#pov immobility

[sheepsfluff]

POV: The Fairy That Got Fat

ah, you've gotten so big now...

do you remember when you were small enough for me to hold in one hand? that wasn't so long ago, and yet look how big you've grown... first you started to fill up my palm bit by bit, and then eventually i needed to hands to lift your girth. now it's getting difficult for me to lift you even with two hands, you're so chunky!

i recall when i first found you, scrounging for crumbs in my cupboard. not really knowing what i had found, i kept you in a jar with air holes for a while--how inhumane that was! luckily, you grew docile enough after a while that i could let your roam around on your own.

now, you couldn't fly away even if you wanted to! no way are those tiny wings able to lift all that flab off the ground even a little bit...

i quickly discovered you had a liking for sweets. it was clear you'd been deprived of food for most of your life with how skinny you were, and you didn't know when to stop, stuffing yourself until you were bloated every single time i out food in front of you. i thought magical creatures were supposed to stay skinny no matter what, but boy did you prove me wrong! come to think of it, i don't think you'd even fit inside that jar i first put you in anymore.

at first i enjoyed dressing you up in whatever little doll clothes i could find, and you seemed to enjoy having a larger wardrobe. but they don't make many doll clothes fitted for rotund faries, and so your options ran out pretty quickly. just tea-towel dresses for you now, or more likely nothing at all! it's not like you have to worry about being indecent anymore, since the fat more than covers everything up. ah, how i love squishing you around in my hand like a stress ball, kneading your mound of a belly to create little burps and farts from my cute bloated pet <3

how i wish i could understand your little squeaks and cries, my fairy friend. i can only assume this life is better for you than scrounging around in cubpoards for scraps. now you have all the food you need, and me to feed it to you without you needing to lift a finger (as if you even could at this point, hehe). i may not understand your words, but if your burps and tiny moans are anything to go off of, you're as happy as can be :-)

isn't it wonderful? what would your fairy friends think of they could see you now, your rolls of fat dwarfing your tiny, useless wings. to think thise things could ever lift you!

oh how i love you, my squishy round pet! now let's see if we can fit this entire cake into that round belly of yours, shall we?

[sheepsfluff]

ive been thinking recently about the different sadistic ways a feeder could progress their feedee to a life of immobility

like, imagine a feeder who is always willing to help you get around as your weight continues to balloon outward. you don't have to worry about how big you're getting, because your feeder's strong arm is always there to support you when you need it (even if it takes you longer and longer to get up each time, even with their help)

and then, when they're absolutely sure your belly has grown out of control and you cannot get up without their help at all, they lead you to the bedroom, park you in your oversized bed, and leave your there.

don't get me wrong, they still attend to your every need--making sure you stay clean and more than well fed. they just don't help you get up anymore, no matter how much you might plead and whine for it.

finally, confined to the bed by your size, you realize what you've done to yourself. any amount of weak shuffling you do just makes you tired, sweaty, and even hungrier--not to mention reminding you of just how many pounds of jiggly fat you're now buried under. the fact that your feeder doesn't so much as try to hinder your attempts to leave just makes it worse; they know you're too far gone to make it out of the bed, let alone beyond a doorway that's much too small for you now. no, any struggling you do just frees up space for more food.

but to a certain degree you've already accepted this life, so it's not too hard giving in once you're stuck. after all, you have everything you could need within arms reach. from there you are at the whim of your feeder, growing and spreading across your own bed.

every part of you swells to accommodate your fat until even your feet have rounded out (although they've been out of your sight since long before you were confined to bed) and you and your feeder can both laugh at the idea of you ever having walked on them in the first place.