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Ever since I can remember, I've loved the idea of forced intox.
I'm just an innocent little girl. I would never even touch alcohol, and certainly not enough to get me drunk. But you know exactly what you want and so you trick me, somehow, into drinking until I'm giggly and pliant and I've become a pleasure-seeking slut.
And you, of course, provide that pleasure, by touching me and fucking me and feeding me more booze until your touch is the only thing keeping me tethered to this Earth and even then, I'm not entirely sure what planet I'm on.
putting a hot babe in front of some spirals while you put on way too loud EDM, fill them with toys that vibrate to the beat, and keep their mixed drink filled, insisting they keep sucking through that silly straw until YOU say stop. which you won't until they're passed out in a puddle of their own piss
Getting blacked out where you shouldn't be is so sexy. Like 1130am on a Wednesday, staggering around a grocery store, barely able to push a shopping cart dies something to me
After a long work day there is nothing better than dressing up my girlfriend in something pretty, and ordering her to stand in front of me and chug a bottle until she can’t take any more.
There is something about watching her face after she finishes drinking, the moment she is still totally sober, and she knows it will just be a few minutes before the alcohol hits her like a truck.
Watching her eyes glaze over, and her body start to sway. She can’t stand up straight anymore, stumbling as everything washes over her.
Before the first bottle can sink in all the way I’ve handed her another, and she puts it to her lips without thinking. It feels so good, like she’s going to float away.
She knows she shouldn’t drink another, she’s already had so much, but she can’t help herself. She keeps drinking. In fact she’s still chugging from the second bottle when the first finally hits her. It feels like someone flipped a switch, and she knows it will be hours, maybe days before she is sober again.
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at first we meet at a bar, very casual, but I soon realize that you have more intentions with me. you keep ordering shots and every time I try to pay, you decline, saying things like don't worry puppy, don't think about it, just take the drinks like a good boy. good boys don't decline drinks, they are eager for then. good boys keep drinking until I tell you to stop. good boys don't stop drinking until they can't stand up anymore because they are so drunk. good boys get wasted on purpose. good boys get wasted in public spaces just to embarrass themselves. good boys stumble home, and if they don't stumble, it means they have to drink more. good boys are never too drunk, they can always drink more. good boys need to lean against walls in dark alleys because they are too drunk to keep walking. good boys are so wasted that they can't get up from the floor anymore. good boys just lay there, enjoying their spinning head from the booze, unable to go home. good boys take videos of themselves drunk, so they can get off on them when they are sober again. good boys fantasize about drinking all the time. good boys never decline drinks. good boys slur their words, and if they don't slur, they have to drink more. good boys edge themselves not on purpose but because they are too drunk to keep the vibrator steady on their clit and it keeps slipping because they are so wet.
tbh there's nothing hotter to me than someone so drunk that they piss themselves. just no longer able to control any part of their bodies and they just let it go without even knowing they're doing it, just no longer able to send signals to stop it, and it takes them by suprise and they can't stop laughing because of how silly it is. have to put them in the bath while pouring booze down their throat because almost as soon as alcahol goes in, piss comes out, and it's easier to keep them in the bath, too drunk to scramble their way upright and pissing all over their legs as they drool, than it is to clean a carpet or future. And you know there's no risk of them escaping and you having to chase them, not with the fact that they can't remember their own name and can't even remember how not to piss themselves.
cute boy being dumped in the bath in the middle of a bender, and a couple of cute girls sit around drinking wine and painting their nails and make sure he's constantly got a bottle of something to occupy him, belly sloshing and pissing nonstop and writhing like a fish to escape the tub and just sliding back down the sides, giggling and slurring and drooling and incoherent.
god god god god god that's so fucking hot just pissing the liquid you drink bexause you physically can't fit more in...god ur so right iys hot as fuck when someone can't hold it back and just pisses down their own legs because there's just no other option and they HAVE TO...
God. That final fantasy is surely a...góod god like imagine he doubles the bath volume with piss alone...those girls and their nail painting just dillute the oxygen content of the room...the window is fogged the fuck up...
Imagine being kept intoxicated for all time... You don't know where you are or who you are, really, and you don't really care, you're just vaguely horny all the time. There are strangers groping you all over and you're too dizzy to protest, so you just let them. There are hands touching your most intimate parts, and you're forced to open your mouth and please others. Your holes are being used and you can't even remember by whom or for how long, you're just constantly weak and drifting in a haze of pleasure...
I think more people should whimper and moan after they stuff themselves too full, so turned on you can see it thru their panties or boxers. I think more people should feel their brains go fuzzy when they walk and feel their fat wobbling and bouncing. I think popping buttons or seams on clothes should get them close to cumming I think that
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Ashley punched in the code to Bree’s apartment, finding a handwritten note on the counter.
Thanks for looking in on Chunk! He’s very food-motivated, so don’t be afraid to use some treats if he’s not cooperating or offer him extra he’s being a good boy. Two containers in the fridge: one for dinner and one for dessert, make sure he finishes his dinner first and uses his bowl! Dessert usually goes in the wall feeder. He loves belly rubs, especially after he eats. -B
Ashley nodded, it seemed easy enough. From the fridge, she pulled out the large opaque Tupperware dinner with a sticky note that said "dinner" in delicate script. She hadn't heard any sounds of stirring, so she figured Chunk must be asleep. Ashley hoped he'd take his meal without too much trouble.
