Jace settled into the couch with a thud, his stomach already grumbling in anticipation. It was Friday night, and he was ready to indulge in his favorite guilty pleasures. He set a grease-stained bag of fast food by his side, ready to savor every calorie. He'd been looking forward to this all day, having skipped lunch to make room for his decadent binge. The smell of processed goodness filled the room, making his mouth water. He peeled off his shirt, revealing the beginnings of a soft, round belly that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. It was a sign of his recent indulgences, but it only added to the excitement. He was about to embark on a solo journey of self-indulgence that was both taboo and thrilling.

He opened his laptop, navigating to a folder labeled "Feeding Time." His playlist was meticulously crafted to match his desires—scenes of oversized women in various states of undress, all of them indulging in massive amounts of food. It was a world where being big was celebrated, where the act of eating was as erotic as it was necessary for survival. He'd done this before, but each time was better than the last, pushing him deeper into his obsession.

The first video featured a hefty chubby girl in a red bikini, her curves stretching the fabric to its limits. "It's girls' weekend in Punta Gorda!" she cooed, her breasts jiggling with every movement. Jace's hand slid down his stomach to his crotch, tracing the outline of his growing erection. He took a bite of a cheeseburger, the flavors a symphony in his mouth.

As the girl devoured a stack of pancakes with gusto, Jace couldn't help but fantasize about his own body expanding. He reached into the bag for a handful of fries, feeling the heat transfer to his fingertips. His cock stiffened as he watched her chew with exaggerated slowness, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. He matched her pace, swallowing a mouthful of food before letting his hand wander back to his groin.

The next video began, and Jace felt his arousal spike. A voluptuous massive flabby girl peeled off her clothes, revealing rolls of soft skin that he longed to touch. He reached into the bag for another burger, feeling the grease seep through the wrapper onto his skin. Each bite brought him closer to climax, his hand moving faster, his breathing heavier.

The climax of the night came with the final video, starring a BBW he had a particular fondness for. As she moaned and gorged herself on cake, he couldn't stop imagining the warm, sticky mess smeared across her belly. He stroked himself feverishly, his hand slick with the grease from the food. He came hard, his eyes glued to the screen.

The next few moments were a blur of exhaustion and satisfaction. He looked into the bag to find it empty, and his eyes drifted to the clock. He had lost track of time, but that was the price of a good binge. He had always enjoyed the feeling of being full, but this was different. This was more than just physical—it was a mental escape.

Days turned into weeks, and Jace began to notice changes in his body. His clothes grew tight, his stomach a permanent fiesta of stretch marks. At first, it was a thrill, a sign of his commitment to his newfound hobby. He'd look in the mirror, caressing his belly, imagining the day when it would hang over his waistband like a deflated balloon.

But then the comments started. Concerned glances from coworkers, friends, and even his family. They talked about health risks, offered help, suggested doctor visits, but Jace was in his element. He'd tell them it was just a phase, that he was just "exploring." Inside, he knew that wasn't entirely true. His desires had morphed into something darker, something he couldn't resist.

He sought refuge online, finding communities of like-minded individuals who understood his urges. He posted pictures of his ever-expanding physique, receiving praise and even donations from those who found his transformation a turn-on. It was in these forums that he first encountered the term "gainer" and realized that he wasn't alone in his quest for more.

Entering the world of gaining was like stepping through a looking glass. Jace's life was consumed by food and sex, and the line between the two grew increasingly blurred. His fantasies shifted, now focusing on becoming the obese subject of his desires, rather than simply observing from a distance. He wanted to feel the weight of his own flesh, the way it jiggled and stretched with every breath, the way it would pin him down, leaving him helpless and needy.

His new online friends encouraged him to indulge, offering tips and sharing their own experiences. And then there was Alex, the male lion from one of his favorite videos. They had bonded over their shared passion, and soon, their friendship grew into something more. Alex would visit, bringing with him bags of greasy takeout and a gentle touch that sent Jace into a frenzy of lust.

Jace's days grew shorter as his waistline grew larger. The simple act of walking became a chore, his knees creaking under the weight of his ballooning body. His skin was perpetually sticky with sweat and grease, but he found that his newfound friends didn't seem to mind. In fact, they reveled in it, worshiping his bulk.

One night, as he sat alone in the darkness of his apartment, he decided to take the plunge. He would become the star of his own feeding fantasy, a monstrous mountain of flesh that could satisfy even the most devoted feeders.

The doorbell rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He padded to the door, his bare feet leaving sticky prints on the floor. A delivery of two extra-large meat lover's pizzas was waiting for him, a gift from one of his devoted online admirers. He brought them back to the couch, his breathing already labored from the effort, and turned on the TV, queuing up his favorite video.

