pretty dumplin @prettylildumplin - Tumblr Blog

Felt perfect might delete later

#fatty #feed me #make me fatter #looking for a feeder #fattening up #ssbbwbeauty #ssbbwfat #ssbbw belly #sexy ssbbw

dry humping in his lap when he reaches around your ass and sinks the tip of his finger inside of you. he groans under his breath in disbelief over how wet you are, the way you gasp and whine and try to fuck yourself on the tease of penetration. he plunges in deep, finger buried in your cunt to the last knuckle as you tremble, desperately slipping and sliding up and down the ridges of his cock, face buried in the crook of his neck as you cum with a whimper.

mousidy

if you lose interest in a trans woman when you find out she has a vagina then die

mousidy

we're not sex toys we're people 👍

mousidy

oh noooo you can't fit her into the "tranny shemale futanari dickgirl" sexual archetype OR the "pure, Natural cis woman crafted by god" sexual archetype? you have to respect her as a person rather than as a sex object? fuuuuck that must be really hard for you I'm sorry

mousidy

it's funny that both trans and cis women alike are reduced to our genitals, but with trans women it's especially extreme. transness is thought of as infinitely worse than cisness in every way, so why would you ever desire a trans woman if not to play with her one unique feature? and if she doesn't, or can't, put out, what's the point of her? what value does she even have? she's just a sex toy, you can just throw her out

stillvathek

She was gone. She was so gone.

Eyes glazed, staring at nothing. Dumb smile on her face, streak of drool running down her chin. Panting, shallow breaths. Little wet spot between her spread legs, thighs glistening. A giggle every so often. She was gone.

For fun, he reached across and mimed plucking something from her head. She didn’t immediately notice, but after a delay of a second or so there came another giggle. Silly owner.

“I took all your brains,” he said, holding up his fingers pinched together, as though he was dangling something. He wasn’t, obviously, but she still struggled to bring her eyes to focus on it anyway, woozy, confused. She stared intently at the nothing a moment and then giggled yet again, blinking slowly.

“‘Don ‘wan brainsss….” she slurred, the closest she’d managed to actually speaking in a long while now. He considered this, nodding to himself.

“Alright. So I should just throw these away?” He asked, motioning to do that. She’d started groping her tits again, eyes fluttering shut, and if it hadn’t been him speaking she probably wouldn’t have listened at all.

“Brainss bad… no brains…” she mumbled, head lolling.

She was so gone.

“Alright,” he said again, getting an idea. “Maybe best to keep them for now, case I need them. Maybe your friends start asking questions again or something, you know? But where to keep them, hmm…”

With her eyes closed she didn’t notice him getting closer.

“Somewhere safe, somewhere we probably won’t lose them… ah, I know…”

She gasped as his fingers slid into her, so, so easily. Her whole body juddered, head falling forward, eyes still closed. She was so gone.

“This seems like a good place, hmm? Nice and safe here. I think your brains fit much better here than they ever did in your head. Isn’t that right?”

The sound his fingers made between her legs were obscene.

“Nnnhhhh ah riiggghttt…”

“So I think your brains can just stay tucked away here, nice and safe in your cunt. You do most of your thinking down here anyway, when I’m not telling you what you should be thinking, so this is for the best. Yes?”

“Besssst yesss…”

“My little dummy just thinks with her cunt. Can you say that for me?”

“N’little dummy s’thinks cuntss…” she slurred. He smiled, pulling his fingers out and not even waiting until she’d finished halfway-mumbling the words before feeding them, slick, into her mouth. She sucked automatically, moaning like how she’d been trained to, and how she thought she always had.

So gone. So, so gone.

mioxenoblade

I’m a trans woman and I’m biologically female

marmalade-draws

If you've ever said you love fat trans women then I'd better see you putting money in her account this pride month. Being fat is expensive!!

fatliberationdamnit

hey, it’s @fatliberation. my blog was terminated by staff. would you mind posting this to your followers so people can find me?

https://www.tumblr.com/thaenad/817106591215140864/fatliberation-has-been-terminated-by-tumblr

@fatliberation, who I often reblog here, has been censored by staff. This blog has been a respite from fatphobic culture, and we are all worse for having lost it. Please support their other blog, @thaenad, if you’re interested in continuing to support this creator.

I haven’t spoken about this directly, but I believe the institutionalized anti-feedist sentiment on tumblr is puritanical and inherently fatphobic. This policy has been used to justify silencing and harassing fat people, both who are and aren’t feedists.

I understand that there are range of opinions and histories with the feedist community, and I respect not wanting to engage with the kink. Everyone has the right to curate their own sexual experience. There are shitty people in every community, and I’m not here to dismiss people’s pain associated with mistreatment by feedists.

However, most feedists are fat people. Or they’re the partners and friends and allies of fat people. Tumblr especially tends to attract feedists who engage in the kink with less shame, and less reason to mistreat other fat people. Demonization of them on the basis of a sexual preference people find distasteful is bullshit. Limits on self expression and alternative perspectives harm all of us.

And to people who say feedists fundamentally objectify fat bodies, the majority of people in my likes and reblogs are feedists. They’re fighting the good fight. They’re expanding the Overton window on fat liberation. I think it’s bad politics to reject allies because they give you the ick.

