Could use a hand. There’s still food left can you feed it to me and rub my belly 🥵
Go follow my new account 🥰
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@nappingqndburtios
Could use a hand. There’s still food left can you feed it to me and rub my belly 🥵
Go follow my new account 🥰
really in the mood to destroy someone’s waistline
@TheGluttonQueen on Feabie
At 125lbs, she began to loosen her habits. A night out here and there with drinks and a meal that tasted too good with the effects of a nice alcohol buzz. Her outfits fit just fine, and she was just enjoying the lifestyle of a young, attractive 20 something.
At 150lbs, she went fewer and fewer mornings without a breakfast of some sort before going into work. Waiting until lunch used to be the move, but the 2 for $2 breakfast sandwich value was criminal to pass up. Her work outfits were always modest, but even the flowy office attire she liked couldn't hide a softer belly that began to appear when sitting down.
At 175lbs, a daily vending machine trip helped supplement her lunch. A nice, simple salad pairs well with a bag of chips. At the end of each week, that's five more bags of chips than a chubby girl can handle without it showing up on her waist. Sizing up was necessary, as mediums don't quite work with a fuller chest and a widening ass.
At 200lbs, ordering takeout was a nice treat a few nights a week. Usually the order wasn't huge, and if it were there would be leftovers. But 5-6 slices of pizza a few nights a week is hard to overcome with a sedentary lifestyle. She found a cozy spot on the couch and started eating, deciding that her thighs were big enough to safely balance a plate with her food on it.
At 225lbs, she began filling her water bottle at work with something sweeter. Lemonade, sweet tea, or maybe even a luxury drink from the coffee shop. Drinking calories wouldn't help her fit into her jeans, but nobody questioned the fat girl of the office having such delights in her routine.
At 250lbs, she wasn't eating TWICE as much as her formerly skinny self, right? Her rounder face suited her well. Cute, chubby cheeks came with every smiling photo she was a part of. So was the plate of food in front of her when many of these photos were taken. It's standard fare to fix a full plate of food at social outings.
At 275lbs, trips to the nearby Wendy's during lunch breaks were common. Two big sandwiches, a frosty, and a coke. It was just harder to go all day without feeling that tightness in her belly. It was a rare feeling a few years ago, but now it gave her enough daily joy to not care about the dull adult lifestyle that she found her and her friends were becoming accustomed to anymore.
At 300lbs, that takeout order either got bigger or never survived to become leftovers. There used to be more shame about passing up a few nights out each week with her friends, but the daily routine of sitting at work all day to passing out on the couch after a binge and a joint scratched the itch she felt every day. Another day, another mindless evening watching cartoons and satisfaction from a reflexive impulse for something greasy and cheesy.
At 325lbs, her work chair was too tight. It pinched her hips for a while, but god it was really digging in there now. She would wince every time she got in and out of her chair to grab a donut from the break room - donuts that she brought for the team on Wednesdays to lift spirits. Well, it worked for her at least. The donuts usually hit just the spot after her breakfast sandwiches and hash browns. Hash browns that came around the same time her 2x clothes started looking inappropriate.
At 350lbs, she fumbled with her seat belt. It was uncomfortable to wear, but especially after a night at the AYCE sushi place she visited on Tuesdays, they had a good deal you know. God, the belt was really squeezing on her belly. "Just this time," she told herself as she clicked it in behind her so the annoying beeping would stop.
At 375lbs, she started bringing in a bag of snacks to munch on during the work week. Hunger wasnt the reason so much as it was the need to satisfy the oral fixation with food. Eating just to eat, sure, but it gave her a nice steady dose of those feel good endorphins to have something salty or sweet on her tongue during the day.
At 400lbs, the trip to the grocery store kicked her ass. In her defense, it was a long process anymore. Her cart took much longer to fill up than others, and she often had to wait on her feet (sitting nicely in her wide set crocs) when someone else was in the aisle. She couldn't squeeze past so easily anymore when her hips took up half the aisle. By the time she got to the checkout line, she was leaning heavily on the cart. Her breasts were so damn heavy. It brought a little relief to her situation, because ugh is it uncomfortable to be sweaty in public.
At 425lbs, her dinner binges were supplemented by a midnight run to Taco Bell here and there. She loved their sodas, and she couldn't be bothered to worry about her belly digging deeply into the steering wheel and her seat belt extender. It was more difficult to reach over to grab the bag of food from the window, but mainly because her heavy arms and heaving chest prevented her from twisting too easily when her legs were otherwise wedged in the car.
