mafa @mafa7777777777 - Tumblr Blog

All I know is food.

Can we get an update on your lil heart tattoo on your hip? Is it completely engulfed by your fat now?

I think it’s such a hot little detail of my gain. I love the way my stretch marks warped it. And the best part is that my belly hangs low enough now you can’t ever see it unless you lift it up or I’m laying down

gainingbunnyy

One more because I cant believe what Im doing to myself

livestockprincess

being pitied by everyone when i’m 500 pounds not able to do what other girls in their 20s are doing. everyone being extra nice to me, almost too nice because they know being this young and so big has gotta be hard. i must be having trouble losing weight, i mean i’ve gotta have some serious mental problems to have went from being the quiet nice normal sized girl to a big tub of lard so quick. you’ve seen my 600 pound life, that’s how it is on there. there’s no way i’m going home and chugging down melted ice cream with a vibrator shoved up in my giant fupa because it gives me a full body orgasm. no, my life’s just been harder than others. i couldn’t have done it on purpose. someone like me wouldn’t have done that *stares at you like an idiot*

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melodymooncake

a jiggle in every step :3

livestockprincess

i love when i’m chugging something near bursting, but a switch flips in my brain mid gulp that takes away that desire to stop and replaces it with this mindless overwhelming absolute need to keep going until my cunt is completely soaked and i’m whispering “more” despite the fact that my belly is taut as a drum. to think that normal people will never experience that is hard for me to understand but makes it all the more pathetic and sensual

livestockprincess

what happened to me…?

livestockprincess

i wanna be pitied and babied for being so fat i’m unable to do things like buckle my seatbelt or tie my shoe. i want someone to say “poor girl” and run to help me even though i did it to myself. i love enablers

livestockprincess

thinking about how when i move out using exclusively OF to subsidize my rent i'll basically be trapped as a growing fat girl whether i like it or not. i know for a fact i'll lose control as soon as i get that first taste of freedom to order doordash at any hour of the day, not have to worry about cleaning up my fast food bags before everyone gets home, buy a shower chair and a rolly stool to make things easier on myself, and to finally be able to make my twisted fantasies a reality. i can see it all going south so fast when i accidentally gain 100 more lbs and that fear of just how real what i’m doing to myself starts settling in. but if i wanna keep living on my own, i really have no choice but to continue gaining or how else am i gonna keep a roof over my head? and losing that comfort of binge eating and soft fat swallowing my frame would send me straight into panic. i'd be way too ashamed to move back home and reveal how i’ve been living, and i’d be too spoiled and conditioned to a mindless sedentary lifestyle being handed right to me that the thought of getting a real job would make me burst into tears.. just an endless cycle of using addiction and orgasms to drown out those feelings to make a living until i’m too big to care anymore. maybe being on my own with no one to stop me from losing control isn't the wisest decision, but isn't it sooo tempting to see what could happen?

livestockprincess

Thinking about what it must be like for anyone who doesn't know about feedism to be watching you blow up in real time!

i think abt this very very often myself.. like ik my coworkers were so fucking concerned for me right up to the point before i ended up quitting my job. god only knows what they said abt me after i did. i would literally be at the checkout noticeably fatter every. single. night. with a half gallon of ice cream and junk food in my arms and i’m 99.999% sure they were whispering about me every time i came up there (reasonably so). i credit so much of my gains to working at a grocery store having easy access to that shit. on top of that, i’d be stopping at taco bell or mcdonald’s every other night ordering enough food for 3 people after i got off. like between february-august i blew TF up right in front of their eyes. i was constantly having to buy new work pants and bending over to pick stuff up was getting quite challenging and super fucking embarrassing for them and for customers to watch. walking in from the parking lot, which i could never do now at the speed i was then, had me huffing and puffing more and more every day but was the only reason my mobility wasn’t as shit as it is now. idk, the whole thing feels like a fever dream looking back on it. every day was work, come home, get so high i couldn’t speak, chug ice cream, and masturbate until i came & passed tf out. it was the only think i looked forward to in a day and was soo rewarding after being on my feet for 8 hours lol. my boss would constantly tell me how worried she was about me and whenever i’d complain about anythingggg she’d say “maybe it’s your heart” or something abt eating habits 😭 not to mention one of my fav coworkers/friends slowly stopped speaking to me as this was happening. it went from us having hour long conversations to her saying “hi” as quick as she could and running away to avoid me. it was an experience for them and me for sure

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livestockprincess

laying in bed sososo sleepy and absolutely exhausted thinking about what a strenuous day i had, and then i realized that my idea of “strenuous” is baking cinnamon rolls, stuffing myself, cleaning the dishes/mess, and taking a bath. all of these tasks combined took me over 7 hours to complete and that’s mainly bc i took so many breaks when i get lightheaded & out of breath lollll which happens more than i’d like to admit.. keep in mind, this was a busy busy day for me. i’m usually just stuffing myself and laying around, maybe unloading the dishwasher AT MOST.. the baking part rlly took a toll on my poor little body:( having a chair in the kitchen rlly comes in handy when my hips start aching. which also happens very frequently oops

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gettingsofter

WE ARE SO BACK

after months of jaw pain & struggling to eat the foods i wanted to eat, i was finally able to get surgery done! despite the soreness, i feel amazing

will definitely still need time to heal, but i'm very excited to eat all the yummy food i've been missing out on ^^

#gettingsofter

paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles

Full

I can hardly breath. My stomach hurts. I’m so full. I ate too much. I cannot imagine getting up from the couch. My belly weighs me down. I feel so groggy.

I have to focus on my breathing. I’m so thoroughly beached all I can do is cradle my fat, blubbery gut spread over my lap. It’s dominating my evenings recently. It demands I feed it until I can’t think straight.

I am sitting upright, in a sluggish daze. I’m too full to lay down comfortably, but so, so exhausted. It’s taking all my energy to just digest all this food, and breathe correctly. Burps keep escaping my lips. Every time I press out more air, I get a momentary relief. I’m so swollen, so bloated, so distended. I’m completely overladen with delicious food. So totally engorged with my failed restraint.

I keep fantasizing about eating more cookies. Today I added about 32 soft baked cookies of various kinds to my evening feeding. I ate so many I lost count, but some still remain on the table in front of me. But that table is so, so, so far away.

Leaning forward feels impossible. I still probably couldn’t reach. I just can’t reach past my belly right now. I keep trying to talk myself into moving. Just standing up and getting my cookies. Just a little effort. But I’m too heavy. Much too heavy now.

I keep sipping my drink. I can barely reach it, and it’s running out. I’m thirsty, but I also need to be sure I fill all remaining space. That’s what my belly requires, after all.

My belly is so warm, and so squishy. It’s like I have a personal pillow attached at all times. A giant, soft, jiggly beanbag just hanging over my waistband, or between my legs, or into sinks. It feels so good when I lift it up and it completely overfills my arms. It spills over my forearms and flops over my hands as I hold the meaty underside. I love bouncing it up and down, and letting it drop. I love how I have a deep, plunging overhang and a thick upper roll beneath my tits. I love how said roll is one of many that are piled up on my sides and connected around to my back.

My entire torso is covered in a hefty, thick, sagging layer of fat. I’m a butterball, a tub of lard, a fleshy sack of dough. It encases me, buries me, crushes me. It’s no small part of why I’m pinned to this couch.

I’ve outgrown tape measures, seat belts, booths, and many shirts. All thanks to this gluttonous, greedy, grotesquely overfed gut. It’s in control. I’m just carrying it to its next meal. I’m just making sure the food gets where it needs to go.

It needs to be so much bigger.

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