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@g-a-v-a-g-e
concept: pulling you closer by your belt loops but itβs kinda hard to slip my fingers through them because your rounded gut is pressing so heavily against the fabric and the pudge across your upper belly is spilling over the waistband and if not for how those jeans squeeze at your new softness i mightβve guessed they were painted on and oh god that poor zipperβ¦ what were we talking about? come here baby. letβs get those off of you; they look so uncomfortable.. ;)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Turns out having 5 burgers for dinner is actually enough to leave me stuck in bed with no hope of getting out of it any time soon
"You want me bigger?"
I caress a hand over your stomach, watching how even the gentle touch makes the fat undulate.
"So much bigger."
"I already feel so fucking huge," you breathe out.
"That's because we're feeding you, pet." I give your belly a few light pats. It's okay. I know you always have a hard time thinking when you eat. "You're so adorable like this."
You try to shift but your the swell and weight of your gut keeps you from moving much. All you manage is to successfully collapse back with a whimper. But beneath that pain, your pleasure is obvious. You love what you've turned into. We both do.
"God, I'm so fat."
"Mhmm. Soft, too. You want more?"
"More of what?"
You're so overfed you're still not thinking clearly.
My smile is slow. Teasing. Knowing.
"More of everything. More of it all. More food, More fat. More of this," I say, like a spell while squeezing your hang. My thumb circles the rim of your belly button.
"Fuck," you say, arm reaching around to lift and heft your swollen gut, rubbing it gingerly. You're clearly drunk on the feeling as your head falls back.
We both know your answer as you exhale loudly. It sounds like the tail-end of a silent moan. The noise you make when you know you can't help yourself, the same one you make when you're determined to eat yourself into food coma, which has become more frequent. The one that shows the conditioning worked; it's clear from the damp spot growing on your underwear. You sound and look so hot like this. You groan, as your hand sinks lower, stroking and rubbing slowly.
"You've turned me into such a pig," you breathe, lost in the feeling.
"You're the one who wanted to experiment. Who said you just wanted to try this."
"Yeah, but I didn't do this by myself," you say, grabbing your overhang roughly. "Now look at me."
I take you in. Your folds. Your chins. You big arms and soft chest. The way you don't fit in your shirt, at my request, and your belly spills out of it and onto your wide thighs.
"I see you. All of you. And I want more."
I see your resolve waver at the lust in my voice. What that has meant in the past. And you really are overstuffed. Leaden to the couch. For a moment, I offer mercy, gently massaging the discomfort away and a belch slips out.
Then, I pull out a surprise. Something I was saving. Your favorite.
Your eyes widen in delight and desperation.
We've rewired your brain, after all.
Whatever's put in front of you, you eat. It's an automatic response at this point. You reach for the food with some difficulty over the dome of your engorged middle and I hand it to you. I pat your underbelly as you open the container and dig in without another word, feasting uncontrollably, punctuated by shameless, greedy noises. My hands on your belly as you eat is just another trigger to spur your sudden, ravenous hunger. You moan at around another bite.
"More," you grunt, shoveling it in faster. The container grazes a nipple as you lift your meal closer and you pause briefly to keep yourself on edge, whimpering and rutting at the sensation, fat wobbling. You know the rules so well. You're not allowed release until you finish. Until I say so.
My fingers lightly drag and scratch along your stretchmarks. You sigh, pleased, as you stuff yourself.
You're so obedient now. We've trained you well.
"Good piggy."
Pure softness, what could be better?
Someone give me what I crave !! π©
honestly a stuffed-firm belly has the exact eroticism of an erect cock plus so so so much more
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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jesus fucking christ π΅βπ«π΅βπ«
after a long day of stuffing, this is what eating dessert is like~
it hurts, it's too much.. but it's so god damn hot and i can't stop.
longer video of this coming to OF in the next couple days :3~
I can't wait to get to this point @/////@
Sucking in is my favourite sport
Idk I feel like maybe eating a ton and playing video games is making me fat
anyone thirsty? ππ₯π
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
fucking the burps out of a very stuffed feedee. who said that.
oh fuck.. i just kept chugging and chugging and chugging and now im an engorged piggy π΅βπ«π΅βπ«
donβt think iβve ever posted a messy belly pic for yall π€
letβs see how much i bloat up from this..
i actually look fucking pregnant oh my god π₯΄π«
no padding, just some shapewear to help round out my belly and oh my god π³π³ iβm fucking huge..
