AnasAbdin
styofa doing anything
titsay
⁂
Claire Keane
wallacepolsom
tumblr dot com
blake kathryn
Jules of Nature
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Mike Driver
shark vs the universe
ellievsbear
taylor price
Monterey Bay Aquarium
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Love Begins
RMH
KIROKAZE
Stranger Things
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@heccalicious
A force feeding video, tied up, stuffed and bloated until i burst 🎈🪡🍩🍩
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Been thinking Abt feedee/feeder situations alot recently,,,
Great belly!
Current #1 fantasy: a feeder smoking me out as soon as I wake up and using the ensuing munchies to keep me eating all day, bringing me an endless parade of treats and making sure I stay high and happy and fuller and fuller and fuller until by the time evening rolls around my tummy is swollen taut, my shirt won't go down over my stomach and I can't get a full sentence out without burping 🥰
I don’t know what was bigger—my dinner, or my belly afterwards! Thoughts?
Consider, someone training to become a pastry chef and is usually quite slender but hyper fixates on recipes when they can't seem to get them right. So they make it a lot, again and again trying to perfect. The thing is, the only thing that they hate more than imperfection is being wasteful.
So, their weight jumps up every now and again as they're trying to figure out what they're getting in a recipe. Usually the weight ducks back down; their program is pretty rigorous and there's hardly enough time to think never mind time for sitting down and eating even regular meals.
They don't think about it much. Gaining weight in their program; hardly anyone bats an eye. Even the time they got really chubby after a stressful semester, no one said a word. It was easy enough to just update their wardrobe; what mattered was leaving with a references good enough to work for a pastry shop they actually wanted to be in.
However, they meet someone. Someone very cute with a very big appetite who's always excited to eat whatever this energetic chef puts in front of them. They're not eating to avoid being wasteful; they eat because they love to and because they can't resist the food that's being offered to them. So, they just eat what they want and however much as they want all the time. And their new partner isn't just a good pastry chef, they're actually kind of excellent. They'll be modest about it, but whenever they meet up at the school it's clear classmates, and even instructors, are a little bit in awe of this up and coming chef who seems to be mastering all these sugary delicacies and giving them memorable twists. In awe, and a little heavier for it, truth be told.
And...this amazing human, this pastry savant, loves to watch you eat. After the first few pounds and taking a bit of a look around their friend group you assumed they were just like this with everyone. But after the next few pounds, you start to think maybe...maybe that's not the case. And even as you feel you're already softer body start to plump up even more you can't stop, too eager to see the hungry look in their eyes as they watch your chubby fingers push little cakes into your mouth, chin doubling as you chew. When you suck your fingers clean they look like they're about to short-circuit completely, you can practically see the sparks of gears grinding to a halt behind their eyes. They're into this; but do they even know that they're into this? You're not sure you want to ask, not when you're sitting in this chair that your ass is already spilling over the sides of while you press hard circles into the side of your stomach, trying to make just a little more room. These macarons are to die for and you'd rather eat them first than ruin them with an embarrassing conversation.
"Babe, these are so good, I don't...what do you mean the flavour was off?" you ask. And as much as you do love the teetering oblivion of well-past-fullness, you actually do want to help.
"Didn't the filling seem a bit runny?"
"If it was it was still delicious," you say easily. You could probably eat their cooking for a hundred years and still not understand what was "wrong" with the recipe.
They swat at you playfully.
"I need to get these right," they say.
"You will," you assure. "And until then, I want to see these in my belly, not in the garbage like last time."
They frown and look away, but you're pretty sure they're blushing.
"Those were actually burnt."
"Hardly, you just needed to scrape the top off a bit."
"I only want to feed you the best."
You lean back and pat your belly affectionately. God, it really is a belly now, isn't it?
"You do," you say warmly, gesturing happily at the evidence. You slide your hand underneath the thick slice of skin that's showing from the bottom of the too small shirt you've been wearing only to bed now. Taking a handful you grasp at it and give a gentle shake. When you drop the flesh back down to your lap, you take a casual glance at them.
