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I really didn’t think I’d like public humiliation as much as I do. I desperately want him to take me to a restaurant in extremely tight clothes and make me eat until my clothes just rip and tear. Then he can laugh at me as I try to hide my torn clothes and lard peeking through. Then he can make me go out with him in public while handing me snacks after snacks after snacks just so he can humiliate me for being exhausted for walking from the parking lot to the restaurant and out after I’m stuffed full and continuously being fed until we get home so he can have his way with me while I’m completely immobilized.
Like please make me under dress and take me to the one food court you know has the best fast food I can’t say no to.
Please get everything with extra sauce and mayo on whatever it applies for.
Please “Forget” the tissues and napkins when you come over with the first of six trays of this meal.
Please just sit across from me without making a peep, just rubbing my thigh and under belly with your foot while I grind against the chair and eat faster.
Please wipe the edge of my lips and call me messy when the rest of my face is covered in sauce and grease.
Please keep rubbing my belly while the elastic waistband slips down and my belly pushes forward.
Please rub small circles around my belly button cause you know it’s become so sensitive I can cum from it.
Please keep fetching the other trays just before the last one runs out.
Please force me to waddle out leaning on your shoulder cause I’m not fat enough for the scooters.
Please rub my belly while I burp and moan the whole way there.
Please tease me for making such a fucking mess of myself the entire way, whispering just loud enough for the passerby’s to hear you.
the urge to make a total pig of myself in public to the point where i’m letting out enormous belches whilst still shoving food into my mouth and other diners are staring at me in disgust as the button on my shorts audibly strains against the massive wobbling mound of lard that is my overfed belly :3 bonus points if my feeder is sitting across from me and every time the waiter comes over and asks if i’m finished all i can do is burp and groan while my feeder places another order for me
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Using one hand to stuff food into a fat girls mouth while she's panting, the other hand kneading her obese tits. Distracting her from how full she is by running my fingers along her side rolls, grasping them possessively and giving them a jiggle, sending ripples across her whole upper body. Sliding my hand underneath her overhang, cupping it like the flesh is precious. Whispering to her:
"Good girl, eating so much for me... getting so big and heavy. Look at all this fat-" I say, punctuated by the soft smack of my hand meeting her skin. "Take another bite for me, I know you still have room in that huge gut of yours."
I like being told how far ive let myself go. I love being compared to how I looked when I was in shape. How I should be embarrassed instead of greedy (especially hot mid-mouthful). I also love being called a piggy or a whale or a cow, and I like hearing that everyone around me can notice how difficult it is for me to move or keep up. Or for it to be pointed out how obviously my belly is jiggling under my dress. Or how silly certain articles of clothes look on me. Edged while I’m begging for more food until I’m so greedy and horny that it’s nearly overwhelming to me. Or being made to wear something that shows off my size especially if I’m going somewhere that someone I know might see me. Or being teased about how silly I look in my [hobby] uniform with is far too small even though I have to wear it for a video sometimes. “Accidental” “belly slips”, like nip-slips but for bellies and having it pointed out in public, especially if the bottom of my belly is hanging out of a t shirt.
Soft meeting strong. Pretty in Pink, slow motion, a little sweetness shared and a lot of laughter in between. 🍰✨
There’s something about the way movement looks when time slows down — how every shake and sway tells its own small story. The contrast of bodies, the quiet rhythm, the warmth of a hand resting against softness… it’s all a reminder that connection can be equal parts gentle and powerful.
Pink has a way of catching the light, of turning something simple into something that feels almost cinematic. Watching it back, I see joy, comfort, and the kind of ease that can’t be faked.
Sweet, slow, and a little mesmerizing — just the way I like it.
that healthplay post is living rent free in my brain 🫠 i wanna have weekly “checkup” sessions with my growing piggy where i weigh her and check her bpm n blood pressure and use calipers to grip her fat rolls n measure her subcutaneous fat deposits and measure every inch of her growing body and coo about how shockingly fat she’s getting while i write it all down on my lil clipboard. then use all that data to make cute lil graphs n charts of all the numbers going up that i can stick on the mirror for her to look at next to the reflection of her massively obese body while i’m pouring wg shakes down her throat every night
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Jamie loved being paraded around by their feeder in public. They used to be shy, small, relegated to blending into the background wherever they went, almost trying not to be noticed. But now they weren't just big, they were fat. They took up space; more space every day. When they walked, people moved to the side. They weren't invisible anymore, they had eyes on them everywhere they went. Their big, pale belly wobbling out of their shirt as they shuffled around from place to place, looking so delightfully heavy and overfed.
