Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@hubbahchubba
Hi I'm not a spam blog!! My Tumblr just won't save any changes I do to it for some reason, including a pfp and background.
This is also a side blog so I can't follow & like directly from here, still do feel free to interact/DM ❤️😉🐷
Thinking about an evil feeder feeding me an edible before a doctor’s appointment “for my anxiety,” and joining me for the appointment because I’m kinda zoned out in a bit of a pleasure haze, also stuffed with fast food from the drive here. I’d barely register them quietly “explain” to the doctor that they just can’t get me to stop eating, even though it was them that plopped a bag of delicious greasy fast food in my lap on our way to this office. I’m not too worried about what the doctor thinks, I’m mostly just thinking about the milkshakes my feeder promised me on the way home after the appointment… 🤤
I fantasize a lot about perma-intox feedist scenarios. A feedee who’s ultimate fantasy is to turn off their brain completely by being high 24/7 and lying in bed stuffing their face all day. Finally getting a feeder who’s into the same thing and makes enough to allow them to turn into a weed-addicted pig who can’t even focus long enough to count the number of pizza slices they’ve eaten. Just constantly high, hungry and horny, gaining pounds by the hundreds each year until they’re near bed bound from complete inactivity, not aware of the date or time and just seeking out their next hit, their next meal, their next orgasm. Brain turning as soft as their body is while their loving feeder eagerly enables every moment of it, ensuring absolute comfort for their stupid, fat pet, baking weed into every dessert and ensuring their mouth is always full of food or a blunt. Permanent, endless indulgence and hedonism brought to life in the form of pillowy rolls and heavy stretch marks from years of nonstop eating, eyes bloodshot and underwear stained with the remnants of countless orgasms from rutting into their fat gut while their feeder uses their huge body to get off. God
happiest marriage
Reblog this if you'd like to see some horny anons :3
If you’re my feedee, your life gets very simple — because I take care of everything. All I need from you are a few basic responsibilities:
1. You eat what I give you.
No guilt, no hesitation, no negotiating. I plan it, I prepare it, I bring it to you.
Your job is to enjoy it and get softer for me.
2. You play your games and stay at your computer. That’s your little world.
You can game, stream, scroll, post pics — especially progress photos. People online get to see what I’m doing to you.
3. You will work, but it stays at that desk. Home only. Headset on, belly touching the edge of the table, snacks nearby.
I don’t want you out running around when you should be growing.
4. You do small chores, and that’s it. Just enough movement to waddle around the house, to make you feel useful —
but nothing that interrupts your main purpose. Watching you try to bend, reach, or catch your breath is part of the charm.
5. Everything else? I handle it.
Errands, planning, money, cooking, scheduling, cleaning, all of it. Your life becomes soft, easy, structured, and taken care of.
Your existence becomes very simple:
Eat. Relax. Grow. Be mine. As long as you follow these rules, I’ll take care of absolutely everything else —
because a good feedee deserves to be spoiled, managed, and adored.
pregnancy would be much hotter if it didnt result in babies. i think you should be able to knock someone up and they get bigger/milkier/etc but then nothing happens
happiest in da worldddd ;3
summertime tradition!!!
Creampuff 🍦
Gif by: Shabingad
Imagine if you will. Being 200, 300, maybe even 400 pounds bigger. Any number your devious mind can think of.
Your body a playground of soft fat. You try to move but you’re weighed down by your immense girth. Any clothes you’ve had are long since too small. Just a mindless blob of your former self, completely helpless. Deep down though, you love it.
Every extra inch is a turn on, every bite makes you need more. Not want, a need. A primal urge to grow larger.
Picture your body fill out as it makes room for all the fattening food you’ll consume. Your arms; like custard pillows, barely able to lift, unable to feed yourself. Your boobs; so swollen and sagging no bra could ever hold them, at least, not for long. Your legs; completely encased in lard and blown up to the size of holiday hams. Not that you do much walking anymore. Your butt; massive. Round and dimpled from all the excess cellulite packed in it. Your vagina; inaccessible. You try to reach but there’s too much in the way. Encased in a thick padding, your fupa takes up handfuls. Your belly; a cascading waterfall of beautiful fat. Always slightly taught from the amount of food you shovel in. Stretch marks throughout, always growing larger.
Any movement you make now sends a wave of jiggles through your entire body. You know there is no going back, not that you would. A body truly made for pleasure.
I desperately want to help you reach this. Becoming the beautiful pampered cow you’re meant to be.
This is what came to mind when i read that 🥴
(Video is from meatheadart on twitter 💕 )
I love a stretchy, form-fitting [4xl] t-shirt that clings and shows off my lard in the best way 😋
Here’s an update on how this shirt fits now [+25lbs]
Hanging out more and more 🐷
1st - 370lbs
2nd - 395lbs
3rd - 415lbs
430lbs
+75lbs from first gif 😅🐷
Since this post is getting traction again, I figured I’d add the installment from my fattest ever 🐷
taken in 2023 - 473lbs, 100+lbs from the first installment
Guess who.
I want to gaslight a feedee they day they move in.
You must be so tired! Rest up. I'll unpack everything.
Force the issue the next day. Don't you remember? You're tired. You need to build up your strength. Eat. It's important.
Make them say it back to you. "I'm tired, I don't think I should get up."
Very good. So good. I want you to explore the city as much as either of us, but you're soooo tired. Stay in bed. Again.
Be overprotective. Be overbearing. I CAN'T sit back and watch you struggle about. You're still so weak. And tired. I can see it in your eyes. You need my help.
It's your identity now. Since moving in, you've only associated these walls and this room and your bed with being *tired*. You are tired. Exhausted.
Rest and recover. Here's a walker for when I'm gone. Take the burden off a little bit. Maybe a wheelchair for when I'm here. One, two, three steps and now you can be pushed to the bathroom.
And then back to bed.
Soul mate behavior is the feeder going to the big grocery store and buying out the ENTIRE stock of whatever favorite snack the feedee likes.
Happy anniversary! Here. I love you SO much, you are SO cute, you are SO fat, that you are the ONLY princess in town who gets to have oreos. They are all yours. Literally all of them. You're so special that I disrupted a supply chain pattern to show my appreciation. Don't feel bad for the thousands of people who can't get oreos this week, I know you're still going to eat them all.
Love the idea of force anal training a guy who’s “definitely straight” until he’s so desperate for cock that he can’t even function without a huge dildo so far up his ass you can see it bulge in his stomach.