The look on their face. You can't help yourself now. You give your belly a slow, expansive rub the press a little on the top of the bulging dome. A small belch escapes past your lips. You look across the table for a reaction and oh, they look so sweet. Eyes lowered they're folding in on themselves a bit and fidgeting.
"Babe," you say gently. Okay. Maybe talking about this mattered. It probably mattered twenty pounds ago. Or maybe the fifteen before that. Or the first handful? You've known something was up the whole time, if you're being honest.
"Mmhm," they hum, still not looking at you and fussing with the pages of their flour and sugar stained notebook.
"You...it's okay to like this."
"Like what?" they ask quickly and a little too loudly before wincing at the sound of their own voice.
You sigh and shake your head.
"Never mind," you say, leaning gingerly over the expanse of your belly to reach for another macaron. Maybe they're not as into this as you thought. Which kind of begged the question of...were you into this.
You ponder the thought as you chew, one hand gently kneading your soft, doughy underbelly. You've never been skinny, not really. Honestly, you were kind of already chubby even before you started dating a pastry chef as though that wasn't going to lead to gaining a few pounds.
You swallow then gasp a little as you reach for yet another sweet, a little surprised at just how full you are. You lean back, sighing painfully as you fail to retrieve the sweet. You bring a hand up to the top of your bulging middle again and try to bring up some gas. There's little relief though. God, it wasn't just the macarons. They'd made danishes earlier in the day. Not because they were trying to perfect them, just because they knew you liked them. Your heart does a funny little jump as you think back to it. Then there was a late lunch with a friend, snacks on the way home and then dinner with this cutie. And now, fuck, now you'd eaten a whole try of macarons.
Maybe you were both kind of into this. A small moan escapes your lips as you struggle to breathe around the massively swollen curve of your full belly.
That's when you hear the smallest whimper from across the table and open your eyes just enough to see them cover their mouth.
"You're definitely into this," you say quietly, not trying to judge. How could you? The pain in your overtaxed gut was like heaven threatening to split open. It just...why? Why you?
"Yeah," they reply, barely above a whisper. "Uhm...I-I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
"You've gained like 50 pounds!" they say in an embarrassed rush. They're looking at you now and your heart sinks as you see the panic on their face. "I swear I didn't do it on purpose. I just...I'm--"
Sluggishly, you lift a thick arm and wave them off.
"It's okay. I'm kinda into it too. But let's just...be open with each other about it. And maybe...talk about it more later? I can hardly think right now," you huff out, groaning with your arms wrapped around your middle. You press your fingertips in as tightly as you can but you're so tight right now. Biting your lip you look up at your adoring partner, who looks like they're in the throes of an emotional turmoil tumultuous enough to rival what's going on in your gut.
"Really, it's alright. I like eating for you," you manage to squeeze out sleepily. They look unconvinced, which, given how the pain and pleasure is mingling together for you, you can understand that what you're expressing might look confusing. It was confusing. But you've done this enough times now to know that confusion and curiosity were just as good bedfellows as pain and pleasure.
You look across at the remaining three macarons. They'd been made to taste and look like little sugary watermelons and they're so cute that you know you're not going to be able to rest without finishing them.
"Babe," you say softly. "Can you feed me the last of those?"
@/stuffedbellymemes is a “closet” transphobe. (read screenshots left to right)
Over the past month or so, James and I have had nothing but pleasant and respectful conversations, so naturally when he mentioned his discomfort surrounding they/them pronouns, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I really didn’t want to have to do this, but when I think about all the other trans/nb people in our community who reblog his memes without a clue about what kind of person he really is, it turns my stomach.
The issue first came up when we were in a voice call and he misgendered me (unintentionally) with “she/her” multiple times. I tend to be shy the first time I VC with anyone, so I was too uncomfortable to bring it up until yesterday.
