Look at you sitting in your chair, your big soft belly resting heavily on those flabby thighs of yours. Your belly is trying it's best to force them away from each other, but they're getting so fat now that even with your knees wide apart, those thighs are still touching.
Look at how your hips are spilling out from your waistband, pushing against your chair almost as much as that fat arse of yours. Both are threatening to break your overgrown body out from the confines of your favourite seat.
Look at those rolls bulging out from your side, fighting with each other for space. Each one spilling out on to the previous one, creating a sea of fat waves between that bulging belly and those saggy tits of yours.
Look at those big moobs of yours, all swollen and puffy. They could probably put most women to shame, and all you had to do was sit and eat for them.
Look at those big meaty arms, how they stick out from your sides, so much soft fat on your plush body forcing them out at an awkward angle. At least for now, they can still reach for more food.
Look at how fat your face has become. How you've lost all of your bone definition. There's no sign of your jawline anymore, it's been swallowed up with soft fat. Your double chin gets squashed with every mouthful you take, yet it doesn't stop you from pushing more and more in.
Look at you, as you struggle to reach for the food in front of you. Your once muscular body has been covered in soft, plush fat, and now you can barely lean forward to pick up more food. Your thighs can't move any further apart to allow room for your overstuffed belly. You try to adjust yourself in your seat, make it easier for yourself to reach, but your arm movement is restricted by your fat, too. You move again, ignoring the groans from the chair, ignoring how out of breath you are from trying to adjust yourself, ignoring how your belly is so stuffed full that it complains with every movement.
Look at you, so stuffed full, desperately reaching for more food. Look at just how fat you've eaten yourself for me. You groan from the discomfort of your full belly, and your attempts to reach for the last burger of your feast.
I smile, and effortlessly glide across the room to pass you the rest of your meal. I give you a kiss on your chubby cheek, and gently rub that swollen belly of yours, whilst you greedily unwrap the burger and push it past your lips with an impressive speed for someone of your size. You make quick work of it, despite how tight I know your belly is, how full you must be.I smile, and walk to pick up the big, rich piece of cake I have waiting for you in the kitchen.
Look at you, so fat you're bursting out of all of your clothes. So stuffed full you can barely move. So fat, even after such a big stuffing, you can't help but smile and lick your lips when you see I have dessert ready for you.
Look at you, you're never going to be this slim again.
Seeing how the simplest of things change as your body swells with fat.
How your arms stick out slightly to accommodate your bulging sides. Your chubby arms brushing awkwardly against the soft bulging fat at the side of your chest as you lift more food up to your mouth. Your double chin is squashed into your neck as you open wide for your next bite.
How you sway as you waddle, forcing one fat leg in front of the other. Watching the resulting ripples pass over your body like a shockwave. Your steps are slow and impactful, each step heavy and laboured. Your breathing is fast and short, with every step straining you more and more, making it even harder to catch your breath.
How you have to brace yourself to stand up. Thighs apart to allow space for your big, round belly, planting your hands to the sides of your wide arse so you can use what little arm strength you have left to help you push yourself up. Rocking back and forth a bit to try and use your mass to help push you forward and up. It takes you a few attempts to make it to a standing position, your whole body quivering with the exhaustion
Bending down to put your shoes on, and realising your body is too heavy for your weakening body. After sitting down, you attempt again to reach down but your belly fills up too much space. You spread your legs apart and try your best to bend and lift your leg up whilst leaning forward as far as you can, trying to compress your fat belly into a smaller space. When you finally get your shoes on, you're panting and sweating and hungry.
Walking through the doorway, you notice your hips brush against the frame. You make a mental note to turn to the side when you waddle through doors now. Although, you're not sure how long it will be before your belly is brushing against it with every sideways step.
How much longer before you won't be able to do any of it? Won't be able to bend and move your body at all. Lose what limited mobility you have left. How much more food do you have to stuff yourself with before you're barely able to do anything but eat? I have a feeling you'll find out. It doesn't look like anything will stop you from eating anymore.
You get home and head straight for your comfy chair, your soft belly sitting on your lap. Your shirt rides up and I see a flash of embarrassment run across your face as you quickly pull it back down. Your hand lingers on your soft belly for a moment, as if you hadn't realised just how big it had grown, just how fat you'd eaten yourself. I watch you blush again as the realisation suddenly hits you, your hand snapping away from your gut as if that will suddenly make you slim again.
