Originally published Febuary 11, 2018.
Contains: long-term weight gain.
I wrote this story as a bit of self-indulgent wish-fulfillment after my last two were so challenging for me as a writer. In my time as an active gainer, I’ve never considered making an Amazon wishlist for people to buy me things. One, because I’m very picky with foods, and so my wishlist would have like three things on it. Two, because I’m fortunate enough to be able to fund my gaining myself, so I feel I’m in no place to ask people to contribute their money to help me grow.
That said, I’ve had this one specific fantasy in which I make a wishlist, and it includes, among other things, the peanut butter that goes in my weight gain shakes. Peanut butter is where most of the calories come from in my recipe, and a jar of peanut butter has enough calories to put a pound on me. So I had this fantasy where I set up the wishlist, with a note on the peanut butter saying, “Each jar of peanut butter you buy has enough calories to put a pound on me.” But then people get a bit too enthusiastic about buying me peanut butter based on the premise they’re investing a pound in my grown. So I’m getting so many deliveries of peanut butter that I have to drink gainer shakes constantly to keep up. And of course, as a result, my weight balloons.
The protagonist of this story, Orlando, finds himself in the same predicament.
It was Friday night, and Orlando was at home, gaming and drinking an extra-large gainer shake. He’d blended together five cups of the fattening mixture, and had every intention of gulping it all down before the end of the night. But the shake had filled him up fast, not helped by the entire pizza he’d eaten on his own for dinner. As full as he was, the two cups he had left might as we have been enough to fill the entire blender’s jar.
Sitting back on his couch, Orlando lifted his shirt up to expose his beach-ball-sized belly. The taut globe of flesh was perceptibly stretched out from everything he’d stuffed inside of it that night, a feeling emphasized as Orlando tried to rub it and found it was still store. He hoped “letting it breath” would make it hurt just a little less, allowing him to finish the shake. But as big as he’d already bloated it up, he wasn’t sure that was possible.
Of course, Orlando’s girth that night wasn’t all shake and pizza. He’d always been a big guy, even before he’d started gaining. Any time he made a half-hearted resolution to lose some weight, he never stuck with it for long, and he always ended up a bit bigger than he was when he started. It had been about six months since he’d embraced the fact that losing weight wasn’t what he really wanted, and had allowed his behavior follow suit. He’d been eating bigger meals, snacking more, enjoying more fattening foods, and of course, drinking gainer shakes.
But that one in particular seemed to be besting him. So he put the jar down besides him and pulled out his phone, to open up the site where he posted about his gaining. He’d posted a few photos of himself when he started drinking the shake earlier that night, posing to make the photos extra appealing. Looking in his notifications, Orlando was excited to see he’d gotten a comment on one of those photos. Clicking the link, he was brought to a photo of him taken from below as he guzzled down the shake, with the comment, “Chug it all down, tubbs.”
Orlando felt a rush simultaneously travel up his spine and all throughout his pelvis. He took a deep breath and typed out a quick reply: “Yes sir!” After locking his phone and pocketing it, he grabbed the jar and started chugging down the shake again. At least, he tried to chug, but the thick mixture had other ideas, forcing him to drink only as slowly as a sip. A constant sip, a lengthy sip where he held the jar up for what felt like minutes, but a sip nonetheless.
By the time he was sure he couldn’t have much more, he let the jar down and swallowed what remained in his mouth. It took several rounds, but eventually his empty maw fell open with a gasp, followed by heavy breathing as his tongue tried to reach all the areas around his lips where any shake remained. With the exception of a couple of corners that his tongue couldn’t reach, he’d cleaned the last of it off his face, sparing (almost) none of the fattening calories from the trip to his stomach to make him fatter. With a satisfied “Mmm”, he picked up the blender’s jar to see how much, if anything, he had left to get down.
A cup of shake had settled back to the bottom. Upon the sight of how much shake he had left to drink, he let the jar fall on his meaty thigh with a discouraged sigh. He felt like he would never finish the shake at that rate.
Orlando put the jar on the table in front of him, grunting as he bent forward to reach, before he sat back again. Giving his belly a gentle pat, he rubbed the flabby mass over as he looked down to see just how big it had grown. Although he wished he could have gotten all of the shake down, he had to admit, his belly looked pretty impressive. Maybe, he thought, it wasn’t such a bad thing if he let that final bit of shake go undrunk.
