Cloudsofnothing~

You groan, tired and helpless, pushing yourself upright with both hands while your belly sloshes around unpredictably — a completely separate entity from you. You’re already winded. We haven’t even started the day.

“Good morning fatass” I coo, leaning in to kiss your sweat-damp temple. “Enjoy being able to get out of bed while you still can. It shouldn’t be long now.”

You shoot me a look, half blushing, half flushed from the movement, and try to get to your feet. The swaying of your body with the slightest movement is unavoidable now. You don’t walk at all; you waddle. You don’t step; you haul. All that lard packed tight onto your thighs, slapping and jostling against itself, belly dragging you downward like an anchor of pure fat.

I trail behind you as you lumber toward the bathroom, and I can’t stop smiling. The way every inch of you bounces and sways. The slow, rhythmic harmony of your belly chafing on your thighs and the floorboards creaking is hypnotic. And when you finally pull yourself into the shower and plop down onto the shower chair, you let out a huff that can only be interpreted as a sigh of relief. Because we both know you barely made it. 

When you come out, you use your gut to ground the towel in place around your waist, and you sit on the edge of the toilet. I hand you your socks and wait. Watch. You try to lift your leg to cross your ankle over your knee, but your belly presses up into your chest. You have to lean back to breathe multiple times, and I can’t hide the fact that your immense struggle at the simple task of putting on socks is making me squirm with pleasure. You roll them half on and you’re left red-faced and gasping. I can see the sweat pooling at your collarbone.

“You ever think about how permanent this is?” I say as I pinch a lump of your triple chin between my fingers. “How this isn’t weight you can ever lose? It’s your whole life now. You’re never getting smaller. There’s no ‘bouncing back.’ Your body is ruined, baby. Completely useless except to me. And all because you're such a hopeless, impotent glutton.

i want you bigger. lazier.

i want you hungrier. i want you going to bed each night stuffed, and waking up each morning a little softer and puffier than the day before. shirts fitting tighter, pants becoming harder to button.

i want you desperate. constantly craving, constantly thinking about eating and getting fatter. when you’re not eating, i want you thinking, fantasizing about it.

and when you do eat, i want you giving in to it completely. mindlessly swallowing thousands of calories, moaning as you eat. oinking when you’re finished. i want you losing track of yourself, focused solely on the taste of the food and the feeling of your gut filling up until it aches.

so helpless and pig-brained that it’s all you think about. all you desire. and maybe you’re dimly aware of the fact that you can’t stop. maybe part of you knows that your level of addiction is unhealthy, and that every stuffing just feeds into it more and more. that every time you get turned on by stuffing yourself, or by playing with your fat, or even just by observing the changes to your body as you gain, you push yourself deeper and deeper down the path of no return.

but any concern or self-awareness is far overshadowed by the pure pleasure you’re chasing. the pleasure of being overstuffed to the point of discomfort, of waking up bigger the next day. tighter clothes, and the feeling of soft fat as it clings your body. all of it just feels too good. you can’t help yourself. you can’t stop, and you don’t want to (though you and i both know that wanting to wouldn’t change anything).

i want your gluttony to consume you until it dictates every choice you make. i want you huge. hopelessly addicted. make yourself a symbol of gluttony, a cautionary tale to ordinary members of society.

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...

Being too fat, too heavy, too large to even move? My God, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes or hands off of you.

Isn't immobility through morbid obesity the ultimate BDSM experience?

It's like being tied down, but instead of ropes and handcuffs restricting you... it's your actual size. It's permanent.

You can't just be untied after cumming. You'd still be trapped. You'd still be too fat to move.

Come see me stuff my belly into these tight panties over on OF. So tight they take my breath away 😋🐷

I wish I was straddling you and your thick belly right now... I wish I was teasing you, sliding my hands along your jiggly flab and sliding along your cock with my soaking wet pussy lips, asking you if you're hungry... because I woke up and can't fall back to sleep until I know you're going to wake up fatter.

I want to feel your cock twitching beneath me, aching to be inside me, but you know theres a 2,000 calorie entry fee...

so you're going to have to tap into your bedside oreo reserve and I'll bring out some heavy cream and we'll have ourselves a sleepy milk and cookies stuffing. You'll already be in a haze, not fully awake but still fully eager to eat and fuck in this dreamy state.

You'll feel me completely coating your cock with my wetness as I shove oreo after oreo past your piggy lips, my dripping pussy lips sliding along the underside of your throbbing cock. Sometimes I tease the tip a bit, grinding on it, parting my lips ever so slightly, pretending like I might let you slide in early, only to giggle pull away and slide more cookies in your moaning mouth instead.