I smile sweetly and place some snacks down next to you , giving you a kiss on your cheek as you mumble that you're not hungry. I just smile and tell you to relax, you deserve it after a long day at work. It's only so long before your willpower runs out and you start sneakily eating the snacks. I walk past a few times to discreetly fill up the bowl, making sure you have plenty to mindlessly stuff yourself on. As your hand finally hits an empty bowl, I see your cheeks flush red again and you instinctively shift in your chair, attempting in vain to pull your shirt back down.
Here sweetheart, I have dinner for you. I watch your greedy eyes widen as you see the gigantic plate of food coming towards you. "Babe, I'm not that hungry, it's too much food" you plead with me "Aw just eat what you can, I don't want to have to go back and take food off!" I reply, an innocent smile on my face. You eat ravenously, moaning quietly with joy as you push forkful after forkful into your mouth. I make sure I only steal short glances at you. I don't want you to be aware that I'm watching you as you stuff yourself silly. I heard your fork scraping on an empty plate and look up to meet your gaze. You're blushing again.
Your chubby face is glowing red now, small remnants of food linger around your mouth as you hold my gaze. I lick my lips before delicately asking
"Would you like some more, sweetheart?"
You look away, put a hand on your belly before gently nodding. I return with another, fully loaded plate. You look up and begin to protest but I'm too fast. I swoop down and place my hand on your stuffed belly, delightedly giving it a small squeeze, feeling the permanent layer of softness that has been growing. I kiss you on your cheek and gently whisper "it's okay, a growing boy like you needs lots of food". You say nothing, I can feel the heat from your cheeks as they burn with embarrassment. But you pick up the fork again, and I know you won't be putting it back down until every last piece of food has been eaten.
You sit there dangerously stuffed full, your breathing heavy. I see another flash of red hot embarrassment as I grab your empty plate once again. "Let me get you some dessert" I say to you. Before you even have time to protest, I undo the button on your jeans and your stuffed belly plops out onto your lap. You can't help but let out a moan of relief as your stuffed belly has new room to occupy. I return with a large slice of cake and quickly sit down next to you, preparing a large forkful and holding it up to your mouth in one smooth movement. "It's okay sweetheart, you just enjoy yourself. I know how much you like your food, you don't have to be embarrassed about it, or about how your body is growing and changing. You just enjoy yourself and keep mindlessly eating. "
You look at me stunned for a second, processing everything I just said to you. You subconsciously lick your lips before letting out a sigh of relief. You open your mouth and moan lightly again as the flavours hit your tongue. I watch your face reflect the pleasure you experience as you devour the slice of cake, your stuffed belly protesting against your continued hedonism, but you don't stop. You can't stop now. When you finally finish the last bite of cake, you lean back in the chair, blushing again as you hear it creak and groan against your weight. Your breathing is heavy and laborious. I smile at you once again, before giving you a kiss on your cheek. "Now, that belly sounds like it needs a good rub whilst you carry on relaxing" you blush again but don't protest. You don't need to any more. We both know that you're fat. Stuffed and stretched out, and still hungry. Destined to grow even fatter. You nod gently before hesitantly asking "Can I have some more of that cake first?" I smile wide. You're finally ready to embrace growing fat for me.
Here let me get you something to eat! Oh sweetie, you'll waste away if you don't eat something! You poor baby, you must be starving. Here, I have some snacks for you to eat whilst you decide what you want for lunch. I can't believe you let yourself get so hungry! Why didn't you call out for me to help you? You thought you could walk to the fridge without my help? Oh baby, no wonder you're so hungry! You must have used up all of your strength and energy on that journey. No, we can't have you walking around any more. You need to save your energy sweetie. If you exercise like that you'll lose weight, and you're so small as it is. Let me go get you some extra snacks to make up for that big walk you did. I was saving this cake for later but I think you need it now. I'll go shopping soon and make sure I restock everything for you. Did you decide what you want to order yet? We need to put it through as soon as possible or you'll have to wait for so long before you can properly eat. I know you have snacks but they won't last long baby. They're just snacks, they're not a full meal. I don't want you to starve whilst you're waiting for your first lunch! You need to be constantly eating to make sure you don't waste away. That's it baby, you open that mouth of yours. Let me help feed you, I know it's tiring for you to have to lift your arm. That's why we need to fill you with more food, you need the energy sweetheart. All you need to focus on is opening your mouth for me. You just sit down and eat for me, all day, every day. It's okay baby, I'm here to look after you. I'm here to bring you everything you need. Everything you need to grow bigger for me. Open that mouth now baby, you're still not fat enough.
