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I want to see her slowly lose inhibitions as the drugs take over her brain and she becomes too horny to care that I’m there.

I want to see her go from eating one bite at a time to shoving food down her face and moaning while she does it.

I want to see her sneak and play with her gut while she thinks I’m not looking.

I want her to burp and laugh it off like each one doesn’t make both of us wetter.

I want her to pull her shirt over her gut every 5 minutes.

I want her to raid the fridge after her huge meal… and snack… and a sweet treat… and a little bit of my food.

I want her to ask me if we should order some more food, knowing she really shouldn’t.

I want to playfully tease her about how much she ate already and I want it to embarrass her. And I want that embarrassment to fuel her hunger and arousal.

I want her to order more anyway, knowing she’s gonna feel like shit for letting her body get to the point of not even being full after filling her gut with pounds of food.

I want to tell her to order me something too so she won’t feel as bad, knowing I won’t be eating it. Why would I want to ruin my body by eating two meals when she’ll end up eating it anyway?

I want her to go to the bathroom while she waits to admire her new growth and masturbate.

I want to interrupt her right before she’s done so she can get the food. She won’t like the interruption but at least she can stuff her fucking face, so that’ll shut her up.

I want her to look at the massive amount of food in the bags and get horny.

I want her to keep eating even when she’s full. She knows it’s too much but… she’s soaking. And she has me for an audience, so obviously she has to finish.

I want her pussy to pulse every time she chews.

I want her to pull her shirt up, just a little bit. Again, thinking I didn’t notice.

I want her to go back to the bathroom when she’s done and finish off what she started.

—

hhh ive been seeing multiple posts today about like.. hansel and gretel scenarios and it reminds me how much i enjoy magically influenced wg stuff?

like imagine you go walking in the woods one day, either just on a casual walk or to go on a hike or whatever, but as you go along you notice weird things that you’d never noticed before

there’s lots of berry bushes everywhere, and they dont look like anything poisonous that you know of. in fact, they just look like blueberries and raspberries and some blackberries too, so you pick at them as you walk, absentmindedly following the path the bushes make until… it starts to smell like pie?

yup, that’s definitely the smell of baked pastries, and as you follow the bushes and the smell, you soon come across a little cabin situated in a cluster of trees. you vaguely note that you’re pretty far from home, but your curiosity has been piqued, so you slowly approach the door

then, you see the source of the smell: a few pies sit in the window sill, cooling down and letting their smell waft through the woods. part of you thinks “that’s weird, doesn’t this person know it’ll attract wildlife leaving those out like that?” and another part thinks “damn those look really REALLY good”

suddenly, instead of thinking to knock on the door, you get the overwhelming urge to eat some of the pie. and, almost as if it was expecting you, you notice a pie server sitting neatly on the window sill beside the pie tins

a quick glance in the window reveals an empty kitchen, and you pause to listen for footsteps or shuffling and hear nothing. “well, if this person didnt want their pies to be eaten, they shouldn’t have just left them here!” you say to yourself before cutting yourself a slice of what reveals itself to be a mixed berry pie, likely from all the bushes you’d walked past. maybe the homeowner planted the bushes themselves?

any questions promptly leave your mind when you take a bite of the slice, however, being careful not to let any of the sticky juices drip onto your clothes. it tastes absolutely divine, and you moan around your mouthful before promptly stuffing the rest of the slice into your face

without much thinking, you go for another slice, using the pie server like a giant spoon. before you know it, too caught up in the sweet and tart flavors, an entire pie is gone. you note this with a bit of concern and pat at your belly, which… still seems to be hungry for more

so, you dig in to the second pie sitting on the window sill. and even sooner, you’re digging into the third

just as you’re onto the last bite of the last pie, you hear the front door creak open behind you followed by a gasp

when you turn around, pie fillings all over your lips and a little dripping down your chin, the homeowner stands there with a shocked expression on their face

however, before you can even offer up an apology, offer to bake some pies in return to make up for what you’d just done, their shocked expression shifts into something mischievous, but you quickly swallow down your nerves when they say “oh, dont worry about those, i have more in the oven right now! won’t you come in and share them with me? i rarely get visitors!”

as if you have a spell on you (which you likely do), you follow them inside their home, where the smell of baking pastries floods your senses once more. and immediately your stomach is growling and your mouth is watering. you briefly think how weird that is, considering you just ate 3 whole 12 inch pies by yourself and dont seem to be full, but the homeowner leads you to the couch where there’s a platter of cookies and treats already laid out on the coffee table

“please, have some!” they say before sauntering back towards the kitchen. you make yourself busy nibbling on the cookies. well, it starts as nibbling, but they taste just as good as the pies and soon you’re stuffing them in your face like your life depends on it until the platter is empty

it’s then that you finally notice a tightness in your belly. “i definitely overdid it” you think, but when you glance down it’s not the sugar that’s upsetting your stomach, it’s the fact that your pants seem to have shrunk and are constricting your abdomen. well, “your pants shrunk” isn’t exactly as accurate as “you grew”

before you can be concerned about this, though, the smell of pies grows stronger as the homeowner returns with two fresh pies and a clean pie server and a fork. just one fork, you note, but it’s pushed out of your mind when you can finally reach out and cut yourself another slice and quickly eat it

it tastes just as good as the others, if not better, and pretty soon the 2 new pies are gone and all in your belly, and your belly alone

“my, my, aren’t you a hungry one! didn’t get lost in the woods with no food, did you?” they tease and you watch their eyes flick down to your stomach. you glance down as well, and see that the button on your pants has burst and your shirt has ridden up as a paunchy belly pushes out into your lap

for a split second, you’re kind of mortified because that really shouldn’t happen so quickly, but you feel a warmth spreading up in your belly, and when you reach your hand down to grab and rub at the new flesh you let out an involuntary moan

“that’s what i like to hear” the homeowner says before quickly retreating to the kitchen and returning a few moments later with plates and platters of pastries upon pastries. cookies, bread, muffins, cupcakes, pies, cakes, eclairs, and lots of other things that you could never name but look delicious nonetheless

without even thinking you reach forward as if on autopilot, or in a trance, and start grabbing at every treat within your reach and cramming them into your mouth

you can’t stop yourself, and everything tastes so damn good, so why would you want to stop?

plate after plate is wiped clean and promptly replaced by a new one, and you’re too focused on the food to notice your body growing, expanding, fat compounding faster and faster as you stuff sweets and baked goods down your throat

you dont notice when your shirt rides up further and further and tightens around your growing chest. you dont notice when your pants begin to completely give way and start popping at the seams along your thighs. you dont notice your hands getting pudgier every time you bring them up to your mouth to fill it with more sweets. you dont notice when the couch starts to creak below you as your ass and thighs expand. you dont notice how the homeowner is watching you with an intense gaze, eyes raking over your rapidly growing body

when you do notice them staring, you only have one plate of pastries left. their heavy gaze stokes a fire low in your belly. in your massively huge belly

you finally look down at yourself and register what’s happening, all while slowly lifting the last few baked goods to your lips

your stomach stretches out far across your lap, rolling over into a double belly and placing a huge amount of weight on your thighs. you can barely see around your massive gut but can tell that your thighs have also compounded several hundred pounds of fat and are being pushed apart by your belly. your chest hangs heavy and low across your stomach, your shirt in tatters and having fallen on the couch beside you. your fingers look like fat sausages on your pudgy hands, and your arms are thick with new weight. as you bring the last treat up to your lips, you can tell just how fat your face has gotten. double - no, triple chins and chubby cheeks that force your lips into a pout and wobble as you chew your last cookie

you let out a groan and finally rub your distended gut. it makes you feel all hot and flustered, feeling all this new weight on your body. not only is your stomach round and full from all that food, but it’s still soft and squishy to the touch, and wobbles when you shift slightly in your seat. you can barely move, and when you try to sit up further, perhaps even try to stand, you find that it’s next to impossible. your giant, fat ass and gut are completely hindering you from barely shifting in your seat

My partner has gotten so bottom heavy that when she sits on the couch her ass fat spreads her as wide as the couch cushion.

