Cedar Waxwings

A short-cut to chubbiness

*gulp*

I think I drank … a little too much of that stuff …

I recently got in touch with a new kinky world. There are various names for it. “Growth”, “Gain Train”, “Skinny to Chubby”, “Weight Gain”, “Belly Growth”, “Bulking up”, you name it.

To be honest, there once was a time when I was really grossed out by overweight people. I was very convinced that having a too high BMI was unhealthy and most people who suffered from obesity had nobody to blame but themselves. That’s just how I was raised.

Despite having come to more moderate views on this, eating healthy, doing lots of sport, avoiding junk food I spent much effort into keeping my weight around 80kg and being able to fit into my skinny jeans and - most importantly - my skintight rubber catsuits. Some people accused me of vanity, but I could live with that.

It might seem so much the stranger that the only thing I felt when being confronted with that new kink was fascination. I always liked transformation stuff and when I first saw before-and-after-pics of weight gainers, it hit me like a fat, heavy truck and pushed all my buttons at once. I couldn’t stop looking for more of these pics, feeling disgust and arousal at the same time, getting more curious for that kinky realm with every transformation story about it I read. It became one of those things for me where you pleasure yourself watching something and afterwards feel ashamed and ask yourself: „What the f**k did I just f*p to?“, because when my mind was cleansed of the uncontrollable horniness, I always looked at the pics of fat guys as I did before, mainly filled with disgust.

But after some time, when my body had prepared another load and I looked for some inspiration online again, I couldn’t help but end up with gainer transformations every time. Even if I absolutely tried to stick with hot, muscular hunks or skinny twinks, I would always deter from my path and come back to stories and fantasies where exactly these guys were robbed of their athletic bodies and turned into mountains of fat.

It kept arousing me more and more each time. Almost as if inside my skinny body there was a heavy guy hidden, hoping to get out, and every time I looked at these pics and stories, I fed him, made him grow bigger and stronger. And soon I was fighting with the thought of actually becoming a weight gainer, too.

The problem is … you see, I still love my life. My slim body, my slowly but surely appearing abs, the young look my face has, my happy relationship, the compliments from my friends, the praise from my followers … I can’t give that up and become a fat slob! Certainly not! The healthy, slim, athletic me is still my real me, the stronger one, and he will remain in control! But I also want to satisfy the desires of that other guy in me.

So I dug deep into the web and found that drink that promised instant weight gain - a temporary one, that is! “Drink 10ml, gain 1kg of body fat!”, the label promised. The effect would last for six hours. After five hours and 50 minutes, the substance would cause a heavy need to visit the bathroom. There you would … well … shit out the additional weight like water in the remaining time.

Of course I was cautious with that. On my first session - of course I always did this when being alone at home the whole duration of the effect - I only drank 20ml. I also had to wear a rubber catsuit while doing this, to maximise the horniness. It had little effect, just visible on the scale. After testing if it all worked properly, I added 5kg, and now I could really see something: The love handles I fought so long against had been come back and I somehow really liked it! The circumference of my arms and legs grew only slightly and my butt became a little bit bigger. But I was also very happy when I was back to normal after six hours, able to enjoy my natural, slim body. The next time, I added 10kg to my mass. Going back all the way I went in the last years with so much effort, and that in mere seconds, back to my old, bigger me. The memory hurt, but that only made me horny. Seeing all the hard work destroyed triggered my auto-sadism-kink. Now, that’s a belly! I really had trouble to stuff my body into my rubber suit, so the next time I planned to put it on before drinking the liquid so I would be able to get in without help.

200ml drunk, 20kg added. It felt wonderful feeling the skintight rubber stretch over my expanding arms and legs, my inflating belly, my thickening neck, my bubbly butt. Calmness and a relaxing satisfaction came over me. The suit was so tight that I felt stuck in it. Feeling comfy and a nice kind of lazy, I spent all the six hours on the couch, watching comedies while stroking my inflated, rubbery body.

Naturally, I made a selfie for my secret weight gainer friends to enjoy. After all, they should see that they got another skinny stick to rethink and come to the delicious side. All those fat asses should see how I was getting chubbier and chubbier just for them. The approval from them and the kinky texts they’d send me gave me an even stronger kick. I really enjoyed all the attention I got and the thrill of living in two worlds. Some of the rubber chubbers who shared my fantasies even became close internet friends to me I held very dear.

For today, I planned to go further than ever. I wanted to drink 300ml, going from 80kg to 110kg. My next step in finding the perfect weight for me to grow to in my me-time. Judging by how I felt next time, this would be it. I would certainly be unable to put off my suit, moving would be much harder, doing sports unthinkable. I imagined the round belly I would have and like in a haze, I started drinking. Without noticing it, I chugged down the whole bottle of 500ml…

*gulp*

I think I drank … a little too much of that stuff … my body is inflating … my belly becoming round like a giant pumpkin … my arms and legs become thick, flabby stems, stuck in tight rubber like sausages … my ass looks like two watermelons pressed in way too tight pants, round and shiny … and I feel heavy … so heavy … and lazy … this was definitely too much … or … was it just the right amount? I have to check myself out in the mirror … yes, this … this is it. I thought it was too much, but I was wrong. This is perfect. I will stick with that amount.

Just look at my gorgeous body! I think I’ve reached my absolute limit. 130kg of pure, chubby mass, almost half of it being fat! I don’t think I will ever get any further. This feels perfect, and it’s all the better that I have to drink exactly one bottle to get this! I love the way too tight rubber squeaking and stretching whenever I move. Even the slightest movement makes it feel like it’s about to tear apart, burst into shreds by my mighty ass and guts! But it won’t. After all, I won’t move too much in this state anyway.

Yeah, this is perfect. That calmness, that laziness is getting me. This guy won’t ever go on a run! No, that’s my other me. This me is moving it’s heavy body to the living room. Ten meters and I already feel tired. Heavily panting, I fall down onto the couch. Setting my alarm to 5 hours from now just to be sure, I turn on the TV and grab a bag of chips. Stroking my fat belly, my hand wanders down to my thighs, looking for my bulge that almost completely disappeared under all that rubbered fat. I grab it. I knead it. My other hand continues caressing every inch of my huge belly that looks like a big rubber balloon. So nice. So tight. So round. So perfect. I love it.

It’s time to enjoy that state while it lasts! Maybe I should even make a video for my dear fellow rubber chubbers …