Taking out his phone again, Orlando went back to the gaining site to see the latest photos from the guys he followed on there. All of them were a good deal bigger than him, some by a few inches around, some by a few feet. One of the larger of those guys had posted a new photo lying back on his couch, allowing his massive gut to shove into the air and show off just how big he was. With a quick breath, Orlando looked from the photo to his gainer shake and back. Soon he’d pocketed his phone and picked the gainer shake back up. As he put the jar to his lips, he told himself that not drinking the shake wouldn’t get him any closer to being as big as his inspirations.
And so, with his second wind, Orlando tipped the jar upward. He tried to chugging the shake, before he soon found that wouldn’t be possible. So he went back down to a constant sipping speed and lay back against the couch. No matter what it took, he would not put the jar down until all that shake was in his belly.
Orlando drank the shake at a steady pace, even as the stretching of his stomach became unignorable painful. Even as more of his swallows were accompanied by grunts and groans the more he drank. Even as the thick mixture lost any appeal it might have had as a beverage for its own sake. It would be worth it, he told himself. He remembered what that commenter had said: “Chug it all down, tubbs.” He repeated the words in his head, until the jar was nearly vertical, the last of the shake dribbling down the side and into his panting mouth.
And then he put the jar down one last time. With an extended groan, he let his head fall back as his free hand rose to touch his belly. He let his fingers run over the top, which didn’t help the pain much, but still felt good in a way he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was getting to feel just how firm his stomach was now that he’d filled it to the brim. Either way, he felt immensely satisfied with how much he’d drunk down.
Orlando had been quite enjoying embracing his desire to get bigger in those past six months. He loved comparing photos and watching his features soften as time went on. He loved the feeling of clothes that once fit becoming a little tighter, like they were hugging him in congratulations for his size. And he loved the attention he was getting from folks on the site where he’d once been a nobody.
Picking up his selfie stick, he took a photo that captured the true extent of his bloat with all that shake inside of him. He also let his mouth hang open and his eyes close halfway, emphasizing how full he felt. Once the photo was taken, he posted it, and put the phone back in his pocket to grow some notifications. In the meantime, he decided to game a while longer before he tried to get up.
It took about an hour until Orlando finished up his game. By then, the shake had digested enough that he could finally move from his spot. As he stood, his belly billowed out into the new space now available to it. If felt good to walk around with his shake-filled gut jutting out in front of him. Even as it got in the way of him trying to wash the jar in the kitchen sink. Even as it ran into his bedroom door because he was used to opening it for a belly that took up a bit less room.
Orlando went to bed without checking the site again. When he woke up, he woke up to a notification tab with a double digit number over it. Opening up the menu, he saw that most of it was from his post-shake photo the night before. Whatever he’d done, it seemed he’d done it right. With a smile, Orlando clicked on the photo to read the comments:
“If I were there, I’d feed you another one.”
“Ready to do it all over again tomorrow?”
“Love seeing that gut grow!”
“If It were up to me, you’d drink one of those shakes every night, until you could drink two.”
While Orlando liked almost all the comments he got on his photos, the ones from people threatening to take control of his eating habits, forcing him to grow as they saw fit, especially turned him on. If only, he told himself, if only they weren’t so far away. He would have loved for them to bring him that food and decide for him how much he was going to eat.
Then he remembered that was something like that: wishlists.
Orlando had never imagined he’d get popular enough that anyone would want to buy him something from a wishlist. But he’d also never imagined his photos would get as much attention as they were getting those days. Maybe it would be worth giving it a try?
So Orlando spent that morning putting together a list of his favorite fattening foods: frozen pizzas, gift cards to restaurants he liked, weight gain powders and shakes that he thought might be worth trying, and peanut butter for his shakes. Next to the peanut butter, he added a note clarifying it’s inclusion: “One jar of this peanut butter has enough calories to put a pound on me. Buy this jar to invest a pound in my weight!” He also added bulk shipments of the peanut butter to the list with similar notes about how many pounds they could put on him. Whether they would actually put that much weight on him, he supposed, remained to be seen.
