If You're On Testosterone, You Should Never Feel Bad For Eating As Much As You Need (or Want). T Hunger

If you're on testosterone, you should never feel bad for eating as much as you need (or want). T hunger is literally something else, it's crazy. I understand. I'm not gonna shame you for having second or third helpings. Don't you feel strong, being able to put away so much food like it's nothing? Your new body needs it - I'm proud of you for finally listening to it.

There's still time to gain 40 pounds before the end of the year if you start now. Plus, you can blame it on sweater season and holiday treats the further we go, if you need an excuse that is.

mmm I’ve loved watching you blow up knowing that once I close my phone it has zero impact on my life but so much on yours. Walking around with that round tummy sticking out, those pillowy thighs jiggling with every step. When you look in the mirror, when you sit down, when you do anything, it’s always there, the proof of what a gluttonous hog you’ve let yourself become, all to entertain some strangers on the internet.

I was just thinking about this. It’s the difference between feeders and feedees: you can put your phone down and go live your life, but this is my life. We both get off on it but only I carry it with me wherever I go. The consequences are heavy and constant, but that’s never been enough to stop me from stuffing my face at night, no matter how embarrassed I am by what it does to me.

The "I eat what I want and I don't care if it makes me fatter" to "I eat what I want and I like that it makes me fatter" pipeline

fat alternative culture is having more surface area for patches on your clothes

fat alternative culture is

The thing about gaining is that it makes everything erotic. Of course the obvious—eating, walking, showering, getting dressed. All of that is turned up in heat until it's unbearably arousing, but that's just the surface. But try, say... washing the dishes, with your new belly dragging down, bumping against the edge of the bench or resting on top of it, wobbling freely as you try to just simply scrub a pot without losing your mind. Or getting a new drivers license photo, and feeling your hips and ass squeeze through the arms of the chair as you sit down to wait, wondering if the flustered blush across your fat new face will show up in the photo. Having a weight gain kink and choosing to go through with it turns your whole life, every minute of it, into erotica. The most innocent tasks become lascivious, the mundane becomes provocative, and your modest, unassuming body begins to strain with eroticism—permanently.