You were one of the hottest things 7 or 8 years ago. Now you're drooping and discolored. It's not your fault, the community's just moved on. But still posting 'before' pics from 15 years ago?? Let it go granny.
Have you no manners??? That’s not how you’re supposed to speak to the elderly!!!! Still love you tho, kisses from Mammaw 💋💋💋
You've written before about the way feedees lose control of their weight. This is something I find thrilling. It's my body and yet, because how much my glutonny and laziness have grown, I find myself unable to stop pounds upon pounds of new fat from piling up on it. Congradulations, you've given me a food addiction and now there's nothing I can do to prevent further lard accumulation, let alone lose any of it.
I have accepted the fact that I have surrendered control and that, from here, I'm only getting bigger, rounder, softer and so on. However, there's still another driver in the car with her hand on the breaks: you.
The moment I dread the most is when you too will lose control of my weight. What happens when you're no longer able to slow me down? Just imagine trying to plateau my weight and failing completely. You try to get me to exercise a little bit, to eat merely what's necessary to keep me as fat as I am now.
But you don't stop me when I inevitably feel like stuffing myself like the grotesque hog I have become. In fact, you're excited to see just how far we can take this, just how much I will balloon, just how generous and succulent this serving of porkbelly can get. You want me to become a little too big, a little too round and a little too soft for my own good. I know when I reach that point, it will unlock something in you, something that will terrify me, and the innocent, trustworthy girl whom I have given care of the emergency breaks will instead smile devilishly at me as I become powerless to slow it down at 180km/h.
-Vanilla frosting guy
PS: I think I messed up converting from kilos to lbs in a previous ask. I am only 330lbs, which means no I'm not thrice your size (though hopefully one day I can be like four or five times your size)
Ah losing control, such a beautiful concept, you've lost the reins and there are nowhere to be found, no matter how much you try to push yourself out of that loop with sheer will power, there's no exit out if this cycle, your determination is dwarfed by your gluttony. By this point you're no longer in control, you're merely a passanger of your own gluttony, so you better relax and enjoy the ride to a very fattening destiny.
But what an enjoyable journey it is, isn't it? Seeing you outgrowing clothes that used to fit you; clothes that were baggy getting snugger, tighter and much more strained on your softer frame.
I can sometimes control your ravenous appetite and make you take things a bit slower, to enjoy the current scenary, to allow your body to adapt to your new weight, to slow down your gains so you don't have to constantly size up your wardrobe. Unfortunately I am sometimes not in full control, those unintentional stuffing sessions and funnel feedings you do while I'm out are not helping, pounds of new fat keep piling up with a certain speed and I don't blame you for your growth, you have told me you no longer have control and I'm aware of it, that's why I am the "responsible one".
I try to get you to come to the gym with me, maybe some physical activity will get your weight to plateau and will put some muscle where there's only fat, but you're miserable with any exercise and it only makes you hungrier, greedier and more ravenous, so it's not helping us with your weight.
Things eventually escalate, seeing you outgrow chairs, booths and such is majestic to me as a feeder, it was bound to happen, between you stuffing your face whenever you can without me and us enjoying funneling and overfeeding your belly from time to time. It was impossible to keep the numbers from escalating and the pounds from accumulating.
At the end of the day I am human, a mere mortal and I can't stop myself from fully plunging into this desire, I tried, I truly tried to stop the rapid gains, I promise I did my best, but seeing you get rounder, softer, much fatter and only gaining more, flips a switch in me, a mix between giving up on slowing you down and giving into my own temptations.
I'm sorry baby, but we're no longer going in the scenic route, we're gonna go fast in this trip and it doesn't really matter if we reach the destiny, I know other nicer places that are much prettier than our previous destiny~
Ps: Conversions suck, I am currently 58-59kg, so you easily double my weight, big guy. Also, I think I got very inspired in this, we make a very good duo when it comes to writing, darling
Hoping to hear something from you soon, Vanilla <3
I feel like a feeder with a praise kink is dangerous. I’d keep telling you how good you’re being whilst struggling to button up my jeans for the fifth time in a month. Or maybe compliment your snack choices and how well you manage to convince me to keep pushing them back every day
Praise only makes me want to out do myself, receiving praise while also seeing those sweet results would make me go feral and I could get carried away with the doting, spoiling and feeding.