And it felt like an extra treat whenever they got taken out for a meal in public. Even if so very many of their extra pounds had been piled on on their own, then at the hands of their loving, doting feeder, going out and feasting was an experience they eagerly anticipated.
Jamie's belly rumbled loudly as they shuffled through the door of the burger joint, their wide hips just brushing the frame. Their feeder's hands were on their belly, giving a reassuring pat, before they parted so Jamie could find suitable seating before the food came. Sitting was something at which Jamie had become quite adept, but fitting into a public seat was another matter entirely…
A thick blob of belly spilled onto the table as the booth threatened to cleave Jamie in two, but their belly was too ravenous to be bothered. Every detail about the outing drove them wild: the vaguely greasy air in the place, the occasional glance from a passerby who couldn't help but marvel at their enormity…
But nothing had their heart pounding like the moment their feeder returned to the table, neatly folding a long receipt into their pocket. Jamie's hands worked their belly under the table, stoking the fires of their hunger hotter and hotter. The routine of it was exhilarating. The way the worker struggled to balance all the trays onto the table, apologizing when one pushed into their belly; the way they looked at Jamie like they couldn't possibly eat all of this food.
And yet Jamie looked exactly like the type of person who was going to eat all that food. Jamie wasn't a neat eater, either, not anymore. Their feeder brought napkins, but the speed and ferocity of their bites was more than a few paper-thin napkins could manage. Under the table, Jamie's feeder's hands softly worked their flab, roll by roll, telling them what a good, greedy piggy they'd become. Every bite made Jamie's clothes feel so tight and made the table dig in even further, but that only made the gluttonous feelings more irresistible.
Every jostle in the booth had the seat groaning, every nonempty wrapper found its way into their hands, their feeders proud, encouraging gaze filling Jamie up more than the food, even. Food slid into reach as their belly forced them back from the table more and more. Jamie's chewing slowed, the heavy, stuffed feeling intensifying with every patty they crammed into their mouth. When the meal was done, and the near-countless calories consumed, Jamie's denouement arrived: the return trip.
Their feeder knew better than to offer Jamie help, they enjoyed the struggle of the booth fighting back too much to want anything else. A pull, a strain, a wobble, a shimmy, a huff, a stifled burp, a groan, and finally a heave onto their feet, the now-engorged globe that was their gut falling out of their shirt even more than before. Each step felt like a titillating trial for their overfed body, their heavy breathing attracting more stares than ever. But there was their feeder's comforting embrace, squeezing and steadying their hand.
The mountain of wrappers and bags tumbled into the garbage can. Jamie caught a glimpse of their reflection in the glass exit door, exhaling with exhilaration about how completely they'd surrendered to the gluttony they'd always known was bubbling inside them. The brush of the doorway, the sag of the car as they plopped back down into their seat, the feeling of their feeders hands on their middle as the extended seatbelt was clicked into place so Jamie didn't have to try and reach.
"They're going to need a bigger booth for you," their feeder said, patting Jamie's belly affectionately. Jamie sank into the seat, already melting at the thought of what their next public porker session would be like with all the weight they would gain before then.
"They're going to need a bigger door for me," Jamie grinned, still buzzing with the excitement of their meal.
Your family thinks that what fat pig. The reactions of them are priceless especially your huge belly. You should were something tight to the next family dinner and stuff yourself as much you can like a fat pig and then see there reactions.
The doorbell rings. I look up from the TV, where I was focused on a video game. I have to focus very hard if I want to make any progress, otherwise my fat fingers or constantly intoxicated mind will mess me up. I look around expectantly, waiting for my feeder to run down the hallway and bring my food to me
*ding dong*
Where are they? I feel my stomach rumble from sudden hunger, despite the fact that I had finished a bag of chips and a 2 liter of soda minutes ago. Then suddenly, through my haze filled mind, a memory pokes out. My feeder leaving the house to pick up some more weed and booze. Shit. They’re not back yet.
