sorry i haven’t posted me in a bit. but here’s me looking fat
bringing this pic back. look how thicc i looked
almost home
YOU ARE THE REASON
todays bird

pixel skylines
i don't do bad sauce passes
Monterey Bay Aquarium
noise dept.

if i look back, i am lost

@theartofmadeline
Sweet Seals For You, Always
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Jules of Nature
Acquired Stardust

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blake kathryn
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@fat-fingered
sorry i haven’t posted me in a bit. but here’s me looking fat
bringing this pic back. look how thicc i looked
I feel and kinda look (shape-wise) like a younger Yokozuna
ready to go through the drive thru 😚
jiggle jiggle
for the day crowd
Body positivism - follow my journey!
blueberry? 🫐
jiggle jiggle
for the day crowd
jiggle jiggle
some pics from yesterday 🐷
some pics from yesterday 🐷
i want you to melt your brain for me piggy. i want you to drown yourself in pleasure every time you fill that greedy belly up with way too many empty calories. every time you stuff your pretty face with junk, you should be touching yourself or sitting on your vibrator. and you should be doing that multiple times a day. it just feels soo good to be a depraved hog for daddy, doesn’t it? to just turn your mind off and gorge till you can’t take another bite? then cum your brains out to that feeling and the thought that each stuffing is piling even more useless lard onto your body for me to grope and fuck? i know it does babygirl, that’s why your belly hangs so low now 🥺 that’s why you’re covered in a thick layer of blubber all over your body and you get out of breath waddling to the kitchen for another litre of cream. you’re such a good little piggy princess for daddy. we’re going to break your silly little hogbrain till you get wet just opening up your food delivery apps 🤭
🎶 have yourself a heavy little christmas 🎵
[x]
Housepet feedee who swore they’d never let themselves get so heavy and plush, but they’re so in love with their owner and are so helpless against their insistent feeding that they’re growing too wide for their fluffy pet bed.
Their owner thinks about letting up from time to time, but it’s just too cute seeing their pet’s belly brush against the floor when on all fours. They could get them a new collar, but their supple chins puckering over their current one is just too endearing. What’s 20 more pounds on a lazy little house pet anyways?
I want you so obese you don’t know what to do. You’ve gained so much so fast that your body hasn’t had time to adjust. Everything got so difficult so quickly. After a big meal you can barely get up, so you just sit there whining about how bad this is getting. All your clothes are four sizes too small and the waddling is harder than you ever expected it to be. You’re moving less and less each day…
You keep saying maybe we should slow down, but you’re so hungry all the time. If you aren’t stuffed, you’re basically starving. You know it’s getting out of hand, but what else can you do? You have no choice but to keep going, hoping for the weight plateau that will give you a chance to settle. But that’s never going to happen. I’ll make sure of it.
"You want me bigger?"
I caress a hand over your stomach, watching how even the gentle touch makes the fat undulate.
"So much bigger."
"I already feel so fucking huge," you breathe out.
"That's because we're feeding you, pet." I give your belly a few light pats. It's okay. I know you always have a hard time thinking when you eat. "You're so adorable like this."
You try to shift but your the swell and weight of your gut keeps you from moving much. All you manage is to successfully collapse back with a whimper. But beneath that pain, your pleasure is obvious. You love what you've turned into. We both do.
"God, I'm so fat."
"Mhmm. Soft, too. You want more?"
"More of what?"
You're so overfed you're still not thinking clearly.
My smile is slow. Teasing. Knowing.
"More of everything. More of it all. More food, More fat. More of this," I say, like a spell while squeezing your hang. My thumb circles the rim of your belly button.
"Fuck," you say, arm reaching around to lift and heft your swollen gut, rubbing it gingerly. You're clearly drunk on the feeling as your head falls back.
We both know your answer as you exhale loudly. It sounds like the tail-end of a silent moan. The noise you make when you know you can't help yourself, the same one you make when you're determined to eat yourself into food coma, which has become more frequent. The one that shows the conditioning worked; it's clear from the damp spot growing on your underwear. You sound and look so hot like this. You groan, as your hand sinks lower, stroking and rubbing slowly.
"You've turned me into such a pig," you breathe, lost in the feeling.
"You're the one who wanted to experiment. Who said you just wanted to try this."
"Yeah, but I didn't do this by myself," you say, grabbing your overhang roughly. "Now look at me."
I take you in. Your folds. Your chins. You big arms and soft chest. The way you don't fit in your shirt, at my request, and your belly spills out of it and onto your wide thighs.
"I see you. All of you. And I want more."
I see your resolve waver at the lust in my voice. What that has meant in the past. And you really are overstuffed. Leaden to the couch. For a moment, I offer mercy, gently massaging the discomfort away and a belch slips out.
Then, I pull out a surprise. Something I was saving. Your favorite.
Your eyes widen in delight and desperation.
We've rewired your brain, after all.
Whatever's put in front of you, you eat. It's an automatic response at this point. You reach for the food with some difficulty over the dome of your engorged middle and I hand it to you. I pat your underbelly as you open the container and dig in without another word, feasting uncontrollably, punctuated by shameless, greedy noises. My hands on your belly as you eat is just another trigger to spur your sudden, ravenous hunger. You moan at around another bite.
"More," you grunt, shoveling it in faster. The container grazes a nipple as you lift your meal closer and you pause briefly to keep yourself on edge, whimpering and rutting at the sensation, fat wobbling. You know the rules so well. You're not allowed release until you finish. Until I say so.
My fingers lightly drag and scratch along your stretchmarks. You sigh, pleased, as you stuff yourself.
You're so obedient now. We've trained you well.
"Good piggy."
sorry i haven’t posted me in a bit. but here’s me looking fat
ready to go through the drive thru 😚
stuffed full of cake
would love some teasing or some comments on my tight clothes and stuffed belly 🥺🥺