The screen flickered to life, revealing Alex and the BBW from his dreams, tied to chairs and being fed by two muscular tigers. Jace's heart raced as he watched, his hand sliding under his shirt to rub his bulging stomach. He tore into the first pizza, the cheese stretching like taffy, the crust crunching satisfyingly between his teeth.

He devoured both pizzas with an animalistic fervor, his body quivering with each bite. His breath grew shallower as his stomach distended, pushing against his ribs like a swollen river threatening to break its banks. He was so full he could barely move, but the feeling was intoxicating.

As he sat there, his belly threatening to consume him, Jace felt a twinge of fear. This wasn't just a phase. This was his life now, his new reality. The thought both terrified and excited him. He knew the risks, the pain and the limitations, but he also knew the power he held. He was a creature of excess, a god of gluttony, and he loved it.

With a sigh, he leaned back, letting his body succumb to gravity. The couch creaked under his weight, the cushions molding to his form. His eyes grew heavy, and he allowed sleep to claim him. Tomorrow would bring more food, more attention, more growth. And he was ready for it.

As the weeks turned to months, Jace's world shrank. His body grew so massive that even the simple act of standing was a Herculean effort. He was no longer the fit, attractive man he had been. In his place was a lardy giant, unable to even cross his legs without feeling the strain. His skin was a minefield of stretch marks, and his once-handsome face was obscured by layers of fat.

But he didn't care. He had found his calling, his purpose in life. Each meal was a victory, a declaration of his dominance over his own body. And when the pain became too much, when the world outside grew too oppressive, he had Alex, who visited frequently with food and a soft, understanding touch.

Their feeding sessions grew longer, the food more elaborate. They'd sit on the floor, Jace's body sprawled out like a beached whale, while Alex fed him with a spoon, whispering sweet nothings into his ear about what a good, greedy boy he was. The weight of Alex's hand on his belly was a comfort, a reminder that he was desired, that he was loved.

Their intimacy grew, and soon, it was more than just feeding. They'd touch each other, their soft, doughy flesh colliding in a symphony of sensation. It was a connection that went beyond sex—it was about power and vulnerability, about the need to be consumed and the need to be consumed by.

And as the pounds piled on, so too did the donations from his devoted fans. They sent money, food, even special equipment to accommodate his new lifestyle. It was a strange existence, one that revolved around the expansion of his own flesh, but it was his.

One day, as Jace lay on his bed, his stomach a round hill of fat, Alex looked at him with concern in his eyes. "What if we take it too far?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jace just grunted, his breathing thick and wet. "Too far?" he managed to croak out. "There's no such thing, my love."

Alex nodded, his eyes shining with the same mad hunger that fueled Jace's appetite. And together, they embarked on their darkest, most delicious adventure yet—a race to the brink of oblivion, where the only prize was more.

Jace's descent into obese hyper-immobility was a gradual one, each step a deliberate choice that grew more irresistible with each pound gained. Initially, his weight gain was a curiosity, a thrilling novelty that filled his days with excitement and his nights with feverish fantasy. He reveled in the sensation of his clothes tightening around him, the way his stomach grew rounder and softer, and the gasps he'd get from his online admirers when they saw new pictures of his burgeoning bulk.

The first signs of real limitation came with the simple act of walking. His once-graceful stride grew heavier, his knees protesting with each step. His thighs chafed constantly, leaving his skin raw and sensitive. Stairs became a battle, his lungs burning with the effort of lifting his ever-increasing weight.

Jace's appetite grew with his body, and his meals grew more frequent and more substantial. His kitchen was a minefield of empty takeout boxes, and the fridge was perpetually stocked with high-calorie, high-fat foods. The simple act of preparing a meal grew arduous, and he began to rely more heavily on food delivery services to satisfy his insatiable hunger.

As the months passed, his body began to betray him. His back and knees ached from the constant strain, and his skin grew stretched and sore. He'd wheeze and pant when he had to move more than a few feet. His once-snug furniture was now a prison of plush cushions that swallowed him whole, leaving him trapped in a sea of his own flab.

He started to miss work, his fatigue and pain making it impossible to maintain his previous schedule. His job transitioned to remote work, which only exacerbated his sedentary lifestyle. His social life dwindled to interactions with his devoted feeder fans, who were all too eager to enable his descent further.

The day came when Jace could no longer deny the reality of his situation. His clothes were all but discarded, replaced with oversized t-shirts and sweatpants that barely contained his gargantuan girth. Getting in and out of the shower was a Herculean task, the act of cleaning his body a grueling marathon. He could no longer reach his toes, let alone tie his shoes. His once-muscular arms were now weighed down by layers of fat, making even the most basic tasks feel like wrestling a giant octopus.

