: he grew a beard.

At first, it was just a stubble, a hint of rugged masculinity that complemented his leather-clad persona. But as time went on, Alex let his beard grow longer and fuller, until it became a defining feature of his appearance.

With each passing day, the beard became more than just a symbol of his masculinity; it became a symbol of his confidence and self-assurance. Running his fingers through the coarse hair, Alex felt a sense of pride in the person he had become.

As he walked through the city streets, leather jacket hugging his frame, cigar smoke trailing behind him, and beard framing his face, Alex felt like he was truly living life on his own terms. And with each passing day, he discovered new depths to his identity, finding joy and fulfillment in every aspect of his journey.

With his confidence soaring and his sense of self solidifying, Alex delved deeper into his exploration of leather. One day, while browsing through a leather boutique, he stumbled upon a pair of leather chaps.

Intrigued by their rugged appeal and the way they showcased his legs, Alex couldn't resist trying them on. As he fastened the buckles and adjusted the straps, he felt a surge of excitement course through him.

Stepping in front of the mirror, Alex admired his reflection. The leather chaps hugged his thighs snugly, accentuating every curve and contour of his body. He felt powerful, alluring, and completely in command of his desires.

From that moment on, leather chaps became a staple of Alex's wardrobe. Whether he was strutting through the streets or dancing the night away at the leather club, he always felt like the truest version of himself when he wore them.

Embracing his love for leather chaps was just another step in Alex's journey of self-discovery. With each new revelation, he felt more liberated and empowered, unapologetically embracing every aspect of his identity as a gay man who loved to wear leather. And as he continued to explore and celebrate his passions, he knew that the best was yet to come.

my skin is so tingly

i got so crisp out there today @_@

went through a bunch of spring/summer clothes to see how they fit now, and if i still like them and aaaaa

1.) dragging sleeves along sunburnt arms feels like shit no matter how old you are, apparently

2.) y'all are gonna love these upcoming fit pics because aaaa the pastels and the drapeys and the laceys and the bows are coming back

3.) the TJAProjects dress fits like a glove again

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ . I AM PAINED, YET VICTORIOUS. ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Going Big or Going Home

Casey stared at her reflection, a familiar frustration bubbling in her chest. She wanted to be stronger, to feel powerful, but the thought of dedicating every evening to a crowded, sweaty gym filled her with dread. Her commitment was about as solid as a chocolate teapot. After another failed attempt at a consistent routine, she turned to her laptop, diving into the rabbit hole of online fitness forums and supplement ads.

Most of it was garbage. "Shred-X," "Testo-Boost," "Mega-Mass"—all promising miraculous results with the fine print revealing they were little more than overpriced whey and caffeine. She was about to give up when an ad for GlutaMax popped up. The spokeswoman, a woman with a physique that was powerful yet feminine, filled the screen. Her workout gear was a sleek, dark bodysuit that hugged every curve, and Casey couldn't deny the appeal. It was a mix of desperation and a sudden, intense curiosity that made her click "Buy Now."

The powder arrived a few days later. The marketing was slick, featuring several models who all swore their newfound bulk was thanks to GlutaMax. Casey figured, what did she have to lose? She started mixing a scoop into her morning smoothie, her workouts remaining sporadic at best.

Two weeks in, she felt it. A strange, humming energy beneath her skin. While reaching for a high shelf, she noticed the distinct, solid curve of her bicep. She flexed in the bathroom mirror, and there it was—actual muscle definition, faint but undeniable. She also noticed her jeans felt a bit snugger around her rear, but she brushed it off. "Just part of the bulk," she told herself. "Gaining weight everywhere."

Encouraged, she doubled her intake. The changes accelerated. Her friends started commenting. "Casey, you must be living at the gym now," one said, eyeing the solid lines of her shoulders and arms. Her muscles weren't the chiseled kind you'd see on a bodybuilder, but they had a substantial, powerful look to them. Her ass, however, was becoming impossible to ignore. It was noticeably rounder, fuller, and had begun to feel… different. A strange sensitivity was blooming there, a feeling she only associated with her breasts. She'd sit down and feel a jolt of awareness, a warmth that was both confusing and intriguing. She kept telling people her body was just "adjusting," but she was starting to have her doubts.

She finished the entire tub of GlutaMax. She felt fantastic—stronger, healthier, more energetic than ever before. She could lift heavy boxes at work without a second thought and carry all her groceries in one trip. Yet, when she looked in the mirror, she saw no bodybuilder. She just looked like a very fit, curvy version of herself. A very, very curvy version. Her ass was now huge, a prominent, soft-yet-firm shelf that strained against the fabric of her skirts and pants.