Turns out testosterone does make you really hungry/28/feedee/transmasc/ he,him/ taken/ but give me compliments & encouragements/ SW:119/ CW:155/Not actively gaining but what happens happens/ Disabled- limited diet options
I have been going through my closet to sell some clothing I have way, way outgrown and need to admit that I am both embarrassed and incredibly turned on by the sheer magnitude that doesn’t fit me. The amount of skirts that wont slip past my thigh; shorts that now even the suggestion of buttoning is a silly joke.
Looking at some of my clothes, I cant comprehend I was once so small. I couldn’t fathom that I had gained weight at first and that has resulted in me forgetting where I started.
I cannot deny that I let myself go with so little regard, I didn’t even realize it was happening. Denial had wrapped itself around me. I made excuses for everything- even breaking not one but two office chairs. The delicious habits I had grown working from home had absolutely caught up with me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop myself even if I had wanted to.
At first I was stuck in a loop of a lie that I could stop the habit, that it was only a habit and had not become a full blown food addiction. I’d try to convince myself after every meal that I could stop myself from gorging on the amount of food I was eating if I really, really wanted to..that I’d be full eventually. I just never hit that point, I never wanted to stop. I always wanted more- even then.
When I stopped being able to fit comfortably in my bath tub and outgrown even my baggiest clothing- I had no choice but be confronted by the sheer 50 pounds of weight gain. It maybe should have worried me, and honestly it would have horrified most peeople.
But I wasn’t scared, I was excited. In truth, it turned me on so much I am not sure I can describe it fully.
I realized my relationship with food had turned from ‘problem’ into something more desperate and visceral.
I cannot help but want more, more fat evidence of just how much I have given into gluttony and reminding me that no matter how hard I may have thought I wanted to keep my slipping grip on control, I was always meant to fall away completely into hedonism.
Looking at the pile of clothing I once loved and knowing all I want now is more food- I feel delightfully twisted in the fact that one day the new clothes I’ve just gotten will be a shocking memory too.
the twisted thrill of stuffing them to their limit, making them show and tell you exactly how full they are, and then proceeding to play rough with their full, tight belly — squeezing, poking, jostling, smacking
it was never something I’d hide from you during the day. I was only concerned with letting you sleep.
usually when I turn in for the night, I’m pretty satisfied. oversatisfied, if you have anything to say about it. but tonight, long after we’d both fallen asleep curled into each other, I’ve been torn from sleep by hunger. a craving, really, but I’ve been pampered enough to believe the two are more or less the same.
I wanted ice cream.
I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. thick…sweet…cold…calorie-dense… I could even pop it in the microwave for a few seconds - take it out just before the beep, eliminate both that and the sound of me rustling through the drawer for a spoon… a few swallows to satiate myself, then back to bed before you know I’m gone.
of course that’s not how it went. the carton wasn’t even that full - I thought it’d be better off emptied and tossed in the trash. I was planning on having some anyway. why not have it all?
which is exactly why I lumbered into bed the way I did — short of breath, stifling hiccups and shallow belches, trying not to move in any way that put extra pressure on me.
so of course you roused. honestly, I should’ve known you’re attuned to all my stuffed-full sounds by now.
you shifted to open up some space next to you, patting the mattress.
“aww, honey,” you murmured, voice thick and rough with sleep, “did we not feed you enough at dinner?”
I shook my head and buried my face against your chest. I ate enough, I told you. I just wanted- more.
warmth bloomed at my middle, your hand coming to rest against the side of my belly. “think it might be more of a need than a want, honey. you’ve grown so nicely.”
I couldn’t hold back a whine as you started to knead. lower belly full of a half-digested dinner, upper belly full of melted ice cream, all of it shifting and trying to yield under your pressure.
“don’t be shy,” you cooed, kissing my forehead. “a body like yours needs a little extra fuel, huh?”
sleep was already beginning to blur my vision, eyelids nearly as heavy as my stomach. you made sure I heard one last thing before my body gave in to the comfort inside and all around me:
“next time, wake me up, too. I can fill you up better than this.”
there’s something so undignified and humiliating about someone shoving cake into your mouth too fast…….spilling crumbs everywhere and belching around huge mouthfuls, feeling your cheeks bulge and your double chin being emphasised…..i want someone to feed me an entire cake and tie me up while they do so to make sure i can’t move away or hide my face when i’m stuffed full of way too much food and looking like a fat overfed greedy mess <3
Doting feeder that isn't even necessarily trying all that hard to make you fat but ends up making you enormous anyway because they can't help but keep you well fed and making sure you never want for anything
I want to relinquish all control over my own body to some rich feeder who only sees me as a plump sex toy.
They feed me, house me, provide for me and all I have to do is submit myself to their control. Make a complete pig out of myself 24/7.
I have to stuff myself to the brim daily, my belly taut - stuffed painfully full.
I must be naked at all times so that my consistent growth can be admired.
I am required to be available for their use at all times, my mouth, my widening ass, my belly button as it grows ever deeper. I would say my dick, but under this arrangement that will disappear under my fat pad pretty quickly.
Some of you used to be barely chubby. In full clothing you could have even passed as somewhat fit. But, look at the size of you now. Fat thighs dappled with cellulite, fat ass, a belly that’s so flabby it’s starting to hang. You eat like a greedy pig. You check your tumblr, stuff your fat face and pleasure yourself. You look at girls twice your weight and think, “gosh, I won’t get that big.” But, you will. You’re a submissive pig that eats what she’s told. It’s over for you. You will get that big. You will get out of breath doing basic tasks. It’s only a matter of time before you too are a WIDE LOAD.
not to be a crazy sadistic feeder but I fucking looooove getting rough with a too-full belly - and yes, it’s because of the way the feedee reacts 🥵 jostling burps out of em rougher than you normally would, feeling them up where they’re the tightest and really pressing in your fingertips… doing anything you can to make them whine, squirm, moan, whimper, beg you to be gentler 🥵🥵
I need a cute suggestible toy I can easily mold into whatever I desire. Someone I can order to be a dumb ditzy bimbo and they'll happily giggle and jiggle around. But then I could order them to be my dumb slutty puppy and they'd get down on all fours and start barking like a good dog. I just love subjects who are willing to do anything to please their master, their obedience makes me want to use them even harder than all of my other toys
stormborns
izzy806
ellievsbear
annaxmalina
jbbartram-illu
dededos
tangentwithtanner
