Chapter 1

I never considered myself a gainer. I never thought I’d be that growing blimp of a human being. Call it fear or willpower or social pressure; whatever it was, it was simply too strong to overcome. This is the true story of how that will was broken and the moment I realised how much trouble I was in; powerless to prevent myself from growing out of control.

—

Up until recently I was what you’d call a fair-weather gainer. A larger guy, hovering around 220lbs; I enjoyed the fantasy of being fed and grown and turned into a blimp for another man’s pleasure; but I’d never made it a life-long ambition.

I liked my body and would regularly post photos of it on gainer forums. Using my already-plump bearish frame to lure attractive encouragers from to my apartment. These encounters was just for sex, occasionally with a little stuffing or bloating. I’d play out my fantasies for the thrill of an orgasm before returning to my regular life, regular diet, regular gym schedule that meant I could just-about maintain my current size.

Don’t get me wrong; the idea of becoming an immobile blob brought me to the edge of orgasmic bliss like nothing else— and there was once a time that I considered it. If I met the right encourager, I would tell myself, maybe he could convince me to get fat.

In the hundreds of encounters I’d had over the years, only occasionally would I have an encounter with a man that I knew could make me enormous. They would speak about it endlessly, a frenzied look in their eyes as their hands roamed my frame: It would scare me off. I’d have my fun and block them. After a long time searching, I realised there was simply no encourager out there that could overcome my willpower, or fear of gaining. Destroying my life, simply because it made my dick hard was not a worthwhile trade.

Then I met Daniel and his friend Jonah.

It started as innocently as any sexual encounter, but on a non-gainer app of all places. Daniel; was 24 and significantly my junior. With bright bottle-red hair and a slender frame, he was the epitome of a twink who was; he told me, exclusively interested in fatter older men. He lived in student accommodation just across the road from me, he was very well-endowed and surprisingly sexually aggressive.

He was far too young to be considered a serious contender for a relationship, but old enough for a quick hookup when I needed some release one Monday morning after my flatmate had left for work.

“Can my friend come?” Daniel messaged me.
I hesitated. Two young guys who were unusually interested in me, a fatter older bear. Was I about to get robbed? I pondered until my dick decided for me.
“Sure.” I replied, “But we’ll have to be quick, I’ve got to work” I explained. It was a Monday morning after all.
I gave them my details and quickly buzzed them into my building before hiding a few of my more expensive and easily liftable items.

His friend, I would soon discover, was Jonah; an equally young, well-built beauty with beefy muscled body and thick curly brown hair. Daniel had messaged me ahead of time to explain that Jonah was shy and probably wouldn’t get naked but wanted to come anyway. Who was I to deny him? Jonah was the quieter of the two, which made them an unusual double-act to Daniels chatty vivacity.

What I would quickly learn is that Jonah was no less sexually aggressive than his counterpart. In lieu of his shyness and quiet demeanour, he had been blessed with soft plump lips and an unrelenting oral fixation that had given him God-like skills with his tongue.

Ahh. That thirty-seconds of awkwardness when a stranger enters your apartment purely for sex is only more awkward when there are two of them. I offer them drinks but they’re both keen to get started. I suggest a little foreplay and Daniel volunteers himself. We stand at the foot of my bed as our lips make contact and my hands trace up and down his frame. I quickly I feel his oversized sex organ engorging down the length of his grey sweatpants.

“You have entirely too much cock for one small person” I utter, fifty percent-joking and one-hundred percent surprised. This skinny boy with flame-red hair; half my size and half my age me is quickly sprouting a cock two or three times longer than my own and I feel ever-so-slightly emasculated in a way that lights a spark inside me as our lips mash and his tongue slips into my mouth.

I spare a thought for Jonah, who’s sitting on my bed. I want to try and include him, but not long after Daniel and I are dancing our tongues across each other do I feel Jonah undo my zip and the button at the waist or my trousers before dropping them to my feet as he wraps his lips around my cock and — reader, believe me when I say I can only describe the sensation as — begins to suck the life force out of me.

My eyes role back in my skull a little and my head drifts back in ecstasy as Daniel ’s tongue starts rolling down my neck and he slips a hand up my jumper and begins to squeeze; my love handles, my belly, my tits. His hands roam all over and in hindsight it felt as though I was being measured up.

“You’re hot!” He exclaims and I can only moan in response.