I know i'm mostly to blame. You see, for the past year I've owned her weight. She was chubby in the beginning. She stands 5'4 and weighed 175 lbs. She was able to hide how flabby she was with clothes back then. Now it's impossible to hide. I put 100 lbs on her in a year. Sometime's I can't believe it myself. But then I see her walking naked in the house and the way the fat on her hips shakes up and down and how her belly hang completely hides her pussy. And now she's getting rolls under her boobs. If she walks at a quick pace her fat slaps together, her hang off her thighs, her tits off her rolls.

I guess you could say I've trained her. We've been using the wearable vibrator that I control through an app for the past year. The other day she was wearing it and sitting on the couch in just her panties and a bra. I put a half dozen donuts on the plate next to her and gave her belly and jiggle. I didn't have to say anything else. She knows that once she eats all the donuts I'll activate the vibrator and that she'll earn her reward.

She usually gets pretty vocal during these stuffings. This time after the first donut she said "god I'm such a pig, aren't ya?" and then just stuffed another donut in. After the third donut she said ,"I'm getting so wet," and then after the fourth, "oh my god, I'm gushing."

Her belly hang was completely hiding her lap so I pushed it up to see that her panties were near soaked. "Keep eating," I said. "We are going to get you so fucking fat, baby."

This always gets her. This gentle yet forceful commentary. When she gets to the 5th donut she always knows that she is close to her reward. I think this is when it really kicks in and she realizes a couple things. One, she has no control anymore. She has essentially become Pavlov's pig. The stimulus to earn the reward. And two, that I am not going to go easy on her. I wan't her alarmingly fat.

By the last donut she always asks me how fat she's going to get. I know she doesn't want to hear numbers or anything. I know what she wants to hear. I've said it to her so many times now that she anticipates it. It makes her cum every time.

The dorm room at Riverdale University was a cluttered haven of textbooks, empty energy drink cans, and the low pulse of lo-fi music from a laptop. Late November’s chill lingered outside, but the radiator made the small space stifling. Noah, a lean biology major with dark curls and a tendency to overthink, sprawled on his bed, half-reading notes. Lucas, his blond, broad-shouldered kinesiology-major roommate, lounged across from him, exuding easy confidence. Their friendship, over a year strong, was a rhythm of shared meals, late-night laughs, and pranks. But tonight, fueled by exam stress and a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka Lucas had smuggled in, the air crackled with tension.

“Dude, you ever wonder what it’d be like to just… let loose?” Lucas’s voice cut through the music, low and teasing, blue eyes glinting.

Noah glanced up, brow furrowed. “What?”

Lucas leaned back, hands behind his head, T-shirt riding up to reveal toned abs. “Something wild. No consequences. Just feels good.”

Noah’s cheeks warmed, but he played it cool. “Like stealing the mascot costume again?”

Lucas’s laugh was warm, his gaze intense. “Nah. Something real. Something… raw.”

The vodka loosened their tongues, spiraling the conversation into crushes, fantasies, secrets. The room shrank, the space between them electric. Lucas’s knee brushed Noah’s on the narrow bed, and neither pulled away. Lucas’s hand found Noah’s thigh, igniting a spark that burned away hesitation. Noah’s breath hitched as Lucas leaned in, their lips crashing in a hungry, vodka-fueled kiss.

Clothes hit the floor in a frenzy. Lucas’s hands roamed Noah’s lean frame, rough and sure, guiding him onto the bed. Noah’s heart pounded as Lucas’s cock, hard and thick, pressed against him. Lucas took control, lips trailing down Noah’s neck, hands spreading his thighs. Noah moaned as Lucas’s fingers teased his ass, slick with spit, preparing him. The first thrust was slow, Lucas’s cock filling him, stretching him, the sensation raw and electric. Noah clutched the sheets, body arching, every nerve alive as Lucas moved faster, deeper, their breaths syncing in a primal rhythm. When Lucas came, his cum hot and pulsing inside Noah, it triggered Noah’s release, spilling across his stomach. They collapsed, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, Lucas’s grin lazy and satisfied.

As Noah caught his breath, a strange warmth spread through his core—not just the afterglow, but a deep, visceral pressure in his gut. He brushed it off as nerves or vodka, but something felt different.


The next morning, Noah woke with a throbbing head and shuffled to the bathroom. His reflection stopped him cold: his face was softer, cheeks fuller, jawline blurred. The scale read 175 pounds, up from his usual 160. “What the fuck?” he muttered, trying again. Same number. His jeans dug into his hips, denim snug across his thighs, T-shirt clinging to a soft curve at his stomach. Panic surged. He’d been meticulous—lean proteins, veggies, no binges. Fifteen pounds overnight was impossible.

Lucas was out for his morning run, so Noah headed to class alone, hyper-aware of his heavier steps, thighs brushing together. At the dining hall, his appetite was feral. He piled his tray with pizza, fries, and a milkshake, devouring it all, the gut pressure easing into euphoric fullness. That night, Lucas returned, sweaty and radiant. “You good?” he asked, noticing Noah’s unease.

“I gained weight,” Noah blurted. “Fifteen pounds. Overnight.”

Lucas smirked, skeptical. “You look fine, man. Stress, probably.” But when Lucas’s hand grazed Noah’s arm, that electric heat flared, and Noah’s resolve crumbled. They were kissing before he could think, Lucas tugging off Noah’s too-tight shirt, revealing his softened belly. Noah dropped to his knees, eager, sucking Lucas’s cock with a hunger that surprised them both. Lucas groaned, fingers in Noah’s curls, guiding him until he came, his cum flooding Noah’s mouth, thick and warm. Noah swallowed, the act addictive, the warmth spreading again. They moved to the bed, Lucas fucking him hard, each thrust driving Noah wild, his body craving more even as the gut pressure grew. When it was over, Noah felt heavier, sated but unsettled.

The scale read 190 the next morning.

