elgragsinep

[elgragsinep]

Here goes some beautiful SSBBW with very nice and sexy bellies mother nature surely knows how to pick them.

[elgragsinep]

You didn't believe me when I said I would fatten you and leave you breathless.

You thought it would only be a few pounds, enough for your kinky little brain to feel and get off too.

How naive you were.

5 pounds became 15, then 30. You started to try and refuse the binges, 30 became 50 and you tried to hit the gym, 50 became 100 and you said that you'd had enough.

I would catch you in the fridge at the early hours of the morning, devouring anything you could.

That extra 100 soon became 200, then 250.

Your stomach started to sag, the stretchmarks where always red, you got out of breath just going to your room upstairs. So I moved you into the living room, closer to the kitchen.

I always enabled you and still do, you're my little lovable lard ball.

250 quickly became 350 and you cried.

520 pounds of quivering blubber wailing about how fat you had gotten. I brought you some icecream to calm you down.

Over the next three years I helped you climb up to 695 pounds. You could still walk but just barely.

At 700 you had me help you to bed, your new home.

725 was the day we hooked up your Oxygen machine. I remember it vividly because I took the hose from your face and kissed you, then said "I know, that kiss took my breath away too"

Today you're enormous at 877 pounds, you are never full, but thats the way I like my hogs.

[elgragsinep]

That belly won’t stop growing. How low is thing going to spill? How round it is going to get!?

[elgragsinep]

Pig and trough

[elgragsinep]

You both sigh as you pull up to a familiar house. That one family member that hosts every gathering because, well, they have the nicest house and enough room to host everyone. You had arrived a little late, so the driveway was full, unfortunately. You lamented that fact as you would now have to walk all that extra way from the curb. For most, this wouldn't be an issue. But you would have struggled enough hauling your massive figure from the driveway to the door, much less from the curb…

"...ready..?", they ask, twisting their head toward you and giving you a half-smile. From their tone and demeanor, you can only assume they're a little concerned for you. You had both managed to avoid every family gathering for the past two years, always claiming to be "busy". And it started that way! You had just moved in together and missed a few here and there as you got adjusted. 

"Ready as I'll ever be…", you say with another sigh, looking over towards the door. You were ready for the looks, the shocked faces, the refusal to acknowledge…well, the elephant in the room, as it were. Looking down at your body, completely filling the front seat, that saying wasn't too far off. 

You open your door, then shift and heave your body around to get out as your partner quickly gets out and around to help you. They take your hands and help heft you out of the vehicle. The feeling of your hips bumping the sides as you got out made you blush as you saw your partner, admiring how much space you take up, unable to resist grinning. Just months ago, you had found yourself completely unable to fit in a normal sized car anymore…much to your partner's chagrin, they decided to trade in their car for an SUV to accommodate your new size. 

Finally out of the car, you gathering yourself from the subtle erotic process that was getting out of the vehicle. You waddle your way to the house with your partner's help. It even flusters you knowing how much faster they'd probably be walking, were they not keeping with your lumbering pace. You reach the door and take a moment to catch your breath. You didn't want to be COMPLETELY breathless when your family saw…well, when they saw you for the first time in a while. 

You knock and then let the both of you in with a cheery "Hellooo?" You're met with a kind response from the left, the direction of the kitchen. "Hey! Come on in, we're in the kitchen!", you hear the familiar voice of your aunt call out. You shuffle through the entryway and to the kitchen, hearing the perfectly varnished wood floor creak under your immense weight. 

"Hi auntie!", you say with genuine glee as you see your aunt first among other family members. You open your doughy arms to embrace her, only now realizing just how small she seemed compared to you now. 

"O-Oh! Oh my gosh hi!", they say after a short second of hesitation. "We uh…we haven't seen you in so long! So glad you could be here!" Your aunt was always so kind, and you could rest assured that she wouldn't say anything about your weight. But you could tell how shocked she was. How she had to register the fact that you were more than twice the size you were the last time you saw her. 

You compose yourself, though your chubby cheeks turn a little red, and give a nervous chuckle. "Yeah it's been a while! Life just…gets so busy you know?", you say, adjusting your shirt to make sure it's appropriately covering your rolls. You look around and notice a few other relatives looking at you. You are the new person in the room… that could justify their eyes on you. This is what you tell yourself, but can't get the idea out of your mind that they're all thinking the same thing: "Oh my god…what happened to them?", or "Jeez…they REALLY let themselves go…", etc, etc. 

A slight rush of embarrassment washes over you as you smile nervously and look toward the central counter and all the pre-meal snacks laid out. Of course your eyes wandered to the food…it could easily be chalked up to a coincidence, but it felt like more than that, as your stomach growled. Apparently the bag of fast food you gobbled down on the way here did nothing to subdue your appetite.

