wannabe death feedee

You imagine yourself being 1000+ pounds.

Just laying helplessly on a pile of soft blankets and pillows while you fall victim to the hands of your feeder. Who is without a doubt, completely in control of everything you do and eat. Not hungry? Too bad, eat. Starving? Good. Now eat. Imagine being so hopelessly obese that you can’t even roll over without assistance. Just being so stuffed with lard from consuming millions of calories that you are shamefully fat. No more “My 600 lb life” more like “My 1000 lb life”. But theres no turning back. Just your feeder rubbing your vast piles of fat while you suck down pure lard from a machine. Adding more lumpy cellulite to your asscheeks daily. Imagine your life purpose is to grow and grow and grow. Wider and heavier is your new goal. There is no end goal, just to be bigger than the day before. To please your feeder. To let yourself go. Your only chore is to swallow and swallow. Filling up more space with your profound gluttony.

Is that what you desire?

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