Fatlifeshortlife

Let me be your experiment.

Do whatever you want with me.

Choke me, bound me, gag me, smack my ass and degrade me.

Call me your fat piggy slut.

Roll me over and fuck me while my face is buried in slop.

Feed me while you fuck me.

Watch me wriggle and writhe while you mercilessly stuff my insides.

Grow me real fucking big.

Force feed me until my legs no longer need to be spread with a spreader bar.

Let me pass 600 lbs with ease.

Call me your worthless pile of lard while you fuck my mouth.

That's the only thing I'm good for is eating.

Use all of my holes. Make sure all 3 are filled.

Stuff cake down my throat until I nearly choke and drown it down with milk.

Fill me with sugar and keep me dumb.

Mold me into your own mindless blob.

Tell me I'm just being used to store fat and my life has no other purpose.

Only to grow.

Remind me of how useless I've become since getting too fat to even roll myself over.

Even you struggle to roll me over, but you do. Just to fuck me and jiggle my huge ass cheeks.

My ass is growing too big for you to reach anything.

My stomach is permanently bloated with thick gaining shake constantly flowing into me.

Stuff me passed 800 lbs.

Tell me I've become a useless sack of lard only to be filled with blubber until I pop.

Whisper how you'll send me to an early grave just by feeding me to death. Then you'll move on to the next hog.

Another young life taken by obesity.

Or buried, you should say.

Bring me endless piles of burgers and pizza to devour.

Dump gallons of grease into your feeding tube and don't stop until my chest starts to tighten.

I need my arteries thick with fat along with the rest of my body.

Heart engulfed in fat.

Organs surrounded by fat.

My options will soon limit.

I chose this life and you chose to enable me.

A life of gluttony with no sense of self control.

Now make me pay for it.

Watch me swallow globs of cake batter and frosting.

Hear my monstrous belly gurgle from indigestion that I choose to ignore.

Funnel feed me until there are tears filling my eyes.

My heart pounds.

My head spins.

Watch as I glut myself up to 1500 lbs.

My arms and legs so filled with fat that they lay uselessly by my sides.

Mounds of fleshy rolls draping over every inch of my body, pinning me down.

More.

More you pump into me while rubbing my plump mound engulfing my pussy, your hand swallowed by two globs of thigh fat.

My body working hard just to find places to fit more fat.

Tell me if I keep going you'll need a crane just to haul my enormous body out when you're done with me.

Let me feel like an object.

Something you just want to use for your own self gratification.

My struggling will subside and I will completely submit. It's the only thing left to do.

To lay like a hopeless hog, too fat to do anything other than eat.

Gorging. Growing. Widening.

Your lust for more of me will blind you.

You'll be so entangled with forcing me to grow you yourself will become out of control.

Pushing more into me, more food and calories than any human should consume.

You won't care. You just want your pleasure. Your satisfaction. You want to see the scale only go up and never down.

I'll be a mess. A wheezing, gasping, heavy mess.

But I'll have nothing left to choose.

Just to eat and grow.

While you play with my body and watch it spread, proud of what you have made.

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I don't think anyone should celebrate a 50lb gain without signing away a piece of their former life for the feeder to handle. It should hit you hard. It should make the feeder more involved. As scary as it might be to approach a new milestone, it simply means your feeder will be forced to spend more effort on you. This is fine, we are destined to fall into this spiral and inescapable decline together, right? You can't escape your future.

Think of all the hard conversations you can avoid when you are told what is going to happen. It shouldn't be up to you to make the call about your comfort, your submissive mind isn't built to advocate for yourself like that. You want a strong-minded, dominant feeder figure to let you know what is happening, when it will happen.

Even with traveling, the rules can be so layered.

300lbs, you no longer deal with parking lots and walking. You are dropped off close. You sit on a bench and wait for your feeder. Why be forced to walk further than the length of your home because you want to experience something as simple as a restaurant?

350lbs, you are given a seatbelt extender. When you leave home, it is no longer checking for phone/wallet/keys. You add the extender to that list. You bring it with you. An accessory.

400lbs, you no longer travel without snacks in the car, or multiple stops for a longer trip. Getting packed into a seat is uncomfortable by now, you should be rewarded with a source of food.

450lbs, you may be forced to sit in the back seat. The passenger seat is moved all the way up to allow your meaty thighs some room. People will understand that you don't drive anymore, or that you won't go anywhere without your personal accommodation, it's easier.

500lbs, you start finding yourself waiting for the van to load you up in the back on your scooter. Climbing that extra step into the car is difficult with how heavy your legs are becoming. Getting out is a falling hazard. This is your new reality, being loaded up into the back like cattle.

Imagine the relief, dread, or fear of approaching a milestone with these rules in place for all facets of your daily life. Traveling, your bathing routine, your steps in the house, your eating habits, your *permission to even leave home to begin with*. Knowing this particular meal is going to be the one that will forbid you from walking alone in the house without a walker. Knowing your activity is prescribed to be reduced by 50% with each set of rules. Having your new set of rights read to you as it dawns on you how much your weight is piling up around you, how you have to admit that certain fatties like yourself become helpless for a reason.