Quarantine Since a lot of interest was expressed in the pol..

Quarantine Since a lot of interest was expressed in the poll, thought I’d pilot a bit of gainer fiction. Though this one is almost autobiographical, so not exactly fiction at all. If you guys like it, I’ll do more. In March 2020, Covid-19 hit. For such a dark time, I thought it might be fun to share what it was like being a sub gainer living with a Dom feeder through all of that — both of us honestly still pretty new to gaining at that time. In February 2020, I weighed about 370lbs. Kind of small (for me). My partner and I had just started getting me to actively gain. I had gained passively, but the force feeding and gorging didn’t start until like, December 2019. When quarantine started, my feeder husband and I locked ourselves inside like most of the world did. It was quickly established that high-risk people needed to stay inside, and my husband and I agreed that I was high-risk. He said he’d take care of everything, and he really did. I was working from home, sitting in bed with a lap tray that went over my belly and hips. It was a tight squeeze, kind of, and once I was situated, I wasn’t moving. He would make himself things like chicken breast and quinoa, and would make me things like Mac-n-cheese, burgers, and pasta. I think I was likely eating 7 or 8 times a day. He said he just liked cooking, and it was something to do. He’d say things like, “plus, it’s going to make you even sexier!” After the first month, I no longer fit in the lap tray, and it would get stuck around my hips/ass if I tried. That’s when he let LOOSE. He ordered our first funnel, tons of Boost, and lots of cake mixes, butter, cream, etc. He also got more and more adamant that I stay in bed and let him do all the housework and errands. As I got fatter and fatter, he got more and more sadistic and Dom. I’m a sub. I’m into it. I loved it actually. He would sit on my belly and shove pizza in my mouth, or funnel homemade gainer shakes into me until I felt like I would pop. By December 2020, I had gone from 380 to 475. On top of that, I hadn’t really moved more than getting up to go to the couch or to the restroom in almost a year. There were a few days here and there where I had to go do something, but for the most part, my legs got like no exercise. I’ve always bragged about how strong my legs are, because they have to carry so much weight. But then my mobility declined significantly. I suddenly had that superchub waddle, because I had stored so much fat and my legs never had the chance to adapt to the increased lard-load like they usually would have. I was sweating, jiggling, and out of breath from going to get the mail and it was SO hot. I didn’t realize how quickly immobility can sneak up on someone if they aren’t paying attention. If I had stayed in bed nonstop and kept getting stuffed like I was, I would definitely be immobile already. I had to go into the office not long after to pick up my things. My coworkers and boss saw me for the first time, huffing and puffing and pouring sweat from the walk from the parking lot to my office. My work shirt incapable of hiding my belly from peeking out at the bottom. I tried to sit in my office chair, and my ass no longer fit in it. Now it’s the end of 2021, and I’m over a quarter ton and force fed daily. I’m still working from home, and my legs are still not caught up to how heavy I am. Someone said that there might be another quarantine period with the omicron variant, and he’s already drafting up what my new meal and activity plan will be if so.