Here Be Heft

(sry for the nip censor, tumblr wouldn't let me post it otherwise)

Guess who’s back? 😈

You didn't just stumble upon these desires; you summoned them, called them into existence with every climax, every click, every reblog, every secret wish whispered into the digital ether.

You, my dear, have been casting a spell without even knowing it. Each image of a swollen belly you admired, every story of gluttonous indulgence you devoured, wasn't just for your pleasure. They were your incantations, your little magic spells to draw me to you 🌀

You've crafted a narrative with your desires, painting pictures with your binges, unknowingly igniting a beacon for one who would see the beauty in your growth, the artistry in your appetite.

And here I am, drawn to you like a moth to the flame of your manifest destiny.

Your Tumblr, your digital confessional, was the altar where you laid bare your deepest cravings, and in doing so, you summoned me, your devoted feeder.

Now, together, we'll turn those digital fantasies into a very real, very delicious reality. Your growth, your pleasure, our shared journey - it was always meant to be.

Let's make every dream, every post, come to life in the most sumptuous way possible.

Give me feedees who don’t want to be helpless and immobile. Feedees who love their bodies but also love their hobbies. Feedees with interests apart from becoming a sentient couch for someone else to look after. Feedees who cosplay or garden or want to eat a variety of things. Feedees begging their feeders to learn how to make authentic chicken vindaloo, Jamaican style curried goat, maduros and ropa vieja, real pirogi, or llengas tacos. Feedees who work all day and come home and wolf down a table full of food because being productive enhances their appetite like no other. Feedees who absolutely want homemade apple butter and biscuits over egg mcmuffins. Feedees dragging their feeders out to the local U-Pick and eagerly filling their buckets with fresh summer berries and going “youre going to make pie AND cobbler right? and jam? i need that clove and raspberry jam. please.” 

And give me feeders who can’t just cook, they can throw down. Feeders who can make - and cure - their own sausages and bacon. Feeders who bake bread without recipes because the way their feedee eats it’s honestly easier to just bake it than keep going to the store every single day. Feedees who take pride in the variety and quality of what they put into their feedee. Feeders getting mad their feedee bought canned whipped cream because fresh is so much better and of course, there’s whipping cream already in the fridge just get the hand mixer out it takes like 20 seconds what are you doing with the Reddi-Whip. Feeders who make artisan ice cream just for their feedees. Feeders grinning at the U-Pick because they’re going to make pie, cobbler, jam, and summer berry wine for when their feedee wants something special after dinner. Feeders who have enough food skill to run a homestead if they really wanted to.

Even if you wanted to get away from this fetish, even if you deleted Tumblr, determined to leave it all behind once again, somehow you always find your way back here.

You’re like a feather caught in the breeze—only the wind is your own gluttony and desire.

After that moment of fleeting and pathetic post-nut clarity, you try to escape, recognizing the power my words hold over you.

But we both know it’s only a matter of time, don’t we?

No matter how long you attempt to stay away, you’ll eventually return, slipping under a new alias each time. It’s really adorable. There’s simply nothing else quite like it, is there?

Remember this piggy, even if you wanted to exit this trance-the short lived triumph of losing all that weight will always be eclipsed by the everlasting pleasure you feel when you surrender to your true desires.

There’s no escaping.

Thought I’d let you know, just incase you get any funny ideas 😘

”Step up on the scale baby,” Rachel teased as her hands squeezed his soft love handles. “Just look at you!” she laughed as they made eye contact in the bathroom mirror while she playfully jiggles his wide hips. “You’re so fucking fat!” He looked up at the reflection staring back at him. It was shocking. As the weight continued to pile on it was getting harder to process that it was actually himself he was looking at. He was the incredibly fat man in the mirror.

His tight jawline had grown soft and round. Not a significant change, but the weight gave him a set of chubby cheeks with a soft double chin that gave him the look of someone who had gained a bit of weight. As his eyes continued to scan lower, it was quickly evident that he had gained more than a bit. His upper arms, once toned and chiseled, were now thick, undefined and flabby. They rested out to his sides due to the sheer size and heft of his moobs. They were massive; what Rachel called his heavy tits. They had grown so big and sensitive as the pace of his weight gain increased. Over the last few months they exploded in size and weight, spilling to the sides, hanging lower with nipples nearly double in size and so sensitive.

He couldn’t see her standing behind him, but as he studied his tits her small hands appeared, cupping each and lifting playfully. Rachel loved how feminine he was becoming. “Look at these titties. What happened to my husband? Looking more like a fat girl every day piggy.” He melted with her touch as she slowly teased his swollen nipples. As his tits jiggled, he fought his arousal knowing he had to earn her full attention. His eyes scanned lower to his belly, the most prominent part of what was now his doughy frame. What started as a pot belly three years ago had ballooned into a massive collection of fat. A celebration of greed and excess. A giant ball of pure fat that his body had stored after consuming thousands and thousands of extra calories. His upper belly sat high and tight, the perfect shelf for his growing tits. But the lower you go, the softer and heavier it gets. Gravity pulling it lower with every additional 30 lbs. It naturally splits at the belly button with a lower apron that by itself was massive, completely covering his cock even when standing, hanging nearly halfway to my knees. Not that you would be able to see it anyway. The fat pad Rachel helped him grow had puffed and plumped into a roll unto itself, swallowing his manhood. With her small hands, Rachel can no longer grab all of his lower roll to lift it up which made him look and feel so incredibly fat when she tried.

“What are you thinking fatty?”, Rachel laughed as she stood next to him now, her hands rubbing and kneading the folds of fat at his sides. “Are you ready for a treat?”, she asks as she sets a tray of double chocolate brownies on the bathroom counter. “Of course you’re ready. You are always ready to eat and stuff yourself, aren’t you fatty? Oh, and I know you can’t see it. You blew past my expectations again. You’re 426 lbs baby. Just so F-A-T. Eat up baby. I don’t want you wasting away,” she giggled as she slapped his big belly causing everything to wobble and shake. “Are you ready for your snack?” she smiled as she stepped into her new strap-on, slowly sliding lotion over the large dildo as she locked eyes with him.