belliesgettingbigger

[belliesgettingbigger]

@jigglypuff323 I hope you don't regret your decision. Mrs. Woodhouse is not a gentle nurse

[belliesgettingbigger]

Wow! This is incredible! You wrote Mrs. Woodhouse exactly as I imagined her 💕

A Victorian era nurse that runs a rehabilitation clinic for misbehaving young women. She delights in breaking their wills, tying them to their beds and stuffing them with bread, butter, and cream round the clock. Because your daughter can't get into trouble if she can't even stand.

[belliesgettingbigger]

A Victorian era nurse that runs a rehabilitation clinic for misbehaving young women. She delights in breaking their wills, tying them to their beds and stuffing them with bread, butter, and cream round the clock. Because your daughter can't get into trouble if she can't even stand.

[belliesgettingbigger]

The bigger Henry gets, the harder it is to move around (Don't worry, he'll have plenty of time to get his breath back while Sam fills up a few plates for him)

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i’ve been into this stuff for a while but only now have i started to actually gain large amounts of weight. how can i get more comfortable with my bigger body?

Well I always tell people that everything comes with time and while that is true it can still be hard to adapt for some. So start I would get some larger sized clothes so you’re much more comfortable when going out, and I would look into getting some personal care items. Like body creams and some good body wash to keep your skin soft for example..

You could practice looking at yourself more thoroughly in the mirror, by that I mean like study your new stretch marks and tell yourself this is you and this is a good thing. That would help too!

Thanks for the ask!! 😊

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Sam is ready with the funnel and Henry is wondering just how much that big belly of his can really hold.

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More of Sam and lots more of Henry

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A little bear belly appreciation. Some OCs, Sam (on the left) and Henry (on the right). Sam can only get it up for really big guys, so Henry is dipping his toes into feedism for the first time

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The cover for my original fat fairy tale about a girl trying to figure out if her admirers like her or just her body

I'll post the whole thing later, but for now you can buy it here

[belliesgettingbigger]

Sharing is Caring (and The Art of Being Fed While High)

CW///: Drug use (marywana), Intox feedism

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You'd made fun of your roomie occasionally for their inability to mind their weight, their frequent smoking sessions probably doing nothing to help that fact. One day, however, they decided to start sharing their stash of magnificent bud with you, and as if fate itself had decided to make you a fool, you steadily began to put on weight. You had eaten your words, along with many other things. You didn't know just what it was about it, but this strain in particular made you so, so hungry.

And here you were, after a hard day's work, absolutely zooted and splayed across the couch. You'd perhaps done a little too much, and now you were absolutely starving. Your head was propped up in your roommate's lap, their comfy, chubby thighs feeling like soft pillows beneath you. They'd come prepared, and were gladly sharing food they'd ordered in advance, not even making you move. It was cozy.

"Open." They commanded. Obediently, you opened wide, and they slipped a chicken nugget in your mouth. You chewed and swallowed. You'd been doing this for the past 40 minutes, just enjoying the sensations, the taste of different foods, and the feeling of satisfying your hunger. You were still nowhere near full. You didn't want to be.

"One more," They said, pressing it to your lips. You ate from their occupied hand, while their free one ruffled your hair affectionately.

"Good job," They cooed. "You've been eating so well for me." The praise, combined with the sensation of the head rubs, shot warm waves of euphoria through your body. Their words made you feel as if you'd accomplished something. It made the eating feel so right.

Your attention then shifted to your stomach, and catching a glimpse, you were reminded of the toll of these sessions. There was no way to sugarcoat it: you had ballooned the past few months. Your formerly small frame, which had fit into this t-shirt not too long ago, was now packed into it rather noticably. A new squishy duo of breasts and belly strained the fabric, it barely covering your new love handles. Your pants fared no better, with widening hips and a ripening behind struggling to fit inside your jeans most days. You no longer needed a belt, and around the house you resorted to sweatpants that stretched to accommodate you.

It all made you feel a mix of emotions. One one hand, it slightly embarrassed you to give up the body you'd built your self image on. On the other hand, this new frontier of growth felt slightly, well, liberating. It was exciting, it made you feel warm inside, a little proud even. Words failed to express it.

Jokingly, you protested. "You're making me fat." You chided your roommate. They smiled softly. "I know, I can't help it," They replied. "It looks too good on you." They picked up a large bottle of soda, and guided it to your dry mouth. Opening eagerly, they put the nozzle in your mouth, and tilted the bottle upward. The brown, sweet, sticky ichor trickled into your mouth. "You used to make fun of me for being bigger," They thought aloud. "I thought maybe I should show you how great it is to be this big." You swallowed mouthful after mouthful, feeling your stomach grow, bulging and bloating with each gulp. Finishing the bottle, you let out a loud belch, and panted.

"Good job." Your roommate doled out praise, as they lifted your shirt to rub your stomach. The blissful feeling of a full tummy, combined with the stimulating sensation of high belly rubs melted your brain. Through the haze, you heard your roomie say "We're putting at least another 100 pounds on you." You rolled your head into their own fluffy midsection, nuzzling against the soft fat. You couldn't wait to see how much you'd grow.

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I just think it’s such an act of love to want to feed someone up. Like I LOVE you. This kink is not just a kink, I want you to be happy and taken care of and full of love and acceptance for yourself. It’s not just a sexual thing, it’s a sensual and romantic thing. And it will never EVER be above or more important than the person I love and how they feel. Like yeah it’s a kink but for me personally it really truly does stem from this place of adoration and romanticism.

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I wanna kiss the soft swell of your lower belly, the part that pushes slightly over the band of your boxers. I wanna feel you shiver under me, watch as you cover your face or look away while you blush. And when you do, I’ll turn your face gently back to me and stare you down while I kiss you more, tummy and soft sides and chest, praising anything you may be insecure about. I won’t stop until you know how beautiful you are. I’ll nip and kiss and praise and praise. I’ll do it every time you eat, especially if it’s a big meal, feeling the warmth from you and the slight firmness of your full belly, hearing you let out soft moans and burps. I wanna touch you, wanna feel you. You drive me crazy.