princess

•feedist (feedee/feeder) •weight gain blog •FFA •FA •fat positive blog •anything feedism or fat related :)

okay, piggy. prove it. drink this shake every day for the next few weeks and watch what it does to your body.

ingredients:

Base:

2 cups (16oz) heavy cream 800 cals

1 cup of whole milk (add more or less depending on your desired thickness) 150 cals

A pint of melted ice cream (must be "premium" ice cream like Häagen-Dazs or Ben & Jerry's) 1,000 cals

2 servings of Mass Gainer powder (Cals are for the Dymatize Super Mass Gainer Rich Chocolate, but use whatever brand you can get your hands on) 2,500 cals

Half a can (7oz) of sweetened condensed milk 910 cals

(Optional) 1 cup of frozen banana

Add-ons:

1/3 cup of chocolate syrup and/or caramel sauce 300 cals

4 tbsp of peanut butter or hazelnut spread 380 cals

1 cup of mini chocolate chips 800 cals

1/2 cup of marshmallow fluff 165 calories

Whipped Cream (for topping)

note: these are very approximate calorie estimates based off of some very basic google searches, so they could be totally off. i'm a slut, not a scientist, so make your own calculations if you please.

Throw together your base of heavy cream, whole milk, melted ice cream, mass gainer, and condensed milk into a blender.

Then add your chocolate and/or caramel syrup, peanut butter and/or nutella, marshmallow fluff, etc.

You should skip the chocolate chips and choose an ice cream flavor without a ton of chunks/big pieces if you're planning on using a funnel.

Blend everything together, top with an obscene amount of whipped cream, and then drink up every drop like the greedy piggy you are.

This shouldn't be something that you have to choke down; substitute and add whatever sickeningly sweet toppings and add-ons that you like until you become addicted to the taste. Play with the recipe, try adding maltodextrin or melted butter or a box of cake mix. Do anything and everything to make this shake as easy to add into your daily routine as possible.

Just the base of this shake alone without any add-ons should add up to be over 5,200 calories. Do you have any idea how fat you're going to get if you're adding an extra 5000+ calories on top of your already unhealthy/high calorie diet? Imagine if you blended in a couple of those add-ons. You'll be exploding with fat in no time.

Before long the questions will turn into sighs, the sighs into stares. There will be whispered conversations that end as you return to the table with an overladen plate. Again. Someone will start to say...something...and the group will silence them. You'll look to me, shrug it off. Maybe it should bother you, but I squeeze your thigh under the table as you settle back in and suddenly you're starving.

At the end of the night there will be a moment of stillness, held breath, as you wedge yourself from a booth that's grown tighter over the course of the evening. Looks back and forth. No one says a word. Your cheeks flushed red with effort, embarrassment at being caught out. I can almost feel them wondering if this will be it - the moment you finally realize what you've done to yourself. I almost hold my breath with them, but then -

I cuddle up to your side, one hand around your back, the other just barely brushing your beltline. You're not even full, yet, my poor darling. You've been so cautious tonight. I rise up on my toes to kiss your face, suggest softly that I bring the car to the front. Is that panic in your eyes? But no, these are your friends. And it's such a long walk across the parking lot.

You'll have to make small talk around the table as everyone slips easily into coats. They all seem to glide across the restaurant, highlighting your slightly halting gait - not full, yet, but heavy nonetheless. At the door as you wait, someone finally breaks free of the group hypnosis, and makes an awkward start. Are you sure...is everything...that is...and finally, "You good, though?"

As he says it your phone lights up with a text message confirming the dessert order I've placed for pick up on the way home. You type something to me, watch headlights fill the dark space outside the door. As you hit send on a request for a drive-through run first, you smile at him.

They seem someone excited to try out a new restaurant accidentally order too much. It wasn’t an accident. It won’t be too much.

They see someone playfully feeding their partner a bite of pancakes. They don’t see the way you’ve been daring me to do it from across the table.

You’ve gotten so oblivious since we started dating.

                You’ve been happy. That’s obvious. You can see it on your face, how content you are, how comfortable you’ve gotten. How docile. I’ve been treating you well. And you’ve let me. You’ve allowed me to spoil you, to pamper you. And all that relationship satisfaction has certainly taken a toll. On your mood, on your mental health. Everything has improved.

                Everything, that is, but your weight.

                You’ve sort of ballooned, fat boy. You’ve thickened quite a bit during our time together. You’ve been letting me feed you, as you sit on that widening, pampered ass of yours. Letting me stuff you silly at dinner. Letting me bring you endless snacks, coaxing goodies and treats down your greedy throat, convincing those plump, submissive lips of yours to part for my desserts. You’ve been letting me fill you; not just filling your heart or your mind or your time. But I’ve been filling up your body as well.

                You’ve changed somewhat, fatty. You’ve let all the weight accumulate all over yourself, transforming from that handsome, fit jock I smiled at as I watched him pack away dinner, my own leftovers, and dessert as well. As I sat back, like a fox watching a plump porker fatten himself, knowing your potential, knowing what I could do to you if I put my mind to it.

                And it’s unmistakable now. You’re not a fit, single jock anymore. You’re my dumb, handsome chubber of a boyfriend. A plump boytoy whose mind is filled with the thought of donuts and cupcakes and cookies and pies. All being brought to him on a plate by his loving, doting significant other. By me.

That relationship weight has accumulated all over. Your stomach, which was once muscular, is now covered in layers of lard, its dough spilling out onto your lap. Your legs covered in fat, fighting to take up space in your chair as you squeeze your enormous ass back so you can play your video games. You’ve gotten uncomfortable, in this new, chubby body of yours. But I do my best to minimize the discomfort, to make sure you don’t have to struggle into those terrible shorts with the button anymore. No, those all burst a while ago. Now, I’ve spoiled you and bought you several pairs of stretchy athletic shorts that leave little room for growth. Packing away your work shirts and button ups and replacing them with stretchy, breathable t-shirts. Shirts that crease under your juicy moobs, that rest above your belly button, exposing your chub. You don’t even notice as I hold a plate of brownies in front of you. As you stuff your face, stupidly, watching your mind-numbing shows and scrolling on your phone. Your double chin highlighting the cuteness of your face, outlining the plumpness where your handsome jawline used to be.

I love showing you off to the world, taking pictures and posting them on social media. “Look how cute my man is, everyone!” I write. While in my mind I think about how much of a pig you are. How you jiggle now, when you step. How your ass cheeks have to shift because your butt has ballooned so big. How your undies ride up between them and you have to tug when you don’t think I’m looking. How we go for walks and you’re always at least a couple steps behind, struggling to keep up with my long, fit legs. I give you lots of belly pats though, bountiful attention, and of course, endless offerings of food! And you  love it…of course you do! Because you’re a fat boy at heart and now, thanks to all my cooking and spoiling and pampering, you’re a fat boy all over. Now, all that chub is mine! That belly is mine to rub! That ass is mine to grab! Those love handles are mine to squeeze! Maybe you’ll go mad from all my poking and prodding, from my teasing. Maybe you’ll lose your mind from all my delicious cooking, the toll it’s taking. But you certainly wont do anything about it. It’s simply too addicting; my cooking, the way it makes you grow…the way I make you feel…

I can't get enough of it.