At 450lbs, her job performance started to decline. It's hard to keep a sharp handle on things when she's constantly focused on the way that new office chair can't quite let her thighs spread out enough for her belly. Let alone the aching feeling in her belly when she leaned forward to type. It was getting harder to reach, and pressing against the desk just made her stuffed belly feel so damn uncomfortable on top of being squeezed into her 5x pants. She couldn't wait to get home and flop onto her couch and free herself from discomfort.
At 475lbs, she applied for disability. The walk from her apartment to her car, and then into her office was the extent of moving she did on a day to day basis. It was an ordeal. An ordeal on top of nursing her addiction when she ordered food into the office each day. Heading back out to her car under the hot summer weather wasn't anything but asking her to be a sweaty mess when she got back to her seat. Besides, getting fired was the alternative to all this. Putting in the minimum each day was no longer going to be tolerated with the amount of mistakes she was making.
At 500lbs, she was free to stay at home all day. No reasons to leave except for food, which was all delivered to her anyway. Glutting herself in the mornings was usually a weekend hobby that now spilled into her daily life. No more holding back to keep up appearances. One morning, she got five breakfast sandwiches. The next, a breakfast platter from IHOP. Anything to get her to that buzzy, happy place as early in the day as possible. It didn't matter anymore that she couldn't fit in the seating at her favorite restaurants, the hassle of getting there couldn't justify it.
At 525lbs, her breathing was ragged as she returned from the front door with her two pizzas. She didn't "sit down" anymore, it was an unceremonious dropping of her body backwards into the couch. Even the new one she had purchased was starting to give though. It was already caving in, but now it creaked and popped when she heaved her fat leg onto the couch. God. It can't be good to have your belly hanging off the side of a couch, can it?
At 550lbs, life was hard. The house was a mess. Trash bags filled the walkway near the back door. It was a temporary fix, but the few steps down to that doorway were scary to someone so big. She wasn't even sure if she could squeeze out that more narrow doorway anyway. The carpets had stains and crumbs, and her laundry pile was easier to recycle through than lugging all of it to the washing machine. None of this raised alarm, it all happened gradually under the haze of another family sized binge. Decisions had less considerations in that state, a state that was becoming perpetual.
At 575lbs, she fell. It was a normal morning like the others. She shuffled to end of her weakening and weakening bed, taking breaks along the way as she wheezed at the effort of shifting her sagging, lumpy legs under the weight of her belly. After a few minutes of blowing air, she heaved herself up to go to the bathroom. She had to hurry if she wanted to finish by the time her food arrived. But her foot got caught on a bag filled with takeout containers, and she lacked the strength to correct herself before falling onto her side.
At 600lbs, she had a caretaker. Without one, she would never be able to survive. Her ankle was messed up, bad. Even with physical therapy, it was known that walking would be basically out of the question with all the excess weight she carried. It was easier to have someone come over and take care of her needs. And, luckily, the guy they sent over to her was handsome. Very funny, non judging, and even spared an extra hour of his time to keep her company while she ate. There was mention of a diet plan when she was at the hospital, but the caretaker never seemed to follow up on it.
At 625lbs, he suggested diapering. Even with a walker and his helping hand, getting up to go to the bathroom was painful and exhausting. She felt ashamed, humiliated. Was it because she had a crush on him? Shouldn't it be because she was so fat? He was so gentle, taking her fat hand in his and talking through her concerns. She would only use it for when she had to pee. He'd make sure she could get up to take care of anything truly messy. It would help though! Getting up 1-2 times a day was much better than 3-4 times. It was never in his mind to think anything other than her best interest.
At 650lbs, she asked him about his love life. He was the only person keeping her attached to the world at this point, and it didn't seem too inappropriate. Just some playful conversation to get to know her caretaker. She waited until after he finished bringing her a new sheet to cover her form. Clothes, if they even fit, were too difficult. It was dehumanizing, but since he already had to wash her and check out her backside for sores and the like, it was hardly anything new. He's single?? He put his hand on my swollen calf when he was talking about how hard it can be to find a good match. Don't read into it. Don't. He's smiling at you. Stop. It's his job. Look at you. There's no way.
At 675lbs, she was crying. She soiled herself at night and had to wait until morning for him to change her. The worse of it was trying to get out of bed. It was hard. Maybe impossible. Maybe not. That wasn't a thought to dwell on. It was horrifying. He came over per usual and saw the state she was in. She was defeated. Broken. Embarrassed. It pulled at his heartstrings. She was a good person, and to see her so saddened was difficult for him to process. He took care of her, and she wouldn't stop apologizing while he rolled her, wiped her down, and helped her settle down. All he could do was look into her eyes. It was as exposed as a person could be, and that emotion was all conveyed between their locked gaze. He fumbled some words. Who knew what to say in this situation? Then, against his better judgement, he leaned in and kissed her. At first, it was long and deep, and then she lifted a bloated arm and touched his shoulder before they poured all their feelings into a passionate embrace.