His bed, once a bastion of comfort, had become a cocoon of pain. Turning over required a coordinated effort that left him winded and sweating. His stomach had grown so large that it pressed uncomfortably against his lungs, making deep breaths a luxury. He'd wake up in the night, panicking that he was being smothered by his own flesh.

Alex, his devoted feeder, became both caretaker and lover, his strong hands a lifeline in Jace's world of excess. They'd share meals that could feed a family, their fingers interlaced as they pushed food into Jace's mouth, his jaws working overtime to keep up with the influx. Their intimate moments grew more intense as Jace's body grew more immobile, the power dynamic between them shifting with each ounce of fat that was added.

But even Alex's care couldn't stave off the inevitable. Jace's body reached a tipping point, and his once occasional need for assistance grew into a constant dependence. Moving from the bed to the couch was an epic journey that left him breathless and clinging to Alex for support. His skin, once smooth and supple, was now a road map of stretch marks and folds, each one a testament to his gluttonous triumphs.

And still, the food kept coming. The donations grew more frequent, the portions larger. His fans watched with morbid fascination as he consumed his way to new highs in weight, each update met with a deluge of praise and adoration.

Eventually, even the act of feeding himself grew too difficult. He'd sit, his stomach distended and heavy, as Alex spoon-fed him with the tenderness of a mother feeding a newborn. Jace's chewing was labored, his throat thick with the effort of swallowing. Each bite brought him closer to the edge of his endurance, his body begging for mercy that never came.

In the end, Jace lay in his bed, his breathing shallow and raspy. The world had shrunk to the size of his room, his movements limited to the gentle strokes of Alex's hand across his bloated stomach. He was a king on his throne of fat, ruling over his empire of emptiness and pain. His body had become an immovable object, a prison of his own making, a monument to his insatiable hunger for more.

The thought of his previous life, full of activity and social interaction, seemed like a distant memory. Now, his universe was measured in the size of his waistband, the number of donuts he could consume in one sitting, and the depth of the indentation his body left in the bed. His descent into obese hyper-immobility was complete. His only escape now was through the screens of his devices, his only company the echoes of his own breathing and the soft whispers of his devoted fans, who watched his every move with a mix of horror and fascination.

Alex's concern had morphed into something darker as Jace's body continued to grow. With each visit, he brought more food, more treats, more encouragement to consume. Initially, Jace had reveled in the attention, the validation of his new lifestyle. But as the months went by, he began to notice a shift in Alex's demeanor.

Alex's voice grew firmer, his touch more insistent as he guided Jace through his feeding sessions. "Come on, you can do it," he'd say, pushing another spoonful of mashed potatoes into Jace's mouth. "You're so close to your goal."

Their relationship had always been built on power and control, but now, it was tipping in a new direction. The gentle strokes of Alex's hand on his belly had become more aggressive, more possessive. And Jace found he liked it.

One night, as they lay on the bed, Jace's stomach bulging grotesquely, Alex grew more demanding than ever. "Eat," he'd say, his hand squeezing Jace's cheek, forcing his mouth open. "Eat for me."

Jace, lost in his own haze of gluttony, complied without protest. His stomach was a bottomless pit, and Alex was there to fill it, to push him further, to make him the biggest he could be.

But even in his oblivion, Jace's body had its limits. As he lay there, his breathing grew more strained, his stomach painfully distended from the mountain of food he'd just consumed. He could feel his heart racing, his chest tightening, and he knew he had to stop.

Alex saw the hesitation in Jace's eyes and took action. He slapped him—hard—across the face. "You don't get to decide when you're full," he spat. "You eat until I say you can stop."

The sharp sting brought Jace back to reality, his eyes watering from the force. He looked up at Alex, shocked and scared, but also... aroused? The slap was a wake-up call, a reminder of his place in this twisted dynamic. He was the one being fed, the one being controlled.

And so he ate, his body trembling from the force of the blow. Each bite was a silent declaration of his submission, his desire to please the man who had become his feeder and, in some ways, his master. The pain in his stomach grew, but so did his erection.

Alex watched with a mix of disgust and arousal, his own desires fuelling Jace's descent. He'd slap him again, harder, whenever Jace's hand faltered, his cheeks growing red and splotchy from the abuse.

The room grew thick with the smell of grease and sweat, the sounds of Jace's labored chewing and swallowing punctuated by the occasional grunt or whine of pain. His once-handsome face was now a mask of gluttony, his body a testament to excess.

The slaps grew more frequent, more forceful, until Jace could hardly keep his eyes open. He felt himself slipping into a food coma, his body weighing him down like a ton of bricks. But even as he lay there, on the brink of unconsciousness, Alex's hand was there, pushing more food into his mouth.

