Belly worship
Beautiful.

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@bigfatfinnick
Belly worship
Beautiful.
Piggy
Piggy.
Admit it, you like it when I call you that.
It is pretty fitting, unlike most of your wardrobe. That’s right, don’t think I haven’t noticed! I mean, how could I not when you get so out of breath every morning trying to put on your jeans. It’s so cute watching your fat ass squeeze into those things. At this point they look like they’re practically painted on. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if they were, you’ve grown quite a bit!
Remember when I told you I accidentally threw them in the dryer and they shrunk a little bit? Just kidding! You owe all that to that big, fat gut of yours, darling.
Well… I may have helped a little bit with that actually.
Remember when I clumsily dropped all those dishes? That was actually just an excuse to buy new plates. If you had any hope of losing weight maybe I would have gotten smaller ones, but of course, they, just like you, got bigger.
Remember all those leftover cookies, cakes, brownies, and pies I brought home from those new ‘productivity boosting office meetings’ I told you about? I just brought those all home from the bakery to keep you tempted and full.
How about those times where I promised I would make dinner but then “forgot”, forcing us to order out?
But hey you enjoyed stuffing all those pizzas in your mouth right? You always looked so content with your pants unbuttoned, mouth stained, and tummy bloated. Of course that didn’t stop you from waddling your tight panty clad ass to get a late night snack. I’d always clumsily order two pizzas, but it’s not like they would be there in the morning. Especially now since you’re looking like we better upgrade to three.
Let’s not act like most of this was my fault though. Knowing your appetite, this was bound to happen anyway. I never forced you to eat those entire sheet cakes or pans of brownies. I only rubbed your belly to make you feel more comfortable, how was I supposed to know you would just eat more?
Besides, just face it. You’re a porker, a hog, a full blown fat pig, and you know it. It’s so cute when you try to hide the fact that you get out of breath just from standing up. Your face already red, and just getting even redder from embarrassment. It’s okay to be gaining weight, just be a good piggy and own up to it.
You might even enjoy it more, the reckless abandonment of dietary restrictions. All the unhealthy, caloric, sugary junk you could imagine. Anything you want. All the time spent on your fat ass loading up on carbs just for it to be converted to more fat. The relaxing, increasingly slowing rhythm of your waddle. No need to prove a point, just succumb to the huge hulking mass that is the true you.
Accept those chubby cheeks that are waiting to be filled and to become tired enough to switch over from chewing to milkshakes.
Accept those extra chins, burying your face and neck in blubber as immediate notoriety for your utter gluttony and appetite.
Accept those doughy arms, weighing your next mouthful down and begging me to take away their job, eventually for an early retirement.
Accept those fat fingers, surprising you with your own lack of self discipline and fading dexterity.
Accept that huge belly, constantly pulling you forward and serving as a permanent monument, never letting you forget that you’re a fat pig.
Accept your gigantic ass, testing the strength of every piece of furniture you ever sit on and making creaking, collapsing, and crashing a constant soundtrack.
Accept your collasal thighs, hiding predictions of your even fatter future in their dimples, destroying every fabric that meets its path on top of everything edible that meets yours.
Accept your fat feet, bloating up to resist and turn the slow waddle into a crawl, inevitably making a scooter or rather bed your ass’s new home.
Accept yourself as a piggy, letting the pounds ooze onto you, the breaths escape your catch, and your gluttony win.
Piggy.
#HOT
Reblog or your mom will die in 928 seconds.
I love my mom.
I am risking nothing
I AM SORRY FOLLOWERS, I LOVE MY MOMMY
Will not risk.
sorry followers :(
omg im so glad to se so many people love their mummy
Why’re you being mean to my mum?
goddamn it
Nope. Googled it. 15 minuets. Nope. Not taking any chances
This has 1.2 million reblogs … Ps not riskin it
1.4 almost ps not risking it
Fuck this post
I am sorry…
I fucks with my moms too heavy to be playing games. REBLOG
Hell no.
Sorry
Y'all really got a porn blog out here doin it.
I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to my Mom lol
I second my husband’s emotion! Lol
This is supposed to be a porn blog but NO
Scrolled past but got paranoid
Just being a fat.
