f3t-lsh - Tumblr blog

[f3t-lsh]

“no more. please— urp. i can’t.” i stifle between bites, managing out a pathetic little burp. my jaw still works, instinctively chewing any and all morsels of food that pass through my lips. i may manage to weakly turn my head here and there, but the resistance is pathetic. she knows it. i know it. in the end, i’ll always be an obedient little piggy dutifully chewing whatever waste is thrust into my mouth. but this time? this time it hurts. really, really hurts. this is the farthest she’s ever pushed me past my limits and then some.

my stomach is utterly massive. stuffed to the brim, and even that’s an understatement. it’s packed like an oil drum. it’s stretched out and sits on my knees now, a crushing, bulbous weight that no longer even makes sloshing & gurgling sounds indicative of digestion. every possible square inch has been packed with the food that she’s managed to cram down my throat.

i remember it being flat this morning. i remember being able to glance down at it as she tied my arms back in this chair.

my girlfriend studies me, studies her work thus far. she has no intention of stopping, truthfully, and we both know that. there’s still plenty of food to go through that she went through the trouble of making. but the size and state of my gut draws concern. she likes to be able to squeeze and knead handfuls of it. she loves the sloshiness of it when engorged. it’s music to her ears.

“let me try something, baby.” she coos, setting down the plate of gooey nutella stuffed brownies we’d been working through. i would sigh in relief, but everything is stuffed so tight it hurts to breath. i manage to swallow down whatever’s left in my mouth so that way my cheeks aren’t comically stuffed like a squirrel’s. i try to crane down and see what she’s going to do, but my swollen tits — near bursting out of the bra which fit perfectly this morning — block the way.

i feel what she’s doing, rather than see her. her fingers lightly dance over the surface of my skin, as though inspecting a snare drum. her index finger tentatively circles around my sensitive navel — nearly ready to pop into an outie — before she lays a whole flat palm against it. she strokes and soothes random aches and pains here or there. she must have some kind of magic touch to know where exactly it aches most.

then, without warning, she presses down. hard.

frrrrrrrrrrrrt. a long winded, high pitched fart blasts from behind. seconds later, as i open my mouth to gasp in relief from the amount of packed gas forced out, another escapes. BRAAAAAP. the belch is less subtle, less elegant sounding. it doesn’t matter. the packed air is leaving. back and forth this continues. loud, noxious farts and hearty, magnificent burps. i nearly roll my eyes back in euphoria.

“there we go.” my girlfriend smiles like the cat that’s caught the cream. mmmm. cream. i suddenly remember a container of that sitting on the table somewhere. she rubs my belly, feeling it go down ever so slightly. not enough to setback any hard earned progress of course. but enough to where the sloshiness and gurgling sounds return.

she gives it a playful, light slap. another fart, quick and tiny compared to the symphony from moments before, squeaks by. everything is still tightly packed. it’s still an effort to breathe. but i smile dumbly at her like a baby that’s been properly burped after all the whining and crying.

“let’s get the rest of that air out of you,” she rubs my bloated belly so lovingly. “so that i can fill up the empty spaces when i’m done. sound good?”

all i do is nod like the dumb little pig that i am.

[f3t-lsh]

consider: your fave is extremely bloated and gassy after a party. they come home and immediately take off their belt and unbutton their jeans. their heavy, round belly spills out and the abrupt freedom dislodges an enormous belch from their gut, making them pant and rest against the door. they burp again, longer this time, and their gas is so forceful some spittle sprays from their lips - but it feels too good for them to care much. "God, I was holding that in for so long," they groan quietly, patting their belly with a few slaps. they stand there for a while, their tummy hanging out of their jeans as they coax up a few more burps, trying to catch their breath and finally move further into their house 🥴

[f3t-lsh]

Thinking about a vampire draining someone dry, filling themself so full that their stomach is bulging and all they can do is go lie down and rest for a while after.

[f3t-lsh]

your fat, lazy pig

cw: nsfw, eructophilia, eproctophilia, immobility, slob, male feedee, piss (last few sentences)

this is pure self indulgent fa trash and excessive descriptions of sum Big Tumby™ please enjoy

• • •

You truly love everything about your fat, lazy pig. You’ve grown his belly so big and round that it bursts out of all of his clothing, destroying buttons, bulging through torn seams and jiggling with even the slightest movement. His pant button pops, and the strain of his burgeoning gut against the zipper forces it down without him even having to touch it, allowing his stomach to spill forward onto his lap.

