Youāre such a desperately gluttonous penned-up little piggy that you'll be gorging yourself more and more these days, won't you? It's so pathetically hot how the things that would be moments of clarity or screaming warnings for anyone else just act as an appetite stimulant for you. Most people would panic if they needed breaks in short walks or struggled up a single flight of stairs, but for you, realizing that a simple waddle to your next meal leaves you breathless only makes you want to swell more. You're addicted to the idea of ballooning until you're even slower, huffing and puffing through every shallow, greasy breath while you imagine yourself getting even softer. You've reached a point where you want your body to pitifully give up on anything but gluttony. You're dreaming of being layered with so much thick, heavy lard that you can't even beg your stretch mark covered body to get up anymore. Your mind surrendered to the grease long ago, and while your body is still lagging behind, you'll happily shovel bite after bite of salt and sugar down your throat until you're absolutely certain that no amount of willpower could ever move your jiggling, doughy blob of a body again. You want to be so far gone that your only option is to keep growing while you struggle to catch your breath under the weight of your own hedonism. So when you inevitably sit down to eat enough for a whole group of people again, I want you to focus on the sensation of your gut spilling further over your lap. Remember that for a pampered, spoiled piggy like you, there's no such thing as "enough" and there never will be again. You're going to keep pushing until your starting weight is just a memory buried under mountains of soft, sedentary ruin, and the best part is how much you'll love the feeling of finally being too heavy to escape the life youāve eaten and orgasmed your way into. Every heavy swallow is just another brick in the wall of your own beautiful, lard filled prison. <3