George Knopf
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The Four Encouragers of Freshman Year: Newton
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 15:00:02 +0000 UTCMay through August
I’ll never forget Damien. He was the only person I’ve ever met that was a gainer to the core. This wasn’t my first rodeo either. I had fattened my fair share of boys, but somehow Damien was free from the concerns of your average gainer. The societal pressure of growing into a bigger body, the embarrassment of ill-fitting clothes, the judgment of overeating in front of others, the health concerns, issues with mobility, issues with cleanliness– none of that phased Damien. He was going to get fatter at any cost and in his mind it was all pros and no cons. Sometimes I envied his attitude, his unfettered fetish for fat, but to this day I can’t say I will ever get there. And I’m an accomplished gainer myself.
I’m currently pushing three hundred pounds at five foot ten. When I met Damien I was closer to 250. I knew from an early age I was both a gainer and an encourager. My own body was my first test subject, and after my first forty pounds I began attracting and dating other gainers. When I met Damien I was in my mid twenties and had two boyfriends prior, one was a gainer and one was a civilian. Both of them fattened up significantly under my watch. I was experienced. I knew how to bulk up a cute guy, and Damien recognized that.
We first met on Grommr. I slid into his DMs after watching him gain a significant amount of weight over the span of a few months. I was impressed by his aptitude for gaining at his age, and when he sent me a face photo my jaw dropped. The kid was fucking beautiful. To have a shot at fattening up a guy that gorgeous was rare and I couldn’t not ask him out. In fact, I had to hide my eagerness at first out of fear of scaring him away.
In hindsight, I didn’t need to hide anything because Damien was just as eager. It didn’t take long before I had him in my apartment on a regular basis, chugging gainer shakes and eating pizza and being all around fat sluts. It was great fun and Damien was an absolute pro. His stomach was a bottomless black hole. His eating was relentless, and oftentimes he challenged my own capacity even though I was larger than him.
I will never forget one of our first feedings when he pushed me to the brink. We had already both eaten a large pizza and challenged ourselves to a whole cake each from the supermarket. The pizza had been washed down with beer which didn’t help matters. My stomach was uncomfortably stretched to the point that every belch felt like a gift from heaven. We sat on my couch, our bare bellies pressing forward into our laps where erections grew stiffer with every bite. I sat back and groaned a bit as Damien stood up and returned moments later with one sheet cake and then another.
“I don’t know if I’m up for that,” I said exasperatedly.
Damien grinned devilishly, putting one cake on either side of me and then straddling my lap. He felt heavy atop me as our bellies pressed together and my hands gravitated towards that gelatinous ass of his. I wanted to come and he knew that. He took a big scoop of cake with his bare hand and shoved it in my face aggressively before taking an equally big handful himself.
“Don’t you want to watch me fatten up into a prized pig?” He said. “I can’t do it alone.”
He continued feeding me until I felt like I was going to barf and everytime I resisted he held me down and stuffed me further. He kept things equal, but I was seemingly the only one struggling. Every bite became a heroic effort on my end and I began to wonder if it was possible for one’s stomach to actually rip open. After what felt like hours we had finally polished off both cakes. I lay splayed on the couch as Damien sat next to me, unphased. Typically, we would go to bed after this and fuck like animals, but I was incapacitated. For the first time in my life I felt truly pinned down by my own girth and feared that even the slightest move would induce projectile vomiting.
That said, it worked. I put on five pounds that week and Damien seven, a record I’ve yet to break several years later. In fact, mine and Damien’s union resulted in quite significant changes in both our bodies. The unbridled lust and appreciation of gaining had me intoxicated and, naturally, I began to develop feelings. Damien was hard to read though. He shied from intimacy and seemed mostly interested in gaining. Nevertheless, we were spending a lot of time together as the school year ended and summer arrived.
Damien started coming over almost daily and even spent most nights at my apartment. I kept the fridge and pantry stocked to the brim for the two of us and it still never seemed like enough. I was constantly at the grocery store, blowing all my money on heavy cream and frozen pizza and mass gainer. Damien contributed by surprising me with lavish takeout at any and all times of the day, which I suspected he charged to a credit card his parents footed. We were in hog heaven and I regret to say, I was falling in love.
I came close to making things official one night at a gay bar a couple of towns over. Damien was dressed in ridiculously snug clothes, per usual: a shirt that only covered his belly 80% of the way, a denim jacket that obviously could no longer button closed, and a pair of jeans that were on their last thread. These were my favorite pants that Damien owned and he knew this. Small holes had formed in the thighs and the cut accentuated his rump in a way that would’ve made it look like a BBL were he not also fat everywhere else.