"Well, I hope you're hungry!", a cousin of yours said, "we have plenty of food. Few of the others cancelled at the last minute so hopefully we'll have extra." Just as you were about to respond, you heard another relative address your partner. 

"Hey, how've you been! Haven't seen ya in forever! Where's your other half?", they ask, jokingly referencing you. You turn around, bumping your belly against the doorway, making your whole body jiggle. 

"Heh…right here!", you say, giving them a slight wave. Their eyes widen and they blush, themselves. It's clear the sudden rush of thoughts have them stunned. 

"Oh jeez, sorry about that! It's been so long, I hardly recognized you!", they said, shrugging. You had fantasized before about being unrecognizably obese. So huge that your friends and family didn't even know who you were at first glance. And here it was, a relative of yours that hadn't seen you since you started ballooning in size, literally telling you that they didn't recognize you. It's all you can do to keep from turning completely red.

You go about greeting other relatives, chatting among them. Your partner does the same, having met your family before and built their own relationships with them. But you don't even leave the kitchen. You can't even help yourself now, needing to be by the food. You absent-mindedly snack as you chat, not realizing that your piggish appetite is decimating the appetizer spread. You glance over to your partner, who grins at you before subtly gesturing to the counter with their eyes. The counter, once full of food, had basically nothing left on it. It couldn't be…you didn't really eat all that…did you? You wipe some crumbs from your mouth and stifle a small burp. 

Your aunt calls everyone to the kitchen, announcing that it was time for dinner. Dinner…the prospect of eating, even now, aroused more than just your hunger. But you couldn't be the first in line. Not after eating 90% of the appetizers. You waddle over to your partner, allowing others to begin getting food first. It comes to yours and your partner's turn, and they go ahead of you. But you see that they take a relatively small portion…they did this on purpose. They knew you wouldn't be able to help but take an obscene amount, and simply wanted to give a subtle nod to the difference between the two of you. Just as they figured, you load your plate full, with a particular focus on the heavy carbs. 

You shuffle to the table, finding that everyone sort of just sat wherever there was space, some even standing by the central counter. You pull the chair out, a good distance from the table, and sit. The cacophony of creaks from beneath your huge ass fills the room, and you nervously look up. Some relatives gave a worried look down at the chair beneath the table. You shared the sentiment…this damn chair felt and sounded like it would shatter any second! As carefully as you can, you scoot closer to the table until your double belly presses to the tableside. 

Your partner sits beside you and places a gentle hand on your thick, cellulite-covered thigh to comfort you. It was okay. They were here, they adored you, and you knew this was not only comfort, but encouragement. It felt freeing…why be so self conscious? You felt good this way. You loved being massively fat and eating as you pleased. These thoughts of reassurance allow you to start digging in to the mountain of food you piled up. 

Bite after bite, with at least a slight show of decorum so as not to look like the absolute hog that you are, you stuff your growing belly. The last few bites remain on your plate, you feel your gut stretched like crazy, pressing to the side of the table, the soft fat flowing on top of it. Your partner squeezes your thigh once more, and it's all you can do to avoid whimpering at their touch as you stuff down the last bites and lean back. You fought to keep your mind on trying to be respectful and polite for the moment, but the association between this feeling of being overfed and an undeniable pleasure was hardwired into you at this point. It was arousing to be this full, this self-indulgent, but you knew you had to keep it together for now. 

You rest your hands on top of your belly as it heaves up and down with each labored breath. Your eyes stay closed for a bit as you let out a heavy sigh, before hearing your partner's voice.

"Want me to see what's over there for dessert?", they ask in a pleasant tone. It would seem so normal to your family. The only thing to give anyone pause might be the fact of how much you just ate, but just a simple question after all! But you knew better. You weren't meant to give a yes or no. You were going to get dessert put in front of you. You nod and let out a soft groan as your partner gets up and takes your dishes.

Quickly returning with two bowls of cake and ice cream, your partner sets one down in front of you with a smile, taking the other for themself. You gaze down at the sweets-filled container and groan softly as you take up your utensil and begin to dig in. The first mouthful of seemingly pure sugar sends such a tingle throughout your body as you taste it. “Mmm…wow, that’s good…”, you moan softly, your eyes fluttering. “Did you make this Auntie?”, you ask, continuing to push spoonful after spoonful past your lips. 

