hey! so apologies in advance because this went super long and I don’t at all want to make you uncomfortable with a more sexual ask in your inbox if that’s not something you’d enjoy reading. so feel free to disregard or just keep this for yourself, of course. but you posted about one of your fantasies being having a fat pad big enough to completely bury you down there and I love love love that detail about more extreme weights so I thought I’d write a bit of a fantasy about you getting to that size to share with you! hope you enjoy if you do read it!
I think it starts with a little teasing. Grabbing your fat pad, kissing it, biting it playfully when I’m lovingly teasing you about how fat you’re getting with me around. Even at your current size I’m sure it’s not super easy to see and reach down there, so once we really start taking your weight gain seriously I’d tell you that your fupa is mine to take care of.
As you start gaining more quickly, the pillow of fat starts to swell along with the rest of you. I’d pack you into tight joggers so I can accentuate the bulge of the pad when you have to be clothed. Constantly sneaking little rubs and grabs and pokes to remind you that under your immense belly is a second growing glob of fat.
At first I wouldn’t say much of anything as it gets fatter. I’d tell you it’s cute and chunky and keep you focused on the growth in your belly and chest and sides, all the while I’m watching your length start to sink away. I don’t tell you that it’s taking less of my hand to stroke your remaining length; I don’t mention that I’m starting to have to pull it back to get enough of a grip to reward you after your nightly stuffing.
Then one day it’s almost fully buried when you’re soft. I’d take a picture or hold up a mirror so you can see that it’s just the very tip and your balls left out now. I’m sure that wouldn’t have you soft for long, but I think that would motivate you to eat even more intensely knowing you’ve buried yourself most of the way already.
True to my word, I take care of your fupa. I gently shave it to keep it smooth like you prefer it, lotion it to keep it soft, scrub it down for you in the shower. You touching yourself down there doesn’t even occur to you — any struggle or inconvenience is taken care of as you focus on eating and feeling good.
Until one day when I can tell your belly/thigh/fupa convergence has ballooned enough that you truly won’t be able to touch yourself. I overfeed you a little extra that day, pepper you with compliments and kisses, watching you get more and more worked up. The little remaining length emerges from its soft, pillowy cave, eager and warm. I’d rub you a little and then pull away, telling you to try and take care of things yourself.
You can’t manage much of a struggle at your size anyways, but you’d pretty quickly realize it’s not physically possible for you to touch yourself anymore. And then I get to watch you squirm under the pleasure of that revelation, your throbbing length barely visible, until I give in and once again take care of your pleasure for you.
And after that you relish the dependency on me for everything down there as much as I enjoy taking care of you. Your weight climbs, your rolls swell, your folds deepen. I watch your pad rest on your tip when I lift your belly, then finally spill over and completely engulf you down there.
I’d build up the news with a marathon stuffing session that leaves you swollen and aching for release. Plates of food, pinching and poking every inch of you, praising your appetite and your body at every turn. It’s hours into overstuffing and overstimulating you that I ask if you’re turned on. You sputter out that of course you are, knowing I’ve been winding you up all day. I’d take a picture of the smooth mound of fupa that completely hides whether you’re aroused or not.
I’d like to think that’d be enough to send you over the edge right there, without any contact beyond the soft, warm embrace of your own pad — but I’d help you get there (with some digging) if you still needed me to help you celebrate the gluttonous ecstasy of that moment.
And now that you’re buried it’s a constant game of teasing and admiring and searching to find where you’re buried down there as you balloon heavier and heavier, feeling your body sink into the mass of your own bulk, just like you sank into your pad down there. Maybe you ask me to show you a picture of it, maybe you relish never seeing yourself down there again.
And the bigger your fupa gets, the more attention it needs and deserves. I keep it clean and smooth and soft, my hands and mouth constantly reminding you how big it’s gotten. Vibrating toys tucked into the right folds down there to constantly keep a baseline of pleasure humming along. Loving that you’ve buried yourself in fat like this and let me take care of you so intimately as you balloon.
Gosh I hope you enjoy reading this because it was so fun to write out! If you do really like this, you can just keep it in your inbox and post something mentioning it or whatever you prefer! I’d love to write some more for you sometime if you keep sharing your cute fantasies :)
Oh my god fupanon this is so good
I’m also obsessed with the idea of someone taking care of something for me and then teasing me about fattening me out of my ability to do it, so this is driving me absolutely insane 😵💫
This is one of the hottest things I’ve ever read, and it’s genuinely mind boggling that you took the time to write this for me. Thank you and please please please feel free to share anymore thoughts like this <3
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