Over the next week, Noah’s life unraveled. Each encounter with Lucas—frantic, cock-driven nights—left him heavier. By week’s end, he was 220 pounds. His jeans wouldn’t button; sweatpants strained at the seams. His shirts stretched tight across his chest, his once-flat stomach now a soft, jiggly belly. His face was puffy, a double chin forming. Walking to class was exhausting; his thighs chafed, and he was breathless after one flight of stairs. Lecture hall desks pinched his hips, and he caught classmates’ whispers in the dining hall. His biology professor, Dr. Hensley, asked if he was “feeling okay.” Noah mumbled excuses—stress, medication—but he knew the truth: Lucas’s cum was doing this, some impossible, hyper-fattening magic. The thought was absurd, but the evidence was undeniable.

Worse, Noah craved it. The rational part of him screamed to stop, to lose the weight, to figure out why this was happening. He tried cutting calories, hitting the gym, but nothing worked. The weight clung, and the hunger for Lucas grew. Every kiss, every suck, every thrust fed an addiction he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just physical—Lucas’s touch made him feel alive, desired, whole. Each night, Noah would beg for more, Lucas’s cock filling his mouth or ass, the cum triggering that warm, heavy rush that left him both sated and ravenous.


By early December, Noah was 280 pounds. His daily life was unrecognizable. Getting out of bed took effort, his mattress creaking under his bulk. Showering was a chore; the dorm’s narrow stall felt claustrophobic, his belly brushing the walls. He avoided social events, dreading stares, and skipped classes when he could, hiding in the dorm with delivery pizza and Netflix. Lucas, still fit and unaffected, seemed oblivious to the cause but noticed Noah’s changes. “You’re looking… cozy,” he teased one night, poking Noah’s belly playfully. Noah flushed, torn between embarrassment and a thrill at the attention.

Their encounters grew more intense. One night, Lucas pinned Noah to the bed, his hands gripping Noah’s softened hips, cock teasing his ass before thrusting deep. Noah moaned, his belly jiggling with each movement, the sensation heightened by his growing bulk. Lucas’s cum filled him, the warmth spreading faster, more intense, as Noah came hard, his own cock trapped against his heavy stomach. The addiction deepened, Noah begging for Lucas’s cum nightly, swallowing it or taking it inside, each load pushing his weight higher.


Christmas break loomed, and Noah dreaded it. At 300 pounds, he was returning home, where his family would see his transformation. More terrifying was three weeks without Lucas—a dry spell that could break him. The night before he left, they fucked with desperate intensity. Lucas’s cock drove into Noah’s ass, his hands gripping Noah’s thick thighs, cum flooding him as Noah trembled, the warmth overwhelming. The next morning, the scale confirmed 300 pounds. Noah barely recognized himself: his face round, neck swallowed by rolls, belly a massive dome hanging over his waistband, thighs wobbly. Packing was a nightmare; he resorted to oversized hoodies and stretchy joggers from a big-and-tall store.

At home, his family’s shock was palpable. His mom suggested doctors and diets, his dad made awkward jokes about “college weight.” Noah retreated to his bedroom, binging on holiday treats—cookies, pies, lasagna—to dull the gnawing ache for Lucas. The cravings were relentless, food a poor substitute. He texted Lucas constantly, each flirty reply fueling his need. By the end of the break, he’d gained another 30 pounds, hitting 330. His childhood bed groaned, and he avoided family photos, ashamed of how his body spilled over chairs.

The night before returning to Riverdale, Noah lay awake, consumed by thoughts of Lucas’s cock, his cum, the rush. He texted Lucas, fingers trembling: *Miss you. Need you.* Lucas’s reply was instant: *Same, man. Dorm’s too quiet.*

Back at Riverdale, Noah’s cravings exploded. Seeing Lucas, lean and grinning, ignited a feral need. They barely spoke before Noah was on his knees, sucking Lucas’s cock with desperate hunger, swallowing every drop of cum. Lucas fucked him after, Noah’s massive belly pressed against the bed, each thrust sending ripples through his flesh. The scale read 350 pounds the next morning. Noah’s body felt foreign yet thrilling, his addiction stronger than ever.


By February, Noah was 400 pounds. Daily life was a struggle. Walking across campus was a marathon, his breath short, sweat beading. He switched to online classes, unable to fit in lecture hall seats. His dorm bed sagged, and he’d broken a dining hall chair, the humiliation burning. Eating became a ritual—pizzas, burgers, gallons of ice cream—to chase the high Lucas’s cum provided. Their sex was relentless: Lucas’s cock in Noah’s mouth, cum coating his throat, or deep in his ass, each load adding pounds. Noah’s belly grew massive, his thighs thick, his arms heavy with fat.

Lucas remained attentive, his hands lingering on Noah’s softened body, teasing, “You’re all mine.” Noah tried once to stop, skipping a night with Lucas to diet, but the withdrawal—shakes, sweats, a clawing hunger—was unbearable. By midnight, he was begging, tears in his eyes, Lucas’s cock filling him as the warmth returned.

The conflict tore at Noah. He’d stare at old photos, his lean frame a memory, vowing to stop. But the addiction was stronger. Lucas’s cum was his drug, each load a hit that made the weight feel… right. He stopped going to the gym, stopped checking the scale, stopped caring about stares. All that mattered was Lucas’s touch, the cum, the rush.


By April, Noah hit 500 pounds. He was barely mobile, his days spent in the dorm, propped on pillows, surrounded by takeout containers. His belly dominated, a heavy mass spilling across his lap, making tasks like tying shoes impossible. His face was buried in rolls, his chest heavy. Getting up took minutes, each movement laborious. Lucas helped, bringing food, adjusting pillows, his affection unwavering. But Noah saw worry in his eyes, a flicker of guilt they didn’t address.

Their sex adapted to Noah’s size. Lucas would climb over his bulk, cock sliding into Noah’s mouth or ass, the act slower but no less intense. Noah craved every drop, the warmth fueling his surrender. He’d given up fighting, the addiction his world.


By May, Noah was immobile at nearly 600 pounds. The dorm bed was reinforced, paid for by Lucas’s job earnings. Noah’s body was a landscape of rolls, his belly pinning him in place. He relied on Lucas for everything—food, water, hygiene. The addiction had won. Each encounter added pounds, Lucas’s cum a constant craving. Lucas stayed, loyal despite the strain, bringing trays of food, sitting for hours, their connection deeper yet heavier.

Noah’s life shrank to the dorm. He dropped out of in-person classes, grades slipping, friends gone, family calls dodged. But surrender brought peace. He’d fought and lost. This was who he was—immobile, dependent, consumed by want. As Lucas’s hand rested on his massive side, Noah knew he’d never go back.

Check out more stories like this!!

A little disclaimer: This is just a fantasy post made "purely" for entertainment. I do not recommend doing this IRL… or do I? Don't care :D

By "ruined," I mean gaining a ton of weight, losing all your fitness, dropping braincells, and turning your entire life into a nonstop hedonistic binge.

Minimize Movement: Don't move a muscle unless you absolutely have to. Set up your life so you never leave the bed if possible - switch to online classes, work remotely, or better yet, find a feeder to bring you food and handle all the boring adult stuff. Move your bed right next to the door or bathroom to cut down on those pesky steps. Rule of thumb - fewer steps mean more flab. This'll cause you to lose muscle mass and strength super quick, so you'll get exhausted from the tiniest activity and spend even more time lounging around, packing on the pounds like the lazy sow you aspire to be.