With the list put together, Orlando set it to not let him know when someone had bought something for him, preferring to be pleasantly surprised when and if it happened. He also set the list to not remove items that had been bought for him, in case more than one person was feeling generous. With all that taken care of, he added the list to his profile and made a post about it, before shutting down his laptop to go about his day.
It only took two days for the first order to come in. Orlando came home to find a large package at his doorstep. It was rather heavy when he picked it up, forcing him to unlock the front door first before he tried to take it inside. Opening it on the kitchen counter revealed a six-pack of peanut butter, along with a note from an anonymous buyer that said, “Drink up, tubbs. I want to see those extra pounds pile on.”
A shiver went down Orlando’s spine before settling in his crotch, where he felt his pants getting extra tight. With a smile on his face, he pulled out his blender, as well as the other ingredients that went into his shake, and fired it up.
When Orlando first tried drinking five cups of gainer shake in one night, it was for the challenge, to see if he could fit that much in his belly at once. The idea never crossed his mind that it would become something he’d do on a regular basis. The cost of the peanut butter alone made that improbable. But now, with so many jars of peanut butter available to him, there was nothing stopping Orlando from making himself five cups of gainer shake every day.
And that’s what he did for the next week after his first delivery. Every night, he pushed himself to drink five cups of gainer shake, so he could see the pounds really pile on. Problem was, some nights he’d come home and find he didn’t feel like drinking that much, or any at all. But a visit to that gainer site was all it took to awaken the desire in him again. He saw all those guys with bellies bigger than his, all those guys who could dwarf even him, and he knew that not drinking any shake wouldn’t get him any closer to their size. That was all it took to get him to take out the blender and a jar of peanut butter.
After a week, Orlando was only halfway through the six-pack of peanut butter the anonymous buyer had sent him, in spite of guzzling down a five-cup gainer shake every night. What had started as a challenge was now something Orlando was used to doing. Guzzling down those several thousand calories over the course of an hour was just another part of his evening routine. And while Orlando didn’t think he looked bigger, his clothes were starting to get tight in spots–the seam where his sleeves met his shirt, the waist of his pants if he buckled his belt as tightly as he always did–which had him excited for where his growth would go from there.
But before Orlando could get too comfortable, he came home one day to find another package at his doorstep. It looked identical to the package the peanut butter had arrived in a week before, and was nearly as heavy as he lugged it into the kitchen. Upon opening it, he was surprised to find a 27-pack of “very high calorie” calorie boosters, containing over 500 calories in each juice-box-sized pack. Orlando stood in place as he looked inside the box, before taking out his phone and taking a photo to post online.
“When I posted that wishlist, I didn’t think I’d get this much interest. Last week, it was a six pack of peanut butter, and now this? I guess you guys really want me bigger.”
And he posted it. Not long after, as he was about to make his shake, he checked for notifications, and one comment on his photo caught his attention: “Blend it in with your weight gain shakes.”
The idea made Orlando raise an eyebrow. He knew those boosters were supposedly hard to drink, having seen their consistency likened to that of cake batter. His shakes were already hard enough to drink without him adding even more milk to water them down. How could he possibly drink the booster on top of that?
Orlando dismissed the suggestion and went on with his business, making his peanut butter gainer shake like he always did. As it was blending, though, he couldn’t help but look back at the boosters. They seemed so innocuous sitting unopened on the counter. Surely one couldn’t make the shake that much more difficult to drink, right?
So Orando picked up one of the booster packs, opened the small hatch on top of his blender’s jar, and poured the whole thing in as the shake blended. Briefly, he could hear the motor sputter as it tried to incorporate the booster in with the rest of the shake. But soon enough, it was all blended together, and Orlando took it off the stand to bring with him to the living room.
With the console on and the controller in hand, Orlando laid back and got ready for another evening of gaming and chugging. As the start screen loaded, he took a big gulp of the shake, without thinking much about what the new ingredient might mean for it. And while the combination of chocolate and peanut butter with vanilla was something of surprise, he was pleasantly surprised to find the shake wasn’t all that much harder to drink. So, over the course of the next hour, he kept gulping the shake down, until all of it was in his growing stomach.
