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New Patreon Video: Perfect weather for a big guy to get some fresh air, not to hot not to cold. But others might wear a jacket :P. Whats better then eating a snack in the woods? Full 8min Video is aviable on patreon patreon.com/preed
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Just some solo feeders doing their job.
After a while a feeder needs some help keeping his man satisfied, even from homunculi.
Feeding is a community effort to satiate a giant's hunger from both man and eldritch abomination alike.
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Dominate
Levi loved sex. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it and he didn’t really care that the people sharing the corridor of his dorm all prudishly looked down on the fact that he had so many guys staying over. He was eighteen, handsome, and in college for the first time. There were sexy guys all over the place. Of course he was going to indulge himself!
But whilst he could shrug off most of the disapproval, the thing that did annoy him was the fact that the guy living right opposite him was pretty much exactly the same. Julian seemed to bring a different girl back almost every time he went for a night out; sometimes more than one. However, no one seemed to mind about that. The girls all loved him for his toned body and good looks; whilst the guys admired Julian for his confidence with the ladies and generally fun personality. Julian seemed to get on better with people in a way that Levi didn’t. Maybe that was why they accepted his promiscuous lifestyle more than they did Levi’s. Was that where he was going wrong?
Two months into college, Levi decided to forgo a night hunting for his next conquest and graciously accepted an invite from the people in his corridor to meet up for a social evening in the shared kitchen. He knew it would be lame, so it didn’t come as too much of a surprise when he was trying to stifle a yawn after only twenty minutes. Still, he plastered a smile on his face and made the small talk that was expected of him. Eleven o’clock came and people started to drift away to bed. Within another hour, everyone had gone, leaving only Levi and Julian left behind. The pair looked at each other, seeming to think exactly the same thing.
Keep reading
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The pleasure of eating and enjoying life to the plumpest.
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The Internal Feeder of an Emotional Eater
Sometimes you eat to fill that empty place inside you. No, not your stomach, I mean that place in the back of your mind where all the scary thoughts live. Don't worry we aren't going to look at those things. We are going to talk about how we fill that space, or at least mask that place. You know that moment after a big meal where you pat your belly, let out a belch, undo your pants and think, that really hit the spot? Those dark thoughts don't find you there do they? Of course not because you are so happy and that spot is filled! Yay! See I knew you could overcome that anxiety with a good meal!
Ok so what if I told you you could feel that way more often? I know usually that feeling comes back again an hour after you eat. Sometimes less than an hour. That sucks.
Sometimes there is a nagging voice in your mind that says, "you are wasting your life, what are you doing? Get up you fat lazy sack." Ok well fret not my friend, that voice just is hitting the dinner bell like a gong! Now you are hungry. You want to fill it. So eat. Eat until the voice is barely a whisper.
Better? I thought so.
Ready for the fun stuff? I heard you had some exciting news, want to celbrate over some drinks? Icecream? Maybe a pizza party. Ok ok I know, I know normally it is like bad day let's get fast food on the way home because cooking is just too much. Today was so bad let's just slip on some sweatpants when we get home pop on the TV and eat a bucket of icecream. But not today! No today something truely awesome happened so let's celebrate! Pull out all the stops! Fancy dinner, drinks, and dessert, because you deserve it!
Someone is a little grumpy today. Have you eaten? Maybe your blood sugar is low, because you seem irritable. You ate a little bit ago? Yeah well maybe you should eat something else because you are hangry.
What are you still doing up it is so late? Maybe a little midnight snack will put you in a food coma. You always get the best sleep with a full belly.
You see what I did there? You are standing in the kitchen in front of the fridge for the 10th time today and you have no clue why. You had breakfast, and lunch is in an hour, but you somehow every single thought or emotion you have leads you back here. Wonder how that happened... oh well grab another snack and lets try to get something besides eating done today.
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So You’ve Decided to Become a Gainer
So you’ve decided to become a gainer.
This is you now. A 170 pound 20 year old man. Lean. Fit. Curious. And boy are you hungry.