"Good boy," Alex murmured, his hand moving to Jace's bloated belly, giving it a rough pat. "Keep going."

Jace's body jerked at the sound, his eyes flickering open. He knew he was in trouble, that this wasn't healthy, but the thrill of the taboo kept him going. He ate and ate, his body stretching and straining under the weight of his obsession.

As the months turned into a year, and then two, Jace's condition grew more severe. He could no longer leave his bed without assistance, his body an immobile blob of fat. Alex had become not just his lover and feeder, but his caretaker, his life support system.

The slaps had become a daily ritual, a part of their feeding sessions that Jace had come to crave. Without them, he didn't feel the same rush, the same need to consume until he was sick. And Alex, for his part, had grown increasingly cruel, his slaps growing more painful with each passing day.

But still, Jace ate, his body now a twisted shell of what it once was. The only thing that brought him pleasure was the food, and the pain that Alex administered with each bite. His life had become a cycle of eating, pain, and sleep, punctuated by the occasional visit from his devoted fans.

And all the while, his body grew larger, his mind smaller. He was a creature of his own making, a monster that had swallowed him whole. The touch of soft, flabby skin was his only comfort, the feeling of Alex's hand on his cheek his only reassurance that he was still loved.

But as the slaps grew harder, the food more scarce, Jace began to realize that this wasn't love. This was obsession, a deadly dance that could only end one way. And as he stared into the mirror, his face lost in a sea of fat, he wondered if he'd ever find the strength to break free.

Jace lay on his back, his body a trembling, sweaty mess. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind a fog of pain and pleasure, as Alex loomed over him with a sadistic smile.

"Eat," Alex commanded, his hand clutching a greasy bag of fast food. "Eat everything. You know you want to."

And Jace did. His stomach was a cavern, an ever-gnawing void that craved to be filled. He reached out with trembling arms, his fat fingers grasping for the food that would push him closer to the edge.

Each bite was agony, his mouth too full, his jaw too tired to chew properly. Yet, the taste was ambrosia, a heavenly reward for his suffering. He felt himself slipping away, his body screaming for mercy, but he didn't care. This was his fate, the culmination of his desires.

Alex's hand came down hard on his cheek, the slap echoing through the room. "Keep going," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much of a glutton you really are."

The pain brought Jace back to the present, his eyes focusing on the man who had become his everything. He nodded, his mouth too full to speak, and stuffed another handful of food into his mouth. The pain grew, a constant throb in his head, his chest, his belly, but it was a sweet pain, a pain that meant he was still alive, still growing.

Alex's touch grew rougher, his caresses now cruel as he prodded and pinched Jace's swollen flesh. The slaps turned extra hard, each one sending a fresh wave of agony through his body. But Jace took it all, eagerly, greedily.

He knew this was wrong, that he should be afraid. But fear had been replaced by a strange, twisted acceptance. This was his life now, and he was going to live it to the fullest—no matter the cost.

With each slap, Jace felt his body swell, his stomach distending until it looked as if it would split open. His breaths grew shallower, his heart racing a frantic tattoo against his ribs. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.

The room grew dim, his vision swimming with the effort of keeping his eyes open. He felt his body give one final heave, his stomach convulsing around the food. And then, everything went quiet.

Jace's hand went limp, the half-eaten burger dropping to the floor with a wet thud. Alex leaned over him, his eyes wild with excitement. "You did it," he whispered. "You're the biggest you've ever been."

But Jace didn't hear him. He was somewhere else, floating in a sea of darkness. He knew, deep down, that this was the end. The culmination of his journey into obese hyper-immobility.

Yet, even as his life slipped away, there was no regret. Only the faintest twinge of satisfaction. He had become what he had always wanted to be: a living symbol of excess, a king of his own twisted desires.

As the darkness closed in, Jace's mind played back the moments that had led him here. The first time he'd felt the thrill of overeating, the first time he'd seen the look of awe on someone's face at his size, the first slap from Alex that had sent him over the edge.

And in the end, it was all worth it. His body was a monument to his perverse hunger, a testament to his commitment to the feeding fetish that had consumed him.

With one final, rattling exhale, Jace embraced his fate. His eyes closed, and his mind went quiet. The feeding had stopped, but his legacy lived on—a cautionary tale of what happens when one's desires grow too large to contain.

Alex sat back, his hand still clutching Jace's cold, lifeless wrist. He felt a pang of something akin to loss, but it was quickly swallowed by the thrill of his achievement. He had created a monster, and it had been beautiful.

He leaned over, his massive belly pressing into Jace's lifeless form, and whispered into his ear. "Thank you, my love," he murmured. "For letting me be part of your journey."

And with that, Alex stood, his eyes already searching for the next challenge, the next feeding session, the next soul to claim in the endless quest for more.