#If you get overweight

[spongebob-connoisseur]

People like to characterize human Spongebob as some waifish barely 20 years old looking twink but honestly I think he'd be more like Pat from the UK version of Ghosts.

The shorts, the passion for what he does and his craft, the dorky glasses, the positive and all forgiving attitude, the knee high socks, the love of nature and the outdoors, the tie, the love for his friends and family, the shoes, the love of pranks, the OVERALL WHOLESOMENESS AND GOOD NATURE

[bigcutiebonnie]

I LOVE being tied up & force fed!🥵 💖C4S💖 🔥OF🔥

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Indulgence

At first it was just a fun occasional binge. 

Eat until you’re so full you can hardly move, then lug your fat, packed gut over to your bed or simply lean back in your favorite chair and pleasure yourself. Have a few mind shattering orgasms. Cum your brains out. Your huge, soft thighs and that full tank of food hanging off your midsection did make it hard to reach sometimes, but that’s no worry, you just needed the right angle. 

Then it started happening every day. Weeks of the same routine. Push as much food as possible past your lips. Do it until you’re so aroused you can’t take it anymore. Rock your overfed frame with body shaking orgasms.

Such hedonistic gluttony was dangerous to incorporate regularly. 

Soon you’d start ordering more food. Your stomach just wasn’t getting as full as it used to be. Then you needed more toys. Bigger, longer, more powerful. Some days this routine would happen twice. Long, relieving belches turned into breathy groans of body dominating pleasure.

The effects were starting to show. Your soft, sagging, fleshy apron gut was easily spilling between your legs and covering what you needed to get to most. Soon you had to start making more maneuvers, or riding things to really get that release. Lifting that giant, wobbly orb out of the way became a daily occurrence. Hold it up, slip your arm underneath and into your overhang, letting it flop over your forearm while you pleasured yourself. 

No big deal! Plenty of people have had such heavy, thick, hanging guts that it covered their holes! Not a problem. 

I think the problem started when you’d combine the two steps. 

Moaning around a burger while your toys cause your body to shake. Sighing in deep pleasure while you swallow mouthfuls of meat and bread and cheese. Burping, desperately trying to make room for more as you ride to orgasm. You just needed more. 

More food. 

More pleasure. 

More.

I think you operate best with your mouth choking down a burger, and a long vibrating toy impaling you. I like when your voice is muffled because something is stuffed down your throat, but you have to vocalize because your slit is stuffed too.

A fat slut in her natural habitat. 

[plumpybrooke]

All my clothes are stretching tighter 😩🥰

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

[hungryyprincess]

Will you by my feeder and force feed me

[orangedogsquad]

Happy egg day! From four years old to eight years old

[hungryjigglybuttsblog]

I need a feeder

[tf2heritageposts]

oh hey speaking of mort, i found the old rp documents for them and

1. shockingly the personality description is still dead on to a point where it’s kind of fucking hilarious

2. i found mort’s first design which we made when we were 15

featuring a comical misunderstanding on how overalls work

and here’s mort’s most recent drawing for comparison

funky

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Evidence

Not again. 

Hunger pangs make my insides whine.

Just a few hours ago I ate so much food. Enough for 4-5 people, or 4000+ calories, has completely disappeared. Vanished. Gone without a trace. 

But some evidence remains. 

My fat, overfed gut is spilled over my lap. Thick, blubbery rolls are piled up on my sides and they connect to my fat tits, and my gigantic, overblown back roll. A back roll so massive it stops me from flatly laying against chairs, or beds! My thighs are like huge loaves of doughy bread, yet to bake and risen to completely bulging out. My flabby, meaty, and downright blobby upper arms are attached to squishy forearms. Even my wrists and my hands are chubby. 

Even more evidence is noticeable to the trained eye. 

My whole body is covered in old stretch marks. They’re concentrated most is my fattest parts: belly, back, hips, and shoulders. Tears in my smooth, soft skin from trying to contain gorging after gorging. Tray after tray of baked goods, bag after bag of fast food, plate after plate of delicious dinner, all of it disappeared past my plump lips. 

My body provides plenty more evidence. 

I get so excited. So aroused by the mere idea of overeating. My mouth waters when I think about my mouth opening. My breathing quickens at the thought of my breaths becoming labored after I eat it all. My knees hurt when I stand up, but my knees get weak at the idea that I may not be able to after I’m done eating. 

That it even hurts at all from lugging around this body completely overladen with heavy, sagging fat, completely layered in a weighted blanket of solid, hanging lard…is truly exciting. My lower back yearns for relief from my gut constantly tugging on it. My chest and my double chins make it hard to breath in many positions. My truly enormous ass and overfed thighs make it hard to fit in places. 

All solid evidence. 

But the most damning evidence that there was indeed a family sized portion existing just hours ago in this room with me? 

My overweight, swollen, and completely inflated stomach. A pliable, jiggly, bouncy monument of gluttony. A fleshy orb of desires made real. A lack of self control, an over abundance of food, and a sign of sheer dedication. A sagging, fat sack of meat. A pampered, doted on shrine of self fulfillment.

No one could cultivate all this mass. No one could grow all of this. No one could become this fat. 

Well, unless they were a pig. 

Well, unless they were a slave to their hungry gut. 

Well, unless they lived to completely overfeed themselves. 

There is plenty of evidence. 

[23fallencomets]

whenever i think of logan sargeant i want to kms

he’s so tragic

[gender-critical-analytical]

It's actually kinda crazy how some of y'all will go on and on and on about being against misogynistic beauty standards, but then you'll call a 160lb woman "morbidly obese" and start yapping about what her body was "meant" to look like. Tbh, some of you have an eating disorder that you either haven't recovered from, or aren't even willing to admit that you have, and you are projecting!

[hungryyprincess]

I'm still very much looking for a feeder to plump me off, more stuffing would help rip off this jeans hehe

[sick-sad-little-world]

Not "Floppa," not "Sogga"...

Predators, not pets.

Learn more.

[hungryjigglybuttsblog]

Cow girl drinking her milk with an after picture of my belly stuffing.. can you see how big it is daddy ? This lazy fat hog cow needs a feeder to support my growth..

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Carpentry

I like to work with my hands. I’m a hobby carpenter, and reupholster. I love fixing and making furniture, blue printing ideas, and trying out designs. 

I have a dream that I will constantly be fixing furniture, reinforcing ones I like, and making custom things I can’t find for my partner and me. I already threaten the physical integrity of lots of things all the time. Chairs, couches, and beds all creak beneath my weight now, and some I’ve broken. I’ve fixed a few already. 

But I’m not so worried about my weight as much as hers, and ours. 

You see, I like my women not just fat, but closer to more of a tub of lard than a lady. 300lbs, 400lbs, 500lbs all sounds quite likely for her. I like a truly overweight princess to spoil and make mine. I want her good at eating, sitting, and being on top of me. That sends our combined weight on these poor pieces of wood to 1000lbs or so.

That’s gonna break a lot of furniture. She simply must break chairs because I love when she sits. She simply must collapse a bed because we love laying there. She simply must crack couches because I love pinning her to them. 

Her comfort is my biggest concern. Not only do I want to fix or make her perfect relaxing arrangements, we are gonna need things just for us. Bigger specifications, things with leans and restraints for when we need to do something kinky, and solid back support for the massive guts we will both be carrying around. 

I want to create a home that welcomes her excess. I want to build a home that is sized for us. I want to fashion a home that fits her needs. I want to celebrate, cultivate, and embrace our growing love. I want to give us space to grow into.

We can still break things sometimes. It feels so good to shatter something weak. 

I need to fatten her.