A Prettier World

Your breasts are just an extension of your back fat.

Another roll on your massive flabby body.

Nothing special.

Have you no manners??? That’s not how you’re supposed to speak to the elderly!!!! Still love you tho, kisses from Mammaw 💋💋💋

I have accepted the fact that I have surrendered control and that, from here, I'm only getting bigger, rounder, softer and so on. However, there's still another driver in the car with her hand on the breaks: you.

The moment I dread the most is when you too will lose control of my weight. What happens when you're no longer able to slow me down? Just imagine trying to plateau my weight and failing completely. You try to get me to exercise a little bit, to eat merely what's necessary to keep me as fat as I am now.

But you don't stop me when I inevitably feel like stuffing myself like the grotesque hog I have become. In fact, you're excited to see just how far we can take this, just how much I will balloon, just how generous and succulent this serving of porkbelly can get. You want me to become a little too big, a little too round and a little too soft for my own good. I know when I reach that point, it will unlock something in you, something that will terrify me, and the innocent, trustworthy girl whom I have given care of the emergency breaks will instead smile devilishly at me as I become powerless to slow it down at 180km/h.

-Vanilla frosting guy

PS: I think I messed up converting from kilos to lbs in a previous ask. I am only 330lbs, which means no I'm not thrice your size (though hopefully one day I can be like four or five times your size)

Ah losing control, such a beautiful concept, you've lost the reins and there are nowhere to be found, no matter how much you try to push yourself out of that loop with sheer will power, there's no exit out if this cycle, your determination is dwarfed by your gluttony. By this point you're no longer in control, you're merely a passanger of your own gluttony, so you better relax and enjoy the ride to a very fattening destiny.

Praise only makes me want to out do myself, receiving praise while also seeing those sweet results would make me go feral and I could get carried away with the doting, spoiling and feeding.

Seeing you struggling to button your jeans while telling me how good I'm being, gosh that would make me want to feed you just enough for those jeans to stop buttoning. I would only desire to feed you just enough so that even while lying on your back and sucking in your belly, those jeans won't come close to buttoning. And maybe feed you enough so that those jeans won't make it past your hips eventually, big boy~

I'm a feeder and one that truly enjoys indulging in this kink and pushing limits, I basically come with a warning that says "Careful! Very fattening when given approval" (consent before anything). So anyone who approaches me already knows what they're getting into and they know that their waistlines aren't gonna get smaller.

You consider me a danger to your whole closet and appetite with my praise kink, but no one is forcing you to praise me, you just decided to shower me in praise and specifically praise me in a feedism context. To me it sounds like you just wish to shower someone in sweet words while being fattened up and who am I to stop you, right? I love attention, compliments and praise, you would love a feeder that could make you gain "some" extra pounds, so I feel like we would only be in a beautiful and almost unstoppable cycle full of praise, doting and a weight difference that would keep getting bigger.

You're so big now, so gorgeously fat, that there truly is no other explanation for just how you got this big this fast. I bet they can all tell just how much you love it when your belly is so painfully full, when you pop buttons, making a massive pig of yourself.

Every time you move, there is more heaviness to you, a soft sway that tells the story of every calorie we’ve stuffed into your tummy. I love watching the way your skin stretches tight, gleaming and smooth, struggling to contain the sheer size of your growth.

300lbs is undeniably fat - you're not chubby or thick or husky. You're fat. You either like it, or are ambivalent enough it doesn't scare you the way it would other people. You can still participate in society, mostly, but the world doesn't have to stop to accommodate you.

+400lbs is definitely eyebrow raising for society. It's being unable to clothes shop at even Walmart. Its forcing you to slow down, forcing you out of normal society because you simply do not fit. It's modifying your habits, changing to more sedentary hobbies. It's having to take up 2 seats on a packed flight, impacting a strangers life when they find that plane full. But instead of letting all that mortification spark change, no, something pleasurable coils in your belly and whispers "its not that bad yet"

500lbs?

Thats a level of obesity you're not ready for. Trust me, and I barely dipped my toe in that class of obesity.

Simple things that you've taken for granted, things that have remained as your athleticism dwindled, now suddenly seem like Olympian feats. Waddling through a store? Might as well call the ambulance to wait for your inevitable collapse. An incline? No, silly, might as well call it Everest. Standing at the stove to cook? Bold to not have a chair nearby. Clothes for fat people? Ha, you've sized out of specialty stores. Now you need custom clothes. Getting off the couch? Now you gotta plan how many times you can get up and so you make those one or two attempts count by stacking snacks around you.

Once you hit 500lbs, and you ignore that tiny quiet voice saying, "woah, hey, lets slow down" and instead listen to that roaring hunger in your belly...