It starts by obsessing over other men’s weight. You notice every change in men’s bodies. Your father has put on a beer gut. Your college classmates start wearing sweatpants all the time. Their lovehandles pop out in shirts. The skin around their flat stomachs becomes soft and plump. No change in weight is too small or subtle. You notice it. And you want it.
You research it. Google “how to get fat on purpose.” “Best ways to gain weight.” “Highest calorie foods.” “Men who gain weight.” “How to gain weight fast”.
Get erect. All this excites you. And you know you need it. One day, the decision is made. You will get fat on purpose. You will force your body to get as big and plump and bloated and chubby and saggy and puffy and fat as you want. It will never be enough but at least it will be something. That day, you overeat intentionally. An extra burger from McDonalds. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s. A six pack of beer. You are stuffed and satisfied and horny. You jerk off that night feeling your bloated gut. You love the sensation. You must do this again and again and again.
The first 10 pounds comes easy. You barely need to try. A little here, a little there, eat like a man. Finish an entire large pizza to yourself. Ice cream after. And beer. Your pants get snug. You fill out a little bit. No one notices. But you noticed. And now you realize how much more you’ll need to feel anything. This is not enough.
190 pounds.
No longer thin, but not noticeably fat. Just a little soft. Some call you beefy. You’ve been exploring more ways to gain. Drink a gallon of whole milk a day. You can barely move after. You push your gut out as far as it will go. The pressure is incredible. The liquid sloshes in your belly. Hard to go to the gym this way, so may as well stay home and snack. 34in jeans fit better now. You’re liking the bloat. Decide to keep it bloated every day. If you can eat until you’re stuffed bloated every day, surely you will gain weight fast. And you do.
200 pounds.
These first thirty pounds have happened so easily. Too easily? You don’t feel like it’s any different. But it is. You are softer all over. You hate cardio and never jog anymore. Large shirts hug your budding belly. People can see your deepening belly button through your shirt. You always clean your plate, out of habit now. People offer you food, knowing you’ll never say no. You are a big guy now. He’s a beefcake. “hey big guy.” The other guys call you “thicc” and “meaty.” But you want more than that. And you will get it.
215.
Eggnog chugs. Boost chugs. 12 packs of beer. Mass Gainer. Heavy Cream. Jars of peanut butter. Extra olive oil. You need MORE and you want it now. The next 15 pounds come fast. No amount is too much for you. You film all this now. You want a record of your progress. You pat your chubby ball gut in satisfaction. You find fat in places you didn’t realize got fat. That area around your cock is puffy and soft. The side of what once was your muscular pec is now dimpled and flabby. Your inner thighs. Your back. Softer.
230.
Your gains are obvious. It’s been 60 lbs and two years. But college does that to people. Your parents realize your party lifestyle has impacted your diet. You’re not a high school jock anymore, but hey, why not enjoy college? You’ve graduated and you want help to keep growing. Meet up with a feeder. He’s older than you. Potbellied. Clearly he’s put on weight himself. He opens the door in his underwear. You are shy. But your gut poking through your large tee and your lovehandles spilling over your jeans are all he needs to see to know you’ve been doing plenty of damage to yourself without his help. He intends to fucking destroy you. And he will.
This is when it gets intense. He makes you open the fridge where a gallon tub of ice cream has been melting into a vat of chocolatey goo. You will drink it all and he will make you do it sitting in front of the mirror naked.You gets you high on marijuana and poppers. You step on the scale and realize in erotic satisfaction that you have put on 4 pounds instantly.
Your gut has never been more full. You are more erect than you have ever been. You have never felt SO GOOD.
He has you now. Addicted. Welcome to gaining, pig.
250.
There’s no going back now. Your gut is distended and chubby and bloated all the time. And you are PROUD of it. Bright red stretchmarks have erupted across your round, soft, stomach and lovehandles. They remind you of your progress and you love them. You want more. You look like a fat guy now. Your face is puffy and round. You never go to the gym anymore. You can’t hide your weight gain in the baggiest of clothes. A double chin has formed so you grow a scraggly beard to cover it. Clothes do not fit you the same. You look… disheveled. And you do not care. All you CARE about is getting MORE.