When tummy gropes move. . . elsewhere, part 2 ππ
Stuffed burps, but the kind where the person is so full thereβs almost no distinguishing between the sounds that remain in their belly and the lucky few that push out of their mouth. The gaseous rumbles from their stomach, the bubbles glugging up their throat, the wet, strained belches, the tight, painful burps. Itβs all one solid wall of continuous gastric distress.
Burps chained so tightly together itβs hard to tell when one stops and the next begins. In fact, they might never fully stop burping. Each time their mouth opens a little more air seems to desperately jostle out of them. Their stomach quite literally feels like itβs in their throat. Crowding up into their chest so that when a pocket of air manages to escape itβs practically already out of their mouth.
It is absolutely involuntary. If their life depended on it they could not stop their stomach from desperately belching up every last bit of air as it works to churn through the ridiculous amount of food they packed into it. Even when they arenβt burping, gas is gurgling in their throat through every sentence. There is no thought too urgent to pause if they feel the opportunity to let out some of the pressure bloating them full. No person too important to interrupt with a desperate stomach settling belch.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
Let me be your stuffed toy
Please let me be your feedee. I have seen the way you treat your other subs; it's like they end up blowing up overnight. All those pictures of men and women with toned bodies and abs being covered by pounds of thick, jiggly fat are so hot to me. I always watched from afar cause I was worried that I wouldn't be able to stop myself once you got your controlling hands on me, but I can't hold back anymore. I keep thinking about how I was to eat my way through bags of fast food for you. I want to show you my belly and have you praise me for gaining 20 pounds a month. I want to be the best fatty you have seen by ruining all my clothes with spilling fat and a bloated gut. I want to see your sadistic smile while I hiccup and groan my way through your bulking plan of ice cream mixed with weight gain powder to leave me stuffed from breakfast to dinner. I can already feel my body begging to be used by you to make me your round ball of sexy flab. Run your beautiful nails through my crumb-covered fat folds while you kiss each of my chins. Make me wear clothes twice my size while you get rid of all my small and mediums. I don't need to think about anything but making these clothes tight for you. Let's cancel my gym membership together while you stuff my face with a celebratory 1k calorie cake. Can you imagine just how fucking big I am going to get by eating all this excess fatty and sugar without moving after work? Please let me show you how bad I want this. I promise to eat till I pop if it means I get to be your good little leftover container.
Stuffed sick
I want to put a warning for conversation that mention Emetophilia topics, since not everyone enjoys that.
I am in one of those moods where I just want to see a feedee stuffed sick. I don't want all those calories to be thrown up, but everything surrounding that fine line can be so enjoyable. You get some of the most unique sounds the human body can produce when someone is fed to the point of near starvation. As your gut is just left in this unnatural state of bulging on the sides with no give, you can feel the desperation in a pig's actions. You can hear their sad little moans as they try to burp and make room, to no avail. You get to see their overstuffed movements as they try to get comfortable. The occasional gag signifying the consequences of their greed is a treat as well. You can try to imagine why someone would push their gut so far. At what point are you just a food-filled piΓ±ata teetering on the edge of bursting because you keep listening to cruel feeders that get off on your masochism? It's even worse when a cow finishes a huge meal and suck down liters of soda. All that carbonation just leads to painful bloating that makes you look like a blimp. All those sugary calories are going to add to your fat-covered frame, but in the moment, you feel like you made a mistake. You let your pleasure corrupt your body into pushing past any signals to stop. If you have a feeder, they get to decide what 'too full' looks like. That's really how it should be for you. A fatty that doesn't know their own limits will just keep consuming till they are a groaning blob, but your feeder can make sure your belly is never empty. You can be kept at your max all day like the hog you were meant to be. I know it can be scary to be pushed so far. You worry about actually popping like those extreme fetish stories you read. You genuinely feel like your skin is forming new stretch marks, and you fight back with meat sweats while out of breath. The remarkable aspect of all this is the realization that you can become aroused by this sensation. What kind of pervert wants to be this fucking full? The pain should deter you from eating this much again, but you want to get bigger at any price. You somehow think a bloated wobbly gut isn't big enough. You want to look massive. You want to match the size of a beach ball when it is pumped up enough. I am always impressed that there are feedees who will stuff themselves immobile. It means I have to resort to desperate measures to get them to eat more. Get worryingly round for me, sleep it off, and then do it again tomorrow.