Track Your Calories: Count those calories, but make it brain-dead easy - no thinking required. Download an app that lets you just select your food and it counts everything up. Set your goal to double your current weight in three years - the app will tell you exactly how many calories to shove in daily. Bonus if you've got a feeder doing it for you. If you miss your daily quota? No cumming the next day, or double up on the eats. That'll turn you into a calorie-obsessed piglet who lives for that stuffed feeling.

Always Be Snacking: Keep snacks on you at all times - bags of chips, candy, energy drinks, or shakes. The second you're not eating a main meal, start munching. Aim for a perpetually full stomach. Pro tip for the extreme pervs: Hold off eating until afternoon so your body thinks it's starving and hoards more fat. Or gorge late at night when your metabolism is the slowest.

Guzzle Sugary Drinks: Chug high-calorie liquids nonstop - sodas, milkshakes, energy drinks, whatever packs the most empty calories without effort. Keep a stash by your bed and sip constantly - it'll bloat you up, spike your sugar addiction, and make you even lazier since you don't have to chew. Why bother with solid food when you can slurp your way to obesity?

Eat Unhealthily: Yeah, it's cliché, but feedees should live on fast food - burgers, pizza, fries every damn day. It's insanely addictive - once your body craves that greasy hit nightly, the pounds will pile on like nothing. You're not a health nut - you're a junk-food junkie.

Smoke Weed: Light up that green! If smoking's not your vibe, go for a weed pen or edibles. This stuff makes you dumber, hungrier, and hornier - tailor-made for perverted pigs like you. Don't even get me started on building a dependency - it'll have you munching mindlessly while your brain turns to mush.

Ignore Your Health and Body Signals: Tune out any pain, fatigue, or doctor's warnings - those are just your body whining about the fun we're having. Push past fullness, ignore heartburn. Focus on the instant pleasure of indulgence - long-term consequences? Who cares when you're living the hedonistic dream? Keep going until you're a wheezing, waddling mess - adorable!

Link Sex with Eating: Wire your brain to associate sexual pleasure with stuffing your face. Every feedee I know who gets wet/hard just from food, is enormous - why? Eating turns them on, leading to more edging and more eating in a vicious, delicious cycle. Achieve this by edging or pleasuring yourself every time you eat, and never edge without food nearby. It's a total mindfuck, but perfect for turning you into a food-obsessed fuckpig who can't tell the difference between hunger and horniness.

Build a Food Addiction: Link eating to every emotion - not just sex. Bored? Stuff it down with a burger. Sad? Ice cream binge. Happy? Celebrate with cake. Angry? Eat fries to calm down. Make food your go-to for everything, so when life hits hard (like a breakup), your first instinct is to gorge - and get ridiculously aroused in the process.

Watch Tons of Porn: Dive deep into porn, especially feedism stuff on Tumblr, Twitter, DA, or wherever. Consume and interact with the kink constantly to normalize obese bodies in your brain. You want to reach the point where gaining for fetish feels totally normal. Plus, porn's more addictive than heroin - spend your days jerking off instead of exercising or thinking straight. Waste away into a porn-addicted blob.

Only Edge: No full orgasms for lazy pigs who can still get out of bed - you haven't earned it! Seriously though, edging is insanely pleasurable, prolongs the fun, and builds addiction. It also prevents that post-nut clarity where you might regret your life choices. I edge all day and finish late at night - your goal is waking up horny and needing that dopamine hit from touching yourself first thing. Bonus: Gooning - sexualize your own addiction to porn and edging until you're a drooling mess.

Follow Softcore on Your Normie Socials: On your regular social media, start following softcore porn, mukbangs, plus-size models, or ideally plus-size porn stars. It'll trigger more edging while normalizing obesity and gaining. Soon, scrolling Instagram will make you crave calories.

Experiment with Hypnosis or Audio Files: Dive into weight gain hypno audios or files designed for this kink. Listen daily to reprogram your mind into craving expansion, laziness, and submission. It'll amplify the mental conditioning, making you dumber and more obedient to your urges.

Get Dumber: I adore bimboification, but this isn't just my kink - being stupider is great for gainers! Someone who doesn't think, plan, or question gets fattened way past their limits easily. Flunk out of school, forget responsibilities. Focus only on food, weed, porn, sex, or your phone screen. If a thought strays from gaining? Shut it down. Plan nothing but your next meal.

Create Rituals: Build daily habits, like weighing yourself just for the thrill of seeing the numbers climb, or snapping progress pics for the community. Make stuffing sessions sacred events with specific snacks and porn. These rituals reinforce the hedonism, turning gaining into a worshipful routine.

Join the Community: Nothing motivates a gainer like hundereds of anonymous profiles urging you to get fatter. Believe it or not, the internet's full of pervs cheering on your self-destruction - some even pay for it! Start an OnlyFans, Fansly, or whatever, and monetize your body. Ideally, let it replace your job.

Corrupt Others: Spread the kink! Talking to someone unsure about gaining? Tell them how amazing it feels and push them to start. Friend scared of hitting 300 lbs? Shove 'em over the edge. Buddy worried his girlfriend won't gain? Assure him she secretly wants it. The more people you drag into this with you, the better you'll feel - misery loves company.

The playful texts had been sent back and forth. The teasing had escalated into something more. Now, it was becoming awkward to read the texts in public. What if someone saw the flushed cheeks, the shuffling of pants to not show a rising problem and prevent nearby people from assuming there was a deviant in their vicinity.

What if there is a damp spot on the seat when I stand because my baby boy has made me drip with arousal; while I think of feeling his beard on my thighs and his tongue licking away at my center and his tongue sucking on my clit in that wonderful that he does.

All these thoughts had already happened, but now the script had been flipped. The teasing was being done my Mommy has she pulled her baby boy' face deeper into her.

However, it was her tongue that was causing her diapered boy to squirm while he licked, and sucked at her pussy that was soaked with arousal.

"Did you like teasing Mommy baby boy? Did it bring you pleasure to show Mommy pictures of you and your beard telling her that it was clean, soft, and a good place to sit? Because now you're here where you belong, pleasing Mommy with that tongue of yours, giving me pleasure, and all you can do is try desperately to get relief for my prince part, but you can't. Do you know why?"

I lifted my head slightly to answer, but was immediately she pulled my head back to her pussy.

"You know better than to talk with your mouth full, diaper boy. The reason you can't get relief is because Mommy has her prince part tucked away inside a thick, crinkly diaper, and you will not be allowed to have your cummies anywhere besides that thick crinkly diaper."

I felt her arch her hips and press her pussy harder into my mouth. "That’s it baby boy, make Mommy cum in your mouth. All that teasing you did earlier has her so worked up, and I want you to taste me!"

Without stopping, I did as ordered and tasted her arousal and savoring every drop of it.

When she finally relaxed her grip on my head and settled her hips back down on the mattress; she patted the bed beside her, beckoning me to lay next to her. I couldn't help myself as I moved up to lay beside her, my padded prince part against the naked flesh of her thigh.

"Still trying to be a sneaky baby boy, huh my little one?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Ok, then show Mommy how you can be a big boy."

I sat up quickly and moved to undo the tapes on my diaper.