Your aunt smiles, then nods, and you catch her taking a quick glance at your now distended belly as it practically ate the table’s edge. “I did! Baked it up this morning! I’m glad you like it so much!”, she says with sincerity. Before you even realized it, distracted by the short interaction, you had devoured the entire serving of dessert. You blushed as you went to get another spoonful, only for it to hit the empty bottom. You glanced over to your partner, noticing they were still working on their bowl. You could feel the tension. Every fiber of your being and theirs wanted that extra helping of dessert, so you could fill your greedy belly with more empty calories. But they simply give you a half smile and finish their small serving. It was playful, and you knew it. They were teasing you. In the back of your spoiled mind, you knew you’d be getting more after you left this gathering.

You both sit around for a while afterwards, conversing and letting your belly settle from the excessive amount of food you stuffed into yourself.  Relatives filtered out as the evening passed into early night, and, feeling like you could actually stand now, you decided it was time for you to go as well. Your chair creaks as you haul your obese, stuffed body up, then the floor creaks in turn as you shuffle around to say farewell to your remaining family. Now back to the SUV...the seemingly long trek for someone of your size, let alone how much you had eaten… But you make it, situate yourself into the passenger seat, and immediately recline back with a loud groan. Your already tight shirt rolls up, exposing your lower gut.

“Well that was an experience, to say the least…”, your partner says, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting up the vehicle. You could hear the satisfaction in their voice. “I have to admit, it was hard to resist you that whole time. Knowing that you’ve gotten so fucking fat that your family can’t even recognize you, knowing that you’ve gotten so insatiable that you can’t even stop yourself from pigging out in front of them…”, they teased before biting their lip and chuckling. They reach over, tenderly place a hand on your soft, swollen belly, and begin to rub it as they drive off. You let out a breathy whimper, then a moan. Feeling their hand on you after all this anticipation building, it was almost unbearable. 

“You did so good, baby. So, so good. I think you deserve a nice, big treat. What do you say?”, they ask. Another rhetorical question. You were getting more, one way or another. And you couldn’t wait to feel more fattening calories filling your belly again. No wonder you had gotten so obese in such a short time. You were enamored with this feeling of fattening up, pure indulgence, and hedonistic pleasure. And you knew, deep down, you couldn’t stop if you tried. It felt too good…

[elgragsinep]

I shouldn’t have to do this myself. Someone come do it for me 🥺

[elgragsinep]

Your phone dings, a notification popping up and lighting the screen. You lazily pry your eyes from the TV, glancing over to see the all-too-familiar delivery service logo on the message. Your food was approaching. Had it been 30 minutes already? As blissfully stoned as you were, you had gotten so enamored with the mindless streaming you were doing that time just seemed to fly by! But you know how much you love to see that logo pop up on your phone. You know how conditioned you’ve become to get that hit of dopamine at the promise of your cravings soon to be fulfilled. You almost expect your stomach to growl, as hungry as you feel. But it doesn’t…Then you recall how you raided the fridge and pantry just an hour before. You had consumed thousands of calories of your own food so recently, and then you got delivery? You realize you aren’t even particularly hungry. You just want to eat. You not only crave the sensation of tasting the delicious food you’ve ordered, but the euphoria of constantly eating and filling your body like the hedonistic pig you had turned into.

You let out a slight sigh, and let your hand wander to your overflowing belly, rubbing it softly in the anticipation of your next feast. How did this feel so good? The overwhelming pleasure you got at simply feeling your body, the amount that it had fattened up, a true testament to how much you let yourself indulge so freely. You felt like royalty. You got everything you wanted, when you wanted, and you hardly had to lift a finger to get any of it. It was utter bliss. Utter hedonism. And you smiled at this fact as you took another bong hit. Finally, another notification. Your food was at your door.

You shift from side to side, lifting yourself up with your slightly shaking arms, you heaving your softened, doughy body up and standing, all your fat shifting to hang from your body, now unsupported by the couch. You saunter over to your door, checking to make sure that no one was still at the door. How embarrassing it might be for the delivery person to see you in such a state. You were only in your underwear, after all. It was practically your only option any more if you wanted to relax comfortably. You were gaining weight so quickly, your clothes couldn’t keep up. It seemed that every piece of clothing you bought was getting tight just a month or two later. It almost made you curious to see how your jeans from 100lbs ago would fit. They probably wouldn’t even make it past your thighs now.

You get lost in these thoughts of how irreversably obese you’ve gotten and before you knew it, you had shuffled back to the couch and sat down, your hefty bag of takeout sitting beside you. And your thoughts are quickly replaced with pure excitement as you lean over to begin pulling containers from the bag. It was like opening gifts on Christmas morning, rifling through this bag. The first box feels the heaviest, and the smell of greasy, fried food wafts over you. NOW, your stomach rumbles. You open it and, with your hands, begin to stuff the calorie-rich loaded cheese fries in your face, hardly savoring the taste as you simply eat with ravenous abandon. But the savory, salty taste finds you anyway, and only drives you further into this gluttonous feasting you find yourself in. It was heavenly…bite after bite, you quickly empty the box. Hardly a dent in your appetite. You needed more. 