You are becoming a proper hog.Your feeder has done some serious damage and you love it. You obey him. You trust him. He wants you fatter, and you oblige. Each session is intense and he’s pushing your limits. The challenge is so erotic, you don’t even realize the changes that are occurring. You just know you want more. You are his slob now. A greedy, hungry, gainer. You are transforming. But it is still not enough. You cannot stop now.
270.
You have gained 100 pounds. Or have you? You still look so skinny in the mirror. You’re pudgy, MAYBE. Definitely not fat. There are way more guys that are fatter than you, and they aren’t even trying. You must gain more. Your family is concerned. 100 pounds in five years is a lot. “You should get back in the gym.” “Lay off the beer.” “Too many sweets and fast food.”
This only motivates you more. You’ll show them just how big you can get. Next time they see you, they will be horrified; you will make sure of that.
Your feeder is proud of his pig, and you need him more than ever. He pushes you to gorge unrelentlessly. New creative ways to pump you full of calories. Your skin is always tight. Every time you feed, you think, “I’ve never been this full.” Yet you crave more. Your cock throbs as you play with your soft underbelly. It sags now over your waistband, no matter what kind of pants you wear. Your ass cheeks are soft and dimpled. Your lovehandles are embarrassingly wide. People look at you funny. When you eat in public, people are grossed out.
300.
You run into an old college classmate who has himself gained weight. He barely recognizes you with the double chin and the beard and the waddle. You converse. He says “I guess we all put on a little weight after college” as he pats your soft, flabby belly just above your navel. This excites you. But you play it off. “Yeah work keeps me busy. No time to exercise and I just love trying new restaurants.”
The truth is, you don’t care what food tastes like. You will chug anything, stuff anything into your fat face that your feeder tells you to. You are his now. He is the only person you are attractive to now. Too fat for normal men. You are now an acquired taste. Only chubby chasers and encourages want your sweaty, waddling, bloated, curvy body.
330.
You are in denial. "It’s not that much, I think I want another 50 pounds.“
The statement is laughable on its face. You are a blubbery mess of a man. This is what addiction does to you. You can’t even realize that 160 pounds of pure lard packed onto your once-thin frame is a lot. Nothing fits you anymore. You are always out of breath. People you used to know do not recognize you. You’ve given up all your hobbies except the only one that matters: Gaining.
Gaining is the only thing you want. The only thing you think about. The only thing that gets your cock hard. And you must have more.
350.
You film yourself naked eating a pie on all fours. Sniff poppers. Then slam back two pints of melted ice cream. The flavor doesn’t matter. It drips out the side of your mouth and over your fat tits. Your nipples are swollen and sensitive. You love having your tits played with. Oink Oink. You reach under your heavy soft overhang and pull it up. Jiggle it for your camera. Burp. Slap your gut.
You masturbate to these videos you film of yourself. You are shocked when you look back at your video at 250 and think “WOW I was so thin back then.” Reality is, 250 was NOT thin. But your perception of what is fat, what is thin, is so distorted by your fetish that it’s completely disconnected from reality.
400.
Your feeder laughs and pats your gut as the scale reads 400 for the first time.
You are fatter now than he has ever been.
“How do you feel, pig?” he says, grinning, and with his cock leaking precum in his underwear.
“I feel… small. Like I need another 50 pounds,” you respond as you rub the soft hanging part of your belly. “And I’m still hungry.”
He loves hearing that. He sits you down in front of the mirror and watches as you drink a Boost VHC. 500 calories a piece.
Drink another.
And another.
And another.
2000 calories.
“Feel better pig?“
“yes sir.” you respond.
As you look in the mirror, you let out a satisfying burp and jiggle your heft. Everything wobbles on you now. What you see back doesn’t shock you, but it should.
You think: What have I become? What have I done to myself? Why do I still feel so small?
Then you reach around your massive gut and feel your cock. It’s buried in fatpad now. And erect. Leaking precum. Your feeder gets on his knees and puts his lips on your cock. and starts slowly sucking off his greedy boy pig. This is your life now. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. And you still want more.
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