Hannah's Hangout

I just want someone to keep me lazy and spoiled til I'm too fat to do anything on my own 🥺

One day I'm going to invite you over for dinner. As you come in and take a seat, I'll light up a joint and press it into your hand. The smoke wafts up into the air, mixing with a pleasant aroma of spices- paprika, za'atar, garlic. The table is set for two. But the spread between the two plates looks like it should be set for 6. I pour you a glass of dark red wine, and a light glass for myself. As you start to fill your plate with shawarma, falafel, and spiced nuts, I settle in with tabbouli salad. Unbeknownst to you I have poured cannabis oil over everything but for the salad. Which is not to say I don't grab some falafel for myself! But as I watch your cheeks bulging with my meal, I wonder how soon the weed will turn on the munchies. Your stomach soon stretches widely and low across your lap, and I see the bottom of your shirt lift just a hair as you reach crudely across the table to grab a fistful of naan. It must be working because nobody of sober mind would gorge so greedily. I suspect you'll be back again soon!

There’s just something about a spoiled feedee, already stuffed full, whining and begging for more food. Complaining about being hungry even after stuffing their face all day. It always gets me

😍😍

🤤🤤🤤

🐷🐷🐷

👀👀👀

okay but like, who what when where

Eat until your buttons burst and then keep eating piggies.

I want nothing more than a disfigured mass of fat to own and abuse. Watching you struggle to do the most simple of tasks, watching you rise like dough from every strained breath. Knowing that I’ve made you this way, knowing that you’ve surrender everything to live this way. Treating you like a play-thing that needs ‘attended to’ after I’m done rather than a person. You’re my slab of fat to own and destroy. Mine.

Can I live under there?

Let Me keep making these until it hurts for you to breathe.