The next box, or rather two boxes, filled with perfectly deep-fried mozzarella sticks and assorted dips. It was always so amusing to see how they packaged these massive orders of yours. Multiple utensils included, multiple orders of the same things separated into individual boxes, all as if the restaurant expected this order to be for at least 3 people. But it was always just for you. All for you. You moan softly as you continue to feed yourself, licking your fingers with each bite, engrossed in what a greedy, obese fatass you were being. 

Another box down, then another. And another. You could feel your stomach stretching at this point, pushing into your lap further. If you weren’t so in love with what a massive appetite you had, it would almost be concerning how much you could pack away now. So many pounds of food now fit into your gut, a far contrast to your appetite even fifty pounds ago, which had already increased so much since you decided to let yourself fall into this lifestyle. You put a hand on your swollen belly and squeeze it, feeling the results of so long doing just this. You groan and keep stuffing your face, leaning back and placing one of your last boxes of food on your gut like a table. You’re obsessed by this feeling. Your hand wanders more over your body, grabbing, squeezing, wobbling all of the fattest parts of your body, thinking of how you had put on more than 150lbs in the pursuit of this intoxicating pleasure. You can’t help yourself. You push your heavy belly out of the way and spread your massive thighs, beginning to touch yourself as you eat. 

You breathe heavily, moaning between bites, turned on even more by the fact that your labored breathing is caused by both your arousal and the expenditure of such minimal effort to do something as basic as getting yourself off. Any average-sized person could do either or both without getting as winded as you do. You were such an out of shape pig, so overcome with heavy fat. It covered your body, hindered your movement, left you panting and winded when you did the simplest things, filled you out so much that you couldn’t fit on normal chairs without your hips and ass spilling over the edges. And practically any chair with arms was impossible to sit in. You even noticed that your body was beginning to get too wide for the double-seats at the hospital waiting room… But all of this, all it did was make you want more. More size. More food. More indulgence. More…

You were so full…you had eaten so much all day long, and the day before. And honestly, the day before that. No wonder you had grown so massively fat. Constantly eating left you in a state of constantly gaining weight, growing new stretch marks, accumulating more cellulite. It never stopped. You couldn’t stop. And acknowledging this pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, the familiar tingle spread across your body as you lay your head back and moan, grunt, and finally cum. Your body trembles, making all of your heavy fat wobble and jiggle, heightening the pleasure, especially feeling your belly slap your full thighs as you rock back and forth.

Exhausted, panting, body heaving up and down with each breath, takeout boxes scattered around you, each one completely empty, you can hardly gather your thoughts. A satisfied smile on your face, your body finally relaxes and you practically melt into the couch. You can feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness, from the exhaustion of getting yourself off, a food coma, or from being so stoned, you can’t tell. You don’t care. You were full, pleasured, and feeling like the most self-indulgent hog in the world. The least you could do is treat yourself to a nap, and wake up even bigger and wider as all the calories you just ate accumulated on your ever-growing body.

[elgragsinep]

There's no reason you shouldn't be 400 lbs at least once in your life. I don't want to be a bad influence, but if you never try it, you'll never know how it feels. Then you'll always be curious, and you don't want that. You've just fantasized about it so much for so long, and I don't want to see you deny yourself your biggest fantasy. You can always lose the weight afterwards. I'll even help you lose it, so don't worry. It'll feel so good to finally give in and let yourself go. Just spend a year at 400 lbs, see how it feels, and then you can slim back down. Before you know it, you'll be skinny again, and it'll just be a fun memory. Of course, you might not want to slim down. You might decide that you like how it feels, and that you like being constantly turned on by your soft, quivering rolls, and that you like being trapped in a massive, obese body, and that you like constantly indulging and being a glutton. But you can decide that for yourself once you're there. I don't want to be a bad influence.

