#cwnrambles

[cwnspam]

Desperation to gain is still probably one of the hottest things to me

[cwnspam]

"Double fisting food" is such a nice description because fist implies such a harsh, protective grip. It conveys eagerness and greed so simply I love it

[cwnspam]

will forever love feedees talking about:

the insatiable desire to just get fat/fatter.

please tell me more. this is such an underrated thing but just knowing that you wanna be fat, how much you wanna get fatter, etc. is so arousing. are you embarrassed, or just eager? is there any kind of thought stopping you?

how fat they imagine themselves.

fuuck I wanna know the specifics. tell me what you'd struggle with, what changes you'd experience at that size, all the emotions that would come with it. give more than just a number. state the experience. what would it really feel like to be at the sizes you imagine?

appetite and general cravings

your appetite, has it changed? have you even noticed? are you even thinking about it? does it catch you off guard sometimes? when is it worse? what have you been craving non stop, what are you weaknesses? do I have permission to use this 'against' you?

how much their size/appetite turns them on

what really goes through your head thoughout the day, just existing like you do? do you get excited when you're hungry, or does it mostly kick in when you overindulge? does seeing your own body remind you to give in more for the sake of horny curiosity? what exactly would you love done to you right now?

moments they feel at their fattest

being fat is both physical and a state of mind - its the cravings and desires in your head that make you fat. so, when do you feel at your fattest? is it when you're in something tight? after you've eaten too much? when you're exhausted, when you're struggling with something that someone else isn't? I just love fat moments. it's the thought that counts and such.

[cwnspam]

There always seems to be that urge to get you pregnant, your body already fattened up to the point where you look tantalisingly fertile at every angle. Thickened hips, ample thighs and a rounded out belly thats more or less past the mark of just pudgy or a little chubby.

It's hard not to imagine it rounded out, heavy with our child and waddling around with determination. It's an incredibly enticing sight. Your frame aches to be worshipped, held down each night just so you and the little one knows just how much I adore you. You'd always feel pregnant, even afterwards.

Stood in the kitchen, apron unable to cover the conspicuous bump and waist ties dug within the rolls of your back and sides. You're full everywhere, belly rounded out and chest weighted over the top. Sensitive to the touch, occasionally getting frustratingly sore with milk. You're so captivatingly vulnerable, my hands massaging your hips whilst you put something together to eat. You'll stay like that for me.

[cwnspam]

That back roll that dips into the hip when sat >>>>

[cwnspam]

Consider the idea of being put in a setting where you're made to confess a long line of all your depraved thoughts. You can start with something easy, a string of patent desires that feel practically borderline at their worst. After running through everything that seems almost common, you ease up to the idea of admitting thoughts far worse until it becomes nothing but a plead from a stream of consciousness— it's the kind of desires you've ached for, the type of lusting that only gets worse the longer you attempt to shove it deeper.

Now consider expecting some kind of disdain, taking it like a challenge almost. You want to prove how weird your desires can be, hence why you've continued for so long.

Finally, consider being met with desires that are much worse from your own. There is no absolution for your thoughts, or perhaps the arousing fear invoked in you from hearing confessions much worst than your own could be considered as such. Consider being endorsed, even allowing yourself to be manipulated under the guise of penance.

[cwnspam]

I love the idea of breaking conventional standards within feedism. Being aware that you're not supposed to enjoy gaining weight, but you do. There's a lot of unconventional things about this kink that really do it for me. There's such a shame (within society) put around gaining weight and generally being fat that the idea of being unapologetically fat is a crazy turn on.

Like sure, you're not supposed to order several plates or eat every hour or two, but you do. Most people don't rub their bellies in public or lean back to show it off, but nothing is stopping you. There's nothing holding you back from filling up every chair or lowering your waistband whenever you get the chance.

I think it's generally the idea of acting "fat", even if it is somewhat of a stereotype. There's nothing bad about being stereotypically fat and there's definitely nothing wrong in fantasising about it 👍

[cwnspam]

The chairs in work seem smaller lately, although you're more than aware it's not the chairs that are getting smaller. The shirts, the ones that initially fit you, seem stacked in a lonely corner of your room - untouched and not worn for a long time. You've gone up a few sizes since then, despite wearing each size until you practically couldn't anymore. You waited until it edged towards embarrassing, then decided to order another size up.

The first time, it felt humiliating; having to anxiously ask your boss for something you'd realistically required a month before. Now, however, such a request is second nature. It's as if you've gotten used to growing, which isn't exactly far from the truth.

The trousers, too. The ones that fit you fine years back still sit among the pile of clothes you once assumed you'd fit back into. That was until you gave into this whole mess and yet, a part of you holds onto it as if they're memorabilia. It's as if each outgrown item is a trophy, but the kind you're too self aware to hang on your wall. Not to mention, there's far too many to hang at this point, so the hidden ‘grown out’ corner suffices.

At some point, it was considered fluctuation. It was weight that came from all kinds of things; from a casual bloat, one indulgent holiday, a stressful month. There was an excuse for a casual 5, 10, even 20 pound gain - but that was years ago. That was where you'd started, in denial and unsure.

But the gain had you thinking. The tightness of your clothes made you curious and suddenly, you fantasised about them being just that little bit tighter. You experimented, then. That was what you called it. A few more pounds wouldn't hurt and overindulgence was comfortable. Relaxing. Maybe a bit too much.

It was exciting. Coming home each day and checking if anything had changed seemed a regular occurrence. By the time you'd reached one goal, you felt unsatisfied. That was undoubtedly how you ended up here; belly pressed to the desk and undoubtedly cutting into it. Your shirt now, no matter the size, didn't seem to hide your belly and the undeniable jiggle that comes with it. People's eyes seem to linger there first, before meeting your own with an almost apologetic look. They don't know you did this to yourself, willingly, nor do they realise there's no intention of stopping anytime soon. There's no reason to.