Seeing you struggling to button your jeans while telling me how good I'm being, gosh that would make me want to feed you just enough for those jeans to stop buttoning. I would only desire to feed you just enough so that even while lying on your back and sucking in your belly, those jeans won't come close to buttoning. And maybe feed you enough so that those jeans won't make it past your hips eventually, big boy~
I'm a feeder and one that truly enjoys indulging in this kink and pushing limits, I basically come with a warning that says "Careful! Very fattening when given approval" (consent before anything). So anyone who approaches me already knows what they're getting into and they know that their waistlines aren't gonna get smaller.
You consider me a danger to your whole closet and appetite with my praise kink, but no one is forcing you to praise me, you just decided to shower me in praise and specifically praise me in a feedism context. To me it sounds like you just wish to shower someone in sweet words while being fattened up and who am I to stop you, right? I love attention, compliments and praise, you would love a feeder that could make you gain "some" extra pounds, so I feel like we would only be in a beautiful and almost unstoppable cycle full of praise, doting and a weight difference that would keep getting bigger.
When I’m eating like a pig and having full body orgasms? Not at all. When I can hardly breathe from walking for a couple minutes, and I’m nervous for my own family to see what I look like? A little bit. But then I just get off to those things later, sooo…. one feeling outweighs the other, and that’s what I base my decision to keep getting fatter on
You're so big now, so gorgeously fat, that there truly is no other explanation for just how you got this big this fast. I bet they can all tell just how much you love it when your belly is so painfully full, when you pop buttons, making a massive pig of yourself.
Every time you move, there is more heaviness to you, a soft sway that tells the story of every calorie we’ve stuffed into your tummy. I love watching the way your skin stretches tight, gleaming and smooth, struggling to contain the sheer size of your growth.
Let them stare. Let them marvel at just how fat you are and just how much fatter we know you're going to get the massive size of you. We all see the look in your eyes when you outgrow your latest clothes, turning every outfit into a tight, straining cage for your growing bulk. You are meant to be huge
You've landed in Ansley Park, an affluent enclave where traditional gender roles reign supreme and every woman seems surgically attached to designer handbags and dreams of domesticity. Everyone except Hye-Jin, the Korean goth girl who stands out like a raven in a flock of flamingos. Can two outsiders find connection in this bizarrely perfect suburb, or will the town's oppressive conformity drive you both away?
https://infiniteworlds.app/shared/PELGNF
Skinny Island
Now they must make a choice.
In a world obsessed with impossible beauty standards, three plus-size activists journey to the mysterious Skinny Island resort - the secretive facility that transformed a chubby news anchor into a size-zero sensation in under a month. Accepted under controversial circumstances, they arrive determined to expose the dangers of extreme weight loss culture and champion body diversity. But the island holds secrets far stranger than they imagined, and they may find that their body positive ideals shifting as the island works it's magic.
What is most important to them: Being conventionally attractive, or being themselves?
https://infiniteworlds.app/shared/9GzutJ
Operation: Whitewash
An investment into a memecoin leaves you with a life changing amount of money.
Not only are you now seeking to use this money to increase your own personal wealth, but to fulfill your fetish for rich, glamorous brat bimbos by turning the most unlikely woman at community college into a dumb, entitled, whitewashed trophy wife.
That is, assuming you can get them to date and keep dating you long enough to condition them into being who you want them to become.
Can you be charming enough to win over your target feminist AND turn them into your ideal match without them dumping you for trying?
Every young thin girl should automatically feel called upon to let go of dumb social constraints and give in to inner secret temptations and cravings, turning to uninhibited, uninhibited gluttony, because this desire will never be silenced and will become ever more demanding as long as it is stifled.
und noch a logische begründung für das fett werden > OBESITY IS CUTE ♡
300lbs is undeniably fat - you're not chubby or thick or husky. You're fat. You either like it, or are ambivalent enough it doesn't scare you the way it would other people. You can still participate in society, mostly, but the world doesn't have to stop to accommodate you.