[elgragsinep]

I just need this so badly, god it turns me on so badly dreaming of becoming this huge, it will happen

[elgragsinep]

You know you should be working, but the only thing you can think about is the feeling of your fat belly pressing tightly against your work blouse. "No, I need to focus," you tell yourself. You adjust in your chair, determined to get back to work, but instead you feel your pudgy rolls slide over each other, and your soft belly spill over your waistband, and you nearly moan out loud. You look down and see your round, protruding belly sitting on your lap, wide gaps forming in between the buttons on your blouse. You can't help yourself. You look around the office to make sure no one is looking, cautiously untuck your shirt, and slide your hand underneath, your cheeks starting to flush as you sink your hand into your soft belly. You knead your pudgy rolls in secret, feeling them sink in and bounce back underneath your fingers, so excited that you can barely breath, trying to act like nothing is wrong. But the excitement is unbearable. You need more. You get up, hurry to the bathroom, lock the door, and start furiously unbuttoning your blouse. You undo the last button, your hanging gut now spilling out unrestrained. You place one hand underneath and start to shake it's heft up and down, your entire body jiggling with each wave. The feeling is ecstatic. You didn't realize that getting fat would be so unbearably distracting. Each little feeling of your belly pressing against your clothes, spilling over your waistband, and jiggling when you walk, drives you crazy. You can't tune it out. It's like someone constantly teasing you, constantly reminding you of what you're doing to yourself. But you are so obsessed with your own body, such a glutton for your own fat, that you don't mind. You like being reminded.

[elgragsinep]

You waddle to your house, the short walk from your car to the front door has you huffing and puffing. On instinct, you turn your hips as you enter through the doorway. You aren't QUITE fat enough for it to be necessary, but you can feel yourself getting closer to that point with each passing day.

"Ah! Finally back home?", a voice calls from the kitchen. Despite the long day you've had, their soothing voice brings a smile to your face. 

"*Hff...hff*...yeah, FINALLY done with work today. It was such a-", you stop mid-sentence as the delicious smell of greasy, fried food fills your nostrils. Your feeder steps out of the kitchen holding a platter, stacked up with what you can only assume is fast food from all your favorite places. They set it down on the table and turn back to you, looking at the winded state that you're in, and grin. 

"Hard day? It must have been, seeing how exhausted you are...why don't you heave yourself over here, hm?", they say, leaning back on the table. You realize just how hungry you are, having been forced to go without eating for at least a couple hours...You set your things down and shuffle your way over to the table, already feeling your clothes pressed against your body. They had gotten so tight lately, and you just replaced your wardrobe maybe a month ago.

"I am...pretty hungry...", you say as you plop yourself down in the creaking chair. It had never sounded like it struggled THIS hard to hold you, but it really felt like it was straining this time as your ass overflowed the sides and your flabby belly kept you from fully sitting up to the table. 

"Aww, I know you are, my greedy little thing...", they say as they step behind you and place their hands on your sides, their fingers exploring every soft roll. They lean in and kiss right where your double chin meets your neck. "Just forget all about that tough day of yours, and fill this greedy belly for me", they whispered, reaching over to fondle your immense belly.

You can't resist anymore. You deserve this after the day you had, after all. You reach out with your chubby hands and grab handfuls of the heavy, greasy food, taking the first bite. The taste is so good...the feeling of finally getting to eat overwhelms you, eyelids fluttering as you're lost in the sensation. "Mmmph...god, that's good...", you moan as you begin stuffing your face.

"That's it, baby... So good and greedy, aren't you?", they tease, tracing their finger over your bulging belly before grabbing a handful of your double belly. "Look at you. Look at how much you've fattened up since I started doting on you. So many clothes outgrown, so much more space you're taking up, it's a good look on you, being such a piggy."

You knew it was true. Every bite you took only served to make you bigger, heavier, wider. Your feeder had seen to it that you grew so incredibly out of shape, so massively obese, that hardly anyone recognized you anymore. No one at work had said anything yet, but you knew they looked at you in disbelief. You even had to get your office chair replaced to accommodate your ever-growing size. And none of this was lost on you as you continued your gluttonous feasting. 

None of it felt like enough anymore. Your appetite has grown so much from the near-constant overeating that even when you're stuffed to the brim, swollen and pinned down by your own belly, you feel like you can always have a little more dessert. You ate, and ate, and ate, all the while, your feeder caressed and admired you, a marvel of self-indulgence. 

"Eat all the stress and worry away, love. There's plenty more where this came from. None of those pesky wrappers or boxes to get in the way," they said, biting their lip as they noticed just how much your belly was bulging under the table and between your thighs. They give your overflowing hip a firm smack before grabbing and jiggling it, making your whole body ripple like an ocean of fat. 

You're getting so full, feeling the pressure in your stomach as it stretches to hold all of the calorie-rich food you stuffed into it. Not to mention how unbearably tight your work clothes were on you at this point. The platter was almost empty, and even you were surprised when you took a second to realize just how much you had eaten. It was easily enough to feed 4 or 5 people, and NOW you're getting full?! You lean back, exhaling and placing your hands on the sides of your aching belly. It had gotten too big for you to fully reach the bottom of your belly hang.