At the time, I didn’t blame him for doing so; my issue was less with how he treated me personally and more with the way he leveraged his history degree over me when I tried to explain that the gender binary is a very western, very white, very colonialist concept, and many nonwhite cultures both in and outside the U.S. often have third genders and sometimes even more. He went as far as to say the Indigenous two-spirit identity is bullshit and “Shakespeare made things up for a living, he shouldn’t be considered a reliable source; him using singular they/them pronouns doesn’t make their usage legitimate.” But the funny thing is, my mother was also a history major–she got a Masters degree in education and a Bachelors degree in history. And for all her faults (which I could spend a good week listing), she’s always told me “the biggest mistake someone who’s well-versed in historical events could ever make is considering themselves an authority on history.”
As for why the conversation in the screenshots above is so long-winded and confusing, I can’t say for sure. Maybe I wasn’t asking the right questions, or maybe he was intentionally trying to avoid said questions and sugarcoat his responses. But one thing’s for certain: James actively refuses to use singular they/them pronouns for anyone, and believes using a trans/nb person’s correct pronouns (even just he/him or she/her) is “a hassle” at best.
This is hard for me to do, and kind of scary, too. He probably has several thousand more followers than I do, and I’m well aware that any one of them might try to suicide bait or even doxx me out of spite just for trying to protect myself and others from transphobia. Believe me–I used to really enjoy some of his content, so this is a huge letdown. Part of me wanted to quietly block him and move on with my life, but I couldn’t do that in good conscience while knowing other trans/nb feedists out there are blissfully unaware of his so-called “personal political beliefs.” And despite the cruel and harmful behavior he’s displayed, please don’t send James anon hate or threats, I don’t condone harrassment of any kind.
(I’m tagging @feedismbatman in hopes that they’ll help me spread awareness)
only good boys eat till they cant move
Big bellied babes (ft. Venus voring someone)
Firm, but still soft
Soft and squishy
Finally remembered to post some of my piled up stuff :p
If you're a trans man into feedism
Please reblog this!
I wanna follow more trans guys like me!!
me: i want to stop gaining
me two days later: i want to be so fucking fat
hi i want bowser big thanks
Tummy Asks: Cute Edition
hello fiends. have some Soft Asks. thanks to local fiend extraordinaire @tiny-tum for coming up with the 😈question and helping me with the rest!
Food
☀️What are your favorite foods to indulge in when it’s hot outside? ❄️Favorite foods to indulge in when it’s cold outside? 🍦Name one food you associate with a good memory. 😍Name one food you can’t resist even if you’re already full. 🥘What’s the most delicious meal you’ve ever had? 🍬What’s the most sweets you’ve ever eaten in one sitting?
Feeling
🌹Talk about a time you were stuffed and it felt really good. 🥀Talk about a time you were stuffed and it didn’t feel so good. 🍽Talk about a time you were really hungry and ate something very satisfying. 🥧Talk about a time food made you feel loved. 💤Do you get sleepy when you’re full? What kind of food makes you sleepiest? 🎈What’s the most swollen your tummy has ever felt?
Comfort
💕Would you rather give a tummy rub or receive one? ✨Are there certain rubbing motions or places you can press on your tummy that feel really good when you’re full? 🛋Would you prefer to be in a certain position while getting a belly rub? (e.g. lying down, snuggled beside a caretaker, lying in a lap?) ♨️Do you enjoy warmth on your belly? Any preferred methods? 🍵If you had a tummyache, how would you want to be comforted? 😈 Are you more likely to eat until you’re achy if you know you’ll get a tummy rub? Or do you know someone who would do that?
Company
🐝Is it cuter if someone is openly complaining about how full they are or trying to hide it? 🦋Is it cuter if someone is super happy with how much they ate or a little uncomfortable and needy for cuddles? 💌 If you were stuffed, would you rather have someone tease you for being silly or immediately show concern? 💬If you were stuffed, what could someone say to you that would make you melt? What about if they were the stuffed one? 😵Has anyone ever done something unintentionally kinky in front of you? 🙊Have you ever told anyone (excluding people you’ve met through the kink community) about your kink?