We arrived at the bar stuffed full of McDonald’s and drank beers to accentuate our bloat. My flannel and Dickie’s were not as revealing as Damien’s outfit, but I still looked big and together we stood out as the youngest fat guys at the bar. At one point we found ourselves talking to some random guys and as I turned around my gut accidentally knocked a drink over onto one of them. I had about fifteen fresh pounds of chub hanging off me that I wasn’t yet accustomed to and felt both turned on and embarrassed by the mishap. The cup had fallen next to Damien who bent over to pick it up, his bare lovehandle jumping into view, and as he did so we all heard it. His pants ripped from those holes in the crotch all the way up the crack of his ass.
“Somebody’s body is TOO bootylicious,” someone howled nearby.
As Damien stood up his exposed lovehandle smashed into the bar table nearly toppling the whole thing over. Now all eyes were on us, the two fat guys making a mess and tearing out of their clothes. The twinks and muscle hunks around the bar whispered amongst each other, some even pointed. We took that as our cue to stumble back to the car hornily pawing at one another, both of us rock hard from the experience.
My hands tore further at the hole in Damien’s pants so I could grip the thick mounds of flesh protecting his pretty pink hole. I wanted him so bad. I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted to fuck someone as badly as I did in that moment. When we got to the car, which was parked on a dark and fairly vacant street, I shoved Damien against the exterior belly first. I fully tore his pants and sweat stained briefs open and wasted no time sliding my cock into his fattened arse with some saliva as lube. I came almost instantly.
My head was spinning with endorphins as Damien turned around to face me. He looked at me lustfully. I wanted him to be my boyfriend forever, I wanted us to grow massively fat together and plumb the depths of our shared fetish. I craved him with every fiber of my being. Yet I sensed a coldness behind his lustful stare. To Damien, this wasn’t about us, it was about him. The only growth he truly cared about was his own. So I took a step back and held my tongue.
By the end of summer I think both of us were surprised by how fat we had become. Damien tried to hide it, as though this was perfectly normal and expected, but I think even his expectations were exceeded. Which is saying something.
I was actually having a hard time adjusting to the new weight. My legs had grown incredibly beefy, constantly rubbing together, bursting the seams of all my pants, and refusing to fit into even the roomiest of seats. Stretch marks exploded across my inner thighs and groin. My cock was losing inches too, especially when I sat down and my ever growing belly folded into my lap. I had new rolls in my armpits and above my love handles, my tits were drooping, and my face was filling out. I felt encumbered with fresh padding and despite the eroticism I sometimes felt scared and overwhelmed.
Damien was growing just as fast. I had the pleasure of watching his belly fold into a thick and deep overhang for the first time. His love handles ballooned and were almost comically rotund compared to the rest of him. He was getting stretch marks all across his belly which was becoming more impressive than his ass. When I met him he was wearing shirts that deliberately displayed his girth and now he didn’t have to try so hard. He was just fat and there was no containing it.
The added size turned us both into lazy slobs. We rarely left the house and spent nearly every hour of the day pigging out or fondling each other. In the final days of summer we basically lived in my darkened bedroom. The sheets stained with food and cum and lube. We were eating sheet cakes regularly as we rolled around in bed. I loved the contrast of his constantly stiff cock wedged between the plush jelly of his thighs. Damien could come multiple times in a day and often did, usually after every meal. I saved my load until the end of the day, allowing my libido to conquer the neverending flow of calories into our bodies. Sometimes I would direct Damien to ejaculate onto whatever we were eating and then I would swallow it.
One such time he icinged a rather expensive cake we had picked up from a bakery. I savored the sweet and salty mixture and then rolled over onto my side, my belly sloshing against his. Damien laid on his back like a starfish and I admired how much higher his belly fat loomed in the air than it did a few months ago. The damage we had done to one another’s waistlines was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
“You’re going back to school soon,” I said.
“Yup,” he said and then belched.
“Sophomore year…” a silence hung in the air. I used to expect Damien to fill these silences before I knew him well. “What do you say we aim for the sophomore sixty?”
“I am aiming for seventy,” Damien replied. “But I won’t need your help,” he continued. “Actually, I think we should stop seeing each other after tonight.”
My heart dropped. I rolled away from him and then sat on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t help but notice how my stomach took up so many more inches on my lap. That was all due to Damien’s veracity.
“Why?” was all I managed to say.
“It’s just a new school year, you know? Gotta focus on myself, keep things moving. Growing.”
I wanted to cry.
“It’s nothing personal, though,” Damien chimed, sensing the mood going sideways. “I’ve really enjoyed all of this.”
And that was basically it. Damien left my house the next day and never messaged me again. To say I was heartbroken would be an understatement, yet a part of me always knew this was coming. Damien played by his own rules.
A month or so after we broke up I saw him post an update on Grommr. Somehow, not surprisingly, he was noticeably fatter. I couldn’t stand the thought of him growing without me. I blocked him on all social media. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.
