Sploosh's Ever-Growing Body

CW: 228 GW: Immobility Limits: None

[feedyouimmobile360]

Word is you can introduce death pigs to feeders?

Would you be willing to surrender your control over your food intake and weight, and to move to be with said feeder?

[lexithevalkyrie]

Your new life TW/immobility

wouldn't it be nice to not care anymore? instead of worrying about staying lean and healthy you could just have someone feed you to every moment of the day? 100 pounds heavier and covered in grease, so fat that you can beardly get out of bed. so heavy that a walk to the bathroom leaves you breathless and exhausted, clothes fitting tightly. but you wouldn't want it any other way, you love the feeling of your soft and heavy body and so does your partner, so go ahead eat until you can no longer move, committed to a life of gluttony and imobility.

I know you want this life too, so why don't you start eating fatty~

[makemewobble]

Like please make me under dress and take me to the one food court you know has the best fast food I can’t say no to.

Please get everything with extra sauce and mayo on whatever it applies for.

Please “Forget” the tissues and napkins when you come over with the first of six trays of this meal.

Please just sit across from me without making a peep, just rubbing my thigh and under belly with your foot while I grind against the chair and eat faster.

Please wipe the edge of my lips and call me messy when the rest of my face is covered in sauce and grease.

Please keep rubbing my belly while the elastic waistband slips down and my belly pushes forward.

Please rub small circles around my belly button cause you know it’s become so sensitive I can cum from it.

Please keep fetching the other trays just before the last one runs out.

Please force me to waddle out leaning on your shoulder cause I’m not fat enough for the scooters.

Please rub my belly while I burp and moan the whole way there.

Please tease me for making such a fucking mess of myself the entire way, whispering just loud enough for the passerby’s to hear you.

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

i need someone to ruin me.

not in the fun flirty way. i mean actually, literally, take me apart. feed me until i can't walk without waddling, until breathing feels like a chore, until my body is nothing but soft, heavy proof of your obsession. i want to be swollen with indulgence, stuffed past reason, spoiled beyond recognition.

i want to wake up in a haze of hunger and syrup-sweet affection, only to be greeted by another round of force-fed breakfasts in bed. i want you to look at me like i'm your prize pig, your project, your possession.

i want the teasing, the pressure, the constant, creeping growth. i want the way you’ll sneer when i say i’m full, the way you’ll smile when the scale creaks louder every day. I want your hands everywhere, greedy and proud, shaping me like clay into exactly what you want.

no escape. no diet. no mercy. Just feed me.

i want to be broken—beautifully, thoroughly—by appetite.

i want to be yours in the most obscene way possible. a thing you keep fattened, pampered, and pumped full of calories until i’m unrecognizable. until i'm helpless. until my body is a bloated, quivering monument to your obsession and my surrender.

don’t just feed me. force me. hold me down and pour milkshakes past my lips until i’m whining and leaking and begging you to stop, even as my gut growls for more. make me cry from fullness, then coo in my ear about how proud you are. tell me i was made to be this soft, this greedy, this round.

push me to the brink. watch me struggle to lift myself from the bed you’ve made my prison. slap the side of my belly and laugh when it jiggles for seconds after. make me wear tight clothes just so you can watch them give out, seams snapping like they’ve finally admitted defeat.

you said you wanted a pig? then feed me like one. treat me like one. no dignity, no limits. spoon after spoon, bite after bite, until i’m gasping and drooling and too heavy to fight you. make me need you to eat, to move, to breathe.

make me forget who i was before you turned me into this.

just a swollen, spoiled, overfed mess made for your pleasure.

[auxfeed]

Look, piggy, you received an email on your old email-account. It's from one of your former schoolmates. Should I read it for you? Yes? Well, it's adressed to all the people of your former class to meet for a ten-year-reunion in about six months. Oh piggy, isn't it adoreble that they think you still belong to them?

I remember when you told me how big you've already been back in your schooldays. That you easily doubled most of your classmates in weight. That you had problems sitting normally on the chairs and that you'd even broken some. You were always the biggest, weren't you? So just think about the current situation then...

Most of your former classmates live perfect lives, don't they. And while they do, nobody could even imagine what happened to you in these last ten years. There are people, who founded a family, for example. All while you submitted to me and fattened up for me like none of them could even imagine. At a gaining rate of nearly 70lbs per year, you added 700lbs of extra fat and blubber to your already big frame, weighing down now at an enormous and supersized 985lbs. And while all those now successful women and men out there work on their careers in good jobs everyday, your only job is to lay here naked in your bariatric, reinforced bed and eat your life away for my pleasure like the good pig you are. Like them you also achieved a lot of hoals in your life - just... different. They got married to their partners, you got owned by me, your feeder and master. They built houses, you trapped yourself inside your own body on purpose. They travel around the world, while you can't move a single finger nowadays.

