Chaos Corner

To be force fed until I'm sobbing and whimpering. Bonus points if those cries are muffled by more food.

To be tied up and stuffed until the ropes are merely decorational because there is no way I'm escaping by that point.

To be funnel fed shakes after every feeding to make sure my belly is absolutely stretched to its limit.

To be fucked from behind while I eat cake on my hands and knees. Make this a regular thing until I am too fat to do it.

To get so fat I can't do anything but eat and grow even bigger for you.

To be weighed and measured often to ensure I'm gaining fast enough.

To have photos taken of me at every milestone so I can look back on how much I've gained.

To be collared like a good little pet only to outgrow every collar. Eventually, these will be hidden under my chins, but I still want the reminder that I'm owned.

You said I was made for this… Made to be a Soft, Spoiled, Pregnant Trophy Wife. Made to be Your Swollen Breeding Cow to knock up.  Made to be kept at home & Pampered while my belly gets Rounder. Made to have no worries & no purpose except Grow your babies & get Fat for You.

Now I’m Yours.  I don’t belong to myself anymore. Not since You Claimed Me.  Yours to Breed,Fatten, & make more Dependent with each litter. Your Baby Factory that never shuts down,because You Own Me. Ruined by Your love—Dumb, Docile, & Dripping Full of Your Cum. 

I spend my days Waddling around in clothes that don’t fit anymore,tummy peeking out from Indulging in every craving. Out of breath from how Heavy you’ve made me. You rub my belly & call me a Good Girl so everyone can see how proud You are for doing this to me. My body changed by You. Hips Wide, breasts Swollen, belly Full. Every inch of me shaped by You, Stretched by You, Owned by You. I forget what it feels like to be empty.  After each litter You just push me down, lift my dress, and put another baby in me because You can. Because I’m Yours.

You said I was Made For This….. And You Were Right.

Feedism as a way to say fuck you to the government and racist/misogynistic beauty standards

Feedism as a way to meet your gender transition goals

Feedism as a way to connect with your partner

Feedism as a way to show love and pleasure to your body

Feedism for the sake of sex, art, food

Feedism as a measure of personal success

Feedism as a side effect of learning to cook

Feedism as a way to reclaim your body after trauma

Feedism in combination with fitness and bodybuilding to get muscular and fat

Having a fatty so stuffed that they can’t sit up. Let them try a few times, roll around a bit only to realize that they’ve eaten themselves right onto their backs and they’re helplessly stuck.

That’s when you can kiss them all over: mouth, nips, belly, inside the thighs. That’s when you can hear their breathing get almost as heavy as they are; panting, heaving, moaning. 

You know what I want. Tie me to the chair, put a funnel in my mouth, and fill my stomach as much as possible. I'm just an obedient mountain of fat. My job is to swallow, and only you decide when to stop.

Once everything is set up, the rush of chocolate & sugar hits me all at once. It's flowing into my mouth so fast & if I don't swallow with pace, I drown, forcing me to intake every drop.

I moan between muffled begs for freedom, but you stand firm. Pouring more shake to clog up whatever gap of air remaining.

Against the ropes I try to fight which leads to them digging into my soft lard until I finally give up. My body relaxes & accepts the treatment.

"good girl...." You purr, "we have more honey, keep it up." As a big hand slaps my even bigger tight belly. Droplets of chocolate spilling onto the round orb between my two huge udders.

My belly stretches, the skin taut, my heart melting. My whimpers echo through the room. You stare in enjoyment as you play & jiggle every pound of fat. "All mine, you're all mine. Just keep drinking, I need more of you. I want you to be my big immobile wife." I moan in response as I near the bottom of the gallon.

Then finally, the sound of an empty straw fills the room. You rip the tape off my mouth, "you're free cow. I'd like to see you walk now." The ropes come off & my first attempt at standing is met with me toppling over.