(Please reblog if you enjoy!)
My goodness youâve let go of that final last of resistance babe. I catch you eating when without prompt and prompting food be brought to you. You donât really have it in you to resist anymore. Iâve gotten you so comfortable with accepting treats, extras and snacks. Each meal multilayered with multiple desserts or treats at night. We load you up and let you fill out the indent in the couch more. You truly now embody the meaning of âspoiledâ with nearly every ounce of your being. Youâve always been fat but you used to be such an athletic fatty but now stairs and semi-longer walkways take your breath away. Your physique ruined by my tender care, an instance you take care and relax, and a willingness to discover what indulgence you canât turn down. Youâve slowly went from that perky fast fat girl to the careful rotund butterball you are. I can see not only has my spoiling of you made you physically soft but I can feel your last bits of definition dissolve into lard.
The slightest movement of your body or the slightest tap and your flesh quivers and bounces. Ripples across the thick jiggly sheath of adipose tissue taking over your life. Somewhere buried under all that lard is that plump but in shape fat girl. Remember how socially acceptable your body was? My would even the average FA find you hot? Would the average feeder shake their head at me as I bring you food? Each added inch, stretch mark, roll another step towards complete obesity.
Youâve long past the point of curvy or ultra curvy as your body now has to get creative as all the obvious spots are filled to compactly. Youâve traded in your thick fat yet shapely ass for your more delicious wide gelatin mold of an ass shelf that just spreads and gets so flabby you never stop bouncing when you walk. Your belly hangs so low anyone can see sway in even when your clothes cover it. The slow explosion of your upper arms as the fat just keeps pushing into them and down into your lower arms as the final frontier of your wrists get conquered too.
Every moment of your day is now changed every aspect of your life to make room for more fat. Youâre swamped by your own blubber when you sit fighting your tits to reach things. The hot comfort you now unconsciously have in resting your device on your stomach. The utter look of exhilaration and fear in the humiliation of how heavy you are surround by your curves and assets turned to weighty fat rolls and explosive swells of fat that pile up around you. They fight each other and you for space, your massive tummy takes center stage in a way I can tell you find extra humiliating. Itâs tasty when the traces of your unconscious pride in being that acceptable curvy fatty surfaces and is crushed by your sheer rotundity. Your hourglass is only findable in traces. Bigger tits turn gelatinous like the rest of you but youâre still stacked and your wide fat ass slowly pools around you with your hips and thighs. I know that embarrassment of a fat middle is the worse part for you because you used to have a real waistline but now itâs two massive fat rolls hanging in a lard only double belly. Total jello/pudding consistency with a slight clinch of the lard below your tits to maybe resemble a waistline. You give me these great looks of true humiliation and resignation when you catch me looking at inches of escaped tummy roll or lovehandles. You can tell you forget how big you let me make your belly until those moments you realize.
I now know why you used to ask me would I ever find you too fat to handle. I think an honest question or need to be reassured with a clear fantasy but somewhere in the last hundred pounds itâs slowly almost a plea. Like Violet as sheâs chewing away crying for help. You canât stop yourself now and I realize now some part of you desperately hoped Iâd sour to our game and stop you before we hit some edge.
I think we went passed that now because you stopped asking and started eating more and more. The humiliation and consequences too tiny before the years of training and the long loss of your fitness and muscle mass. Your helplessness to your own pleasure evident when you orgasm until you cry versus cry like your old thin(ner) self would have. You hoped I was lying about taking you beyond that edge. Some part of you hoped Iâd stop you because you knew once I started you down that enabling, submission inducing and fattening path of pleasure you really didnât think you could stop.
I think you chose me because another more true part of you didnât want to stop. You knew my ability to dom you as evil taunting feeder, sweet lover feeder and subtle farmer feedee shaping your environment to fatten you would overwhelm your lingering resistance. Youâve never been greedier and more gluttonous until after some humiliating detail is revealed or experience occurs.
Be honest the only one here in control is your hunger. From the outside it might appear Iâm the dom or your the dom if they see my doting. But the reality is your gluttony is who weâve both put in charges by removing that last bit of resistance.