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eightfatweeb

Ashley from the coffin game, I don't care about the game, I liked her design, that's all. Old com from thiccydonut.

eightfatweeb

https://x.com/CloudXMoe/status/1943569042372976935

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Your girlfriend had never exactly been "skinny". She wasn't fat by any means (not when you two got together at least), but there was always a certain roundness to her that caught your eye from the beginning. It was just enough to make it clear that she wasn't someone who put in any time at the gym. She didn't have those firm edges and defined angles that muscle would have given her figure... She was too lazy to strive for that. She just wasn't all that motivated by food, so she never ate enough for her weight to really change.

That was before she moved in with you, though.

It wasn't intentional at first. She spent a lot of time at home, since she only worked part-time, and you had always kept your fridge and pantry stocked with a bunch your favourite snacks... which also turned out to be some of her favourite snacks. When she lived alone, she was too disorganised to keep her pantry properly stocked, so snacks were a luxury that diminished fast at her old place. Living with you meant they were always getting refreshed as soon as they started to run out, so she didn't have that natural limitation.

And it started to show.

It was slow enough that it took you both by surprise, but she was getting bigger. Every morning, you noticed how much longer it took her to get ready, even as she remained oblivious to how her routine was adapting. She fought to put on her panties every morning, stretching them to their limit as they were pulled over her rounder ass; she needed to suck in her belly as far as she could just to get her jeans to button up, and the strain they were under was she let her gut spill back out was clear even from where you would watch her; she would need to try on two or three tops before she found one that didn't leave the underside of her belly exposed. She blamed it on the fact you were making sure she drank more water now.

And you... agreed with her.

You knew that wasn't the truth. You always took out the garbage, and always saw the empty bags of chips and chocolate bar wrappers that you definitely knew hadn't been put there by you, but even though the fact she was plumping up from all that eating was obvious to you... You didn't want to reveal that to her.

Because then she'd probably stop eating so much. And then you wouldn't get to see her grow bigger.

You had never had a particularly strong preference about your girlfriend's size. Slim, thick, you loved her no matter what she weighed. But this was more than that. The way she was so oblivious to the way her body was changing, the way her clothes were straining to keep up, the fact that the snacks in your pantry were definitely disappearing faster than they had been when she first moved in... It was pushing all the right buttons for you. Sex had never been better, and she still hadn't noticed that you hands seemed to be spending a lot more time than usual groping her softer ass cheeks or squeezing the fat roll that was forming around her midsection.

So you kept your observations to yourself, and made sure to double your snack purchases to make sure she never ran out of them while she was watching TV or gaming at home while you were out at work. You even started leaving some in the living room sometimes, so that she could indulge her appetite without even needing to think about it. You'd get home in the evening to find her lying on the couch, finishing off her sixth bag of chips, her jeans unbuttoned to make room for the extra belly she was sporting... And then she'd ask what you wanted to do for dinner.

But you weren't fattening her up. You were just making it easier for her to do that to herself. It was all her decision, after all. As far as anyone could prove, you just hadn't noticed that you were buying boatloads of your girlfriend's favourite snacks and leaving them all around the house for her to mindlessly graze on all day long. Her eating habits just totally slipped by you...

That excuse didn't hold up so well when you started bleaching the tags on her clothes so that she wouldn't notice you replacing them with the next size up any time she started struggling to pick out an outfit that she could still fit her fat gut into. But still weren't technically forcing her to eat so much and never exercise any of those calories off. You were just... making sure her clothes stayed comfortable! And that she didn't get self-conscious about rapidly approaching the plus-sized range of clothes! Yeah, you were totally just being a good boyfriend.

You were always on her side when she would complain that your favourite restaurants were sneakily reducing their serving sizes. Of course that's what they're doing, babe! Why else would you still be hungry after your usual order? We'll get you a second dessert though, it's okay...

And you always reassured when she would ask you if you thought she looked a little different lately. You look as beautiful as you always have, babe. I'm sure your face just looks a little rounder because of the way you've been styling your hair lately. Don't be silly babe, you don't have a double-chin, it's just the lighting. Your thigh gap is still there sweetheart, don't worry, your belly just blocks your view of it.