So, imagine if we'd find a way to move you to the reunion. What would all these people, your former classmates, feel, when they saw you? Would they be embaressed? Would they feel sorry for you? Would they be disgusted? Would they laugh at you? Whould they tell you that they'd always knew how you would end up, you fat fuck? Well, probably all together, don't you think?

Let's face it, piggy: you won't go there anyway. Because you have a job to do, a very important job. There's still not enough fat hanging off your body. And you are still able to breathe way too good. We should change that, shouldn't we? And while all of your classmates will meet in a couple of month to celebrate their reunion, I'm pretty sure, you won't even make it until then, you fat, greedy hog. Here, piggy, eat something. Make me proud and eat yourself to death, fat pig!

[deepest-darkest-fantasy]

Would they notice you were gone?

Ever since you got with your feeder, you've been isolated from your old life. None of your friends or family reach out, or even know you're alive. Nobody knows where you live, or what you've been doing with your life. Their last interactions with you have been pleas for you to cut back and leave the sicko enabling you. After years of their cries falling on deaf ears, they gave up. You wonder how they'd react if they seen you nowadays. You've doubled in size since they last saw you. Your body has been failing more and more every day. You don't think you'll even live to see your next birthday. You're trapped in your own body, the only human interaction you have anymore is getting fed and used. The love of your life is slowly killing you, and you love every second of it. But, sometimes you wonder...

would anyone even know you're gone?

[keep-eating-pig]

No, you pathetic pig, you're nowhere near fat enough. I don’t care if doing the most basic things has become nearly impossible for your obese, useless body. I don’t care if you can barely breathe or if your whole family is worried sick about you.

Open that mouth right now. Or I’ll have to pry it open with my fingers and force this donut down your throat. You know how much I hate doing that, so be a good pig and open wide for me.

There we go… that’s it. Look at you swallowing everything I give you like an obedient little pig. See how perfect you are when you just obey? Honestly, I don’t know how much longer that greedy body of yours is going to last… but I’m going to enjoy every single second I have until something finally gives out. Keep eating for me.

[fatlifeshortlife]

Dehumanized.

Locked away, bound, hidden from the rest of the world. Body restrained first by rope or chain, then something new. Fed, fattened, forcefully overfilled at every opportunity. A timer, a pump, a hose pushed down your throat, bypassing any attempt you make to stop. Every few hours, filled, like an industrial process, ensuring your stomach is at its limits. Continuing until you are gone - swallowed, smothered, suffocated, by enough lard that whoever you were is a minor detail to the mountain of malleable wobbling flesh you’ve become. Your basic autonomy is denied, left to be handled by your keeper. Any attempt to struggle, meaningless, silenced, by your own willingness to listen and follow your feeder to this place. Isolated, the only things visible being the feeding tube hanging from a mount above, a mirror failing to display just how obscenely overfed you’ve become, and a taunting chart showing a line spiking upward and various photos of what you can only assume are you at different stages of this process. When the feed pumping motor whirs off, the lights soon follow. Only turning on again when your body has created enough space to be filled again. You exist to eat. You are nothing without it, have nothing, can do nothing. Just lay there, fattening further and further, shocked at the start of every new day that you’ve somehow survived another night. Gasping, wheezing, struggling, eyes weeping at the realization that you can no longer see an end to the size of your own body, the folds of fat stretching too far beyond what limited head movement you are allowed. Until one day, the lights don’t turn on again.

[plushefemme]

thinking about an innocent oblivious feedee… she’s never smoked weed or tried edibles and doesn’t know what they taste like, so when you give her a ‘multivitamin gummy’ first thing in the morning she thinks you’re being so sweet and taking good care of her… you make her a huge breakfast feat. waffles with a very special kind of butter and she’s amazed at how good everything tastes and how incredible she feels and she’s on her third or fourth helping by the time she realizes her gut is kinda tight and round but somehow she wants to keep eating. she finishes her breakfast with a ‘nutritional shake’ and once it’s gone she can’t stop burping and hiccuping, completely pinned to the couch by her gut, dazed and uncomprehending exactly how this happened. she feels so weird… maybe she overdid it just a little, she does have a weakness for breakfast foods. she’ll be back to normal after a quick nap.

but when you wake her up in a few hours for lunch, she takes another multivitamin gummy from your hand without question.