"No, baby boy, Mommy put you in those, so Mommy is the only one who can take you out of it."

I watched in resignation as Mommy reached behind her head; beneath her pillow, and pulled out one of the vibrating wands. It was the purple one that she used to tease her prince part.

"Here you go, baby boy. Lay down beside Mommy and show her how you can be a big boy with your prince part all locked away inside this thick, crinkly plastic prison.

As much as I had hoped to be a big boy inside of Mommy’s pussy the thought of being gifted an orgasm was too much to pass up. I just as quickly laid back down beside Mommy, taking the proffered vibrator and switched it on pressing it hard against the rustling plastic just above my cock.

Mommy rolled over and placed against the smooth surface just over my balls.

"Go on, baby, show Mommy how you make yourself feel good."

I let out a gasp of pleasure as I found just the right spot on my diaper, and I started to grind harder against the wand.

"Shh, baby boy, not so loud. Here I have an idea."

She grabbed my pacifier from the nightstand, and instinctively, I opened my mouth, but before Mommy placed it between my lips, she slid the pacifier down her body and then just inside her sex. I could only watch in rapt fascination as Mommy twirled the pacifier inside her for just a brief moment before pulling it back out and letting me see the clear, silicone nipple that was clearly glistening from being covered in her arousal.

She pressed the pink pacifier against my lips, and I inhaled the wonderful scent of her pussy before opening my mouth to except the silicone nipple into my mouth.

"There we go. Much better, baby boy. Now show Mommy how you are a big boy. I want you to taste me and know that you are mine and I am yours. My pussy juice is all over your face and all over your tongue, I've marked you and now I want you to show me your devotion and cum for me, baby hoy. Cum for me in your diapers."

While I suckled and used the vibrator Mommy had placed her hand back on the smooth surface over my balls, pressing and rubbing the cotton padding against me while she used that teasing tongue and wonderful brain of hers to bring me to the edge of of orgasm . As she told me to cum for her a second time. I did!

My whole body tensed. I think I nearly bit the nipple of the pacifier off, I'm sure, but as my orgasm peaked, I looked over into Mommy’s eyes and saw desire, softness, and all the other wonderful emotions, but most of all I saw love.

When I finally relaxed, Mommy cradled me softly against her naked flesh. The vibrator was turned off and tossed aside. It felt as if the only thing in the room was the two of us.

Imagine being stuck in a cell, with a ginormous feast being placed in front of you every day and only allowed to leave once you can eat it all in one sitting

You wake up, disoriented. you look around, nothing in your dark surroundings but a bed and a table. suddenly, you hear a commotion of people in robes, faces covered, rush to bring something onto the barren table in your cell. They disappear in a flash, all that’s left behind is an absolute banquet. A feast that could overfeed about 30 people at a buffet, piled with junk food. Rich creamy pastas, pizza stacked upon pizza, a plate of burgers piled high enough you wondered how it hadn’t fallen over, and piles upon piles of sugary desserts with the most delicious smells filling the room. You wonder if this was supposed to be your last meal, but your thoughts were cut short, by the greedy rumblings of your belly. You were starving, and decided there was nothing else left to do but dig in.

Almost a year has gone by, but to you it had felt like a lifetime. You would wake, stuff yourself with reckless abandon with no fear of judgement or consequences, and go back to sleep. There was no way to tell how often the meals were being brought to you, in fact the only way to tell that time had passed at all was what it had all been doing to your body. When you had first woken up, you had been reasonably thin, maybe a small potbelly from the occasional lack of willpower from time to time but nothing to worry about. Now however, you had grown immensely. If there had been any chance of holding back in attempt to save your figure it had long since flown out the nonexistent window. Your belly had swelled outward, inflated, and sagged lower, you had noticed any sights of what had been your feet had become less and less frequent. Your legs had become heavy with fat, the fat on your thighs threatening to overlap your knees, and the beginning signs of cankles showing on your calves. Your tits had grown substantially, with rolls forming along the sides making your puffy arms rest a little higher than they had before. However, you had certainly done a number on that buffet, having before only been able to stomach a pizza at most you had started to get creative, wrapping burgers with entire pizzas and shoving them into your rapidly swelling gut with as much force and speed as you could. It was the only pastime you had really, so you made the most of it by constantly testing the bursting point of your greedy gut.

It had been a few years of endless feasting before you had begun to notice your mobility diminishing. You were now able to eat enough to feed a large family before slowing down, but your travel from your bed had begun leaving you winded, and took great deal of effort to take your lumbering waddle over to your meals. Your stomach of course, the culprit. Its rolls had swelled with fat so much it now hung down past your knees, fighting your wobbling thighs for space. your knees and feet had long since been covered by the swell of constant calories you had been shoving in. Your elbows had long since disappeared under the size your upper arms had ballooned to. The next day you had woken up, with the familiar smell of food filling your senses, and attempted to get out of bed. You struggled to gasp for air, trying with feeble attempts to propel yourself with enough momentum to get forward, and more importantly, your meal. Each attempt was rather hindered by amount of gut covering your lap. Suddenly, the masked people reentered into your room, and instead of leaving the food on the table, they pick it up piece by piece and began feeding it to you. One after another they stuffed greasy food straight into your greedy belly. The speed they each filled your mouth was almost too fast to chew, forcing you to swallow bigger bites as quickly as you could. “Please, go a little slower” you tried to call out between bites of food, but only one of them replied, “Too bad, you should have never been as greedy as you were in the first place. Fat fucks like you don’t get a say in this matter.”They continued to stuff your face, and once you had eaten enough to feel sick of your usual feast, you cried for them to stop. They fed you their last handfuls, and quickly as they had came, they left. One lingering long enough to instal what looked like a hose coming out of the ceiling.

The next time you awoke, you expected to to greeted by your usual meal of the table, but you noticed that the table had been removed from your room entirely. The only thing that caught your eye was the hose they had left the day before. Starving, you placed it in your mouth and began to suck out of desperation. You were instant met with what tasted like the blend of greasy food you had been eating for years. you noticed at the corner of your bed they had also left a small device, with words _ out of _ eaten. The lights being too dim to properly read, you cast it out of your brain and begun swallowing. It felt so good, the constant flow of calories filling your overstretched gut. You watch it rise with every gulp you fill it with, greed and lust overpowering you with the desire to fill it as big as possible. There was no way to tell how long you spent swallowing, only the rapid expansion of your body. each time you took a nap you would awake with your belly before you looking visibly larger then it had before.

After a few days you notice yourself getting hungrier between meals. More snacks are graciously given to solve that pesky issue. One night a second dinner is required, you find yourself particularly hungry for seemingly no reason. I tell you it's nothing and you just have a good appetite. I keep you comfy and cozy with your favorite shows, bringing meals to you rather than making you get up for them. I feed you snacks while you play videogames on the TV. Youre barely paying attention to how many you're eating until you finish playing snd notice the pile of wrappers on the table. You say you're really eating a bit much. I tell you you deserve to indulge and relax! It's all a reward for being so sweet and kind and cuddly, im greatful to have a softie like you. Before you can question that last descriptor I'm already feeding you another cookie.