*ding dong*
The delivery driver is getting impatient I’m sure. I guess I’ll just have to get the food. I can’t remember the last time I stood up without help, but I’m starting to get desperate. I shift my body forwards, pushing my belly forwards in hopes that it helps to counteract my fat ass. I brace against the arm of the couch and heave myself forwards. Somehow, miraculously, I’m able to stand up. I instantly want to sit back down. My body is so heavy and clumsy. My belly hangs 6 inches above my knees, not covering them yet, but getting there. I’m already wheezing and I haven’t even taken a single step.
*ding dong ding dong*
Fuck, they’re gonna leave soon with my food. My belly grumbles. I brace myself and start to waddle forward. My thighs force my legs apart so walking normally is absolutely out of the question. Each step makes my belly slap against my thighs, making it difficult to move my legs very much. My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest, and I get a stitch in my side from how hard I’m breathing.
“COMING”
I manage to wheeze out, hoping it was loud enough for the delivery driver to hear. Fuck me, when did I get so out of shape? I start to realize how fat I’ve gotten, slightly sobering up for the first time in… days? Months? Years? I’m not sure. I realize how truly obese and unhealthy I am and start to panic, I’m getting huge, how did I let myself go so badly? Just then I hear voices outside the door and a key in the lock.
“I’m so sorry piggy!” My feeder says as they come through the door with the food from the delivery driver, as well as bags full of alcohol and weed. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone so long! I thought I would be back by the time the delivery driver got here, but there was an accident on the freeway and- what’s wrong Piggy?”
I realize I must look panicked. “Nothing!” I try to wheeze out but my feeder cuts me off.
“Oh, piggy must have run out of vodka and edibles while I was out. It’s a good thing I arrived when I did” they laugh as they pass me a shot. I down it without thinking, not even considering that maybe I shouldn’t have done that. They give me an edible that i don’t know the dosage of, which I eat before doing another shot.
“There you go piggy, get nice and relaxed for me” my feeder purrs to me. I feel the shots start to hit me as warmth floods through my body. I giggle and waddle my way back to the couch. Luckily i didn’t make it very far so the journey back was easy. I plop back on the couch, which whines underneath me, and without even waiting to catch my breath, rip into one of the takeout containers my feeder held. I moan as the food enters my mouth, it tastes so fucking good. What was I worried about? Eh, who cares. I dig into the greasy burger as my feeder praises me and plays with my gut, and makes sure to keep a constant stream of beers and bong hits going into me
“I shouldn’t eat another plate. I’m starting to gain some weight” You tell me, even though you are practically drooling at the sight of food.
Your weight gain is undeniable, your clothes have been fitting less and walking upstairs has become a chore. You spend most of your days at home playing games and snacking on stuff, all it takes is for me to leave them out and refill your drinks when you’re running low because you are so absorbed playing games you don’t notice you are on your third bag of chips.
“Oh, really? I could barely tell,” I act surprised , as if I’m not the cause. “Food tastes best when still warm though, are you sure you don’t want more?” at this point I can tell you are fighting against your own desires. To make matters worse I’m already holding up the spoon to your mouth, sitting down on your lap and leaving kisses around your shoulders.
“Well maybe one more day of indulging won’t hurt…” At this point I can’t help but smile, once again I have made you do exactly what I wanted. I push the food in your mouth and hear you moan under your breath, groaning at how painfully stuffed your belly is.
“Let me help you” I tell you with a smile, rubbing your overstuffed gut as I keep feeding you plate after plate, you don’t even notice you finished the entire thing before falling into a food coma.
But it never stops after one day of indulging. Before you know it three servings has become your regular portion. Asking me to feed you more even though you’re painfully full happens almost daily and you get whiny when your snacks don’t refill themselves. Sweatpants have fully replaced your regular ones and you never bring up holding yourself back anymore.
At this point your weight has become undeniable, I pinch your growing sides while you are laying on the couch one day and you unconsciously moan. “Baby you seem to be getting fat, what happened to you?” I smile at you innocently, while feeding you more sweets… “Look at how much you’ve been eating, you will only keep getting bigger if you keep going like this.” I rub the underside of your belly hang, and try lifting it up, which makes you aware of how much weight you have actually put on
This would make anyone reconsider their own gains, but it has the opposite effect on you, you get more aroused than you thought possible. You start craving it, you want to get bigger, gluttony just feels undeniably good. “More… Please feed me more” You moan, almost beg. And who am I to say no? I’m the reason you are like this after all.
Don’t worry baby, I won’t let you go hungry. Open up for me💕
By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to get up anymore ~
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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