If you’re in a position to engage with fat liberation from the perspective of a feedist, I recommend following @thaenad on their blog and other places. They’ve been committed to providing an alternative view point against fatphobia for years. I’m personally very grateful for what they put out into the world.

melromani

born to mooo, forced to think

nousommesvousetes

I want a boyfriend that so clearly sees me only as his personal sex slave. His dumb cow.

He’ll reach out and jiggle my tits in front of his bros, invite them to grope my titties so they can compliment him on what a good fat slut he owns.

He’ll slap my ass every time I turn away from him, no matter where we are. He also likes to twist my nipple painfully when we’re in public situations like the cinema or a quiet bus — to see if he can make me squeal loudly and humiliate myself.

Another joke he likes to pull is to wedgie my pants so I get a cameltoe, and then tickle my pussylips with a finger. “Here’s where I love you, retard,” he said on Valentine’s Day. “This is my girlfriend.” But then again, he always forces a finger in my ass whenever he gets the opportunity, so he must love that girlfriend just as much.

He’ll tell me to pull out my tits most times he sees dare to wear clothes inside our apartment; he’ll slap my face, hard, tell me cows don’t get to cover up in front of their owners. And then he’ll make me jiggle and bounce my tits for a couple minutes, put on a show for him, to make up for my insolence.

He’s stopped kissing me and now spits in my mouth instead. It makes me feel warm and loved inside, and my little cunny gets hot every time he does it. That’s the funny part — whenever my friends tell me he’s an abusive piece of shit, and that I should leave him ASAP, I just laugh. Because I know it’s really my fault, when I want to be treated like a dumb cow.

thatonemouse

"You're better off dumb"

Wrong.

If you don't have a thought if your head, you can't appreciate what's happened to you. What I've done to you. And what you've become willing, eager and excited to do.

I don't want you to mindlessly nod along as I talk down to and belittle you. I want those words to sting. And I want to hear you meekly, timidly whimper out a "yes sir."

I want you to feel shame as you get excited at the things I'm calling you, doing to you, and worst of all - the things I'm "making" you do for me. I want you to know that you shouldn't. Shouldn't let me treat you like this. Shouldn't be giving into me so easily. Shouldn't be rewarding me for being like this.

So you get to keep being so smart and so clever. And realizing that despite all of that, I still know just the right buttons to push for none of it to matter.

thatonemouse

The mind is a prison and I want you in shackles.

justarandomguyfa

✨ Reblog ✨

If you’re a fat, growing glutton that wants to be teased, encouraged and fattened like the good piggy you are.

emptyheadedhousecow

winner x loser

650 words · 3 min read · emptyheadedhousecow.tumblr.com · March 2024

It's not enough just to win. It's not enough to only have broken you.

We both knew that I thrived on the struggle. That I loved when you resisted, but loved it even more when tomorrow you'd resist a little less. As day by day I'd snake past your defenses, overwhelm your dignity, make you give in. Little by little, bit by bit; just a tiny bit more compliant today than you were yesterday.

We both wanted it. You wanted your barriers broken and you knew you couldn't do it yourself; you wanted to renounce everything that was holding you back, but you didn't have the strength to turn away. I wanted nothing more than to corrupt you, isolate you, dedicate you to me and only me. From when we first locked eyes there was a tense balance between us and we both knew all we wanted was for the scales to tip, slowly, irreversibly, to me.

But you were worried. We both love the struggle but your real goal was what comes afterwards. You wanted to be switched off, to be putty in my hands, to follow my instruction without a thought from your own head.

You worried that I didn't want the same. You worried that I was in it only for the battle, only for the agonising push-and-pull of power, only for the slow accumulation of subservience. You worried that I only wanted the glory of winning, of proving myself superior to you. You worried that once I'd won and gotten my prize I'd have nothing to play for. You worried that I'd leave and find a new champion to play with, leaving you utterly dependent on me with only my memory to slake your unquenchable thirst; a breath held forever.

Honey, no. Hush those silly thoughts. Seeing as I'll be doing all the thinking for both of us one day, we may as well start now.

It's not enough for me to win, darling. In some ways I already have, from the moment you first resigned yourself to eventually being mine. Yes, I love the struggle, and I'll savour it as long as I can make it last — but even though the flesh of this fruit is perfectly tasty it's the sweet ichor inside that drives me wild.

I don't need to win. I will, of course; I am superior to you, in every way, but I don't need to prove it. No, I need to dominate you. I need to win day, after day, after day. I need to win when you can no longer muster any resistance at all. I need to win when you've given up all thoughts of running. I need to look into your eyes and watch the memory of life before me fade. I need to own you, inside and out, so thoroughly that you forget who you were.

When one day you realise that you got what you wanted, and you have nothing left to call your own, and you belong to me in every sense of the word, but I'm still taking more —

— when you're already addicted to me, but I keep upping your dose —

— when there's nothing left to think but thoughts I fed you, but I still fill your head with lies —

— when your world extends no further than my bedroom door, but I still keep you bound —

— when you put up one last struggle to try to tell me this isn't what you wanted, and for the first time you really earnestly try, and worry for wholly different reasons — that's the battle I need to win.

And I will.

And you'll be nothing.

And that will be my prize.

Eat up, darling, and struggle while you can.