After a soft knock on the bedroom door, she opened it slowly.
"Chuuuunk," she said, her voice like a song. "I've got dinner for y—"
Ashley stopped at the sight of Chunk, who was sprawled supine out on a floor cushion the size of a queen mattress. He had always been big, but he'd grown downright enormous since she'd seen him last. Ashley figured he was nearly 500 pounds, if he wasn't there already. Stretch marks dappled his plump arms, his thighs were two hefty pillows of pudge that forced his legs apart, and even his face looked overinflated. Ashley couldn't tell if he was wearing much of anything, but he was easily kept decent by the bulging rolls of thigh and underbelly fat that were competing for space down there.
The only part of Chunk that didn't look doughy was his belly, which was a firm, round dome of flab that sat heavy against his middle, touching the ground on either side of his hips. The width and intense redness of the stretch marks gave his belly an extremely strained look, even now as it rose and fell with his slumbering breaths.
Ashley found the food bowl on the other side of the room, no more than ten feet from Chunk's bed. She popped the first latch off the Tupperware, immediately rousing Chunk from his sleep. Groaning, his eyes cracked open to see Ashley crouched at his bowl, starting to pour the fattening slurry of meat, cheese, and bread chunks that made up his meal.
"Heyyy Chunk," Ashley said, approaching him slowly. "You've gotten pretty big, huh? Too many treats, I guess."
Chunk was struggling to maneuver himself under his own bulk; stuck on his back like a turtle. His swollen belly sloshed heavily as he jostled himself onto his side. Momentum carried him onto his front, his globular ass wobbling as he reared back onto his knees far enough to unsteadily support his upper body while on all fours. Barely visible between the thick slabs of fat that oozed from under his chin, his collar and name tag jingled daintily as he tried to move.
Panting, his tongue lolling from his mouth, Chunk made his first few inching movements towards his bowl. His belly, visibly hanging low with the combined weight of his fat and the distressing amount of food already in his stomach, dragged across the carpeted floor as he made his way slowly, each weakened arm wobbling at any moment of concentrated weight baring down on it.
He'd barely made it a few feet before faltering and landing heavily on his front, groaning at the pressure of his body landing on his overfilled stomach and looking longingly at the bowl, which taunted him with the promise of more food if he could just make it a few more feet. His round face was growing redder as he intently pushed himself back onto all fours and continued the journey.
Chunk's determination lasted only another couple feet before he was forced to rest again.
Ashley watched on, eventually taking pity on the poor overfed guy. She reached into the wall-mounted drawers labeled "Chunk's treats" and pulled out a few mega-stuffed Oreos. Trying to spur him into completing the trek, she fed the first cookie to him, but it quickly became clear this wasn't going to get her very far — Chunk happily chewed away at the treat he was being hand-fed, then looked eagerly at her for another without moving.
"C'mon Chunk," Ashley said, rolling her eyes a little. "You've got dinner right there."
This time she put the Oreo a few inches from Chunk's mouth, watching as a dribble of drool formed on his lower lip while he forced himself forward just enough to reach the treat.
"That's a good boy, you're almost there," Ashley said, enticing him forward, pulling the cookie back a couple inches every time his mouth was nearly close enough to reach it.
Eight Oreos and lots of praise later, Chunk was in range of his bowl. It was no wonder to Ashley how Chunk had gotten so fat if it took that many treats to even get him towards his dinner, but she felt a sense of caring satisfaction seeing him collapse down onto his elbows, put his face to the large dish and start eating vigorously. Ashley watched him eat, admiring how his belly pooled on the ground and how the fat seemed to ooze around to folds on his sides and back, no matter what position he drifted into.
When his eating started to slow, she'd run a hand down his wide back or tousle his hair to goad him into completing his task. Ashley understood completely how Bree managed to spoil him so much; he made such happy, cute noises as he ate. As his belly filled, he tipped further and further into his bowl face-first, going so far as to lick clean the bottom when the chewable portions had been gobbled up.
By the end of the meal, Chunk was visibly more bloated than he'd started. He rolled with a thud onto his back, whimpering and pawing at his distended belly. He didn't look to be in any state to move much from that spot, but fortunately the wall-mounted feeder was located right beside his food bowl.
Ashley left Chunk long enough to retrieve the second container from the fridge, feeling this one was much more liquid by how it sloshed as she carried it. The wall-mounted feeder had a large hopper where she could pour in Chunk's dessert, then there was a knob on the spout that controlled the flow down a tube that Chunk already had scooted close enough to pop into his mouth.
"You know what's coming, don't you Chunk?" Ashley said affectionately, rubbing a couple lines across his belly beneath his chest. Chunk lazed unmoving as Ashley poured what seemed to be a large amount of milkshake, made of melted ice cream with various chunks of cookies and brownies interspersed within it. She opened the nozzle and watched as Chunk greedily started gulping and chewing down the fattening contents as quickly as it met his mouth.
