Oof My Boxers Are Getting Tight

Oof my boxers are getting tight 🥵

Just makes me want to absolutely glut myself until they dig in so bad I can’t stand the pressure. Maybe until they tear at the seams 👉🏼👈🏼

Won’t I be the cutest growing piggy with my belly hanging out of all my sweaters? My fuzzy gut hanging over my sweatpants?

Fuck just feed me. I can’t focus on anything besides stretching my gut absolutely beyond belief

Happy Tummy Tuesday. So I’m back to gaining in a big way 😂. I’ve even got an only fans that’ll support me through to immobility I hope. https://onlyfans.com/fattyed

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Just keep chugging. Don’t stop. Everyday. Force it it. If you want fat to rule your life. Open it up and pour it in. Let it settle and take over!

All of my thoughts are consumed with gaining.

I’m actively checking calorie counts on everything and getting hard knowing I’m way over my daily for my size.

Just make me fatter. I need to be fucking massive. I want to take up space, rounder and fatter than anyone I know.

I want to be soft and heavy and constantly stuffed to the brim. I want to be fed and jiggled and taunted for how I’ve lost control over my gluttony.

Make me bust out of every last scrap of clothing I own, make me so fat so fast that I waddle heavily and clumsily trying to adjust to how fat you’ve made me.

Feed me. Feed me. Feed me.

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Your greedy feedee's belly keeps growing fatter and rounder every time you see him.. you've made him so addicted to stuffing his doughball gut daily that he can't go to bed without his big swollen belly spilling out of his pjs and looking ready to burst 😩

More funnel feeding on of 🫃🏻

Stuff me. Funnel feed me. Force feed me when I can’t keep up. Tease me about not fitting into anything I own no matter how I try. Fill every space I occupy with snacks. Hand me food when I’m distracted and praise me for finishing it all absentmindedly.

Make days where I must gorge every hour, the entire day filled with my belly packed to bursting. Stretch my gut with carbonated drinks, fill me with heavy cream, force me out in public in clothes two sizes too small.

Order for me at restaurants, whisper quietly that I’d better finish it or you’ll force me at home.

Fill me with beer and slosh my gut uncontrollably. Smoke me out and cover the bed with fattening snacks. Collar me and feed me until it snaps off the fat roll that used to be my neck.

Make me your fat pup, obese hog, house cow, I don’t care. Make me your personal experiment in how fat you can make someone. I want to see the flint in your eye as I beg you to stop feeding me.

Make me groan when you push on my packed belly hanging out of my shirt. Tell me how I’ll never drop the weight, how I’m controlled by my greed. Walk me around town and taunt me to keep up.

Stuff me in your car and stop at every single fast food place we pass. Make me finish before you teach the next one, and order double if I don’t. I want to feel so heavy that I’m stuck in that seat. Feed me until I can’t stretch the seatbelt over my gut even with an extender.

Remind me how I used to be the feeder, and how I couldn’t stop myself from becoming a greedy useless pig.

Make my gut stick out so absurdly far from my body that it almost looks fake. Feed me until I grow fat tits pushing up towards my chin. I want my love handles to be too big to grab in one hand, rendering them useless.

Fatten me up. Make me fatter. So so much fatter.