I stg this is the roundest I’ve ever looked. My belly keeps growing I can’t believe it 😵💫🐽 I have to practically bend down to reach the bottom of my gut now
Can't show the rest of the video for NSFW purposes 🫣
April 2024: A realistic vignette from my old blog which I'm reposting here to centralize likes/reblogs and deactivate my defunct account. (Second person feedee POV, encouragement, SFW.)
You got that little bit fatter, and now your shirts don't fit.
You can still button them up -- barely. But they're snug on the curve of your fat belly, and they just barely leave enough slack for you to tuck them into your pants under your belly hang. (Your pants are getting tight, too.) Sit down at the right angle and you can feel the buttons strain, but even when they're not, you can feel that snugness, that tightness, like a little whisper in your ear as you go through the workday: you're getting fatter.
You've had a double chin for years. But you got that little bit fatter and now you really look fat, no matter what the angle. Sit down at the right angle and you can feel your face sink into it. It feels comfortable.
You got that little bit fatter and your moobs stuck out that little bit further. Under your arms they've even turned into side rolls that you can grab a handful of and jiggle. Good thing you got that little bit fatter and your belly grew too, just to keep them in perspective.
You've had a belly for years, too. You've always been chubby. But you got that little bit fatter and now your belly is a real slab of flab, rolling over your waistline in a proper hang. You can't keep your hands off it, can you? Without even realizing that you're doing it you sometimes find yourself idly hefting it, feeling how soft and thick it's gotten, tracing your fingertips along the warm, soft line where it folds over.
Yes, you've always been chubby. But you got that little bit fatter and now you're undeniably, unmistakably fat. You can see it in people's faces sometimes, a subtle difference in the way they react when you reach for another helping of food. They're not seeing someone who's "let themselves go a little"; they're seeing a fat person, a person who loves to eat, who eats more than they're supposed to and doesn't seem to care. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't awkward sometimes, but you like it, too. You always secretly liked being fat, secretly loved to eat, even secretly fantasized about growing bigger. But you got that little bit fatter and crossed the line into properly fat and not just chubby, and now your fatness feels somehow realer, truer. You got that little bit fatter and suddenly your identity felt more secure.
You got that little bit fatter and you started testing your limits. You used to feel embarrassed by how much you could eat in a sitting. Now it feels like a challenge, and you're hooked on the excitement. You got that little bit fatter and you started enjoying going out to eat and ordering that extra appetizer, that extra dessert, even that extra entree. You got that little bit fatter and it was like giving yourself permission to embrace the glutton you've always been.
You got that little bit fatter and you liked it.
But sometimes, standing there hefting your belly hang in the mirror or lying back in your armchair and breathing heavily as you digest another big meal, it feels like it's still not enough. You're not that big. It's not like you're so fat that you can't reach past your belly. It's not like you're so fat that you can't walk.
Maybe tomorrow you'll add another snack or two to what you've already been eating. Maybe when you're in the snack aisle you'll look at the calorie counts and go for the highest one you can find. Just for fun.
You're really not that small anymore. You used to be, but clearly my eating habits have rubbed off on you. When you walk in the room, you look sturdy and soft at the same time - to me, you've never looked better. But somehow when you're under me, you still look absolutely tiny. Probably because I'm three times your size now. Where your belly is small and barely hanging yet, mine cascades out from my body in waves ending in a low hang. Where your thighs are strong with a bit of tone, mine are overflowing with fat, starting to form rolls of their own.
As I begin to straddle you and struggle to heft myself on top, it becomes clear just how much bigger I've gotten. My thick thighs practically engulf your hips as I adjust all of my bulk in just the right way, to make sure you can really feel it. I feel so powerful here.