And quite fat you are :X
I need to be immobile
I hate walking. It wastes precious calories that could’ve become even more fat on my growing body. It wastes time when I could be eating instead.
I hate standing upright. A good pig should be laying on all fours, their face buried in a trough, gorging on their latest meal.
I hate the idea of being “full” after eating. There is no such thing. There is always room for more. Always. A piggy should never stop eating.
I hate exercising. I need my body to be soft and wide, not the opposite.
I hate being able to move around. It’s nothing but a reminder of how I’m not fat enough when I should be hundreds of pounds past that point.
I love eating. Tasting wonderful flavors and filling my belly feels incredible.
I love gorging. Nothing feels more amazing than feeling my stomach stretch as I lose all self control and continue eating, and eating, and eating, never stopping until I physically cannot squeeze another bite in… only to start all over again a few hours later.
I love being lazy. Knowing I’ve done nothing but lay around all day and stuff my face makes me so happy.
I love being fat. I love growing fatter. It means my body is growing softer and sexier. It means I’ve been a good piglet.
I don’t just want to be so fat that I can’t move, I need it. I need it more than I’ve ever needed anything. There is nothing that would make me happier than knowing I’ll never have to walk again, or stand, or exercise, or move. I’ll be physically incapable of doing anything other than the two things I love most: gorging on food and growing endlessly fatter.
Feed me until I’m so fat that I never walk again. I’ll love every minute of it.
@gainingstraight
Finally, someone who really understands this delicious affliction.
My feelings,exactly.
reading this has made me hard, ….peculiar
Relevant!
I love this and think it’s true just enjoy and be proud of what ever body you got.
This is totally me. Steadily getting fatter until I finally just stopped giving a fuck and started flaunting and enjoying it.
Feedress's "A to Z" Guide to Seducing Your (Anonymous?) Feedee
Oh Anonymous, what have you done now? You’ve sent me your “A to Z” list of “What are the things your feedress says or does to get you going?” Imagine my delight and surprise to find all of this waiting in my inbox — Incredibly hot! And so secretive and sneaky of you to send it anonymously!
So I’ve compiled your list for everyone else to see. And of course, you all know that I can’t keep my opinions to myself, so I’ve added my comments after yours. Hope you all enjoy this list as much as I have!
WHAT CAN YOUR FEEDRESS DO TO TURN YOU ON? (And your FFF feedress’s thoughts on these things too!)
A. Tie me up and feed me (Love to!)
B. Tease me about my gluttony after you’ve stuffed me senseless (Of course! You know you just can’t help yourself!)
C. Stuff me, then sometimes deny my “release” so I’ll never know when I’ll get my “fill” (Mmm, I love that one! Oh, I’m such a tease! How about “No sex until you’ve finished eating *everything*!”)
D. “Strip-tease" feed me, removing one article of clothing per treat I devour, except as a wily feedress, you’ve come dressed appropriately (Oooo sounds fun!)
E. Question my choices when we’re with friends, like “You’ve put on so much weight lately, are you really sure you should be eating that?” although your hand on my thigh beneath the tablecloth is spurring those choices on (No one I know could ever believe that those words would be coming out of my mouth! But my hand *just* on your thigh? Hmm, might wind up moving my hand around to “other areas” — I can’t help it, I love feeling how hard you are especially when it comes to being turned on by what you’re eating!)
F. Tell my relatives you’ve tried “everything” to get me to lose weight, and look at me knowingly when you say this (Yeah, that one would also be hard to believe considering the way I cook and bake!)
G. Pleasure yourself while watching me eat (I wouldn’t be able to help myself, you’re gluttonous eating turns me on like nothing else!)
H. Complain about my weight and my constant eating when talking to your friends while I’m within earshot, especially as you sneakily hand me more treats to devour (No one I know would believe that I was complaining about weight gain or eating!)
I. Point out how weak-willed I’ve been and how it’s all my fault, nothing at all to do with you (Sorry, your gain *is* all my fault, and it turns me on so very much to know I’m responsible for how huge you are — But I might tell you this anyway just to turn you on!)
J. Measure me before and after stuffing (Oh yeah, I wanna know how much I’ve stuffed into you, and maybe compare it to what I’ve previously done to you!)