You'll get more and more greedy the more I tease you... youll be able to feel my pussy pulsing even from the outside and you'll want nothing more than to have your dick buried deep inside me, so you'll eat faster... so fast you might even accidentally overachieve and eat an extra 500 calories because you're so lost in how good it feels just to ache for me, knowing it won't be long before you have me. You love the feeling of being a stuffed pig so much that eating can put you in a blissful trance, especially when youre this sleepy and horny and desperate to please me. You don't even realize how much you're eating, you're just following the pleasure in front of you.

And then when you do finish your 3,000 calories(lol oops! how did that happen?) I dont want you moving, I want you lying down so I can use you for my own enjoyment. You're my big, fat, overfed toy just here for my pleasure, to help me fall back asleep and then you can fall into your second food coma of the day (your 1am funneling was the first one before this 5am binge).

I want to feel your wobbly belly undeath me and your eager hands all over my body, squeezing my fat ass while I jiggle your tits. I want to hear you gasp while I slide onto you, feeling you spread me apart while I continue to shove more cookies in your mouth just to make sure I'm training you well, so every time you eat you think of this, you think of my pussy sliding on to your aching cock, giving you some relief while also somehow making you even hungrier.

I'll let you finish once we get another 500 calories in you, but I'll take my time, I'll make sure you enjoy every bite and beg for more. I'll keep you right on that edge of cumming where you completely lose track of time, where your body feels electric, where you almost feel high just from the feeling of my pussy squeezing you every time you moan and beg to be filled even more, making you more ravenous and eat even more like a pathetic piggy.

We'll feel completely intertwined, my desires taking over your entire being, making you twitch and shake involuntarily, making you lose control of your body to me, making you my piggy puppet... you, your appetite, your flab, your greedy mind, your cum, those all belong to me and only when you fully feel that loss of control (and once you've consumed enough calories to add another pound of blubber to your softening, former fit boy body so I can rest easy knowing there will be more of you to play with in the morning) once I can tell you've completely lost yourself to me, thats when I'll let you cum, exploding inside me and feeling that release throughout your entire body, each wave of pleasure extended by the rippling of your flab throughout your pudgy body.

Being too fat, too heavy, too large to even move? My God, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes or hands off of you.

Isn't immobility through morbid obesity the ultimate BDSM experience?

It's like being tied down, but instead of ropes and handcuffs restricting you... it's your actual size. It's permanent.

You can't just be untied after cumming. You'd still be trapped. You'd still be too fat to move.

Don’t waste your waist

i would love to catch one of them and take over, but every time they get close i shove sugary donuts in their mouth and slow down. over and over until they cum in the midst of a ruined orgasm and fall into a food coma right after ~

waking up still horny, struggling to think straight but unable to sit up because their stomach is too full <33 handing them more sugary food, straddling their lap and putting their belly on top of my legs while i lightly tease them for being such a greedy little pig with no self control who can only think about cumming~

A grunt when you rise from your chair, a wobble in your step, thighs brushing closer than before.

Then the struggles pile on.

The couch creaks under you, the computer chair pinches at your love handles, and just standing up leaves you panting.

Your car? A tight squeeze, steering wheel pressed into your gut, every drive another reminder you’ve outgrown control.

Clothes? Buttons bursting, waistbands cutting deep, new sizes bought only to be ruined in weeks.

You’ll eye a scooter in the store, the thought creeping in that wheels might carry your lard better than your useless giant obese legs.

Flights? Forget one seat. Two, maybe three, and strangers starring at your giant blubbery body spilling into their space.

One day, you’ll even hesitate at doorways. Not because you’re unsure, but because you won’t fit anymore.

Even leaving the bed each morning will feel like a battle. Panting, sweating, just to waddle toward the kitchen for your next fix.

And then comes the part you never expected,

Just moving around itself turns erotic. Your thighs swell so massive, so obscene, they grind in symphony with your fupa against whatever’s left of your cock, whatever’s buried of your cunt.

Every step a spark. Every waddle an orgasm.

A pig so ruined by greed you can’t even walk without cumming. Too far gone.

This is where gluttony leads, piggy.

Not fitness. Not health. But paradise.

Beautiful, perfect paradise into extreme, irreversible obesity.

The kind only your goddess could whisper you into.

And you’ll love it. Eat more.

Every wheeze, every moan, every humiliating step deeper into euphoria.

Because this is who you are.

A piece of lard forever growing.

A slave to gluttony forever 🤍