"Hnnnh...I'm so full...and I feel so huge...", you groan as you take a look at your corpulent body. Just in time for your feeder's hand to grab your belly, their thumb in your belly button and their fingers curled under the lower roll. 

"I think...", they said as they leaned in to kiss your plump cheek, "...you just need to sit somewhere more comfortable. Come on, let's get your heavy self to the bed." They take your hands and help you to your feet, both of you feeling the struggle that was getting you off the chair. You feel your whole body wobble just from this simple movement, and you can feel the weight of your body pulling down on your frame. You groan from the fullness as your feeder helps you to the bedroom, helps you remove your extremely tight work clothes, and gets you onto the nice, soft bed. Then, they turn and leave the bedroom.

"Wait, where are you…*huff*...going..?", you pant, situating yourself on the soft mattress. 

"Oh I'll be right back! Just getting you dessert!", they call out from the hallway. It doesn't take them long to come back, holding what you easily recognize as a box of donuts from your favorite place. They crawl on top of the bed in front of you, nudging your cellulite-covered thighs apart as they sit themselves between them. 

"Just lay back and let me take care of this part. You don't need to lift a finger, my sweet pig...", they coo, taking a glistening, glazed donut from the box and leaning forward onto your mountain of a belly. You have hardly a moment to respond before the sugary ring is placed at your lips, your feeder smiling all the while. "Go on, I know you can't resist sweets...", they say. You open your mouth and let them push bite after bite past your lips.

One by one, each donut passes from the box to your lips. It was so much...you had eaten so much, but you couldn't help yourself. It was so easy for you to give in anymore. You didn't HAVE to care about holding back, especially not with your feeder around. They had been practically relentless, always having something delicious around to stuff your face with. 

"Unnnf...I can't…eat...another bite...", you whimper, laying your head back. Your swollen gut heaves with every shallow breath you take. You've gotten used to being stuffed lately, almost every single day. But never like this... You were in a hedonistic daze, fighting to stay conscious at this point, but you feel your feeder lean in, grab the sides of your chubby cheeks, and kiss you deeply. 

"Mmm...good, because you've eaten all we have, you perfect hog...", they say with a chuckle. "You know, I've grown pretty fond of keeping you stuffed, spoiled, and huge. I think you could really afford to quit that job of yours, hm? You don't need all that stress. Be my full-time house pig." Despite your current state, their offer rang in your ears. Becoming a full-time, spoiled, fat pig? Not a worry in the world...only eating, being adored, and growing fatter...it sounded so alluring...

"Yes...I don't want to work anymore... Just a spoiled and overfed pig...", you manage to moan. Even admitting it sent a shiver down your spine, bringing a smile to your face as you envisioned your life as a doted-on, prize fatty. 

"That's what I hoped you'd say... We'll put in your notice tomorrow. Now, lay back and start gaining all the weight from this binge, while I admire what a massive butterball you've become...", they moan as their hands explore every inch of your doughy body. A body that was only going to keep getting fatter, thicker, heavier. It felt so good...it felt so right. You could feel it. This is what you were meant to be. You slowly drift off into a food coma as your feeder kneads your body, in absolute bliss.

[elgragsinep]

There really is such a thin facade keeping feedists from being "it's just a kink, I don't watch what I eat and I let what happens happen" to that swirling down the drain type of feedism.

The conflict within is never easy, but it is eternally more manageable when it's one voice to battle, and not two. But pair up a shy piggy with a pretty intentful feeder and sometimes the lid blows off.

That weekly stuffing is now twice, even three times a week. A burgeoning intox kink leads to many countless calories being eaten without a second thought, thanks to all the weed and booze that trickles into a casual weekday. Being full takes on a new meaning when he is standing over her, a hand on her neck and a donut in the other. Signs of doubt that would usually arise are washed away by the propaganda. Your clothes are tight? Here are the next sizes up. You're feeling exhausted from a date with too much walking? Can't have that, we'll drop you off at the door more often.

A year passes, each day solidifying new, worse habits purely because of how hard you both cum when those habits show themselves on her waist. Each day, one step further away from the modest, in-control chubbette that began this journey. A year older, another 100lbs heavier, and normal takes on a new severity. She has forgotten how to say no, how to contextualize "fat" as "bad." He's no better, the control over her has him hooked, and it's hard to shake the thrill that comes from watching her grow weaker and fatter each month.

And the best part? Knowing that exists in so many of us. A little push is all that is needed to let loose the dramatic needs of a woman who secretly wants to opt out of living life normally and grow until her bed becomes more of a permanent home.

Any takers?

[elgragsinep]

Eat piggy eat....

