A new comic commission! “Bursting With Enthusiasm”.

https://x.com/Starollaxy/status/1776775132767248391

You expect to wake up to your alarm; maybe your partners arm slinking over your waist, the cat pressing itself into your space. Any of your normal indicators that it's time to wake up.

What you don't expect, however, is to feel the thick underside of a gut brushing against the bottoms of your knees, an unfamiliar dip in your sofa, normally vacant space on the couch filled in by a wide, soft expansion of...you.

The second thing you feel is something cold and wire-like being squeezed by the unfamiliar folds of your throat, coupled with cold air shooting into your nose. You reach with with a newly bloated hand, fingers tight and tingling with a numbness you recognize via hours of horny scrolling through diabetes symptoms pages. You shudder as you pull a sweat greased cord to a nasal cannula from your third or fourth chin, huffing slightly. Most likely from holding your arm up past your chest for longer than a few seconds for the first time in God knows how long.

You move onto to the main issue; hands travel down, sausage fingers wrap themselves around your third to last love handle, right under your saggy f-cups, breathing unconsciously growing harder as you wobble one of your many new slabs of meat. You smooth your hands over your belly, a pale white apron taking up your entire lap, now the size of a park bench and about as soft as a bowl of cool whip, stiff peaks melted down to a flabby mess and dripping off your thighs, burying your crotch and a swollen fupa.

You hold your arms out in front of you, cellulite and blubber dripping off of them as you think about all the times you prayed for this. Fantasizing with weighted suits, peeping at larders in public, eyes closed, hands down your pants as you wondered what it would be like to carry all of *this*. Now you're here, taking up your entire sofa, barely able to turn your blubber packed neck, wheezing from just hardly shifting your arms up and down. Amble pockets of stretch marked flab ripple across your arduous form. There's only one question that wracks your mind after you've half-processed your new reality-

"Good morning, larder."

He strolls in, grease stained plain white box wider than his shoulders gripped in both hands. You inhale through your nose, instinctively starting to scoot over to make room for him on the couch before your fluid-logged hip crashes against the arm. The act leaves your already corroded joints sore and your mouth sucking for air like a fish. He makes eye contact with you like a predator does a wounded boar. "Babe," You wheeze, the ensuing *What's going on, etc etc* cut off by a cream filled doughnut shoved past your lips. Your chins press against your throat and jiggle against your collar bone as you chew it in two big bites, taking it down your throat and sucking the white cream filling off his finger. Gulping it down leaves you panting for breath and he cuts off your struggle with a kiss, groping your right blubberous tit. You close your eyes and reach for another doughnut. Maybe you'll be fatter when you wake up...

Source

https://x.com/TeamKType/status/1665913821842620418?s=20

Source

Little before and after update for those who haven’t seen it!

Before at 110lbs

After at over 400lbs

You’re morbidly obese. Morbid. Think about that. Regarded as disturbing or unhealthy. And you’ve surpassed “morbid obesity” ages ago, but you’re not slowing down. You can’t help yourself. It’s getting worse. I’m making it worse. Does that turn you on? It’s getting harder to fit into public spaces. It’s getting harder to reach yourself. It’s getting harder to convince yourself not to completely let yourself go. It’s almost like humans weren’t meant to get this big. Give in to it. Give into your hedonism and gluttony. Give into your true desires. Give into my teasing, encouragement, humiliation. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Do it for your feeder.

not to be gay but its really hot when a girl is life-threateningly fat

I want to be unapologetically obese. More so than IU already am.

I'm gonna show my size. Flaunt it. Be seen as the growing obese girl I am.

When my shirts start to ride up and show my belly, I'm not going to adjust them. I'll let my belly be seen!

If I need to take a break because I'm getting too tired, out of breath, and sweaty, then I'm going to take a break!

If I can't reach something because of my size, then I'm going to make a show of it.

I'm not going to be afraid to ask for accommodations because of how big I'm getting! I'm going to take up space! I'm going to be fat and get even fatter!

I’m really craving the domestic feeder life right now. Feeding without even getting turned on, just the daily grind. I want you to give me a silly, teasing look when I bring you your plate that makes me laugh and go back to the kitchen to pile on more. I want to put my hand on your belly in public while we talk to our friends, just to rest there with soft affection. I want to make jokes about keeping my man happy. I want you to make those jokes too. I want to slide my hand along your side rolls and give you a kiss when I see you in a bathing suit, saying something about how good you look. I want to lean against your side in the hot tub, your arm over my shoulder, and feel completely surrounded. I want you to kiss me as you walk past me to the kitchen, and to yell after you distractedly about reheated breakfast while I type. I don’t want this to just be some kink to keep under wraps, I want a life.

feedee losing a leg due to onset diabetes = immobility speed run

Reblog if you're into soft XWG. Wholesome-but-extreme, extreme-but-wholesome. Scalebreaking weights celebrated with praise and caresses. Playful flirtation during gigantic all-day binges. Extreme sizes as an opportunity for tender caretaking. The warmth and intimacy of getting really fucking fat.

Often it seems like the line of division is between option 1, wholesome soft feedism with plump round tummies, and option 2, extreme weight gain and supersizes accompanied by degradation and shaming kinks. Neither of these are "wrong" ways to fantasize (as long as option 2 doesn't involve real life fatphobia), but I'm a fan of option 3.

thinking feedism is evil is a skill issue tbh

Your new pic of Naegi is so damn good. Could you please post all your pics of Makoto Naegi again?

Thank you, and sure! He's by far one of my favorite DR guys to see fat, I gotta draw him more often

idk what the fuck it is about burping that turns me on so much?? like watching a girl grope her gut and burp a lil has me adjusting my pants and shit LMFAO

looking particularly round today 😌