Cloudsofnothing~

“Cry”

I breathe into your ear, my voice low, twisted.

Blazing, flushed, swollen. Clammy, shivering, pinkish, your hilariously turgid cheeks quiver with every half muffled, discordant squeal of horror you choke out of that abused, slobbering gullet.

God, just the pitiful sight of you makes me fucking laugh, my dying slaughter pig.

They’re intoxicating, your syrupy tears that sear your burning, engorged face. I can almost lick off the saccharine terror that oozes through your dulled down stare, drenching your absurdly chilling yelps in a viscous, sweet veil. A shard of raw emotion and buried conscience desperately claws out through the cries, melting into the suffocating darkness of the room.

I teasingly trace down your cold forehead, pinching your face and you attempt to wince, your sugary tears sinking into my hands as I smile down at you perversely. I feel your bruised, rotting, sludge filled flesh, dragging a finger along your freshly branded title ‘Pig’, caressing the darkened blood stains that linger around those shameful letters. I’m met with discordant sobs diluted by inhumane snorts, soaking in the despair you decay in.

You lie there, pitiful, smothered in tubs of cheap white frosting, thickened grease that hisses on your jolting chest, sticky dollops of chocolate smeared around, all glazed with your hollow pig tears. The casing of the bariatric casket gnaws at your raw, blistering adipose, the gleaming wooden casing silken to the touch.

You really do look ridiculous, pleading and choking on your own gelatinous tears, waiting, crying. Profound agony strangles you, squeezing your slop filled, engorged little heart. Too bad, piggy. It’s time.

So cry for me.

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 🤍

Miserably fat has a look. You lay still. Still. Shifting around to get comfortable used to have its purpose. Adjusting how your fat hung, how it sagged. That doesn't quite happen anymore. There's no momentum to lift your back off of your stack of pillows. There's no strength. Heaving yourself, coordinating your bulky legs, using that little tiny bit of strength to move an inch or two? It's hard. Discomforting. Even more than being mildly uncomfortable as you lay. So you choose to lay as you are. Arms fairly useless to your sides. Your fat face pressing into your chest. Breathing loud.

Miserably fat has a personality. When every previously unthinking action becomes difficult, it's hard to multitask on the most basic things. Conversations are halting. You lose your place on the topic because you need to stretch your leg. You need to find that energy and will power to exert yourself in the way someone might need to sprint up the stairs. Then there's the whole catching your breath thing.

Miserably fat has a behavior. A fixation around food. Every hour, you feel that boredom of being stuck on the couch, in bed. TV and movies and games don't always cut it. You can eat. It makes everything so much more enjoyable. It's like the difference of driving a car with or without music playing. You need that extra boost to get through your day. It's rude, in a way. To be withdrawn into your food. Loudly eating, letting your brain go silent.