#growing feedee

For now, I savor how it feels for my tits to jiggle as I wank one out, my other hand caressing my growing belly. Soft and supple now, but soon it will be stuffed to capacity. I am going to make it so big and round for you. I want to pile so much fat onto it. I want to be stuffed, day in and day out. Purposefully fattened and encouraged to grow. I want you to be responsible for my inevitable unrecognizability, even (eventually) to those closest to me.

It’s insane to me that I have gotten this big

But it’s all felt so good. So fulfilling. So gluttonous and indulgent.

I have eaten myself so round and plump. Bigger than I’ve ever been. No scale in the new house so I haven’t even checked in months. But I’ve been eating like never before, and I can feel how much fatter I am

When I slap my empty belly now, I watch ripples of soft, luscious fat quake across me

My hips are fat. My love handles are fat. My arms are chubby, even

I cannot keep my hands off of my growing body

Even now, as I write this, I notice my shirt has ridden up on my love handles. I lift it up so my belly peeks out just slightly and instantly I’m turned on

I remember the amalgam of stuffings that have led to this greedy pig emerging, and I tingle electrically. My belly gurgles in anticipation and arousal. I have eaten myself into obesity, and I don’t want to stop.

I love imagining all the fat on my body squishing into my chest, making me pant helplessly, slowly finding it harder and harder to breathe, endlessly struggling to get air and gasping for breath, feeling my chest ache from all my fat and my heart racing just to keep my helpless, fat-enveloped body alive.