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one of my absolute top fantasies is being treated like an over-inflated balloon / lard ball 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫being rolled around, having my gut smacked and wobbled, being manhandled like a ginormous useless mountain of belching fat with no control or brain cells 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

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but you know what there is something really really fucking good about a person who’s put together and/or stoic and would never ever in a million goddamn years burp out loud around anyone

and their partner pressing into their stomach just the right way after a meal to force one out, just to hear it, while they sit there in a mix of turned on and wildly, wildly embarrassed

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been thinking a lot lately about threesomes in a stuffing context, particularly the concept of one person being fed and taken care of by two other people. person A leaning back against person B, who holds them and rubs their tummy while person C feeds them. B and C gently teasing A and talking to each other about them like they’re not there. “oh i think our baby needs to be burped” “they’re eating so well aren’t they” “their burps always get so big when they’re this full” etc etc. and A is just getting more and more stuffed and more and more turned on, but they know they have to finish eating before anyone will touch them properly

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INSANE for burps rn. I wanna be full and bloated and high w someone while we burp without a care in the world 🤤

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Dream scenario: I provide all the fast food and snacks you could want, you let me rub your stuffed gut while you let out big gross burps 🥰

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me beached on the couch in a pretty lingerie set.... u funneling beer down my throat jiggling and smacking my tummy boobs and thighs

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Showing the goods

My actual first somewhat decent animation I've made.

I'm also doing an YCH version for $80 if you'd like to see your own character here.

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it’s so fuckin awesome being a pathetic, subby feeder. like, it’s my job to make my partner’s life as easy as possible, and I’m so goddamn easy that they don’t even have to lift a finger to get me off. their shirt rolls up and I’m immediately, ridiculously distracted. they let out an accidental burp and I’m so turned on I’m dizzy. they tell me about what they ate for dinner and I come — embarassingly quickly, surprising us both — all over a toy, or their fingers, or (if I’m lucky) their tummy. and then, because I’m already all taken care of, I get to devote the rest of my energy to getting them off slow and deliberate and beautiful. this is the fucking life

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Yours

When I look up from my plate and your eyes are on me. My fork suddenly so heavy as I can't look away. The way the corner of your mouth raises as I take my bite and moan.

Your arm around my waist. Thumb sliding into my fold, fingers gripping my love handle. Using my own fat to pull me closer to you.

The strength of your legs as I lean into you. Belly too heavy to carry on my own. Your breath in my ear, teasing for how much I need you now. Making such a real pig of myself.

Yours.

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Had to let the sink carry the weight for a bit 🙈

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me & a stretch mark covered belly 🤝🤭🐷

✨DON’T share my content outside of tumblr.✨

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I love a put-together fat man with good street style. A leather watch wrapped around his chubby wrist, sausage fingers stacked with rings, maybe a chain or two decorating the collar of lard around his neck. Strong cologne that’s woody and addictive, so when I wear his shirts as nightgowns I’m bundled in his scent. Funky patterned button-ups straining across his stomach, layered textures hugging every curve. Hair in perfect waves, clean shaven, shoes polished. A walking (or waddling) thirst trap.

Until I get him home.

Until all that style is in a heap on my floor and he’s naked, flushed, and gasping for air between mouthfuls. Stuffing his face like he hasn’t eaten in days. Sauce on his chin, cream dribbling down the curve of his belly and settling into his rolls. Moaning through every greasy bite. His body jiggling with constant guttural belches he doesn’t even try to suppress. Rubbing his poor gut with cheese-dust covered fingers just so he can make room for more slop. Sweaty and sticky and gassy, a picture of pure hedonism.

God, I love a man who can do both.

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The view of you laying on your side is my favorite. The edge of your belly sagging off the couch. Your stretch mark riddled skin pulled taut doing everything it can to keep it close to you. You’re so lazy after that stuffing you just needed to lay down for a moment. Almost falling asleep. Strained breathing and occasional burps sending small but consistent ripples through your entire mid section. I’m on my knees on the floor facing it. Pressing my face into your crater of a belly button. Rubbing my hands all over to aid your digestion. To make room for more.

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Happiness is stored in the lard so get fat and happy you fat nerd

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It’s so hot thinking about being tied up and fattened up to obesity. You feel your stomach expanding wider and wider. You feel the fat piling on. You feel each pound making you heavier. You want to submit your weight completely to someone and give them full discretion to make you as round as they please. Someone shoving high calorie foods down your throat. They want to see you let go. They want to see you big. And you’re going to do that for them

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Pig Activities

(cw: feederism, soda chugging, burps, overstuffing)

You know those really big water bottles? The ones that are so unnecessarily capable of holding so many calories much liquid?

Your feeder fills one up for you, but the liquid... it's soda. Not the water you were expecting. You're demanded to finish the bottle before you can have any real food, and you are fucking starving.

Sure, chugging the soda as fast as possible may fix the problem... but then you would have to sit and let out burps while your stomach deflates back to its normal (albeit swollen) curve.

You decide to slowly sip at first, but it isn't enough. What is, really? You start chugging down, your gut jiggling with each hefted gulp.

You interrupt desperate swallows to let out the occasional belch, one hand keeping the bottle to your mouth and the other trying to support the steadily increasing weight of heavy liquid in your belly.

You feel like you've gained five pounds just from finishing the bottle, and yet, your feeder took note that you complained about your hunger.

That's right. You still need to eat, piggy.

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Recently came across your page and my god...you are the definition of gluttony. Dreaming of finding someone exactly like you -

What I wouldn't do to be beside you as you shove your face into a cake while on your hands and knees, your bloated gut swaying as it brushes against the ground. Lifting your icing-smeared face and panting for air while groaning about how full you are, you'd reach back to rub your stomach in a futile attempt to relieve discomfort. Unable to fully soothe the ache, you'd beg for help. I'd dutifully massage your stuffed middle, my fingers kneading the hardened blubber of your upper belly. Watching your hips sway in the air while listening to you moan, I'd apply a touch more pressure until a burp bubbles from your lips as you feel a flood of relief. Determined to help you grow as big you'd like, I gently nudge your head back towards the cake. You alternate between gasps of pleasure and whimpers of pain as you shovel more and more calories into your rapidly swelling belly, all while I continue to explore all of your voluptuous curves and rolls. As you pick your head up to catch your breath again - your stamina is depleted far quicker than it used to before you gave in to desire - you see a half gallon of whole milk in front of you. The condensation you see beading on the container must look very similar to the droplets of sweat you feel running down your back.

I lean down and whisper in your ear, "The night's just getting started. Show me what a good piggy looks like..."

hsudhsuehdyshwkzhshebdu brain. off.