ussbhmfeedeetotheend

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Can you even walk

I can, but it can be a challenge. Stairs area nightmare for me. I get out of breath after 4 steps on them. My walk is very much a waddle, with plenty of jiggle and sway

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

🍽️ 48 Hours of Total Indulgence: My Body Will Never Be the Same 🐷

It finally happened.

After weeks of teasing, flirting, late-night chats about calories and capacity… I met her.

A feeder. One that pushed me further than I thought I could.

Day One: Breaking the Seal

We started slow. Pancakes, sausage, hash browns, syrup, all laid out on the table. For one person. Me.

I stuffed myself obediently while she watched, rubbing my belly between bites. Soft moans left my mouth between chews. My pace quickened. She didn’t even need to say anything. Her eyes and hands kept me eating. By lunch, I was already heavy, distended, groaning. But she wasn't done. She straddled me, grabbed my face, and said:

"You're going to eat until you're stupid, breathless, and begging me to stop."

And I did.

Lunch was pizza, wings, garlic knots dipped in oil. She fed me by hand, sliding greasy bites past my lips, teasing me for chewing too slow. My belly rounded out harder and tighter with every mouthful. I couldn’t keep my thighs from spreading wider to make room for the growing dome of my stomach. I whimpered. She laughed.

Dinner? Chinese takeout. Multiple entrées. A tray of lo mein, egg rolls, fried rice, honey chicken and she wouldn’t let me use my hands. I had to lie back, moaning, while she stuffed me, one bite after another. I was slurring my words by the end, drunk on food and her dominance.

Then came the funnel.

A thick gainer shake, poured straight down my throat while I squirmed, too full to speak, too helpless to resist. I cried out. She whispered:

“Good pig. You’re gonna hurt tomorrow.”

She was right.

Day Two: Beyond Capacity

I woke up with my belly still full. Sore. Heavy. The hangover of pure gluttony.

She didn’t care.

“No breaks today. I want you ruined.”

Breakfast was brought to bed , donuts, buttered croissants, bacon piled high. She rubbed my bloated middle as I groaned through every bite, her voice cooing filth in my ear:

“Look at you. Can’t even sit up anymore, can you? Just a big, soft, stuffed mess.”

I was red-faced, sweat pooling in my folds, body too sluggish to respond. But she kept going.

By afternoon, I couldn’t even walk. She dragged me to the couch, stripped me down, and fed me like livestock. Chicken tenders, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes. all shoveled into my mouth while I whined, burped, twitched from the pressure inside me.

"You’re gonna grow so much you forget how to move."

She sat on my lap as I ballooned under her, belly pressing against her chest, both of us moaning with each slosh and stretch. Every time I thought I’d reached the end, she pushed me further. She owned my body. My limits didn’t matter anymore.

And then… the final push.

Funnel. Tube. Two shakes, then three. My belly rippled, fighting for space. I was crying, drooling, so full it hurt to breathe.

She kissed my forehead and whispered:

“Look at you. Too fat to move. Too full to think. Just how I like you.”

Now, I’m home. Still sore. Still heavy. I can feel the difference. Every movement slower, every breath deeper. My belly hangs lower. She didn’t just feed me.

She changed me.

And I can’t wait to go back.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

What really opened the gates to your gluttony. I'd really love to follow in your heavenly heavy steps! Any special techniques, supplements,or hypnosis that I should know about?

I would say what let the flood gates open was the pandemic. Nowhere to go besides zoom meetings for work, so I ate... and I ate.... and I ate. My weight spiked during that time. Fast food 4 times a day and tons of junk food. I decided to just go for it when I realized none of my pants fit me at all. My technique is for packing on the pounds is gainer shakes. and they don't have to be massive ones. Just make a batch each day and drink it as you go. Those added calories build up and give a good steady gain. i found supplements didn't do much for me. I am also not a big stuffer, and more of a grazer. I did have to work on building up capacity. That was actually the hard part for me.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Omg I can't stop fantasizing about wanting to be kidnapped and fed beyond recognition and be forced to catch up to your level of obesity with no chance of catching a break unless it involves actually breaking a scale!!!

I am so glad that I can inspire you to just go whole hog on this, hahahaha. You have to want it. Gorge and grow, pop buttons and tear seams. Eat and eat, when hungry and when not, when horny. Join me in scale breaking weights.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

🧦 Sock Struggle: Too Fat to Function 🐷

I tried to put on socks this morning. Tried.

But I’m just too fat.

I can’t lift my leg anymore. Can’t bend over, can’t even reach around this massive, jiggling gut. My belly gets in the way, my thighs crush together, and my arms are too thick and short now. just useless chubby stumps wobbling while I huff and puff, sweating from the effort.

I used to brace my foot on my knee to help. Not anymore.

