It starts simple enough.
Your gut gets in the way of seeing your cock. You suck it in, there it is, no biggie.
You don’t know when it happened, but there comes a time when you try to suck it in and no matter how you try and shift it, your cock can’t be seen. You can still a peek of it in the mirror and you can reach down to feel. The fat pad encroaching on it is worrisome but you’ll go on that diet tomorrow.
You get used to working around your gut and that slow creep of your fat pad doesn’t happen fast enough to worry you. Your new normal becomes an awkward positioning of your body to reach your cock and it’s ordinary now to work it out of the cave it’s been digging itself into.
Except the day that try as you might, you can’t reach it. You fumble around your massive gut and knock around your now womanly fat tits, but any hope of reaching it is gone. You mourn it by eating more, despite that only exasperates the situation.
Your partner keeps you updated on your long lost cock, that even when you’re rock hard, it fails to escape its doughy prison. From then on it’s not how many inches lost, but how many inches submerged your cock is.
As you lay there in bed, feebly rocking your hips to try and fuck your own fat pad as your feeder makes your after lunch snack, you realize how outrageous and obscene your new normal is.
But it fades as your feeder brings in your food and you hurriedly ask to be brought to climax. They agree, but only if you eat your proper fill.
Like a good, fat sow.