Oh God.

Oh god.

There’s no stopping the feeder to feedee pipeline. I just got down a container of heavy cream and it tasted like ambrosia.

Gods I’m gonna be so fucking fat in no time

The idea of someone taking the whole day to make me food and keep me eating until I am in a food stupor is such a hot concept to me 🥵

Half an apple pie

Heavy cream and butter mash potatoes

Salmon and brussel sprouts

Half a tub of vanilla ice cream

A pint of Ben and Jerry’s

Six sparkling waters

And I’m so fucking round that I’m stuck on my back groaning and rubbing my gut. Fuck how long until I really blow up?

Had a dream last night where I finally gave it and decided to live with a feeder. As I struggled to waddle up the stairs to their place, I knew that I would never leave. All I could think about is how the moment I walked through those doors I was going to be fed and fattened until I was too fat to leave their bed and then fattened even more. That the weight I was waddling in there was the thinnest I would ever be and that they would have full control and honestly it was the most turned on I had been in a while.

I want nothing more than to waddle into a feeder's home and let them fatten me as much as they please. I want to be force-fed and fully controlled. When I eat, how much I eat, how fat I get completely up to them. I want to be owned. Their property to feed, fatten, and fuck. Forced to stay naked so they can see every jiggly pound and every new stretch mark they put on my flabby swelling body.

I want to be weight, measured, teased. I want pictures taken of me at every stage. I want to be forced to struggle to get up and waddle to the mirror to see and feel what they are doing to me. I want to stand there, wheezing and struggling as they jiggle me and taunt me for getting so fat then ordered to open up as they shove extra fattening donuts in my mouth and tease me even more. I want to be force fed right there, forced to stare at myself as I open my mouth for more like a good little hog. I want to be stuffed to my limits, measured, then forced to struggle back to bed. Then when I'm laying there, out of breath and moaning from how full I am, I want to be ordered to open for more. If I can think about anything but how painfully stuffed I am, I'm not full enough. Only when I'm laying there mindless and moaning do they stop and let me digest while they make more food. I want to be a prized hog.

This cake shake has me so round 🥵🥵🥵 I was throbbing and leaking the entire time I was mixing it up and now trying not to touch my fat little cock is driving me insane. Well, not as much as this painfully round belly

Before and after a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts and milk. This Pig's getting fat 🐷

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