Onlyfans.com/porkychubbie

[elgragsinep]

You always thought that you could keep your gain secret. That your soft, pudgy rolls would be something you could keep under control, hide in baggy clothes, and enjoy in private. "I'll stop at 20 lbs, and only stuff once a week. That way, no one will notice," you told yourself. But you got arrogant, and started stuffing yourself more and more often, and now you're looking in the mirror and realizing that you fucked up. No matter how much you adjust your baggiest clothes, your belly won't stop showing, and a new, pudgy double chin is framing your face. You look like a complete slob. You are hit with a wave of horror. "I didn't mean to gain this much!" you think to yourself. "I've always been so thin, athletic, and disciplined. I can't look like a fat girl!" The horror turns to embarrassment as you remember that you need to go to work tomorrow. Everybody is going to see your chubby face, your bulging belly, and your ill-fitting work clothes, when you've always been the fittest one in the office. How are you going to explain this? You turn to the side and notice, even in your baggiest sweatshirt, the outline of your protruding gut. You poke your finger into it, feeling it sink into your pudge, and watch it bounce back into place. "Maybe I'd better go get some bigger fat clothes," you admit quietly.

[elgragsinep]

Cowcake - before and after gaining over 200 lbs

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[elgragsinep]

When a feedee dips a toe into the deep end:

You've always had this feeling for as long as you can remember. You fought it, trying to live a 'normal' life so you could blend in with those around you. Yet, though you repress it, that feeling always comes back, stronger and stronger. But, for now, It's a fantasy for you, that's all. It's never going to be more than that, you tell yourself. Maybe you’re even convinced for a time that you'll never act on it beyond the few scattered sessions of self-pleasure you allow yourself. Yet nothing else ever feels as good as this feeling.

You didn't mean to gain weight that first time. For most of your life, you've managed an average weight. No one knows about your little secret, and only a few times do you slip up, stuffing yourself until it hurts to get that feeling you love. Yet the side effect of those binges shows up subtly on your figure. Clothes get a little tight, and you jiggle slightly more. Yet, it's not that noticeable, and you tell yourself you can lose the weight easily. Still, you spend hours grabbing at the new softness and admiring yourself in the mirror. You imagine what your body will look like with more. But that's just a fantasy. You're never going to let it get out of control.

It's hard to stop justifying these overindulgences. It feels too good to stop. You stuff yourself secretly in your room. No one can know about your secret. No one will understand. Yet as you allow yourself more of these moments that make you feel so good, the weight continues to climb. You've never been chubby before, but one day you look in the mirror and can't deny what you've let happen to yourself. Fifty pounds is a lot of weight to gain, but it's not the point of no return. You get scared of your fantasies, seeing themselves manifesting on your body. This wasn't supposed to get to this point, but you've let it happen. You react.

Dieting and working out to lose weight sucks. You push those tempting thoughts far away as you diligently work to get a body back that you think everyone would rather see. You're not sure if you're doing it for yourself or them, but you do it all the same. Being seen as a chubby girl wasn't something you were used to, and it was too foreign for you to live out. You don't want people to look at you and know indulging and growing turns you on. It's easier to run from judgment, so you do, and you lose weight. You turn your back on your feelings. You turn your back on your fetish.

For a while, maybe, after all the hard work, you maintain your normal weight again. You blend back in. You pretend you're 'normal', and the feeling you've had for as long as you remember can be shut out of your life and controlled. Yet pleasure never feels as good as it did back when you were stuffing yourself and growing. Nothing ever fills that void. No amount of vanilla sex sates your need. As much as you try to repress it, those feelings come back, this time stronger than before. They beg you to reconsider and indulge again. It felt so good the last time.. so why not? You slip up once, binge eating and greeting that familiar pleasure like an old friend. You allow yourself to fantasize again and stuff yourself a few more times. Bit by bit, your fetish takes over again.

The weight gain comes on much faster than before. It seems like returning to your peak weight happens twice as quickly as the last time. You're chubby again in the blink of an eye, but you don't stop at chubby this time. You keep going. You're enjoying yourself too much to care about the consequences. You still think you're in control and can stop this whenever you want. You push your limits more than the last time, trying new things that you were too timid to try before. All of your masturbation rituals start to involve food and gluttony.

When you cross 200 pounds, it startles you. You never thought you'd ever be this big. You never imagined you'd be fat. It was always a fantasy, but the reflection in the mirror doesn't lie. Yet, you can't help yourself. It feels too good to be this big. You don't want to admit it at the time, but you'll never be under 200 pounds again. While this should have been the point to turn back around, you keep going forward, wanting to try more. This fetish has made you greedy for pleasure and gluttonous for the feeling you've always had that attracts you to feedism. That feeling grows stronger.

