bellies-and-binds

[bellies-and-binds]

Praising you for every hit so you smoke yourself braindead.

“There’s my good girl, keep going.”

“You’re too high? No baby, you’re just overheating. Let’s take these clothes off.”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re so beautiful like this.”

“You’re dizzy? Lay down, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

“Don’t worry about what my hands are doing. You want a body high don’t you?”

“‘Atta girl, hit it again.”

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Breed me? 🥺

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ah ah—we agreed. you said tonight you’d eat until I said you were done. and I say you’re not done yet.

”I can’t eat anymore. I’m sooo full.”

well babe, I think you can. I think you want to. you like how it aches, how your clothes have gotten tight, how you’re so full you can barely move. and now I’ve got you pinned down, and we can’t let these donuts go to waste, can we?

it’s so cute, watching you squirm. you keep whining about how stuffed you are, but when I say open your mouth, you do. even if you’re moaning around every bite. the seams of your clothes can barely hold you in.

ooh you did so good for me. let’s take care of that poor belly, hmm? 

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Restraints

Tie me up, good and proper. Grab my face and tell me what you're going to do to my body. How you'll ruin my figure, force me to swell and fatten. My body isn't mine anymore. It belongs to you, my feeder. Yours to grow, mold into a gluttonous statement of hedonism. I won't say no, I can't say no. Take any choice from me, be force of necessary.

I don't have to tell you twice, when you're forcing me to gorge on greasy, fattening foods, thick calories laden shakes even pure melted butter. Anything to make my waistline expand, my body soften and my gluttony take over. I'm yours and yours alone, and you know I won't, nor can't stop you.

Doesn't matter how unhealthy I get. Just as long as I get fatter, lazier, hornier and hungrier. A testament to your control, my obedience. I'm yours dear feeder. And I'm so hungry

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easy. lmao

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everyone's favorite test subject <3

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just got a new ringlight to film new content/customs for you guys 🥰 im so excited!

📥 dm me if u are interested in customs or already available vids 🍕

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so im pretty sure my belly has doubled in size since this time last year… what a christmas miracle (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ 🎄✨🫶🏻🥰💚

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party girl

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The pain from eating too much is addicting

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I love when we don’t acknowledge it. I make a pan of lasagna and we sit at the table with the nice tablecloth and candles lit and you chatter about your day. I serve you another slice. We talk about what we should do this weekend. I serve you another slice. Your cheeks look rosy in the candlelight and the wine is making me warm and affectionate. I serve you another slice. You’re complaining about the jerk at work but you’re also looking a little full. We’ve finished the lasagna and I bring out the cheesecake. We don’t acknowledge it but you look up at me with heavy, dark eyes as I put some down in front of you. I do most of the talking while we eat dessert. You’re concentrating now on finishing everything I give you, keeping up the charade that you’re not stuffed to the gills with most of the meal I’ve made for the two of us. I know you’re at your limit but I play oblivious and ask if you want more. My resolve almost breaks as I hear the faintest little whimper, but I keep playing the game, not letting you know yet how good you look, how full. I clear our dishes and I let you wait, heavy, bloated with food, probably unable to get up and help though we haven’t acknowledged that yet either. In a minute I’ll take mercy on you, maybe ask you innocently: is everything alright? You’ll deny it at first, because that’s fun for us; you know that I know that you’re packed tight and turned on about it, but you don’t want to admit it to me yet. And you’ll finally put a hand on your belly and look up at me pleadingly.

“I’m so full”

“Oh?”

“I ate too much”

“Aw, my poor baby”

“My tummy hurts”

And the dam breaks and I’m all over you. We held out long enough, and your sore tummy needs my attention. I did this to you, after all. We both know that you’ll eat anything I put in front of you, you just can’t help it, can you? It’s fun to pretend that I don’t notice how much you’re eating but the truth is, I watched you like a hawk. I saw the way you shifted uncomfortably in your chair when I got you thirds, I noticed the way your shirt clung to your belly after dessert, how your breathing got heavier and heavier as you got fuller and more turned on. You did so well for me, baby. Now let me take care of that full tummy of yours.