A month goes by. Your clothes aren't fitting quite right. A bit of belly pudge spills over the waistband of your pants. Your shirt rides up a bit when you stretch. You're a bit out of breath when getting out of bed. Before you can even think more on these concerns the smell of pancakes wafts through your nose. You borderline float on it cartoon style to the kitchen where I have a huge breakfast made up for you. You scarf it down with gusto, it's so yummy, and you're somehow starving despite having quite a few servings of ice cream before bed. By the time you're done you feel lethargic. But satisfied. You plop onto the couch and go back to your TV routine. I keep a bowl of snacks in front of you to mindlessly snack on till lunch, then till dinner, then till second dinner, then till dessert. Any time you try to question why you're still hungry, or why I keep giving you snacks, I shush you by putting one in your mouth, or giving you a nice big hug. A sweet thing like you deserves the world~

2 more months in and you have a whole new wardrobe. Your old pants stopped squeezing around your chubby waist or hamhock thighs. Your shirts barely covered your gut. This is becoming a problem, you're getting too fat, too lazy, eating way too much. You come to the kitchen to confront me but are stunned by the enormous breakfast I've prepared for you. You decide to sit and talk while you eat. You till me you need to lose weight, you need to slow down, you've been eating too much. And I, a sweet dainty lover who only wants you to be happy, happily oblige. After a breakfast fit for 3 people you waddle over to the couch and sit. You intend to get up and exercise after an hour...but you fell asleep, into a food coma. When you wake up a few hours later you find yourself starving. You slept through lunch. You DID say you wanted to slow your eating but you NEED something. I happened to be preparing a large dinner, apparently for a few guests coming over. You ask if you can eat some now and of course I let you. You gorge your way through plate after plate of delicious meats and veggies and pastas, until suddenly you look up to find nearly everything gone. I mention you must've been real hungry huh? You blush and try to hide your chubby face, shrinking into your double chin. I coyly ask if you want more. Your brain says no, but your mouth says yes. Before you can even grapple with that I start feeding fork after fork into your face. You tell yourself this needs to stop, it's too much, you should be full. Yet every bite the only thing that goes through your brain is the word more. It's too delicious, you're too hungry. Or...are you hungry? No, you couldn't be...and yet...you eat every last bit. Your distended gut groans and aches, you rub it trying to ease the pain. You overdid it. The Worst part? You remember this isnt even the first time, as your pants button finally gives way and snaps off, letting your blubbery gut spill out into your lap with a jiggle, embarassing you further.

A year in you're waddling over to me, gripping your bloated gut with both hands and shaking it, causing it to jiggle like mad. You blame me for your growth, your plumpness, your girth. I tell you yet again I'll happily cook less for you. You decide to have only a small bit of eggs and toast for breakfast...20 minutes later you're whining in your seat at the table, complaining about how hungry you are. I tell you I'll happily give you however much food you want. You don't want more food. You're already so over fed and overpampered. You want to stop getting fatter...but your body craves more. It's been conditioned by now to crave enough food to feed a family, just for a meal. You want to say no, you want to resist, you don't want to eat like a pig anymore...and yet you need pancakes, French toast, sausage, bacon, cereal, donuts, milkshakes, you need food, and lots of it. You beg me for everything and I happily provide. Until the past bite of donut remains and I ask you one question: Are you a gluttonous pig?

—

hhh ive been seeing multiple posts today about like.. hansel and gretel scenarios and it reminds me how much i enjoy magically influenced wg stuff?

like imagine you go walking in the woods one day, either just on a casual walk or to go on a hike or whatever, but as you go along you notice weird things that you’d never noticed before

there’s lots of berry bushes everywhere, and they dont look like anything poisonous that you know of. in fact, they just look like blueberries and raspberries and some blackberries too, so you pick at them as you walk, absentmindedly following the path the bushes make until… it starts to smell like pie?

yup, that’s definitely the smell of baked pastries, and as you follow the bushes and the smell, you soon come across a little cabin situated in a cluster of trees. you vaguely note that you’re pretty far from home, but your curiosity has been piqued, so you slowly approach the door

then, you see the source of the smell: a few pies sit in the window sill, cooling down and letting their smell waft through the woods. part of you thinks “that’s weird, doesn’t this person know it’ll attract wildlife leaving those out like that?” and another part thinks “damn those look really REALLY good”

suddenly, instead of thinking to knock on the door, you get the overwhelming urge to eat some of the pie. and, almost as if it was expecting you, you notice a pie server sitting neatly on the window sill beside the pie tins

a quick glance in the window reveals an empty kitchen, and you pause to listen for footsteps or shuffling and hear nothing. “well, if this person didnt want their pies to be eaten, they shouldn’t have just left them here!” you say to yourself before cutting yourself a slice of what reveals itself to be a mixed berry pie, likely from all the bushes you’d walked past. maybe the homeowner planted the bushes themselves?

any questions promptly leave your mind when you take a bite of the slice, however, being careful not to let any of the sticky juices drip onto your clothes. it tastes absolutely divine, and you moan around your mouthful before promptly stuffing the rest of the slice into your face

without much thinking, you go for another slice, using the pie server like a giant spoon. before you know it, too caught up in the sweet and tart flavors, an entire pie is gone. you note this with a bit of concern and pat at your belly, which… still seems to be hungry for more

so, you dig in to the second pie sitting on the window sill. and even sooner, you’re digging into the third

just as you’re onto the last bite of the last pie, you hear the front door creak open behind you followed by a gasp

when you turn around, pie fillings all over your lips and a little dripping down your chin, the homeowner stands there with a shocked expression on their face

however, before you can even offer up an apology, offer to bake some pies in return to make up for what you’d just done, their shocked expression shifts into something mischievous, but you quickly swallow down your nerves when they say “oh, dont worry about those, i have more in the oven right now! won’t you come in and share them with me? i rarely get visitors!”

as if you have a spell on you (which you likely do), you follow them inside their home, where the smell of baking pastries floods your senses once more. and immediately your stomach is growling and your mouth is watering. you briefly think how weird that is, considering you just ate 3 whole 12 inch pies by yourself and dont seem to be full, but the homeowner leads you to the couch where there’s a platter of cookies and treats already laid out on the coffee table

“please, have some!” they say before sauntering back towards the kitchen. you make yourself busy nibbling on the cookies. well, it starts as nibbling, but they taste just as good as the pies and soon you’re stuffing them in your face like your life depends on it until the platter is empty

it’s then that you finally notice a tightness in your belly. “i definitely overdid it” you think, but when you glance down it’s not the sugar that’s upsetting your stomach, it’s the fact that your pants seem to have shrunk and are constricting your abdomen. well, “your pants shrunk” isn’t exactly as accurate as “you grew”

before you can be concerned about this, though, the smell of pies grows stronger as the homeowner returns with two fresh pies and a clean pie server and a fork. just one fork, you note, but it’s pushed out of your mind when you can finally reach out and cut yourself another slice and quickly eat it

it tastes just as good as the others, if not better, and pretty soon the 2 new pies are gone and all in your belly, and your belly alone

