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Hey guys a short belly vid for you!!!

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(Aaaa hey guys I did a writing thing and it’s not finished and I’m so nervous to show you but if I don’t I’m gonna forget about it in my notes app!! Tell me if you like it :))

He catches your eye across the bar. Well dressed, with eyes like bourbon, honeyed and sharp in a way that makes your cheeks flush. You buy him a drink; his hand doesn’t stray from your hip the rest of the night.

He asks you to dinner the next day. You spend the meal constantly distracted by his hands, the slow, almost hypnotic way he speaks. You make it into his car after dinner before you’re pressed together, all biting kisses and tangled legs where he presses you into the seats. It’s only when he begins to trail kisses down your stomach and lift your skirt over your thighs that you remember yourself and push him back, your legs trembling.

“N-not yet,” you barely stutter out. He gives a little smile and buckles you in with another soft kiss to your forehead.

“Next time,” he promises.

Next time is a coffee date, which ends up turning into a lunch date and a walk in the park followed by ice cream that melts down your arms in the summer heat. He licks your fingers clean, and you could almost swear he moans around them.

Later, in your apartment. “So sweet,” he grins from between your legs. You wonder if the ice cream had anything to do with it.

Another dinner date, then several more. “You must try the tiramisu,” he says. “Oh, the apple cobbler here is to die for,” at another. It becomes a nightly routine, treating you to the city’s richest flavors. Afterward he is ravenous in turn, washing you in kisses and pressing fingers wherever you’re softest.

“Look at you,” he growls against your neck. “Mmh, good fucking girl.”

You begin to have an inkling of what you’re being praised for in relatively short order. But, never one to jump to conclusions, you set to testing your suspicion.

“Hm… You order for me, I don’t know what to pick.” Is that — no, it couldn’t be the slightest hint of pink on the tips of his ears, could it? “I’ve been really hungry today, I’m not sure why. Honestly, everything looks good.” You could swear his voice is a little more hoarse as he tells your orders to the waitress. But you can’t be sure, because by the time the food arrives you really *are* hungry, and he’s monologuing in that endearing way again, and before you know it half the pasta is gone and you’re glad you wore a dress with some stretch to it.

You lean back, taking a deep breath and trying not to show how full you already are. But he catches on, and with a curious glint in his eye, he asks, “Is the food not agreeing with you?”

“Oh, no, it’s delicious!” you say, slightly breathless. “Just, um, a little more filling than I expected.”

He hums noncommittally, but seems to be watching you closely now, as if waiting to see what you’ll do.

It feels electric, doesn’t it? Picking your fork back up and twirling it in your fettuccine. Slowly, deliberately raising it to your mouth, chewing and swallowing.

The corners of his mouth twitch upward. “Good girl,” he murmurs, so quiet you almost miss it.

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Pinned my body on the couch. Bulging from a 3XL tank top.

I'm too greedy to stop asking for more.

@shrubberylogistic

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god I fucking love contrast ❤️

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When you feel how hard he is after sitting on his lap and wiggle around just to make it worse for him while pretending not to notice how much he's struggling to hold it together

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I love being a feeder but I think I should try being a feedee. I love food and I could use a couple pounds here or there. Maybe I’ll gain 10 pounds 😍

3.5 years and Over 100+ pounds

I may have gone a bit overboard but damn am I-uuuuRRRRPPPP…soft 🫢

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✅ Certified fat girl waddle brought to you by overindulgence and gluttony 🐷

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Looks like I cleared out your whole fridge based on this side belly view 😩🩷🩵🩷 *bruurrp*

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My hand traces the smooth curve of her belly before coming to rest just beneath her navel. The softness of it fills my palm, presses against my fingertips, swells with all its plushness under my touch.

Her own hands join mine, and I feel my fingertips sink deeper into her velvety skin.

"Feel how soft I'm getting."

She squeezes, and a handful of newfound fat bulges within my grip.

"God I love it."

"I'm getting so big..."

"You've done so well, I'm so proud of how much you've grown."

"My pants have gotten so tight, I couldn't wait for you to take them off me."

"You don't even know how hot that is..."

She pulls me close until our lips are nearly brushing, until I can see the eagerness in her longing eyes.

"I've grown so big, and round, and soft. All for you. All because of you."

[afuturesupermodel]

jiggle

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Naaaahhh i remember this episode giving me weird sensation as a kid, especially when she broke her belt 🥵🥵 I was always happy as a little girl when they broadcast this episode on TV, at least that's what my elementary school brain called this emotion.

But at the same time there was something inside me that told me to keep this happiness hidden from others and not show it, because deep down my child mind somehow understood that this was something sick, perverse, out of the normal.

https://x.com/DailyFatMemes/status/1779593574562320540

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Again, don't claim any ownership, but thia feedism propaganda is just too hot to not upload.

Your choice, choose obesity

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A few liters of chocolate milk a day keep the skinny away..

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I got HUGE during my latest stuffing 🙈

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Lil bit of a risque vid <3

You can't see anything cuz my belly covers everything ^^

P.S. I'm..... Really full, someone give me rubs <3

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I really wanna bimbofy a fat boy.

I would train him to never say no to food. I would train him to only feel full when he’s completely stuffed to the brim. Even when I’ve stuffed him so full that his distended, groaning belly is causing him to pant and moan, if I ask if my pretty boy wants more food, his answer will be “yes please mistress.”

I would train him to never hold in his burps or precious moans of pleasure, even in public. He would become oblivious to his shirt riding up as he eats. It’s only a matter of time before he bursts a button in public, and even then if I’ve done my job right, it’ll only make him hungrier and hornier. He would always say yes to another drink or another hit, not even realizing how fucked up he’s getting. And afterwards, he’d all too eagerly let me have my way with him.

He would be confused as to why his clothes aren’t fitting the way they used to, and then blindly smile and agree with me when I tell him that he doesn’t need to wear any while he’s in the house anyway.

He wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than food and sex, “anything else is for feedress to worry about. Have another cookie and don’t you worry your pretty little head,” I’d say. All he would care about is eating, getting stuffed, getting horny, and impressing feedress. “And feedress treats you so good, doesn’t she?” I’d coo as he nods rapidly, taking another bite of the slice of pizza I’m dangling in front of his face.

“You’re such a good fat boy for me aren’t you? So perfect. You make feedress so proud, my precious, plump, pretty little himbo.”

(Heavily inspired by @randolphfatter 😘)