Of course, by then Orlando was feeling quite full. With the jar in on hand, he took a photo of his bloated self with his mouth hanging agape to emphasize his fullness. Looking more closely at the photo, Orlando was impressed to see just how big he looked. Though it had only been a week since he’d set up the wishlist, he could have sworn his belly looked bigger than it had before. Maybe it was just him improving his capacity and thus stretching it out. But as he looked down at the turgid mass in front of him, he smiled. If nothing else, he certainly felt bigger.
When Orlando posted the photo, he captioned it, “I added that booster shake to my regular weight gain shake. What do you think?” It didn’t take long for a comment to appear reading, “I think you should drink another booster.”
As full as he was, it seemed impossible. But that was what gainers did, right? Keep eating even when they feel like they can’t, right? Orlando kept those questions in the back of his mind as he decided to get another booster to drink.
His stomach, however, had other ideas. As he tried push himself up to go into the kitchen and get another booster, he found himself pushing against all the shake he’d drunk, sloshing around in his stomach. And his stomach was pushing back, so much so that he fell back against the couch with a muffled, “Oof,” that was barely audible. A few more attempts to sit up all ended much the same way, no matter how much he pushed himself forward.
With a sigh, Orlando finally fell back and let himself sink deeper into the couch. After pulling out his phone again, he found the photo he’d posted earlier, with the comment suggesting he drink another booster. In response to that comment, he added, “I would if I could get up.” By the time he was ready to give it another try, his comment had amassed five likes
That time, after some pushing and grunting, Orlando was finally able to sit up straight, resulting in a burp as the contents of his swollen stomach settled. He gave his belly some rubs before he pushed himself into a standing position, finding it easier than sitting up. Once he was standing, he felt himself wobble a bit as he found his center of gravity yet again. It seemed to have shifted slightly forward. forcing him to lean back before he could hobble his way into the kitchen. The feeling of his belly jiggling as he walked was certainly a bonus.
In the kitchen, Orlando picked up another booster and shook it with as much energy as he could muster. After opening the carton, he put his lips around the hole and
started sipping, finding the booster had a consistency like cake batter and a flavor barely worth mentioning. Somehow, without the contrast of his usual shake, the vanilla flavor barely stood out. But he kept going, intent on getting the entire booster into his overstuffed gut.
By then, his belly had been stuffed so tight that each sip was simultaneously difficult and barely noticeable. As full as he was, he could barely get the smallest gulps down, with each swallow feeling like it would surely be his last. And yet, with his stomach so crammed full, once the sip of booster hit, Orlando could barely feel its impact. It was such a small amount in comparison to how much he’d already drunk. And yet, how much he’d already drunk was the reason it took him nearly ten minutes to empty the entire carton.
Once he’d finished the booster, Orlando’s arm loosened and fell by his side, limp aside from the fingers that held on to the empty carton. But rather than hanging straight down, both of his arms hung at an angle, like if they got too close to his belly and touched it, it might burst. At the very least, Orlando treated his belly with that much caution as he wandered around his apartment. His arms remained diagonal at his side, and his legs shuffled slowly, carrying the rotund ball of fat as he went around the apartment, trying to do his usual nighttime routine and taking extra long to get anything done.
After all, his once beach-ball-sized belly has inflated at least another inch in all directions with all that shake inside his gut. As he tried to walk around his apartment, his hands would occasionally wander to the top of his gut and rub it, rather than helping him keep his balance. It was firm and tight, and as his hands ran around it, he could feel that it had grown bigger.
When Orlando walked past the couch again, he bent over sideways to grab his selfie stick, figuring it a safer bet than bending forward when he was so full. Without even posing, he took a photo with his mouth agape and eyes glossed over. It was perfect. He went onto the site where he’d posted his previous pics and added the caption, “All that shake, plus a VHC booster. I don’t think I can drink anymore.”
The comments rolled in over the course of the night, as Orlando tried to get ready for bed.
“Now that’s a gut!” “It’s all going to a good place.” “Keep going and keep growing!” “Love how round you’re looking.” “Whoa!”
And one after Orlando had gone to bed:
“Damn, if you’re going to go through the boosters that fast, we better make sure you’re well stocked.”
Those days, it was more common for Orlando to come home to a package on his doorstep than an empty stoop. Thankfully, most of his buyers opted for portions smaller than the six-pack of peanut butter or the 27-pack of booster. That day was no exception, as the wide, flat package portended the frozen pizza that would be found inside. Orlando’s chubby cheeks pushed up as he smiled, happy that someone had bought him something other than peanut butter or boosters. Holding onto the railing with one hand, he bent over to pick the pizza up, easier said than done with how much belly was now in his way.