That roll-covered leg of mine refuses to budge. The weight alone makes it impossible. too heavy, too round, too soft. The second I try to lift it, I just start panting and flopping back, belly slapping down in defeat.

Now? I have to rest my foot on the couch, awkwardly angled, wheezing like a hog while I try to stretch a sock over my swollen toes with shaking, sausage-thick fingers. And even that’s a struggle. My arms can barely reach. My breath comes in gasps. My gut pushes up against my chest and thighs, tight and bloated and in the way no matter what I do.

By the time I get them on, I’m red-faced and dripping in sweat.

All that work... just for socks.

I’m useless. Hopeless. Exactly how I want to be.

Too fat for something as simple as getting dressed.

Too soft, too heavy, too far gone.

And every time it gets harder… I want more.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

What was your starting weight when you first started gaining, and how long has it been since then?

Well, I have been a bit heavier for most of my life. i dipped my toes into gaining when i was in college a little but didn't go all in. I was around 220ish when the pandemic hit, and that is when i went whole hog and started to really push and pack on the pounds.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Is there anything I can put in my feedees food to help stimulate appetite or to make them get bigger faster?😮‍💨😮‍💨

Well, their are things like eat more, but i have found they don't do much. The best way to get good growth is to work on capacity. counter the amount of bites she takes to finish a meal, for the next one increase it by a little but, do this slowly and you will find she will become a bottomless pit. Also replace milk in cooking with heavy cream, even adding it to coffee will help the pounds pile on. Heavy cream is a miracle for gaining and gaining faster.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Hello! We just got my partner a toy you can control with an app and we are very excited to merge it into our feedee/feeder lifestyle! How long do you think it’ll take for her to build up the addiction 😮‍💨😫

It varies from person to person, but it can happen pretty quick. A month and a half had me hooked. I get turned on just driving past a fast food place now.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Hello I was wondering if you had any tips! So me and my girlfriend are in a feedee/feeder relationship and she’s already VERY VERY dependent on food and me being the one that supplies it but we want to take it further! We want to make her ADDICTED to food. we want her to be for lack of better words a literal slave to food where she truly cannot help herself Food is pleasure and pleasure is happiness style! Any tips on how to accomplish this!

A my tip I have for getting to a point of food addiction is to Pavlov her body to associate food and pleasure. Try to have her only eat when she is Horny and if she is horny make sure she eats. A good vibrator can make this so easy. This really worked for me. The pleasure association will make it much easier to stuff in more and will make her look forward to her meals.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

🔗 Tie Me Down & Fill Me Up 🐷

I don’t want control anymore. I don’t want choices. I want to be tied down. Strapped to the bed, wrists pinned, ankles spread wide as my overfed belly spills over the sides. Tight, round, groaning from the sheer volume I’ve already crammed inside.

I want to be turned into a helpless feeding experiment. Tray after tray, bowl after greasy bowl, shoveled into my open mouth. Moaning, drooling, whining around every mouthful, but still swallowing. Always swallowing. I want to feel the food pile up in my gut like wet cement, until I’m trembling, red-faced, stretched taut like an overinflated balloon.

No breaks. No mercy. Just gluttony.

Until I’m a bloated, sweaty, whimpering mess. Barely able to speak, too full to move. Belly high, firm, angrily distended. Tears in my eyes, breath catching in my throat with every pitiful burp.

And then… the funnel comes out.

You tilt my head back. Slide the tube past my lips. Thick, sludgy gainer shake starts pouring down. I can’t stop it. Can’t fight. It’s too much, too heavy, too rich, and it’s still coming. Filling every last crevice of my ruined stomach. I can feel it sloshing, my belly gurgling and rising higher with each desperate swallow.

I moan like a thing possessed. Not human. Just a pig. A vessel. A gut meant to be filled.

I want you to keep going. Until I’m too full to make a sound. Until my belly is a tight, round globe. twitching, overstretched, obscene. Until I’m crying from the pressure, the fullness, the helpless need to be even bigger.

Tie me down. Break me with calories. Feed me until I forget who I am.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Got damn! Got the urge to pin someone with my gut and go at it.

gonna be ovulating again soon, everyone hide while u still can

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

It finally happened a bit ago and I had to share my thoughts.

I stepped on the scale… and it just blinked at me.

“ERROR.”

No number. No reading.

Just cold, digital confirmation that I’ve officially outgrown the very thing meant to track my gain.

I’m too fat to weigh.

Let that sink in: I’ve packed on so much blubber, so many pounds of greed, laziness, indulgence, and gluttony that the scale gave up. I broke it. My belly alone probably weighs more than I used to. My thighs are swollen, dimpled trunks that grind together when I waddle. My arms jiggle with every breath. My fingers? Puffy and thick. Nearly useless, barely able to type this out.