[bellies-and-binds]

feedist kinktober 26 : Olympian

goat faun and ram centaur AU

[bellies-and-binds]

Feeder tip #1: Grazing

If you want your feedee to truly blow up and that wonderful accidental level of blow up you need to encourage grazing. Casual grazing is the best. If you can populate their environment with snacks like chips, crackers, cookies, fruit snacks or whatever they love that you could casually snack on is central. The less filling and more addictive with lots of calories taken in with the least effort. Set out bowls of treats or put the actual bags of treats out. Normalize them eating between meals. Respond to their requests quickly and the least intrusive to their activities. Make it like grabbing them a water or drink while thirsty. Embrace their whims and grab them whatever they want so those easy to absorb treats add up. Combine this with buying bulk and rotate with sales through their desires. Normalize eating entire containers once or twice a week by this process. Reward and praise them and encourage them to leave you trophies of what they ate. Shape this to be sweet or dark based on their fantasies but remember encourage mindless self-indulgent behavior around this. It can be a quiet kink moment too to leave them a bag or box of treats. You can make it romantic too and loving by making sure they have treat options at all times. Remember though keep it super easy for them and get them used to not even having to get up for it even. Let them just relax their way into total obesity and laziness. You can use it for sweet praise about what a good [pet name] been and get them proud. If your dynamic is teasing you can taunt them for killing another bag of chips this week. It can be saved up for humiliation if your dynamic is evil like that. Nothing like springing on them you’ve been tallying the calories or bags they’ve consumed right as they’re on the edge of orgasm or to excite them while in an active stuffing session (you already ate a party sized Oreos you can do this!) Grazing is so adaptable and can be whatever you need it to be but it’s central to actual weight gain. So be kind to your feedee and free range then with treats.

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quick updateeee im doughy n empty </3

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i bring a sort of rotisserie chicken vibe to sleeping that my stuffed tummy doesnt really like

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winner x loser

650 words · 3 min read · emptyheadedhousecow.tumblr.com · March 2024

It's not enough just to win. It's not enough to only have broken you.

We both knew that I thrived on the struggle. That I loved when you resisted, but loved it even more when tomorrow you'd resist a little less. As day by day I'd snake past your defenses, overwhelm your dignity, make you give in. Little by little, bit by bit; just a tiny bit more compliant today than you were yesterday.

We both wanted it. You wanted your barriers broken and you knew you couldn't do it yourself; you wanted to renounce everything that was holding you back, but you didn't have the strength to turn away. I wanted nothing more than to corrupt you, isolate you, dedicate you to me and only me. From when we first locked eyes there was a tense balance between us and we both knew all we wanted was for the scales to tip, slowly, irreversibly, to me.

But you were worried. We both love the struggle but your real goal was what comes afterwards. You wanted to be switched off, to be putty in my hands, to follow my instruction without a thought from your own head.

You worried that I didn't want the same. You worried that I was in it only for the battle, only for the agonising push-and-pull of power, only for the slow accumulation of subservience. You worried that I only wanted the glory of winning, of proving myself superior to you. You worried that once I'd won and gotten my prize I'd have nothing to play for. You worried that I'd leave and find a new champion to play with, leaving you utterly dependent on me with only my memory to slake your unquenchable thirst; a breath held forever.

Honey, no. Hush those silly thoughts. Seeing as I'll be doing all the thinking for both of us one day, we may as well start now.

It's not enough for me to win, darling. In some ways I already have, from the moment you first resigned yourself to eventually being mine. Yes, I love the struggle, and I'll savour it as long as I can make it last — but even though the flesh of this fruit is perfectly tasty it's the sweet ichor inside that drives me wild.

I don't need to win. I will, of course; I am superior to you, in every way, but I don't need to prove it. No, I need to dominate you. I need to win day, after day, after day. I need to win when you can no longer muster any resistance at all. I need to win when you've given up all thoughts of running. I need to look into your eyes and watch the memory of life before me fade. I need to own you, inside and out, so thoroughly that you forget who you were.

When one day you realise that you got what you wanted, and you have nothing left to call your own, and you belong to me in every sense of the word, but I'm still taking more —

— when you're already addicted to me, but I keep upping your dose —

— when there's nothing left to think but thoughts I fed you, but I still fill your head with lies —

— when your world extends no further than my bedroom door, but I still keep you bound —

— when you put up one last struggle to try to tell me this isn't what you wanted, and for the first time you really earnestly try, and worry for wholly different reasons — that's the battle I need to win.

And I will.

And you'll be nothing.

And that will be my prize.

Eat up, darling, and struggle while you can.