He always has food nearby, and has done away with manners inside the house. You absolutely love hearing the results of his gluttony, love hearing him shamelessly belch and fart to make room to be able to continue eating, love hearing his stuffed stomach groan in distress at the sheer quantity he manages to cram inside it. When he sits down his ample gut takes up his entire lap, sinking between his doughy thighs to rest heavily on the seat underneath. The size of his stomach forces him back in his seat, rounding out into a huge, distended dome, the top of it so taut full of food all the time that it pushes his swollen breasts sideways. He’s too obese to sit and eat at tables anymore, so instead he rests bowls and platters on the jutting shelf of his gut. He doesn’t mind. He says it’s better that he doesn’t have to reach so far, his arms don’t get tired as quickly.

On the lessening occasions that he walks, his corpulent belly sways and bounces with every waddling step he takes, slapping rhythmically against his blubbery thighs. You can’t resist the temptation the sight rouses, groping and jiggling it in your arms, because that’s how much of it there is; armfuls of fat, undulating lard that ripples endlessly when you smack it, rolls atop rolls of soft, hefty body. Your humungous pig pants and complains until you let him sit down again, groaning tiredly and having to support himself with a hand as he lowers himself. The force of his weight impacting on the seat below him causes his whole body to wobble alarmingly like a heap of quivering jelly.

As of recently, he stopped being able to see over his gut after you’ve sat him down and stuffed him to his limit. It’s a milestone you’re both very pleased about him reaching. To celebrate, you invite likeminded people over to admire and assist, because it’s simply better when there are multiple people pushing endless amounts of food into his mouth from every angle, lovingly rubbing thick belches out of his gut, slapping his expanded belly and watching it tremble and surge outwards as his clothes give out. It’s what he deserves, all the calories and praise he could wish for.

Watching him struggle to get up from sitting down is probably one of your favourite pastimes, the way he swings his flabby arms to gain momentum, sending his bingo wings swinging madly is a sight to behold. Well, maybe it’s your favourite pastime after seeing him try to get up in the morning. It’s remarkable, how long it takes him to roll his fat ass out of bed, his gelatinous stomach pooling out in front of him when he’s lying on his side, sloshing and rippling like a big water balloon. Of course, he can’t help but rip long, sloppy farts as he tries to stand, just as he does when doing anything even slightly strenuous. At first, he was embarrassed by his uncontrollable flatulence. Now, he pats his stomach with a pleased smile and proudly announces that he feels hungry again.

For a while now, he’s found it hard to lie on his back, his immense weight suffocating him. But sometimes, it’s all he can do after a particularly hedonistic day of gorging himself far past the point of excess. When he does, he’s nothing more than a mountain of fat. Helplessly splayed out and unable to move, completely overfed and incoherent. His rotund gut rises up high, sloping roundly even with gravity working against it. It’s on days like these when he shamelessly eats too much that he finds himself profusely aroused by his own lack of control. But there’s no way he could ever hope to reach around his absurd belly to his dick should he want to relieve himself. Even if he could, his body is encased in so much blubber that even lying flat his gut still spills between his thighs and over his sizeable hips, completely obstructing his crotch.

So, you’ll let him struggle and whine for help, coo teasingly as his pudgy cheeks turn red and he grunts with effort, trying to no avail to rock his mountainous stomach from side to side just to be able to reach himself. When he gives up, sweating and out of breath, you finally give him a hand. His lower belly is plump and heavy, and pushing it out the way is no easy feat. When you manage, his poor, useless cock underneath is already so hard it’s leaking precum, pink and throbbing from being rubbed all day between his thick thigh rolls. Even fully erect, only the the tip of his weeping cock is peaking out cutely from his pillowy fat pad. You tease him, fucking your fingers into his sensitive fat pad alongside his cock, admiring how soft and pliant he is. Taunting him for his obscene overindulgence, praising him for being such a fat, insatiable glutton. He loves all of it, you know he does. Most of all, he loves when you grab a handful of his full belly and shake it, sending his lard rolling decadently and disturbing the trapped gas inside, forcing deep, gurgling burps out of him. You can’t see his face over the crest of his stomach, but you can tell he’s close by the way he gasps exhaustedly, gut quaking and heaving with every strained breath and moan he puffs out. He doesn’t last long with your enticement, and you stare in awe at the way every inch of his obese body wobbles when he comes with a gasp, a cascade of jiggling adipose that doesn’t stop even after he’s spent and lax. Overcome by exhaustion and fullness, he lets you clean him up as he catches his breath. He’s normally asleep by the time you finish, tired from doing nothing but eating all day.

