I love the thought of training you to be my growing bimbo fatty…
Since you’ve let me in, I’ve gradually been relieving you all of those silly professional achievements and pressures of your independent lifestyle.
Achievements are for strong girls, not you. You’re my soft, helpless fatty. Now all you have to do is be a cute couch potato, your only purpose being to grow fatter, get dumber, and cum.
I’ve made sure your vibrator spends most of the day wedged perfectly in your squishy pussy as you mindlessly graze on addictively tasty treats, frying your brain cells gazing at degenerate tv shows all day.
Ive kept edging you while i stuff you so that now you get wet any time you eat - even during your secret stuffings when i’m not there
I shower you with praise when you give up wearing cute outfits and opt to vegetate in your loose, stretchy Pyjamas. Because it keeps you oblivious to how fat you’re growing.
I’ve made your lifestyle become a cycle of hedonism and orgasms. I’ve kept all of your most addictive fast food at arms reach all day. I’ve keep you in a state of mindlessness from the constant edging. You’ve become so overstimulated that you can’t even string two sentences together without me telling you what to think.
Your heavy, round sedentary porker body is overflowing and spilling out everywhere now. And i love occasionally dressing you up in tight clothes and taking you for a walk in the mall to show off my prized bimbo fatty