It used to be that my belly would hardly graze yours when I was up here. Now? It hangs and weighs heavily and reaches all the way out to your chest. I watch it fall and drape over your chest on either side, engulfing you. I wonder how it feels to be you, underneath all this heavy softness that you helped create. You know that with each pound you gain, you're inching closer to having a body like mine, and the thought turns you on. The fatter I get, the more powerful I become, and the more I help you to do the same.
You reach for the box of donuts on the bedside table with one hand and poke a finger deep into my belly with the other. "Did you work up an appetite after working so hard to get on top of me?" I nod sheepishly in response. You know how much deeper your finger has started to sink over these past several months, how each bite you've watched me take has slowly added to create this enormous belly. And you want to see it grow even more so your finger can sink even further to all that soft, squishy fat.
You lift the first soft, perfectly glazed donut to my lips, and I take a bite. Delicious. I see it on your face, you love watching me enjoy every bite. Savoring at first, and then eating faster and faster, unable to stop myself from what tastes so good. As I eat, crumbs and bits of glaze fall down onto my belly and onto your chest - a complete picture of true gluttony. I catch a bit of glaze with my finger, bring it to your lips, and let you have a taste. You smile as the sweetness hits your tongue, and you can't wait for me to crack open the second box. That one is all yours.
You love this don't you? Parading you fat wobbly body around in public. Clothes not quite managing to cover all of you. You can see all the people staring, hear them whispering about the fatty whose gigantic belly is jiggling free from their clothes. I can see the flush on your cheeks, but I know it's equal parts humiliation and arousal.
As we enter the restaurant and the hostess leads us to a booth I smile inwardly. Are you going to try and squeeze into the booth you are too fat for, or are you gonna tell the hostess you need to sit at a table. You opt to attempt the booth, face beet red from embarrassment as we both watch you shimmy and jiggle yourself in. Belly pressing into the table hard by the time you are settled.
I take a seat opposite you and look over the menu carefully choosing the most calorie and fat laden things to order for you. The waitress returns with your plates stacked on a tray and asks if anyone else will be joining us. I tell her no it's all for you. Her eyes nearly bug out of her head as she begins filing the table with your feast.
As you begin to dig in I just stare at you with rapt attention. Always amazed by how much and how quickly you can eat. As you eat it seems like your embarrassment disappears, too lost in eating to care what anyone thinks. The empty plates start piling up on the side of the table. People are staring again at this fat pig eating like they haven't had a proper meal in months. How stunned would they be to know it's only been a couple hours since you last ate like this.
As you finish you lean your head back, attempting to breathe deeply. But between the amount of food in your belly and how hard the table is pushing in to your belly it's a struggle. The waitress returns, a look of disgust in her face, as she asks if we want any dessert. I smile before ordering you one of each dessert on the menu to go.
As fun as it would be to watch you eat it here I think they may have to disassemble the booth around your tubby ass if we stay. Besides I can think of a lot of fun ways to encourage you to finish it all once we are home and have you out of all those restrictive clothes. I grab you by the arm and help you heave yourself out of the booth. Before putting my arm around you to help you walk to the car. Making sure everyone in the restaurant knows your my piggy, and I'm the one who did this to you.
I wanna feel you fat belly pressing into my back everyday as I wake up. Knowing I need to get ready for work. But held back because there's too much soft warm fat in the bed that I helped you grow. To give your pudgy cheek and fat belly good morning kisses before I get up, to be able to squeeze and caress your stomach at it's softest and emptiest first thing in the morning.
To leave you a nice big breakfast as I head for work. A little note stuck to the side of the plate, telling you how much Im looking forward to coming home and feeding that sexy belly of yours. To make sure eat a lot while I'm gone so I always have more of you to love and cuddle.
To have you send me pictures of the big fattening lunch your ordered yourself while I'm gone, sometimes before and after pictures of your belly when you are having a particularly greedy day.
To come home to you napping on the couch, your stomach full and bloated. Quite the contrast from the soft flabby one I saw this morning. To go start dinner before I join you on the couch using your belly as a pillow as we wait for dinner to be ready.
To have dinner with you, always such a pleasure to see how much you can pack away. Always excited to push your limits, making a show of just how big and round you get when so full.