Obviously, there are times when you need to leave the house. He doesn’t love it because he’s started having a hard time getting around without help. However, you leave him with plenty of food to keep him satiated, and that silences any complaints he has. On those days, it’s easy for him to get so lost in the food on his own that he eats himself into a complete stupor in bed, on the couch or on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge. Take today, for example, you watch him on the house cameras you’d both agreed to install in the case that you were out and he got into any trouble due to his increasingly limited mobility. You can see that he’s planted himself on the reinforced bench made just for him in the kitchen, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be moving. You’re enraptured at the sight of him on your phone, unable to look away as you watch him eat so much that he physically can’t move, totally beached and burping piggishly, groaning in pleasure as he caresses his straining stomach and appreciates his immense size. While he gorges, he attempts to fuck his own underbelly and fat pad, weakly pressing down on his overfilled gut and twitching his hips until he climaxes, the strain of his orgasm forcing gas noisily out from both ends. He tries to get up from wherever he’s slumped, struggling helplessly to lift his bloated body and get himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after drinking litres and litres of fizzy drinks throughout the day. But however hard he tries he’s just too fat, too heavy to support his own weight, pinned down by his ballooned belly. In the end, he gives up and starts to squirm, wincing and trying to hold it in for as long as he can. But in the haze of a food coma and post orgasm drowsiness, he lets go and pisses himself where he’s sitting, hot liquid pouring down his legs and splattering on the floor. With a desperate moan he hefts his overflowing gut upwards, attempting to angle his fat-encased dick just to piss over himself. A literal pig, stuffed stupid and covered in his own mess, completely glutted out and too fat to move an inch.

[f3t-lsh]

i think one of my favourite stuffing scenarios is the aftermath of a massive gluttonous feast. like

when someone has stuffed themselves so completely they can only belch and moan, leaning back in their chair(s) because their gut is so bloated full of food that it physically pushes them back. their thick lower belly is hanging low and spreading their doughy thighs apart, resting heavily on a plump fat pad. the crest of their belly is so round and taut that its almost a perfect shelf for their ample, growing breasts. and you KNOW they’re totally stuffed to the brim because they can’t stop hiccuping shallowly, burps pouring out of them with every other breath because there’s just no room at all in their overstuffed gut

[f3t-lsh]

None of my clothes fit me anymore and idk why

[f3t-lsh]

There are times where I just wanna be teased by a bhm, just having chemistry and being reminded on how I am a pretty little thing that can be crushed by his weight, him telling me how he can easily pin me against a wall with his big belly and smother me with his plump moobs, picking me up like I weigh nothing and sitting on top of his belly.

But I also wanna feed him and his ravenous belly while in lingerie that accentuates my curves, pressing my abdomen against his distended gut, feeding him that last bite and locking lips as a reward for finishing everything, getting to taste everything I fed him and sinking my hand on his fat and overfed belly, making him moan and getting the control right back at my delicate hands, making him whimper and moan with rubs and subtle caresses on his stuffed belly 🖤

[f3t-lsh]

got encouraged to chug a shake after dessert so here’s one of the clips from that 👀 got me painfully full oughhh

[f3t-lsh]

cheeky chug n belly play while i wait for the rest of my dinner to cook 🤤

[f3t-lsh]

Stuffed and swollen at work. I feel like such a pig. 🐽

[f3t-lsh]

Topping off a full belly with 32oz of gainer shake. I might have overdone it, I can already feel it expanding, stretching my poor belly uncomfortably tight and making it hard to breathe - and I love it. Gluttony just feels so good.

[f3t-lsh]

Distended Belly Wash after a Huge Feed

[f3t-lsh]

Please

I’m still so fucking hungry

[f3t-lsh]

Ugh I've lost count of how many nights in a row I went to bed with my doughball belly completely stuffed to the brim with the most fattening junk food.. and yet I can't stop 😳 I need so much more 🐷

Even after I'm done eating my gut continues to expand trying to digest all those empty calories, turning me into a round burpy mess 🙈

More on of 🫃🏻

[f3t-lsh]

Hello to the vampires out there, you are permitted to bite me and have a drink any time you like but you MUST be horny about it. If you're not gonna make it erotic, this blood ain't for you 🚫🩸🚫

[f3t-lsh]

need like 5 more cans and 3 meals behind this burp it sounds so weak and malnourished 😈🤰🏼

[f3t-lsh]

Lots of burps after eating a bit too much.