+400lbs is definitely eyebrow raising for society. It's being unable to clothes shop at even Walmart. Its forcing you to slow down, forcing you out of normal society because you simply do not fit. It's modifying your habits, changing to more sedentary hobbies. It's having to take up 2 seats on a packed flight, impacting a strangers life when they find that plane full. But instead of letting all that mortification spark change, no, something pleasurable coils in your belly and whispers "its not that bad yet"
500lbs?
Thats a level of obesity you're not ready for. Trust me, and I barely dipped my toe in that class of obesity.
Simple things that you've taken for granted, things that have remained as your athleticism dwindled, now suddenly seem like Olympian feats. Waddling through a store? Might as well call the ambulance to wait for your inevitable collapse. An incline? No, silly, might as well call it Everest. Standing at the stove to cook? Bold to not have a chair nearby. Clothes for fat people? Ha, you've sized out of specialty stores. Now you need custom clothes. Getting off the couch? Now you gotta plan how many times you can get up and so you make those one or two attempts count by stacking snacks around you.
Once you hit 500lbs, and you ignore that tiny quiet voice saying, "woah, hey, lets slow down" and instead listen to that roaring hunger in your belly...
Well, you'll be able to tell us what 600lbs brings soon enough.
When my husband first told me that he was into bigger girls, I thought that he was just body positive in a super cool accepting kinda way.
Gaining weight was easy but I was wasn't really into it at first. He sure as hell loved it though and before I knew it, I was up 30 pounds.
He said "It's *only* 30 pounds."
I was like nigga what kinda pork ass bitch you tryna turn me into?
A fat one. It turns out that 30 WAS a small number because after I pressured him about it I found out that he likes BIG girls. Like 600 pounds of couch filling lard mama. It was a thing I learned to work past.
Yeah, well fast the fuck forward 4 years and I'm a full blown feedee pushing 350 because what mister man didn't tell me was that he wasn't just making me bigger, he was turning my body into a giant tuning fork for sexual energy.
Now everything I do feels really wobbly and jiggly and my skin is SO fucking sensitive that if you squeeze my lower belly the right way I might have an orgasm. I'm food addicted as shit so I just wanna eat, and then it feels good so I get horny and ahhhhh what the fuck am I even gonna do with my life??
I've never understood the question that people ask, "But how do I gain?"
Do not overcomplicate it. Simply eat and do not stop. Calories in. None burned. Food is everywhere now.
I mean it.
Eat.
Fill yourself until it physically hurts and you have trouble breathing. Do not eat enough to vomit, just eat until you are satisfied and then some. Consume all calorie dense foods. It's a game of overindulging yourself into the endless loop of gorging and binge eating.
After you've eaten a large meal, graze. Never put the snacks down and keep lifting calories to your lips that will soon part for anything that comes near them. Ice cream bars, cookies and milk, cakes, and milk shakes. Allow yourself to feel the addiction changing your brain chemistry.
Soon, once you've ballooned up over two or three hundred pounds, meals will become snacks and the portions will become so much bigger than you could ever imagine. No more single plates, seconds, thirds, and fourths will become the norm for you. People will be shocked by your insatiable appetite and will attempt to tell you to slow down, ignore them and remember your purpose.
You'll feel short of breath after a long binge. That's normal. Your stomach has been stretched to a much bigger size and needs to accommodate for your big appetite. You can catch your breath later. Just roll over and remember to put your c-pap mask on before you sleep.
That softness you feel? That's every ounce of pleasure you allowed yourself to have adding to your figure. That heaviness you feel when you roll out of bed? Thats the reward for refusing to deny yourself. Touch your swelling body and know that it deserves to be celebrated and well fed.
waddling is such a hot concept to me… like… you got so fat that you can’t even walk properly, let alone run or even walk quickly. no, you’re stuck struggling to even lift your feet with all that heft pulling you down and that pesky belly getting in the way. your thick thighs chafing and tugging at each other as you break a sweat doing something most people wouldn’t think twice about. with all that effort, your breathing’s labored to the point where you’re moreso snorting and wheezing than breathing properly.
…but this is all to be expected.
when you eat like a pig, you end up like one, too.
A Prettier World @voxpopularian - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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