I am definitely at a point now where the thought or mention of food gets me excited. I can’t help myself around any sort of food now I just devour everything.
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Thinking about my belly getting so big that I lose more and more flexibility because it just gets in the way
- first I could no longer touch my toes, not with the way my stomach bunches up and makes leaning forward fully difficult
- then its hard to ties my shoes, or even put them on. I’m forced to lean and twist awkwardly to the side because my bulging belly makes it impossible
- then its hard to lean forward at all. especially after a big meal. most of my time is spent sat back on the sofa, and the rare occasions I have to sit forward to get up are such a struggle that the very act leaves me breathless
- one day, it will be so large, I won’t be able to do anything because of it. I’ll spend my days pinned to the sofa, its soft hang dangling between my widespread legs. Or, I’ll be in bed, which now creaks and groans underneath my impressive weight. I’m stuck on my side, belly spread out before me and so heavy I can barely even roll over, so all I’ll be good for is eating, stuffing my behemoth gut desperately until it is eventually satisfied.
concept: (soon to be chubby) king and a doting consort.
the king often becoming too wrapped up in paperwork and legal matters to remember when to eat, so of course his loyal, loving consort makes sure there’s always a fresh plate of food on his desk at mealtime. if the king is too busy, they’ll hand feed him, ripping off pieces of thick bread, pushing it past his lips, spooning him bites of rich stew. they make sure the king eats until he’s satisfied and agrees to take a break, to which the consort takes him to have a second dinner together.
pampering their king with decadent desserts in bed, refreshing wine during hot baths, the sweetest fruits hand delivered to them during meetings. everyone can see how well the king’s consort is taking care of him, with his hidden jawline and softening figure, no longer jagged lines and hard muscle. he’s more peaceful, more at ease now that he has them by his side.
the consort tending to their king after feasts, sending him teasing glances during the meal, urging him to try this or that, piling his plate high and giving him an encouraging pat to the thigh as he works through his load. taking him back to their shared chambers and stripping him of the tight garments he’s wearing, massaging away any aches in his belly.
that diet of yours was going great back in….september? you were slim, down 30 pounds, and look what happened to you. october came around and you told yourself you could have just one cheat day, right? except one led to two which led to three and then you swore you’d get back on your diet after halloween, a couple pounds could be shed quick.
but then november hit and you kept making excuses on why you weren’t going to the gym as often, why you slept in through your usual morning runs and ate a late breakfast instead. you said once you had all the shopping done for thanksgiving you’d hit the treadmill, but then you couldn’t stop sampling all the desserts you made and then wonder why those jeans you bought back in august won’t zip up anymore.
at the beginning of december you decided it was finally time to get back on track with your diet, except you couldn’t run down the block without having to stop for air, and that’s if you could even manage to get your running outfit on. so you said you’d go get new exercise clothes, but you didn’t and instead you picked up a cake and decided to treat yourself. and you thought there’s no way anyone could blame you for slacking when all the christmas candy looked so good, and you put everyone to shame at the dinner table on christmas day when you finished off seconds, thirds, and fourths before you started to pant. what did it take, six plate fulls before you couldn’t stand up, pinned under your own fat? and those jeans you swore were saved for your “fat” days didn’t last past your third plate of dessert, but you didn’t care, did you?
now its new years eve and you’ve put back on those thirty pounds you worked so hard to lose, plus 20 pounds extra, for good measure. i wonder how heavy you’ll be this time next year.
you know the rules. you don’t get to come until i’ve finished all my food. i want you to sit here and watch me eat all this food, unable to touch yourself or get off at all. if you’ve followed my rules, maybe i’ll let you cum by the end of the night. if you decide to break my rules, i won’t let you come and you’ll have to sit and watch me get myself off, and you won’t get to touch, understand? once i’m full and satisfied, i’ll let you use my leg to get off, but you have to wait for me to cum first, okay baby? can you do that? i’d hate to have to cut my stuffing short because you can’t behave. you want me nice and fat don’t you? then sit there and behave like a good little baby.