Despite the age gap that would define me as the Daddy, the two younger men were quick to exert their control over my pleasure, dragging me down onto my bed and removing the rest of my clothes. Working in unison as they brought me to a mind-shattering orgasm.

I wouldn’t consider myself sex starved but that first encounter, more than any other, consumed my brain for a week, it was all I could think about. Like a first shot of heroin; I was hooked and I knew had to have more.

Our second encounter set the tone for our meets moving forward.

It was Friday that same week when they messaged me again and I jumped at the chance for more sex. I’d just finished work. My flatmate had left to spend the weekend with his girlfriend, and was planning a relaxed evening with a couple of beers and some TV.

They arrived and exactly as before Jonah showed no interest in removing his clothes. I tried hard to make Daniel the focus of my attention; to return the favour from Monday’s visit but I was quickly overpowered again and found myself on my back being brought to an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Have you eaten?” I asked as we lazed around in my bed after. “There’s no need for you to rush off, we could order in, stick on a movie” I suggested. I was desperate to show some gratitude for their service, and they were young and students, and could do with proper food, I thought. They were happy to accept.

We ordered two extra large pizzas and sundries and I cracked open a beer. Jonah and Daniel don’t drink but asked if they could roll a joint instead — I don’t usually smoke because it makes me lazy, but we all sat back and got high together. I could tell Daniel and Jonah knew each other well, they spoke with one voice, finishing each others sentences and would act in unison, as they passed weed and papers and rolled joints together. This well choreographed ballet was extended to me with the fetching of pizza when it arrived and the refilling of my beer with such frequency that the evening descended into a blur.

Numb from the weed and encouraged by the munchies, I casually grazed on the first XL pizza by myself, vaguely aware that Jonah grabbed a slice himself. As large as I am, 24 inches of bread topped with fatty meat and cheese is my limit. With one pizza demolished and too many beers now foaming inside me, my gut stood proudly swollen and I reclined, nicely faded to enjoy whatever movie we were watching while Jonah’s fingers traced circles on my lower belly, grazing the waistband of my underwear and across my fat pad before hopping to my inner thigh.

My cock slowly sprang back to life. Daniel leans over me and kisses me.
He brings the last of a joint to my lips with one hand while he rubs my swollen belly with the other.

“Having a good time?” He asks.
“This is just what I needed” I reply, although if it came out as more of a slurring garble, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Another slice of pizza is calling me and Daniel makes sure I don’t have to lift a finger as Jonah slides long the sofa and settles between my thighs, tugging down my underwear. Daniel joins him, his tongue lapping at my balls as an hour passes in a blur; one wave of pleasure after another until it overwhelms the effects of the weed and beer and I find myself flush and cumming once again.

I doze momentarily and when I come around the boys have left and I drag myself to a sitting position, my head pounding and my throat parched. A quick tidy up as I dispose of two empty pizza boxes and ponder if the boys had taken the rest with them. It slowly dawns on me that I had been too caught up in the whirlwind of sex and pleasure wrought upon me by those two young men to remember, but I had eaten the second pizza myself as Daniel brought slice after slice and rested it on my belly.

For three months, this became our Friday night ritual; then Friday and Saturday nights. I was so bloated and hungover that I spent most of my weekends in bed, I would step on the scale every couple of weeks to see the numbers slowly climbing, not that I needed to. I could feel the change. My chins, fuller and thicker with fat would press around my neck. My gut was heavier and squishier, and my tits wider. I could feel myself getting more breathless. The paltry 220lbs I was hovering around when I first met them and had climbed steadily up to 250lbs.

More than anything I was shocked at how easy a pattern this had become. I always thought I would need to consciously decide to gain weight like this but this seemed to all happen by mistake. We never even mentioned gaining weight or feeding. The weekend would come around and so would the boys. They brought me weed, they brought me pleasure, they brought me sex and it was all just too good to refuse.

Until my trousers that had once been too big on me began digging into my sides leaving angry red welts. Suddenly my shirts couldn’t contain my tits and were straining at the buttons. I could no longer pull my jumps down far enough to cover my belly and love handles.

I started to panic, I was entering gainer territory and I knew where this might lead and I cancelled my Friday night visit with the boys.
I’d have to make a change, but the change was made for me.