At 700lbs, he moved in. Taking care of her was a round the clock effort, and being alone anymore was becoming scary. Her oxygen and CPAP couldn't afford to go out without someone there to hastily fix things. Her need for food only intensified with his presence. Keeping a snack or drink at her side had become such a normal that to go without for a few hours would take away the sluggish, bloated feeling that kept the days from being boring, well, even more boring for an immobile woman. She gazed down at her form. Her belly forced her legs far apart, much further apart than any usual person could handle, but years of pressure on them from her belly gave her a paradoxical level of flexibility. Since she was propped up, she could steal a look at her feet. Fat, rounded, and discolored. Where the rolls began and ended on her legs was difficult to discern. Her chest hung down, splayed to her sides because of her aforementioned gut. Anymore, her arms and boobs hung sloppily together. If she lifted her arms to the side, some air could breathe in the newly created space, but that was a chore in itself. Her eyes picked up as the door clicked, that must be him returning from the gym and with more fast food, her third order of the day.
At 725lbs, she started to feel unwell. Having restless legs is a silly concept when they can't even move, but they bothered her more. Rolling over in bed was taking a greater toll. It was hard enough on a full stomach, but the strain of holding up a tiny skeleton buried in fat was making her red in the face every time he hoisted her around. She could see it in his eyes. Even he was beginning to question how much longer he'd be able to move her around. They sat in silence while watching a movie, she eating from a second box of pizza, and he caressing her mattress sized belly.
At 750lbs, she started having some episodes. Pain in her chest. Dizziness. Foggy thoughts. Her blood pressure spiked the other day, and he had to quickly administer some medical remedies. Her legs were...worse. The skin was getting hard where the blobs of fat hanging from them sat lifeless all day. He kept her legs wrapped and moisturized, but it could never offset the trash bag of empty food containers she watched him carry out each day. They talked about getting her a crane, something to help her manage being cleaned without spiking her heart rate and triggering any medical event. Even her arms and sides were beginning to get irritated, seeing as how moving her arms from touching her torso was no longer in the cards.
At 775lbs, they both had an idea that things would be coming to an end soon. Her face always had a red tint to it as she gasped for air from the exertion of the crane lifting her shapeless body out of bed. Even without physically moving, the effect of that much weight shifting around wore her out. He never wavered though. More food, often fed to her by hand. If she knew how she sounded in her sleep, she would never believe anyone would keep feeding her. Her snores were choppy, gargled. Choking in her sleep from simply breathing. It led to her being exhausted. If she wasn't eating, she would be dozing off into another fit of unsatisfactory, unrelieving sleep.
At 800lbs, he woke with a start in the middle of the night. Her monitors were starting to bug out. Her oxygen levels were dropping. Quick, shallow breaths were all she could manage. She was unconscious, perhaps because her body was in panic survival mode. Fighting for air that had to go to every pound of fat on her body. This was it, he thought. It was never this bad. He gently slapped her face a few times to jostle her awake. She came to, disoriented and senseless.
"Huff...whats...phew, honey, are...you..."
"Shhhh, my love. I'm sorry for waking you, I was just checking out your vitals.
"They...hufff. Um, *wheeze*, ok?"
He bit his tongue a bit.
"Yes, dear, everything is...stable. Listen, I wanted to get a drink of water from the kitchen. How about I bring in some of that cake from last night? I figure, since you are awake now..."
oh don't worry, i wouldn't dream of *actually* working out, im much too fat for that
Get so fat you become a pathetic mess of a boy, unable to pleasure himself✨
God do I need this belly to be so much bigger
Oh Baby, you need to sit down I could hear your heavy breathing from the next room over. If you where hungry you should of let me know and not try to get up and make something yourself.
I know I was doing something but I’ll drop what ever I’m doing for you, you and your comfort always comes first. We both wanted you this big and I’m not going to let you waste any precious calories on doing something as silly as you cooking for yourself that’s why I’m here, to cook for you and provide for you.
Now why don’t I help you waddle back to the couch we’ll put on one of your favorite shows and I’ll prepare you a nice big meal to make up for any calories you may of burnt and curl up next to you making sure you get plenty of belly rubs while you eat. Now how does that sound?
one day i will have a partner that enjoys eating as much as i do cooking. they will send me recipes they want to try and ill make them for them while they get to laze around ~
then i can sit on their lap, feeding them by hand until they are full and i can rub their gut to help them digest, they will fall asleep eventually and be woken up later by the smell of their favorite freshly baked pastries and i can look at them lovingly while they finish the entire tray 🥺
they will gain weight but its just physical proof of how much i love them!!!
i just want to pamper someone and indulge their every desire 😭…
“Aw baby, are you scared of taking up space?” I ask after seeing you try to keep your legs together. With how much your thighs and belly have grown it is almost impossible.