“my, my, aren’t you a hungry one! didn’t get lost in the woods with no food, did you?” they tease and you watch their eyes flick down to your stomach. you glance down as well, and see that the button on your pants has burst and your shirt has ridden up as a paunchy belly pushes out into your lap

for a split second, you’re kind of mortified because that really shouldn’t happen so quickly, but you feel a warmth spreading up in your belly, and when you reach your hand down to grab and rub at the new flesh you let out an involuntary moan

“that’s what i like to hear” the homeowner says before quickly retreating to the kitchen and returning a few moments later with plates and platters of pastries upon pastries. cookies, bread, muffins, cupcakes, pies, cakes, eclairs, and lots of other things that you could never name but look delicious nonetheless

without even thinking you reach forward as if on autopilot, or in a trance, and start grabbing at every treat within your reach and cramming them into your mouth

you can’t stop yourself, and everything tastes so damn good, so why would you want to stop?

plate after plate is wiped clean and promptly replaced by a new one, and you’re too focused on the food to notice your body growing, expanding, fat compounding faster and faster as you stuff sweets and baked goods down your throat

you dont notice when your shirt rides up further and further and tightens around your growing chest. you dont notice when your pants begin to completely give way and start popping at the seams along your thighs. you dont notice your hands getting pudgier every time you bring them up to your mouth to fill it with more sweets. you dont notice when the couch starts to creak below you as your ass and thighs expand. you dont notice how the homeowner is watching you with an intense gaze, eyes raking over your rapidly growing body

when you do notice them staring, you only have one plate of pastries left. their heavy gaze stokes a fire low in your belly. in your massively huge belly

you finally look down at yourself and register what’s happening, all while slowly lifting the last few baked goods to your lips

your stomach stretches out far across your lap, rolling over into a double belly and placing a huge amount of weight on your thighs. you can barely see around your massive gut but can tell that your thighs have also compounded several hundred pounds of fat and are being pushed apart by your belly. your chest hangs heavy and low across your stomach, your shirt in tatters and having fallen on the couch beside you. your fingers look like fat sausages on your pudgy hands, and your arms are thick with new weight. as you bring the last treat up to your lips, you can tell just how fat your face has gotten. double - no, triple chins and chubby cheeks that force your lips into a pout and wobble as you chew your last cookie

you let out a groan and finally rub your distended gut. it makes you feel all hot and flustered, feeling all this new weight on your body. not only is your stomach round and full from all that food, but it’s still soft and squishy to the touch, and wobbles when you shift slightly in your seat. you can barely move, and when you try to sit up further, perhaps even try to stand, you find that it’s next to impossible. your giant, fat ass and gut are completely hindering you from barely shifting in your seat

In this community, there is a reductive spectrum that mostly all feedees fall somewhere upon. Pigs and Cows. Some feedees are pigs. Some are cows. Most have a little bit of both.

Cows slowly graze, often mindlessly. These types of feedees willingly let their minds dim as they shut their thoughts off, chewing what's brought in front of them. Cows love having their tits played with and squeezed as they grow, having intrusive thoughts about their boobs being udders. They love having their heads rubbed and being rewarded/praised for how much they're eating. A cow may enjoy being hand-fed by a feeder while having their body rubbed and adored. They love praise and guidance, mentally surrendering by letting someone else do their thinking for them. Cows are more apt to have a breeding or lactation fixation. A cow naturally loves giving oral. Cows are extraordinarily submissive and willing to let the feeder grow them to the size the feeder wants, yet they will more commonly have weight limits. They'd gladly let you put a collar around their neck because they want to let the world know they belong to you. Cows love having a feeder and, more often than not, require having a feeder in their life to help them grow. They are very motivated to please someone else in the pursuit to fatten up.

Pigs get off to gaining weight, often enjoying rapid weight gain. They are more apt to stuff, loving the results that overconsuming can bring to their bodies. Pigs love being teased and humiliated about their weight and love having their growth pointed out. They love being spanked and degraded, called names, and stuffing themselves into outgrown clothes while seeking public humiliation. Pigs are more apt to enjoy eating on all fours, using their hands, or just going face first. They enjoy being funnel-fed by feeders or force-feedings. A pig may not enjoy giving oral, but like all of their fat counterparts, they're good at it. Pigs are a little more rebellious but can become submissive through the right food-related or sex-related incentive. The pigs may not have a weight limit but often have weight goals. Unlike cows, when pigs reach their goal weight, they move the needle to the next goal weight, unable to help themselves from chasing the thrill of gaining. More often than not, pigs get off to seeing the number of the scale going up. A pig doesn't necessarily need a feeder, given they are naturally able and motivated to grow. They are very motivated to please themselves in their pursuit to fatten up.

Feedees, are you a pig or a cow, or something in the middle? Not sure? I'll tell you what you are.

Poor gluttonous mortals lead into restaurants and diners and bakeries secretly manned by Hell's finest and filled to the brim with so much dangerously delicious food... seemingly an endless supply

You may notice when you enter just how plump and comfortable everyone looks sat in their booths, how the staff smile so warmly at you and always seem to be topping up whatever's in front of their customers, but any concern fades away when the overwhelming smell of mouth-watering food hits you, so you mindlessly float towards the nearest seat a waiter is so kindly pointing out

You look over the menu, but it's hardly needed... before you can think too much, someone is already setting down a stacked plate of your favorite food with a huge drink on your table, encouraging you to dig in and to let them know if you need anything

So you eat. And eat. And grow.

Fat cells instantly begin to multiply within your body with each and every bite. Your shirt starts to ride up as your belly builds up and out, your ass widens beneath you, all of you is getting so plump. As you finish your plate, it sits heavy in your belly... but somehow you still want more. You look around at the other patrons and see how they've all gotten noticeably fatter since you got here, but before that thought can really sink in enough for you to take a look at yourself, the waiter is already putting down a fresh plate in front of you with a wry smile. They reach down and unbutton your pants letting your now fat belly plop out into your lap atop your thickening thighs, giving your belly a quick pat and telling you how good you're looking, but you hardly notice. You just focus in on the food in front of you

So you eat.

And eat.

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?

one version has natural diuretics and laxatives. you don't notice it at first but the time between releases gets shorter and shorter, until you're suddenly wetting and messing without even noticing, all within a matter of a few days...or maybe even hours...

another version has a mix of estrogen and hormone compounds. you notice that your breasts become tender, hips widening, weight gains in targeted areas, hypersensitivity in your 'baby bits'. its not long before your tits are leaking milk and you're begging your caregiver to breed you senselessly.

the next variation has a mix of aphrodisiacs. within minutes those baby bits are buzzing, throbbing at even the slightest sensations. maybe your caregiver is extra mean, locking you tightly into your crib so you cant get relief no matter how hard you wiggle or buck. or maybe they're mean in a different way, locking the biggest dildo they own in your piddle pants before forcing you into a baby bouncer with a vibrator pressed against those sensitive parts, by the time they're done with you you'll never want to cum again.

maybe there's one with a heavy duty kevlar material and perma-lock tapes, mixed with a careful combination of muscle relaxers, anti rash protection, and waste disposing nanites. not only will it loosen up those cute tight sphincters till you're piddling your pants all the time, it'll turn all those big muscles into wimpy noodles. you'll be so cute waddling and tripping over those feet like a toddler, and even cuter when you've finally atrophied to the point of needing to crawl everywhere. not to mention that silly little diaper is permanent now, no more touching tapes, playing with big kid parts, or using porcelain thrones for you ever again. all with the added bonus of waste disposal, so you never have to worry about sitting in those messes too long and getting ouchies.