This part of the meal, Chunk made quick work of. Even his mouth barely had to move, though his belly was growing audibly more strained as he gulped and groaned through each mouthful. Chunk's belly looked painfully swollen by the time his dessert was finished, but he lapped up the last of his shake before letting the tube free from his mouth.
"Such a good boy, you really ate it all, didn't you?" Ashley said, patting the taut dome of his belly, which had rounded out with intense fullness near the peak and splayed into soft fat at the edges. Chunk's grin widened as he planted one foot on the floor and used that point of stability to start rocking himself from side to side, his enormous belly swaying.
"Mmmm someone thinks they've earned belly rubs, does he?" Ashley teased, taking both hands and starting to knead the firm dough of Chunk's middle, watching him groan and grunt and grin as his overfed body was rewarded for obediently gorging itself even further.
"Such a good guy! You're spoiled, Chunk, but I don't think you mind," Ashley said, giving some attention to his moobs and bellybutton, sliding her fingers along the stretch marks that looked freshest among the forest of stripes. Chunk panted appreciatively, then descended into a sort of whimper, his eyes shifting over towards the treat drawers.
Ashley smirked, shaking her head. "Chunnnkkk," she said. "You're getting so big! If Bree keeps overfeeding you like this, you're just going to get bigger and bigger…"
She could tell by the darkening shade of red on Chunk's cheeks that he knew, accepted, and wanted whatever came with being a spoiled, overfed pet. Sighing, Ashley got up and grabbed a package of brownie bites, feeding them to him one by one, watching his happy, food-filled cheeks wobble as he chewed away, her hands roughing up his belly and easing out a couple of deep burps.
Chunk started getting sleepy pretty quickly after that, and he didn't seem to be in any state to make it back to his bed, no matter how many treats Ashley could offer him. She rubbed his belly until he fell asleep, quietly making her way out from his room and pulling out her phone to text Bree as she locked up.
Ashley: oh my god Bree
Ashley: Chunk is so. freaking. huge.
Bree🐝: isn't he just the cutest 🥺
Bree🐝: I can't wait to feed him extra when I get back tomorrow
Bree🐝: thank you for looking in on him!! he gets so hungry when I'm away
Ashley: literally anytime, he's such a cutie!
Ashley: sign me up to pet-sit whenever you're out of town, I'm kind of obsessed
A growing part of Ashley couldn't wait to visit Chunk again, curiosity building within her about if he might be even bigger when she saw him next.
call me and watch me swig from the bottle tell me to keep going keep going keep going, til I don't feel like this anymore, i don't feel anything but warm and sweeet andall i can hear is yr voice and all I can see is the blur of the room spinning around me as I try and tell you im fine still, good but fine i could do more, im not tappin' yet im not that easy, so you tell me to and i keep going until my brains too fogged out to compose a lie or any thought at all, til my minds blank with the warmth nd the buzz and the burn in my gut and I'm slurring at youthat im drunk , i've had too much, oohh im fuckjed ohs hit , ohh i should probably stop hey ivehad a lot now...
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After the first drink at the bar my head starts spinning, which is no surprise because what I planned as some "light pregaming" ended up in me having half a bottle of vodka in two hours.
I'm trying not to let the others notice but I'm not very secretive, the way I can't stop smiling and giggling. We do shots and I have two because why not? My eyes start to unfocus slightly and I can't really follow the conversation anymore, but that's okay, I'll just sit here quietly enjoying the booze in my system. Sometimes someone asks me a question, and I do my best to answer, but because I'm too drunk to follow the conversation, all that comes out is something like "uhh.. yesss! exact-llly that!" with some very enthusiastic nodding that makes my head spin even more, so much that I have to grab the person next to me to not fully loose control of my body.
My friends don't seem to mind my drunkenness, and after a while I have to pee really bad, but every time I try to indicate that I want to get up, they make me sit back down, saying I had too much booze to walk around and that I should wait until everyone is leaving so they can help me. The pressure on my bladder starts getting more and more, I'm trying to get up but can't even make a step without stumbling and flop back onto my chair, nearly missing it and leaning to the side in an attempt to regain my posture. My bladder is so full that every movement is painful, but I can't help the way my body moves and sways from side to side even when I'm sitting, and my friends keep getting new shots that I have to drink. Sobering up is impossible. I press a hand to my crotch, trying everything now to stop pissing myself where I'm sitting, and that's when one of my friends finally sees (or pretends to see now for the first time) that I'm about to piss myself in public.
They go to the toilet with me, and try to hold me, but my stumbling is so bad and I keep falling that I have to crawl up the stairs to the toilet, with everyone in the bar to see the wet piss stain in my pants and my drunken swaying and slurring. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, and because my tongue is heavy in my mouth and my brain makes the world swim past me double, I have lost every ounce of control I ever had.
i wanna get soooo drunk with someone we cant stand without slumping on each other or keep our nipples in our tops, tits hanging out of bikinis, slurring and giggling and staggering, falling onto the beach and barely realizing we’re on the ground halfway theu getting up
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