Milestone weigh-ins should be used as a way to deepen the ties between feeder and feedee. Make them meaningful. Your journey should feel guided, a way for you to see what is coming and accept it. Make it easier to tie your past to certain weights, a timeline that lets nostalgia settle in.
I don't think anyone should celebrate a 50lb gain without signing away a piece of their former life for the feeder to handle. It should hit you hard. It should make the feeder more involved. As scary as it might be to approach a new milestone, it simply means your feeder will be forced to spend more effort on you. This is fine, we are destined to fall into this spiral and inescapable decline together, right? You can't escape your future.
Think of all the hard conversations you can avoid when you are told what is going to happen. It shouldn't be up to you to make the call about your comfort, your submissive mind isn't built to advocate for yourself like that. You want a strong-minded, dominant feeder figure to let you know what is happening, when it will happen.
Even with traveling, the rules can be so layered.
300lbs, you no longer deal with parking lots and walking. You are dropped off close. You sit on a bench and wait for your feeder. Why be forced to walk further than the length of your home because you want to experience something as simple as a restaurant?
350lbs, you are given a seatbelt extender. When you leave home, it is no longer checking for phone/wallet/keys. You add the extender to that list. You bring it with you. An accessory.
400lbs, you no longer travel without snacks in the car, or multiple stops for a longer trip. Getting packed into a seat is uncomfortable by now, you should be rewarded with a source of food.
450lbs, you may be forced to sit in the back seat. The passenger seat is moved all the way up to allow your meaty thighs some room. People will understand that you don't drive anymore, or that you won't go anywhere without your personal accommodation, it's easier.
500lbs, you start finding yourself waiting for the van to load you up in the back on your scooter. Climbing that extra step into the car is difficult with how heavy your legs are becoming. Getting out is a falling hazard. This is your new reality, being loaded up into the back like cattle.
Imagine the relief, dread, or fear of approaching a milestone with these rules in place for all facets of your daily life. Traveling, your bathing routine, your steps in the house, your eating habits, your *permission to even leave home to begin with*. Knowing this particular meal is going to be the one that will forbid you from walking alone in the house without a walker. Knowing your activity is prescribed to be reduced by 50% with each set of rules. Having your new set of rights read to you as it dawns on you how much your weight is piling up around you, how you have to admit that certain fatties like yourself become helpless for a reason.
The rules only become more intense, more damning. How does it feel to reach those higher weights, your grease stained signature on the document, and the only thing keeping you from being allowed to leave bed is a measly 5lbs?
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