Once inside, Orlando opened the package and tossed the pizza into the freezer, having to push aside all the boosters he’d put in there for long-term storage until he got through his current package. After one bad experience with putting a thawed premade pizza in the oven, Orlando knew better than to not refreeze them before baking them. He was just glad he’d used a baking tray that time, or it could have been so much worse.
With the pizza refreezing, Orlando pulled his reusable bottles out of his work bag to wash them. With how much peanut butter and booster he was getting in the mail those days, he had to drink gainer shake constantly to keep up. He’d drink one in the morning, and two in the evening after he got home. In addition, every morning, he blended two shakes to store in opaque bottles that he could bring into work and sip on during the day. He always waited until he got home to wash them, for he didn’t want to have to answer any questions from his coworkers about what exactly he was drinking.
But before he started washing those bottles, he put them down to mix up another shake to drink before dinner. Those days, the boosters had entirely replaced the milk in his shakes, an attempt on Orlando’s part to try to keep up with how many he was getting. Occasionally he’d throw in a splash of milk to water the shake down to a more drinkable consistency. But at that point, Orlando was used to the sludge-like mix his boosters and peanut butter made, and gulped it down as fast as he could at nearly every hour of the day.
That included the time he spent washing his reusable bottles. And so that night, as Orlando rinsed the dried shake out of them, he also gulped down his fresh shake constantly, making sure there was always some in his mouth as he washed. Sure, after having three of those shakes and breakfast and lunch, he already felt quite stuffed, which is why he took so long to drink them.
But stuffed didn’t mean much to Orlando those days. He only noticed his fullness if he got close enough to his maximum that it felt like he might burst. Any sensations less intense than that all felt the same, and in his mind, meant that he could eat more. And so he did, drinking down his gainer shake until dinner time came and he could heat up the pizza.
Once it was time for dinner, Orlando waddled into the kitchen with a walk that was more becoming of someone 200 pounds heavier than him. But when he was constantly stuffed to the gills, a feeling most people only experienced after a particularly decadent night of dining out, he had to adjust the way he moved to compensate. With such a tightly packed stomach, he walked with a wider gait and shorter stride to minimize how much he disturbed the contents under pressure. His arms hung out far away from his belly, like even an accidental bump could make him explode. On the bright side, his posture had never been better, as he straightened his back to let his gut protrude out with as much space as it could possibly need. And with each passing day, that amount of space was increasing.
Back in the kitchen, Orlando turned on the oven to preheat it for the pizza, leaving him without much to do as he watched the temperature display slowly climb up. He pulled out his phone and went onto the gaining site, where his popularity was growing even faster than he was. It had been a while since he’d posted a new update or photo, and yet he still logged on to see over 20 notifications and three new messages. With a smile, he checked through his notifications, responding to the comments on his photos if he felt like he had something to say in return, and responding to all the new messages. It took him long enough that by the time he was done, the oven was ready, and he hadn’t even mixed his next shake yet.
With a sigh, Orlando took out the pizza, put it on a baking tray, and put it in the oven with a timer set for 25 minutes. Once it was baking, he took out his blender and poured in three packages of the calorie booster. He then pulled out what remained of the jar of peanut butter in the refrigerator, which only produced about a cup and a half. He opened another cabinet in his pantry to reveal the dozen-and-a-half or so jars of peanut butter that he still had to go through. In the back of his mind, he doubted that even as his constant pace, he could get through all of them before another two dozen showed up.
But there was no use in wondering about that when he still had so many to drink. So he quelled that thought and reached with his flabby arm for another jar to provide the remaining cup-hand-a-half for his shake. He then poured in an unmeasured amount of milk, hoping to make it a bit more drinkable to help him wash down his pizza. Upon hitting blend, he listened to the blender sputter to mix up such viscous ingredients and waited for the mixture to become a uniform color.
