hesitant indulgence

I truly love unhealthy gains and how it’s gonna affect my body. I love feeling sluggish after stuffing myself with fast food, but I do want it forced upon me sometimes.

squeezing on in

make sure to check out https://onlyfans.com/bxthinsunflower

The words echoed in my mind, deep and familiar, a comforting warmth like a fuzzy blanket on a cold night. Yet they terrified me, knowing what it meant. Terror that turned to a reality of pure, unadulterated arousal and dedication to the cause to just keep eating.

When my clothes first got too tight on me, going up a size, looking in the mirror to see myself rounded out at the edges. I shouldn’t worry about it, I should be good and just keep eating.

I didn’t worry about it, nor did I fret over a few sizes up. But panting after climbing a flight of stairs, the exhaustion in my legs when I walked too far for too long, it burned within me. But I learned to turn that irksome feeling into desire. By not worrying, just eating.

And so I ate. More and more, growing out of my clothes faster than I could keep up with buying them. And since I didn’t want to worry about it, I wore them til they wore out. Belly hanging out the front of shirts, chubby thighs chafing as shorts dug into my hips and upper legs alike. I wore them until they broke. Some buttons popped, some seams tore right open. But I didn’t worry about it. I just kept eating.

No worrying about the labored breath upon heaving myself out of bed in the morning. No worrying about the trash from takeout beginning to cover the floor. Worrying was such a bad feeling, and it felt so good to eat the worries away; to eat myself fatter.

tomorrow you'll be in the hands of another feeder for two days and one night, dear, and you're all giddy about it.

didn't you notice that in the last 24 hours you barely made 10 steps, dear?

you have rolls and creases on your ankles, dear... you're so soft, so squishy, so heavy, so tired...

didn't you realize this is the last year you'll be barely mobile, dear?

you still think you're going to be able to waddle next year... dear, oh dear... i may have some news for you...

do you see those puffy feet of yours? ah, my bad... you can't look at them since a while, can you, dear?

well, my dear, let me tell you: the reason they ache so bad is that they are almost about to give up on supporting your lovely weight; and the only cure is to never use them again, dear.

i will share your gains with whoever i want, then... my dear caged piggy, precious and tender and fattened and fattened and fattened and fucked up...

oh, dear, look at you!

helpless, and defenseless, your eyes devoid from anything that isn't hunger and terror and arousal, powerless against my total control, and so, my dear...

...tell me more about what you're gonna eat tomorrow with this colleague of mine, dear. tell me more about what this feeder wants to stuff you with. tell me more about your gluttony and your greed.

Those pills u gave me... are u sure they were weight loss pills?