I’d love to be constantly messy and funnelling creams and butters and let him shove whatever he wants down my throat whilst he grabs my chins and lathers me in whatever I’m stuffing my face with. I want him to heave me over just to burp me and it would definitely be too hard to wash all my fat properly :3 so maybe I’d just be his gross fat stinky piggy…

I’d love to be so fat I can move , say no and let him do whatever he wants to his big slobby pig wife , not that I ever would but I think being too obese to go anywhere is so romantic and hot , my baby can go out knowing his big bed bound slob is waiting for him 😌 and always will be.

I’m already super needy and dependent on my baby but I’d love to be too fat to do anything for myself and just be a stuffed drunk blob <3 ultimate dream!

**This clip is not mine, as seen by the original tag!**

Sometimes you have to scour the internet to find old content that existed before the great tumblr purge. I’ve had so many people reply/message me about the gifs I made from this that I can’t help but post the full video

A little disclaimer: This is just a fantasy post made "purely" for entertainment. I do not recommend doing this IRL… or do I? Don't care :D

By "ruined," I mean gaining a ton of weight, losing all your fitness, dropping braincells, and turning your entire life into a nonstop hedonistic binge.

Minimize Movement: Don't move a muscle unless you absolutely have to. Set up your life so you never leave the bed if possible - switch to online classes, work remotely, or better yet, find a feeder to bring you food and handle all the boring adult stuff. Move your bed right next to the door or bathroom to cut down on those pesky steps. Rule of thumb - fewer steps mean more flab. This'll cause you to lose muscle mass and strength super quick, so you'll get exhausted from the tiniest activity and spend even more time lounging around, packing on the pounds like the lazy sow you aspire to be.

Track Your Calories: Count those calories, but make it brain-dead easy - no thinking required. Download an app that lets you just select your food and it counts everything up. Set your goal to double your current weight in three years - the app will tell you exactly how many calories to shove in daily. Bonus if you've got a feeder doing it for you. If you miss your daily quota? No cumming the next day, or double up on the eats. That'll turn you into a calorie-obsessed piglet who lives for that stuffed feeling.

Always Be Snacking: Keep snacks on you at all times - bags of chips, candy, energy drinks, or shakes. The second you're not eating a main meal, start munching. Aim for a perpetually full stomach. Pro tip for the extreme pervs: Hold off eating until afternoon so your body thinks it's starving and hoards more fat. Or gorge late at night when your metabolism is the slowest.

Guzzle Sugary Drinks: Chug high-calorie liquids nonstop - sodas, milkshakes, energy drinks, whatever packs the most empty calories without effort. Keep a stash by your bed and sip constantly - it'll bloat you up, spike your sugar addiction, and make you even lazier since you don't have to chew. Why bother with solid food when you can slurp your way to obesity?

Eat Unhealthily: Yeah, it's cliché, but feedees should live on fast food - burgers, pizza, fries every damn day. It's insanely addictive - once your body craves that greasy hit nightly, the pounds will pile on like nothing. You're not a health nut - you're a junk-food junkie.

Smoke Weed: Light up that green! If smoking's not your vibe, go for a weed pen or edibles. This stuff makes you dumber, hungrier, and hornier - tailor-made for perverted pigs like you. Don't even get me started on building a dependency - it'll have you munching mindlessly while your brain turns to mush.

Ignore Your Health and Body Signals: Tune out any pain, fatigue, or doctor's warnings - those are just your body whining about the fun we're having. Push past fullness, ignore heartburn. Focus on the instant pleasure of indulgence - long-term consequences? Who cares when you're living the hedonistic dream? Keep going until you're a wheezing, waddling mess - adorable!

Link Sex with Eating: Wire your brain to associate sexual pleasure with stuffing your face. Every feedee I know who gets wet/hard just from food, is enormous - why? Eating turns them on, leading to more edging and more eating in a vicious, delicious cycle. Achieve this by edging or pleasuring yourself every time you eat, and never edge without food nearby. It's a total mindfuck, but perfect for turning you into a food-obsessed fuckpig who can't tell the difference between hunger and horniness.

Build a Food Addiction: Link eating to every emotion - not just sex. Bored? Stuff it down with a burger. Sad? Ice cream binge. Happy? Celebrate with cake. Angry? Eat fries to calm down. Make food your go-to for everything, so when life hits hard (like a breakup), your first instinct is to gorge - and get ridiculously aroused in the process.

Watch Tons of Porn: Dive deep into porn, especially feedism stuff on Tumblr, Twitter, DA, or wherever. Consume and interact with the kink constantly to normalize obese bodies in your brain. You want to reach the point where gaining for fetish feels totally normal. Plus, porn's more addictive than heroin - spend your days jerking off instead of exercising or thinking straight. Waste away into a porn-addicted blob.

Only Edge: No full orgasms for lazy pigs who can still get out of bed - you haven't earned it! Seriously though, edging is insanely pleasurable, prolongs the fun, and builds addiction. It also prevents that post-nut clarity where you might regret your life choices. I edge all day and finish late at night - your goal is waking up horny and needing that dopamine hit from touching yourself first thing. Bonus: Gooning - sexualize your own addiction to porn and edging until you're a drooling mess.

Follow Softcore on Your Normie Socials: On your regular social media, start following softcore porn, mukbangs, plus-size models, or ideally plus-size porn stars. It'll trigger more edging while normalizing obesity and gaining. Soon, scrolling Instagram will make you crave calories.

Experiment with Hypnosis or Audio Files: Dive into weight gain hypno audios or files designed for this kink. Listen daily to reprogram your mind into craving expansion, laziness, and submission. It'll amplify the mental conditioning, making you dumber and more obedient to your urges.

Get Dumber: I adore bimboification, but this isn't just my kink - being stupider is great for gainers! Someone who doesn't think, plan, or question gets fattened way past their limits easily. Flunk out of school, forget responsibilities. Focus only on food, weed, porn, sex, or your phone screen. If a thought strays from gaining? Shut it down. Plan nothing but your next meal.

Create Rituals: Build daily habits, like weighing yourself just for the thrill of seeing the numbers climb, or snapping progress pics for the community. Make stuffing sessions sacred events with specific snacks and porn. These rituals reinforce the hedonism, turning gaining into a worshipful routine.

Join the Community: Nothing motivates a gainer like hundereds of anonymous profiles urging you to get fatter. Believe it or not, the internet's full of pervs cheering on your self-destruction - some even pay for it! Start an OnlyFans, Fansly, or whatever, and monetize your body. Ideally, let it replace your job.

Corrupt Others: Spread the kink! Talking to someone unsure about gaining? Tell them how amazing it feels and push them to start. Friend scared of hitting 300 lbs? Shove 'em over the edge. Buddy worried his girlfriend won't gain? Assure him she secretly wants it. The more people you drag into this with you, the better you'll feel - misery loves company.