K. Nuzzle my neck and whisper sweet nothings in my ear about how fat you’ve made me as you’re feeding me even more (So sexy! One hand feeding you, and the other stroking you? Mmm hmm, even hotter!)
L. Run “hot and cold” as you’re stuffing me so I’ll never know where I stand or who is really in control (Lol, I’m *always* in control! Any control you think you might have is only your delusion! And cold? Not likely because I run either “hot” or “on fire”!)
M. Point out how unfit I’m getting (“I can’t believe you’ve let yourself go like this! You used to be so fit, and now look at you! You’re out of breath just from walking to the fridge to get more food to stuff into your humongous gut!”)
N. Exercise your own body while making me stuff mine (Love that idea, but if I’m watching you eat while I’m working out? I might have to finish my “workout” on top of you while shoving more food into your mouth. I’m sure you won’t mind!)
O. Keep pointing out how much of a glutton I am (Mmm, sexy! I couldn’t help myself, I’ll keep reminding you of how fat and out of control you are whenever I can!)
P. Ravish me whenever I outgrow a piece of clothing (I definitely wouldn’t be able to help myself, *especially* if you’ve accidentally ripped something from your expanding fatness!)
Q. For our social engagements, make me wear clothes that are too small, and then overfill my plate while we’re at them (Hehe, my idea of a “social engagement” is casually hanging out with a bunch of artists, hippies, geeks, and misfits (love all my people!)… But I definitely love you wearing tight clothes, and I’ll definitely make sure you’re well fed wherever we go!)
R. Tease me about the clearly visible signs of my “excitement” as you’re stuffing me (“Are all these treats I’m feeding you making you hard, fatboy? Aww, how adorable!” or “I know you can’t resist a good feeding, but damn babe! You just can’t contain yourself!”)
S. Play rough whenever you want as you’re stuffing me, because you know I’m into it too, and I can handle whatever you dish out physically, verbally, and “culinarily” (Haha, oh you think so, huh? I might have to disagree with you on that one, well at least physically… Unless you’ve also had extensive martial arts training!)
T. Take great pride at whatever unsavory comments are directed at me for my changing physique (Well I am very proud and extremely turned on by your gorgeously gorged body, but the rude comments themselves don’t arouse me. If they turn you on, then that can get me going — I love anything that gets you off! Otherwise, if someone’s rude to you I might just have to “kick their ass”! I definitely won’t allow disrespectful behavior from anyone to go unchecked, unless you’re really, really into it. Even then, it would be very hard for me to bite my tongue and not confront any assholes making rude comments!)
U. Repeat those rude comments to me often (Only if you’re into it! I love saying things to drive you wild! Knowing that I’m making you hard *really* turns me on!)
V. Put your hands on my belly whenever you want, and worship it like I worship you (“Your” belly? Hehe, don’t you know by now that it’s all *MY* belly?!? And of course I’ll have my hands on *MY* belly whenever I want! After all, that gorgeous belly is all mine, all my creation, all my fault, and totally my responsibility! And I would expect nothing less than your adoration in return!)
W. Learn my food weaknesses, and exploit them mercilessly (Oh yeah! What kind of feedress wouldn’t know what foods to best tempt her feedee with?)
X. Take full advantage of our fetish, and the fact that I’m into it and pleasing you pleases me (Mmm, I love “taking advantage” whenever I can — Nothing would be make me happier!)
Y. Know that because we share this together, I’ll never form a bond with another that’s stronger than the one I’ve formed with you (Obviously there’s more to a bond than sexual chemistry around a shared fetish. But if all the other “important stuff” matches up too? This sounds absolutely amazing, and hopefully one day the idea of that kind of bond will be a reality. I can’t imagine anything more intensely intimate than a relationship like that!)
Z. Make me eat any time, any place, any where, all to your heart’s desire (Of course! You wouldn’t really have a choice now would you? And you know I would never be able to stop feeding you, ever!)
So Anonymous, how can we convince you to come out of the shadows and claim this list as your own? Or will we always wonder who you are? Mmm, I do love a good mystery!
Yummy. Makes me want to write an alphabetical list of teases…… Project post summer crazy!
A year’s worth of Tummy Tuesdays
Mästet ihn mehr
He’s never not worthy of reblog
Guilty!!