You did so much to keep her spirits up when she got laid off from work, too! Bringing home take-out for her to cheer her up when you'd come home from work, telling her she could spend as long as she needed cooped up in the house, encouraging her interest in taking up baking to fill in her now-abundant free time...

You were just being a good boyfriend. It's not you fault she got so fat...

As you get back from work with the three twelve-inch pizzas she asked you to pick up on the way home though, and watch her struggle to rock herself onto her feet from her position seated on the couch, you do feel a tiny bit responsible for what she has become.

Maybe you did enable her NEET tendencies, just a bit. But she has such a big smile on her face as she waddles towards you in the doorway, licking her lips, so she can't be that bothered by the fact that she hasn't really left the house in the past month...

And maybe she wouldn't be so obese if you didn't make her heavy-cream milkshakes whenever she mentioned being in the mood for something sweet. But could the dozens of pounds of flab and blubber jiggling and bouncing on her frame with every step she took towards you definitely be blamed on those thousands of empty calories?

An argument could be made that telling her that she didn't have to keep wearing clothes around the house if she didn't want to didn't really help her waistline... But you stopped being able to find clothes in her size eventually, and she was going to notice her outfits tearing sooner or later if you didn't do something. You think her new au natural suits her really well, though! You love the fact that you don't have to wait until you get her into the bedroom to see the thick rolls of chub adorning her once-flat tummy, or the thick layers of cellulite coating her ass and thighs, or her pendulous tits that bounce against each other with every step she takes. It's not like she seems to mind the fact that it's so much easier for you to grope every fleshy inch of her, either.

As she reaches you and opens up the first pizza box, she stops for a second, her hand already halfway towards her first delicious slice. She looks at you, and when she catches her breath, she speaks:

"Babe... Do you think I'm getting fat?"

listentoace

Oh honey, just look at yourself. You gained another pound, didn't you? I thought you said you were going to slow things down. You just wanted to have a little fun, enjoy that bit of pudge, and be done with it. But that was 15 pounds ago, am I right? You said you were going to stop, over and over again, but the weight just keeps piling on. You don't even give off the impression that you're even trying to slow things down. I can see you snacking all day long, enjoy some junk food here and there, and I don't know when I've last seen you drink water instead of soda. You go for seconds more and more often, sometimes even thirds, if you really like the food, and don't think I don't notice you unbuttoning those pants before dessert comes around.

Your hips are softening up, your muffin top is growing into a real belly, and even your arms are starting to strain against your sleeves. You can't tell me you don't notice how all your clothes feel tighter. In fact, when you're wearing something that used to be a bit tighter already, where your fat just flows out right now, you look hideous. Look... You know just as well what you said. Gain a bit, have some fun, lose the weight again. So far, you've only managed to do two of those things. But darling, it's fine. If you want to be a little fatty, just keep eating.

I like how your body is changing. Your boobs are getting bigger, and your ass is getting really wide and juicy. And the way your belly rubs up against me when we are in bed is both cute and really hot. You may also have noticed how I kept stocking up on your favorite snacks, knowing you'd find and eat them all. And, if I'm being completely honest, you look hotter than ever. You're turning into such a fat mess, such a beautiful, fattened piggy, that it would be a shame to stop now. I know you love this. The food, the indulgence, the fat growing on your body. Just embrace it and admit to yourself that you won't be stopping anytime soon. It's not like you'd want that anyways, right? You chose this. You know you want more ~

eightfatweeb

Aaaand the finale! I love risky nudity so much man. I gotta draw more of it.

horzagobuchul

Fat samus is best samus. Can we get a lazy couch potato Samus? I love the idea of people getting brainwashed into huge happy lazy gluttons by their tvs.

Watch out Samus... Too much TV will put its mark on your waistline~

fatwolfpup

Whats your favorite fantasy?

omigod i forgot to answer this aaaaaah

My favorite fantasy like EVER is the idea of being like, grabbed off the streets and taken away and locked in a basement.

I'm strapped to a chair/bed and still in the same clothes I was grabbed in. And the kidnapper does like, a whole speech about how much they've fallen in love with me and how long they've been watching me and how they know they can't keep me forever but they want to show how much they love me and make more of me to love.