I used to watch the number climb every week. Get hard just seeing how heavy I was getting. But now? Now I’ve surpassed it. Gone beyond what can be tracked like a normal human. I’m off the charts. A living monument to indulgence. A useless, wobbling, unmeasurable pig.

And it’s not enough.

I want to be even fatter. I want to outgrow furniture. Take up whole rooms. Break every limit, every tool meant to “monitor” me. No more sizes. No more numbers. Just mass. Just excess. Just me, moaning, heaving, begging to be fed until I can’t even reach the food myself.

Keep feeding me.

Keep growing me.

I don’t need numbers anymore. Just more.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

You seem like the perfect fattening influence. I'd love to learn to put everything aside just to eat every waking moment and every meal is an aching binge that never seems to stop!

I am glad that I can inspire you. I say go whole hog, dive off the deep eat. Eat and stuff and Gorge till it hurts, then eat some more. A good pig doesn't stop when they are full. The stop when their feeder says.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Stuffed, Aching, Still Not Done

I did it again. Ordered way too much Panda Express and stuffed myself like the insatiable pig I am.

Orange chicken, massive amounts of greasy chow mein, barbecue pork… It all blurred together as I shoveled it in—bite after greasy, heavy bite. No pacing. No control. Just panting, sweating, moaning into each overstuffed mouthful like a filthy little hog who doesn't know how to stop. The salt, the oil, the sugar. Every flavor coating my tongue as my belly grew tighter, rounder, heavier.

Now I'm sprawled out, belly bloated, so distended it's pressing into my ribs. I can feel it in my sides, radiating heat, pulsing with every heartbeat like it’s alive. I’ve eaten so much I can barely move. Every shift, every breath sends sharp pressure through my overfilled gut. And gods, it hurts… but it feels so fucking good.

I should be done. I should be ashamed.

But I want more. I need more.

I want to be fatter, so fat my body becomes useless. So heavy, so swollen, so indulgent that I can’t even lift my own sausage-thick fingers. Just a moaning, wobbling blob craving the next bite, too slow to walk, too soft to fight it.

I want to be fed until I’m too full to speak, too stuffed to move. Just lying in my own sweat, aching belly heaving with every breath, knowing I’m exactly what I was meant to be: a helpless, spoiled feedee begging for another bite.

Ruin me. Fatten me. Make me your bloated, breathless pet.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

You should eat again like that sometime pig, I wanna see you push your capacity more than ever

I need to keep pushing more and more. Stretching my gut even worse, so even a small snack is a feast of calories.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

God you're just the cutest little pig ive ever fucking seen, hearing just how excited you got shoving plate after plate down your fat throat makes me fantasize about just how far you could be pushed with a little help. I wonder how easy it'd be to make you gain faster than your weak little muscles could ever keep up with how devoted you are to being nothing but a slobby, wheezing mess that should never be allowed to leave its bed again

I know I am teetering in the edge. A little push as I will plunge into an irrecoverable cycle far worse than now.

I dream of my body growing more and more till I am nothing but a fat bloated hog, grunting for food and pleasure in my bed.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

Aftermath: Stuffed, Sweating, Destroyed

I’ve never been this full. Never been this ruined.

Two back-to-back binges. First the KBBQ, fatty meat dripping with grease, shoveled into my mouth like a starved beast. I didn’t chew, didn’t breathe, just devoured until I was red-faced and shaking, my gut swelling out obscenely over my waistband, moaning with every swallow. I was already dizzy by the time I left, stomach round and tight, skin pulled so taut it glowed. People stared. I waddled like a hog, thighs chafing, shirt rolled up over a gut that refused to stop growing.

And I still went to the buffet.

Dinner was a blur of deep-fried tempura, rich curry, endless sushi, noodles drowned in sauce. I didn’t sit, I slumped, belly pressed against the table, stuffing myself like I was being bred for meat. I knew I was pushing past my limit. I wanted to. I could feel my belly harden, distend, pulse from the inside, but I kept going, moaning, drooling, belching like the filthy pig I am.

Now I’m home. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I’m on my back, fully exposed: sweaty, flushed, useless. My gut is monstrous, high and tight and heaving with every labored breath. I keep burping, whining, whimpering as the pressure builds. It’s too much. Way too much. And I’m dripping, sweat, drool, precum, my body a swollen mess of overstimulated nerves and gluttony.

And then I did the unthinkable. I poured a thick gainer shake down my throat, forced it past the gag reflex, felt it hit that overfed belly like a bomb. I screamed. It was too full, too much... and I loved it. I needed it. I wanted to be broken. And now I am.

I’m not even a person anymore. I’m just a bloated, breathless pig, too stuffed to think, aching for more, for anyone to use me while I lie here helpless, moaning into my fat.

This is what I was made for. To be fattened, ruined, owned.