Then taking you by the hand and leading you and your overstuffed belly to bed so we can do it all again tomorrow.
I hear the familiar creak of the front door open just as I was finishing up dinner. The house smells delicious; I made a rich chicken pot pie, complete with homemade pie crust.
“Hi baby,” I call, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel before heading out of the kitchen to greet you. “You’re a little later than usual.” I see what looks like a pastry box in your hands. “Pick up something?”
“Maybe,” you say with a wry smile. “It’s for later, though. On my way home I saw this cute little shop I hadn’t seen before - I think it’s new - so I got us some dessert.” You kiss my cheek and take the box over to the counter, eyeing the pot pie cooling on the counter.
“Let’s eat then,” I say, “I wanna know what the surprise is.”
Once the plates are cleared after we’ve finished eating, you bring the box to the dining room table and finally show me what’s inside. Two huge apple, covered in glistening caramel are nestled within the box. There’s a card resting on top with swirling letters. I pick it up and read it aloud.
“The forbidden fruit reveals your true desires…” I trail off and place the card to the side, looking skeptically at you.
“Fun, right?” You say with a grin. “The lady at the shop had this whole Halloween vibe…I’m wondering now if it’s one of those seasonal pop ups or something.” You shrug. “Either way they looked delicious so she didn’t have to sell me on it too hard.”
The apples smell delicious - sweet and fragrant and my hand reaches to pick one up. It’s heavy.
“Well, shall we?” I ask, but you hesitate.
“Honestly, I’m really full from dinner,” you say. “You go ahead babe. I’ll eat mine tomorrow or maybe later.”
“You sure?” I ask out of courtesy, but the apple is almost already in my mouth. I bite into it and flavor explodes into my mouth. “Fuck this is good,” I say with my mouth full of sweet apple and sticky caramel.
“Good,” you say with a grin. I take another bite and your smile begins to fade a little. Your hand falls to your stomach and you frown.
“You okay?” I ask before taking another bite.
“Yeah…” you trail off. You press your hand into your middle. “I don’t know I’m just feeling really bloated all of a sudden.” A heavy belch rushes out of your mouth and you flush, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Fuck, sorry,” you say. “I think the seconds I had were a bad idea.”
You reach down to unbutton your jeans and your shirt rides up in the process, exposing your bloated belly. It seems to be resting on your lap more than I remember and horrifying realization dawns on me as your gut continues to swell before my eyes.
“Oh no,” I whisper, gently placing the apple down on the table.
“What,” you say, still massaging your gut. Another belch slips out and you groan. Your fingers are pressed into what is now a noticeable belly. Your face looks fuller, too, and I really begin to panic. You, on the other hand, don't seem to realize what's happening.
"Do you.....feel okay?"
"Just feeling really bloated all of a sudden," you say. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."
My thoughts are racing and I can't help but stare at the now noticeable gut sitting in your lap, pushing up your shirt.
"Your shirt looks a little tight," I say, throat dry.
You laugh and look down. "Yeah, I guess it is, huh? Must be time to get a new one."
It doesn't seem like you're aware of the dramatic change your body has undergone so suddenly and it's unexplainable; the only thing that could have caused it was that half eaten apple.
"Babe?" Your voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I look at your now chubbier face. You look plush and soft and you're smiling at me like you didn't just gain 60 pounds in less than 10 minutes. Of course I find this version of you attractive; I just didn't realize how much I really wanted you to gain weight until now. It wasn't something I ever brought up because your body is your own, and I love you regardless of what you look like.
"My pants are so tight, too," you say, sucking in to undo the straining button. "That pot pie really filled me up, I guess."
"Yeah...." I say. I vow to throw both of them in the garbage as soon as I can and track down that shop first thing tomorrow morning. There's nothing we can do now, though. "Do you wanna go take a shower, maybe? Get you out of those tight pants?"
Your smile broadens and your eyes twinkle. "Yeah, I think I would."
You stand and head into the bathroom and only a few moments pass before I hear the shower start to run. I slip the shop's card into my pocket and wrap the apples back up in the paper. I'll just tell you that I threw them out by accident; I'm sure you won't be too mad. I open the lid to the garbage can and hesitate, just for a moment. One more bite couldn't hurt, right?
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