While he waited for the pizza to bake, Orlando decided to take some more photos to share. After taking off his 2XL shirt, which was already starting to get tight, he grabbed his selfie stick and prepped it to take a photo of himself from below as he drank the shake. With the blender’s jar in one hand and the selfie stick in the other, he raised his drink and pressed the button on the stick’s handle. After gulping down some of the shake, he put it down and pulled up his phone to take a look, expecting to see the bottom of the jar sticking out over his belly. And yet, all he saw was gut, which had completely blocked the view of the jar.
With a sigh, Orlando picked up the jar to take the photo again, this time angling it to be sure he could see the bottom of the jar peeking out over his belly. It took a few tries to get the angle right, for he kept underestimating just how much his belly could block the camera’s view of the jar. But eventually he got an angle he was happy with, one that showed off nearly his entire belly in addition to what he was drinking. It wasn’t what he had in mind, but he had a feeling it would be even more popular, as he posted it with the caption, “Fifth shake today.”
He didn’t even have to wait for the comments to roll in:
“Keep drinking. You know you’re not full yet.”
“Fifth of ten, at least.”
“Just hook this pig up to a pump and keep it coming.
“Chug it down so you can have another with dinner..”
“That gut is begging for a punching.”
“Better buy him more boosters so he can’t stop fattening up.”
“You’ll be 600 pounds before you know it.”
“You just can’t stop, can you? And you won’t until that gut fills a room.”
“Time to restock your peanut butter. Expect another shipment soon. ;-)”
“Nothing left for you but to eat, drink, and gain.”
And he furrowed his brow before shaking his head and closing the app. He missed the days when comments were nicer. Now it seemed his size had just increased his gravitational pull for pushy commenters. Not something he was entirely thrilled about.
But it did manage to pass the time until his pizza was done. After taking it out of the oven and letting the cheese cool a bit to settle, he cut the large pie in sixths like a small. With two slices on a plate in one hand and his jug of gainer shake in the other, he sat down in front of the TV to game the night away as he munched on his pizza and drank his shake. His tree trunk legs, having grown more muscular to have to support his increased weight, still parted as his tire-sized belly sunk between them. At that point, he was tired enough to simply let them separate so his belly could sink into the new space.
Orlando propped the plate of pizza on top of his rounded belly, while the shake went on a small table next to the couch. As soon as he started playing, the slices of pizza disappeared faster than even he expected. To be able to enjoy something that tasted like food, instead of like a concoction made with the sole purpose of getting him fatter, was a very welcome change of pace. So welcome that he wolfed down the other four slices without even touching his gainer shake. Of course, all that pizza left him thirsty for something refreshing.
Out of habit, he looked at the gainer shake. Out of weariness, he stared at it rather than taking it in his hand. Out of discontentment, he got up from the couch, scooting forward until his center of gravity could pull him off the couch and enable him to stand up, and went to get a glass of water.
Orlando didn’t touch his shake for the rest of the night. As his body digested all the food and drink he’d had that day and approached something resembling a reasonable level of fullness, he found himself feeling more content. The painful fullness of drinking five shakes a day on top of his usual three meals had seemingly become such a constant in Orlando’s life that just feeling regular fullness was a relief. He made sure he didn’t drink too much water as he played, lest he fill his belly nearly to bursting again, and allowed himself to just enjoy the sensation.
And once Orlando was a comfortable level of full, he found his size much more enjoyable for its own sake. During loading screens and cut scenes, he couldn’t keep his hands off of the mound of blubber sitting in front of him. All those shakes and meals had lead to a soft, blubbery exterior that his fingers could sink into. And yet, a push revealed the firm core, made up of stomach muscles forced to overextend constantly and given the protein to grow in that direction. He had so much more surface to explore now, and felt like he would never tire of familiarizing himself with his doughy, bulbous addition. His smile, framed by a double chin that was barely separated from his two pudgy cheeks by the faintest suggestion of a crease, only grew wider as he got to know his new girth.
With one last satisfied sigh, accompanied by his hands contentedly resting on top of his belly where his stomach lay, Orlando picked up the controller again with his left hand. But first, he pulled out his phone and deleted the link to the wishlist from his profile on the gainer site. He then deleted the wishlist itself. Back on the gainer site, he kept his post about the subject to a cryptic, “I’ll be taking things at my own pace from here on out.” After posting it, he closed the site before he could even look at the resulting notifications, before pocketing his phone and hitting ‘B’ to return to the game.