My flatmate announced he would be moving in with his girlfriend. It was no surprise; having spent every weekend with her for a year and half and most nights of the week. Finding a new flatmate was harder than I thought. After years of living with a straight man, I wanted someone gay so we’d have something in common, maybe someone I could become friends with but it was a challenge to find. The ones I did like told me they’d found somewhere else and I wondered if my size was turning them off. In the meantime my savings were taking a hit, covering the full amount of the rent.

I got a message from Daniel. He was just checking in. It had been a while since we had spoken and I explained the problem. To my surprise he offered a solution. I could say I was reluctant! The boys offered to share the second bedroom as it was larger than the room they currently occupied and it had an en-suite. Between the three of us, the apartment would become much more affordable, even for me. I told myself I was making an economically-sensible decision, but I knew what accepting their offer might mean; the throbbing between my thighs gave me away all too easily.

I’d leave it to fate. They were young after-all, and probably wouldn’t pass the referencing. If they did then maybe this was meant to be.

I guess it was meant to be.

On moving day I summoned all my willpower and decided I’d set some ground rules now we were going to be living together.

No more Friday night rituals. I’d come up some excuses for not ordering any takeout. That I wasn’t feeling well I was saving up for a new computer. I’d politely decline the weed, ensuring they knew that they were free to imbibe. I just needed to go a little easier on myself. I was older than them after-all.

The boys quickly moved their bags over and collected their keys, leaving to get the last of their belongings.
When they returned, they had greasy brown paper bags under their arms, the kind adorned with golden arches.

“You’ve just been treating us to takeout every weekend, we figured we’d bring the food for once.” They offered, as piles of burgers and fries and milkshakes were emptied onto the side. Enough for eight people. “I guess we over-ordered” Daniel shrugged, “always dangerous buying food when you’ve got the munchies.” He continued, chuckling before offering to fetch me a plate.

I was proud of myself, I explained that I wasn’t feeling very hungry, and to my relief they were completely fine with it. They’d eat after working up their appetite. I had considered making no-sex a condition of us living together as well but as Jonah sank to his knees and Daniel began unbuttoning my shirt, I decided to save that discussion for another day.

After the sex, I was so relaxed that when Daniel presented me with the tip of his joint, I figured there’d be no harm in one toke. One became two and then Jonah offered to get me a beer and later the burgers were reheated and I found myself feeding once again, the two boys consumed with the act of pleasuring me as I lay there bloated and filled to a level beyond discomfort, whimpering from the lust of my impending orgasm and sucking down my third milkshake from the paper cup offered up encouragingly by Daniel.

There I lay, naked and flat on my back on our couch, my enormous stomach now swollen like beach-ball obscuring my view of Jonah who was sucking expertly between my legs while Daniel hovered above me, taking the now-empty milkshake away and alternating between kissing me and letting me nibble at the the salty-saucy remnants of my dinner from his fingers. His free hand loose around my neck and his hard cock pressed eagerly into the soft flesh of my tits.

My breath grew steadily more ragged as my eyes rolled involuntarily to the back of my head. I feel every bit of life force cascade through my body, building to a crescendo at the tip of my cock.

“Go on! Let go!” Daniel says in my ear, his words are the trigger and I erupt, moaning in unbridled ecstasy.

“Good Pig”, I hear him whisper, almost wordlessly, as he leans closer, giving me one last kiss. His oversized, cock leaking a steady stream of precum across my tits. He lets go of my neck as Jonah detaches from my own, now deflating penis, and I’m left lying there in a daze, trying to catch my breath. I drift in and out to the sounds of Jonah sucking diligently on Daniel’s cock before passing out.

About an hour later, waking groggily, I can hear the two boys unpacking in their bedroom as I struggle to lift my bloated heavy body off the couch and look around at the mess of empty burger wrappers. I don’t stop to count them. Too afraid of the answer.

That was the moment I realised I might be in trouble, trapped in a situation I wasn’t sure I could escape.

We’ve never properly talked about my weight gain, but the larger I get the more frequent the sex becomes. How long that trend continues, I can’t be sure. It wasn’t long before the our weekend rituals began eating into the week. The addiction has firmly taken root. I am powerless to stop myself around these two. They have unlocked the code of my psyche and I am theirs to manipulate and grow.

I cannot express the feeling that I belong to them, like an object or pet, being kept at a level of sexual satisfaction that I find impossible to deny myself, but it has come at the cost of my rapidly expanding waistline.

I know, deep down, that it will one day cost me my mobility.