Kindofdraws

the most fashionable look of all time might just be tank tops riding up over soft belly pudge & low rise sweatpants digging into chubby hips

Gods, I want to be addicted to someone getting fatter. All I can think about is kissing and kneading your fat, daydreaming stuffing you until you're fit to burst, knowing that it'll make you larger and softer. Just have your gains and your hedonism consume me until it's all I can think about, all I'll ever be service to

It's so hot when a feedee says they're going to slow down after reaching their goal weight, but is genuinely struggling to control themselves. Forget losing weight, it's an impossible task for you to simply maintain the size you're already at now. You've realized it's not a game, that this is your life now and you've genuinely become fat. Your constant overeating, day in and day out, has made you addicted to food, an actual glutton. You can't turn it off, can't go back to your old ways and shed all this weight quickly like you'd intended. You're trapped in this cycle now, of stuffing yourself until you can barely move. You can't go a day eating normal sized portions. The number on the scale keeps going up and up even though you're not trying to gain weight anymore. For the first time, you're fighting to keep your weight down and it's a losing battle.

you need to get me so high i sound like a total ditz then take me to order at mcdonald’s out of breath while sipping baja blast out of my taco bell cup between each item and mutter “you must be hungry” in a condescending tone while swiping your card. buffet afterwards btw

I fantasize a lot about perma-intox feedist scenarios. A feedee who’s ultimate fantasy is to turn off their brain completely by being high 24/7 and lying in bed stuffing their face all day. Finally getting a feeder who’s into the same thing and makes enough to allow them to turn into a weed-addicted pig who can’t even focus long enough to count the number of pizza slices they’ve eaten. Just constantly high, hungry and horny, gaining pounds by the hundreds each year until they’re near bed bound from complete inactivity, not aware of the date or time and just seeking out their next hit, their next meal, their next orgasm. Brain turning as soft as their body is while their loving feeder eagerly enables every moment of it, ensuring absolute comfort for their stupid, fat pet, baking weed into every dessert and ensuring their mouth is always full of food or a blunt. Permanent, endless indulgence and hedonism brought to life in the form of pillowy rolls and heavy stretch marks from years of nonstop eating, eyes bloodshot and underwear stained with the remnants of countless orgasms from rutting into their fat gut while their feeder uses their huge body to get off. God

the good stuff