You ate half an hour ago, you're far from hungry. But you know your feeder will check if you ate all the snacks they prepared for you. Slowly, you unwrap the bar and start chewing. You feel so heavy from your massive lunch, also eaten as instructed by your feeder: it had to be at least 2000 calories.
You try to discreetly massage your belly. Your feeder said that soon, you are going to get used to the snacks and larger portions. You really hope it's going to happen soon, since now, your belly is tight like a drum.
Three months later, it's no longer tight, but squishy and wobbly. You went up two pants sizes, and you look forward to your snacks and huge meals. Your feeder said that soon, they are going to up your daily intake.
You smile contentedly, pushing out your chubby cheeks. You love obeying.
It's basically inevitable that I'll get huge. The way I'm pampered and spoilt? Whatever treat I desire, delivered right to me; discouraged from lifting a finger, whenever possible. I'm too soft, too much of a princess for that kind of thing. My responsibility is to look pretty and to have another bite. Even at work I'm growing more sedentary; all the physical labour I used to do has fallen away, and more and more of my time is spent sitting. You can already see the effects, as my thighs spread out in my chair and my belly fills out my skirts. The gentle insistence that I keep a drawer full of snacks on my office doesn't help much, either. It's yet more fuel for me to keep expanding, slowly but steadily. Imagine what a little more insistence could do.
my ownership kink is making me go absolutely feral. like pls make sure everyone knows i’m yours. it could be with a bracelet, ring, collar, hickies, bruises, ANYTHING. id gladly show them off. i need need need it pretty please i need them to know i’m yours and yours only
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