[feeder4ever]

Fuck…I love intox feeding soooooooo much❤️‍🔥

[adelicateeagle]

Pig

I want to make you too fat to get off on your own, whining and begging for it.

Pathetically grinding your fatass on the couch to hump your own lard to seek some relief. Out of breath, gasping and giving up after 1 min.

And when your fatpad is big enough just waddling to the fridge to get more food would get you off feeling you fat massage your buried cock Cumming halfway between the couch and fridge, wheezing, snorting and grunting, needing some support from the nearest surface, trying to catch your breath. Barely a patch on your tight sweatpants because your cock is buried so deep between your fupa, belly and thighs rolls, your balls so crushed by it, that all you manage is only a pitiful dollop of cum. Still when you see me in the kitchen, you ask between two moan and snort, that I help you to the living room, that you’re too tired and need your couch, as if you just run a marathon.

[blobbycow]

This is stuff i fantasize about. Putting myself and partners in these scenarios. Huff~ 🐮

[fatlesbianjoyer]

the specific kind of indulgent mommy-ing that hides darker intentions… are you sure you’ve had enough to eat, sweetheart? you look so thin and sickly. if your tummy hurts, that means you need to eat more. walking isn’t good for you, remember? it gets you all out of breath.

until you’re 600 lbs.

[feedernurse]

GOD is it so bad to want to pluck a fatty out of their life and turn them into a desperately needy, borderline disabled, helpless pig who is terrified of leaving the house without me? Does that really make me the bad guy?

[makemewobble]

I wanna be your project.

Document my gains, my habits, my diet, my personality. A journal to each category, photo collages and scrap books of every little milestone we find important. Measure me and take note of my stretch marks.

Draw on me and outline where you think the next few pounds of fat are going to end up at. Pinch and prod my body at your expense and even mention how it feels, the texture of it. Talk my ears off while you make me stand there on full display for your discerning eye. Not once caring how tired I get or how out of breath I am from having to stand on my own for so long

Make notes of when I manage to eat a bite or two more. How over the course of months and years that instead of bites, it’s evolved into plates and full dishes extra just to feed me. Explain my diet to me while you keep me down on all fours with my face in my dog bowl, sitting on my back and forcing me to hold you up. Patting my side when I’ve done good.

Keeping track of what foods turn me on more and coming up with meal courses serving to show my arousal rise with each bite, climaxing to me panting and grinding into my chair at the end of the dinner. Force desserts into me for the sake of consistent experiments, each meal has to end the same way no matter how full I am.

Documenting my slow descent from walking to waddling to days of no movement at all. Make me do low impact exercises just to keep me in enough shape to still stand for the inspections.

[blimp-feeds]

Gods, I want to be addicted to someone getting fatter. All I can think about is kissing and kneading your fat, daydreaming stuffing you until you're fit to burst, knowing that it'll make you larger and softer. Just have your gains and your hedonism consume me until it's all I can think about, all I'll ever be service to

[garlicbrednmore]

Getting blackmailed into becoming somebody’s fattening pet.

Being manipulated into becoming somebody’s fattening pet.

Being kidnapped and forced into becoming somebody’s fattening pet.

Being paid to become somebody’s fattening pet.

Voluntarily becoming somebody’s fattening pet.

[fatlesbianjoyer]

girls with concerning stretch marks. girls whose bodies visibly cannot withstand their gluttony. girls whose greed is literally torn into their skin.

[garlicbrednmore]

“But I’m getting way too big”

That’s your cue to disregard my feelings. No more praise, no more encouragement, make it known that you are in charge of me.

I don’t control what happens with my body, you do. You decide how big I get, and you decide when I stop.

Humiliate me. Embarrass me. Flaunt your sleek, toned body to make me understand that I could never turn things around. Get it through my thick skull that there’s no going back to thin for me anymore.

Make me feel like such a useless tub of jiggling lard that any attempt at exercise would only be met with mockery. “Look at that fatty on the treadmill, even their double chin is bouncing”.

And if none of that works, if I keep insisting, then you just take me by force.

Tie me to the bed and lock me in my room, take away my mobility until you can feed me and feed me and feed me into a big ball of shame and blubber. Make me so fat and embarrassed of myself that I’ll never want to show my face outside again.

Then I’m all yours again.