I slide my hands under your gut and lift it up a little bit before sitting down behind you, “come on, make yourself comfortable”. You stop sucking in and spread your legs, your belly spilling in between your legs. You have gotten so big that you can’t help but feel embarrassed, and I can tell too because your face is flushed.
The embarrassment will not last for long because I have already started worshiping your gut, it is impossible to keep my hands off of it, “you have been getting so big for me darling, look at what I have done to you”. I notice you have closed your eyes to fully enjoy the sensation of my hands wandering all over you. “This is not good, if you keep eating like this you will only get fatter… It is time to stop pigging out, right?”
Before you even get a chance to answer I have already started shoving homemade pastries in your mouth, while grabbing your side with my other one… “Look at all of this fat baby, you are turning into a hog” I say before feeding you another portion. That is all it took. You are now whining and eating even faster.
I can tell you are shifting around because the entire couch is moving under your weight. Whenever this happens it means that you are aroused. How could you not? You love being reminded just how far gone you are. I retract my hands and now resort to only feeding you, “baby you should really stop before it is too late, what if you become too fat to workout? What if you end up unable to get up from the couch?” Another bite, I can tell you are growing increasingly desperate for my touch. You are now using your spare hand to feed yourself whenever you are done with what I am holding. Are you trying to impress me? Adorable.
You are letting your inner hog show, your shirt is riding up and you have crumbs falling onto your chest, “what are you doing to yourself? You have turned into such a fat hedonistic pig”.
You let out a moan before shoving even more food in your mouth. You try to take my hand and guide it towards your crotch, but I can’t even help you. Your fat pad has grown too much.
You see… The problem is you are already too far gone to pleasure while sitting, and I don’t plan on letting you lay down until you finish every last bite.
So keep showing me what you’ve become and eat up for me, okay? 💞
some days, I want to be enormous, with my slender lover mischievously making me even bigger
other days, I want to be trim and toned, teasing my soft, heavy lover about how huge I'm making them
I dunno what to say. inside you there are two wolves
The Couch
It’s so funny how all our lives we hear how opposites attract. We couldn’t be any more of a testament to that. You spend your days sinking further into the couch gorging on fast food that I bring home from my evening workout. I smile as I make my way to the shower seeing you work up a sweat of your own as you struggle to reach over your own belly for the remote on the coffee table. I hear the very audible gasp of breath as you secure it and lay back again into your gluttonous recline on the couch. We first met a couple years ago. You were ambitious and took good care of yourself. One of the first things I noticed is your sweet tooth. I made sure to note that and tempt you as often as I could. Soon gym routines turned into stuffing sessions and outdoor adventures turned into leisure time on the couch munching on whatever foods I could put in front of you. You never questioned it. You knew what was happening and you embraced it. I enabled you further and further. You went from below 200lbs to having to check the elevators weight capacity whenever we stepped into one with other people already on it. That’s something there alone incredibly hot. You weighing as much as a few people. So much that what should be considered a 10 person limit for weight is now 4 plus you. Just like every night I take my short shower cleaning up after my long day of activity and work to then come back to the living room to replace all the snacks and goodies you’ve inhaled. I smile at you as I place a plate of cookies down on the table just slightly within your reach (once again so I can watch you struggle) and grab a roll of fat with my free hand as I kiss your chins. I ask what would you like for dinner even though you’ve been eating this entire time and get busy on prepping another fattening meal for you. Once you’ve ate I had a bedtime shake in front of you and watch as you take in the last drops before slipping into another calorie induced coma. The next morning, like always, you’ll find your indentation on the couch to be that much deeper. However, you wouldn’t know. You don’t get up. Why would you? Mommy will take care of all your needs. Just eat, grow, and enjoy my pig. Mommy loves you. 😘
Please
REBLOG IF YOU ARE A GAINER WHO NEEDS A FEEDER.
REBLOG IF YOU ARE A FEEDER WHO NEEDS A GAINER…
I feel like the act of being fed by someone is so vulnerable. You know those calories are going to change your body. You’re allowing yourself to be fattened by someone. You’re trusting them. You’ve willingly put yourself in such a vulnerable position. Maybe it’s not that deep but it feels like such a deep connection to me idk
This is what I'm looking for 🥰
You are such a depraved, fat pig. My god I love it.
I don’t know what you’re talking about 😇
Bit of an indulgent start to my Saturday morning