And soon I've got a feeding tube shoved down my throat, piping high calorie shakes directly into my stomach. There's a vr headset strapped to my head feeding me hypno videos to make me docile and obedient.

I can feel my clothes stretch and burst as the days pass and I grow fatter and fatter. My captor always fawning over my body and telling me how great I'm going to look when they're done.

After an untold number of days/months/years I'm suddenly somewhere else. Dumped back onto the sidewalk I was originally taken from. But now hundreds of pounds fatter and barely able to move after being strapped down for so long.

I'm found and people are astounded by what's happened to me, how massive I've become. They all talk about how strange it is someone would do this to me.

On top of that my mind is broken and all I crave is more.

maddifferent123

CW: Forcefeeding, kinda manipulation/corruption

You woke up late one morning to the feeling of my hands on your soft belly. You smiled at the sensation, slowly opening your eyes to greet me.

“Morni-”

As you were trying to speak, you were interrupted by a plastic tube entering your mouth. Swiftly after, you tasted the shake on your tongue. You weren’t expecting to get funneled first thing in the morning, and you were getting uncomfortably full very very quickly. But as you swelled with calories I leaned in to whisper encouragement into your ears. My hand caressed your gut, pressing in on all the right spots to relieve pressure and keep you gorging. Shutting your eyes, you submitted.

You were left groaning with discomfort, but I didn’t seem to care.

“Good job babe! Let’s watch a movie.”

Confused, you reluctantly let me pull you out of bed. I helped you waddle to the couch, where you plopped down with a huff.

You struggled to focus on what we were watching as I played with your belly affectionately, letting out soft coos when my hands relieved you. Then, the alarm on my phone went off. As I got up, you were confused. But you were worried when I returned with a plate of waffles.

“Babe please no, I’m gonna pop!”

I just chuckled and sat back down.

“Mmm, maybe~”

As I cut off a piece you whined softly. You knew pleading was pointless, but you were so fucking full. You just couldn’t.

For the first bite you obediently opened wide, chewing the mouthful slowly. I reached out and put a hand between your legs, gently caressing as a reward for your gluttony. After swallowing, you wheezed out a moan. Immediately, it was silenced by another forkful. I pleasured you further, rubbing your crotch faster as I forced the whole waffle in you bite by bite. You laid back, so full you could hardly breathe. And you watched, helplessly as I set my alarm for an hour. You realized exactly what I would be doing to you.

An hour spent in a stuffed stupor later, the phone alarm went off and I forced more food in you. For the rest of the day it repeated, ruthessly filling you so that your belly never shrunk from its round and turgid state. No, it swelled inch by inch as the day went on.

Finally, I permitted you to succumb to your food coma. The bliss of rest overwhelmed you, your belly finally getting a break…but it didn’t last. You woke next morning to a funnel in your mouth once again. You were still so heavy, but I was already forcing your stomach to stretch further.

For a week I made you my swollen food balloon, never allowing you the comfort of an empty belly. Your gut stretched further and further each day and more calories were pushed inside of you. You begged, afraid you were going to explode, but I just kept going. The only reprieve was when I pleasured you during your meals and when you finally passed out from food coma.

But after that week you woke up before me. You looked to me, so blissfully wrapped around your overfed frame, and gently tapped me awake. You were full still, absolutely bloated. But fuck, you felt so empty. I had made you addicted to being stuffed to the gills. If you weren’t on the verge of popping, what was the point…

“B-babe, can you get the funnel?”

mas-o-kissed

(Weight gain cw)

Sorry thinking about. Having to wear a work uniform but it comes in a little too small so you’re already feeling uncomfortable in it. But then your coworkers start bringing you lunches and snacks and you realize that the uniform is becoming a problem fast, as you’re starting to gain weight. There’s no way they don’t know what they’re doing, and you start to notice their gazes, their “accidental” touches. You have no choice, you need to get a new uniform in a size up… perhaps a few sizes to be safe.

But you’re not allowed a replacement. Not until you’re unable to wear it at all anymore. Not until it rips or pops the buttons. So you have to wear it as a reminder every day of how much bigger you’re getting, how much you’re changing, until your uniform bursts..