over--fed

[over--fed]

i’m finallyyy starting to feel bigger too 😋

[over--fed]

efg mag (spring issue)

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Geeze… 🫣

[over--fed]

I want to do a weight gain drive, what do you guys think? I think another 40lbs by the end of August could be a good goal :)) 🐷

[over--fed]

Oh poor thing, did you go and stuff yourself too full? I know, I know. That little belly of yours must be aching. You've really overdone it this time.

But it'll be alright. That's exactly how it should feel.

That tightness? That firmness? That's that little stomach of yours being stretched out. Expanded. Grown to the proper size. Yes, I know it feels like too much. It should feel like too much. You need to get used to this feeling, after all. The feeling of being packed tight and positively engorged. That's how we're going to get that little tummy of yours to grow. That's how we're going to get you to grow.

Come now, my dear. Let me rub that belly of yours. I know you can fit just one more bite. Can't you?

[over--fed]

sweet, soft encouragement from a feeder is always a delight— but what about mean (and confusing) encouragement?

and no, not mean in the way that most people automatically assume. i don't always want the vicious insults or shaming, though that can be nice too!

what i picture is a feeder that isn't afraid to raise her voice at me when i don't finish the food she worked so hard to make.

or a feeder who won't hesitate to tell me how much she spent on all the treats she ordered— and that not eating them would be a disrespect to her time and money.

make me feel bad that i'm not already at my goal weight.

make me feel responsible for the needle on the scale remaining in the same spot.

and then, when i finally muster up the motivation to finish off the feast— do the work for me. tell me how good i'm doing.

patiently shovel bite after bite into my exhausted mouth and praise my efforts after nearly making me cry.

[over--fed]

Just when you become pleased with how fat you’ve become you find yourself belly-to-belly with someone who’s REALLY FAT!

[over--fed]

there is just something about an oiled up big belly uff 🐷🥵

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I could have my feeder rub my belly for hours. He does it so good

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10 month difference 😵‍💫

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Burpppp i so proud of myself! Mcd stuffing!! Poor baby is getting bigger and belly rounder! Fuck!! 😈🤭🤰

[over--fed]

I want you to give me a belly that rests on the floor when you put me on all fours. Fatten me until all that empty space gets filled in with more of the jiggling dough I was already so embarrassed about. Until my nipples brush the ground between my fattened hands, huge moobs tugging with gravity, too heavy. Put a little collar around my neck that pushes my double chin up and out, that makes my face look even plumper than we've already grown it. Make me feel passive and docile as you push food into my mouth and tell me not to worry about what it's doing to me. Inspect me in excruciating detail, gloved hands carefully lifting and checking each fat roll, making me watch in the mirror as you test the heft, the softness. Get both your hands under my hang, ready yourself then lift, gasping at the obscene weight of it as you manage to hold it off my legs for just a few moments. Alternate between shocked scolding and sweet praising until my head's spinning. Draw a measuring tape around me, cold against my vulnerable dough, and spend ages checking on the progress of your little project. See how badly I'm blushing and put the tape down for a little break, gloves off, bare hands on my bare fat, cooing soft words to calm me, ("I know... so big... oh, there... it's alright... don't worry...") soothing my heavy fat in small circles. Your hand on the side of my stretchmarked gut looks like a tiny boat on the vast ocean, and you start to gently pat... the side, the front, the underside - especially the underside - until I'm wobbling softly all over, wobbling in places I didn't even know could wobble, and then I'm the one doing all the cooing and moaning. The flush across my face deepens, but it's different now. You go back to your work, checking the changes you've wrought on my figure, not telling me the numbers, as I slowly combust. My fingers creep towards myself, wanting to touch and hold, but my hands get in your way and you scold me with a gentle, "No." When you're finally done, you roll up the tape measure, throw out the gloves, and tempt me away from the mirror. I'm such a trembling, flushed mess from your handling, overcome and barely lucid, so you help me navigate my new waddle, guiding me towards the bedroom, and sit me down on the edge of the mattress. My hips petticoat out, my stomach fills my lap most of the way to my knees. Rolls stacks on rolls, soft and heavy, and you come back with the lotion bottle. Join me

[over--fed]

True fatspiratiion, an aspirational belly if there ever was one!

[over--fed]

Such an over fed cow my rolls are just spilling out of this swimsuit!

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The aftermath of my thanksgiving feast 😋

[over--fed]

170 ➡️ 470

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t-boys must be protected and cherished! overfeeding them is obviously the most logical solution. fatten them up and all that extra flab will offer plenty of padding and insulation from the world. 🤔🧠📈