You've never met up with a feeder before. You've talked with them online, sending them pictures of your belly and fatter body, but you've never taken the step of letting one into your life. Instead, you've intentionally avoided them, opting for more vanilla boyfriends and one-night stands. You know the consequences of meeting with one will incur irreversible damage to your widening figure, but you do it anyway. Whatever ambitions you've had for your growing body, the feeder wants more. They push you beyond the limits you'd previously hit, enabling your greedy habits and strongest desires. Your feeder openly discusses growing you to a size you've only fantasied about. However, it's naive of you to think that your new feeder's words don't have pure intentions behind them.

You let your feeder push you to 250 pounds. You feel huge. You never thought you'd be this big, but you've let yourself grow to a size you used to imagine being as you touched yourself 100 pounds ago. You and your feeder can't keep your hands off your softer body. The more space you take up, the better that feeling you've always had gets. Having so much fat on your body turns you on, making you horny from simple things like moving and walking. Every jiggle is foreplay, and every bite of food is practically heavy petting. Food and sex are now irreversibly wired as the same in your head.

Though you'd previously set lower weight limits for yourself, you let yourself cross 300 pounds. You've gone from fat to huge, new rolls, folds, and soft fat taking over and turning you into a complete fatass. Your friends and family are concerned that you've over doubled your weight. At first, they thought it was just relationship chub. Everyone goes through it. Yet, you kept growing, outgrowing the clothes you had once designated as your fat clothes. Though you share the worry of those around you, the complete and utter descent into hedonism is too powerful to turn your back on. Your feeder encourages the base feedee urges you used to repress before becoming fat. Though some would see your feeder as a bad influence, you know all he's doing is bringing out your true self for all to see.

Since you've let yourself get so fat, you can't hide it anymore. No more oversized sweatshirts can hide the fact that you're a full-fledged fatty. Fast food restaurant workers recognize you and your regular orders. People treat you differently than they did before, as if you lack the impulse control and willpower that they do. Sometimes you hear comments you weren't supposed to hear about your size, what you're wearing, and how out of shape you look. Though these comments are embarrassing to hear, you grow to like them. The more you listen to those teasing comments you weren't supposed to hear, the more you grow to love them. It's acknowledging what you've let yourself and your feeder do to your body. You know when people see you, the first thing they think is F-A-T. It's a new identity you're getting more and more used to. An identity you used to run away from but now feel helpless and too far gone to turn back from. You ask your feeder to tease you more when he's feeding you, reminding you of what you used to be and what you are now. You want your feeder to point out every roll, fold, and bulge of fat on your body and call you names as he feeds and fucks you. Nothing makes you cum harder.

Your eyes betray your words when you tell your feeder you don't want to get any bigger. It's not the truth, but you feel like it's what you need to say. You've already gotten bigger than you ever thought you'd get. Maybe it's time to slow down. However, actions speak louder than words, and you find yourself doubling down on the habits you thought you'd tone down. Once again, trying to repress them only makes them come on stronger. You try to be sneaky, raiding the fridge late at night, driving to get fast food without telling your feeder, having a secret stash of junk food in your top drawer. But your feeder catches on to what you've been doing, and you know he will not stop you. You've shown him that you've completely lost control, and you're never going back. That line you've drawn in the sand around your weight limit gets erased and drawn again further up the scale.

You're not quite sure when it happened, but you crossed into the SSBBW threshold. Instead of fretting when the scale told you that you crossed over 400 pounds, your feeder rewarded you with a celebratory cake. You'd never felt hotter in your entire life. You've gotten faster at eating and can take so much more food in one sitting. You love leaning into the gluttony, abandoning the civility of eating with manors. It's everything you can do to coax your feeder into calling you by your favorite teasing name. Piggy. You're not sure why that word makes you so wet when he calls you that, but it feels so right.

Though the person looking at you in the mirror is hardly recognizable, it's you. You've let yourself turn into a complete tub of lard. Though you never in a million years thought those playful little feedee fantasies you had when you were skinnier would become a reality.. they did. Yet, you're so glad they did. Your life has turned into a life of insurmountable pleasure and excess. Sex and food are the pillars of your reality. Your feeder has no plans to let you stop being the feedee pig you've turned into. It turns you on that everyone else can finally see that this is the true person you've always been underneath all along. All because you dipped that first toe in the deep end and flirted with this fetish.

This horny text is dedicated to a friend and beautiful person in the feedism community. For C.

[elgragsinep]

"Almost there," Sweetie says. Her belly is throbbing and the heat is burning between her giant thighs. One more swallow and gluttony turns to ecstasy… (sweetsouthernfeedee.tumblr)