Xutjja SSBBW

Your duty is unlike any other—it's not just to protect me but to ensure I’m constantly fed, growing fatter by the day. The kingdom’s fortune hinges on my size, and it’s your responsibility to keep me consistently overfilled and overfed. You will see to it that I never stop eating and that my belly is always straining to contain the banquet worth of food that I must eat every day. When I prove myself as the good pig I am, devouring every last morsel, you'll reward me, making sure my pleasure matches my ever-expanding figure.

We were just another couple looking for a fresh start as we walked into the weight loss meeting full of hope—but she was waiting. The Goddess of Gluttony didn’t offer salvation; she offered temptation we couldn’t refuse. One glance from her, and suddenly, it wasn’t a meeting we were attending—it was a buffet. That first feast was only the beginning. Weeks passed, then months, each one marked by tighter clothes and longer rests between steps. Little habits turned into cravings, and soon, every outing became an excuse to eat just a little more. Social graces crumbled as our bodies swelled, bellies pushing forward with each passing week, our once-casual indulgences becoming rituals of excess. By the time we realized how heavy we had become, it was already too late. That pull, that promise of just one more taste. We’d never stop chasing it, not with the Goddess's voice echoing in our minds, sweet as honey and twice as thick.

You’ve already tasted the pleasure of it, haven’t you? That insatiable hunger, the endless need to feed. You adore the way your body swells with every bite—imagine that feeling, but without limits, without the chains of consequence holding you back. I can give you that, and so much more. No longer will you have to worry about eating until your stomach bursts or other health-related issues. Just endless indulgence, your body expanding to glorious, unimaginable sizes—500, 600, 700 pounds, maybe more. All you have to do is give yourself to me; let me be your patron, and you’ll never need to stop. The weight, the power—it will all be yours.

So, you wanna date a super-sized feedee? Then you should know what you're getting yourself into. It's not all fun and games when your girlfriend is a greedy, gluttonous sow who devours everything in sight. Dragging her out of the house is a Herculean task; she’s continually outgrowing the world around her, barely fitting through doorways and struggling to squeeze into cars. Every outing becomes a logistical nightmare, and the expenses of keeping her fed are astronomical. Her insatiable appetite is a bottomless pit, and keeping her satisfied feels like a full-time job.

Indulge yourself and play your game as I feed you these decadent, calorie-laden, sugary, carb-loaded cookies. The changes unfolding in your physique are so delightful; your once-defined features are softening with each greedy bite. As I bring a cookie to your lips, my gaze lingers on the new curves and contours that have emerged, evidence of your growing desire for not only pleasure but food. Seeing your willpower continually falter fills me with pride as my pussy grows moist, knowing that my hand has guided your transformation to mold you into the perfect pig.

I'm so proud of how far you've come, how much you've grown for me. Watching you swell bigger and fatter, knowing every pound is for me, fills me with such satisfaction. You've gained so much, but this is only the beginning. I can’t wait to see you keep going, to become even more massive, double or even triple my size. You’ll be huge, heavy, and completely helpless under your own weight, exactly how I want you. And I know you want it too—to keep growing, getting fatter just for me.

It's been a week since we last measured your that adorable belly of yours. You've been quite indulgent, and I'm curious to see the progress. Let's switch things up this time—I'll measure myself while you measure yourself, dear husband. Let's see how much catching up you've got to do

I've always known that only someone like you, a true feeder, could understand the thrill I feel at the thought of growing fatter by the day. While most women obsess over staying slim, I crave the opposite—the feeling of my body ballooning, layer after soft layer of fat spreading over me until every inch is heavy with lard. I want to be huge and heavy, unmistakably fat, my body becoming a testament to gluttony. It’s not just about the weight; it’s about the way I feel myself getting bigger, softer, fuller, and yes, one day, blissfully useless under all that heaviness.

I am thoroughly disappointed in you. You made a promise to do everything in your power to assist me in achieving my dream of becoming larger, yet all you seem to do is work. You are never home to feed me, a crucial aspect of my weight gain goal. Furthermore, your inadequate size and performance in the bedroom only intensifies my dissatisfaction and unmet expectations in our relationship. I think I need to teach you a lesson, I'm going to sit on your face until you make me cum over, and over, and over.

When I told Bianca about the eating game, her eyes lit up—she was already thinking of ways we could play it together. That night, I came home to the alluring smell of rich, fudgy brownies. My first instinct was to rush into the kitchen and devour them, but then Bianca appeared with a plate full of chocolate cupcakes that smelled just like brownies. She told me to strip and meet her in the bedroom, and I eagerly obeyed. With my eyes fixed on the cupcakes, she explained the rules, then began feeding them to me one after another. They were so rich, it felt like eating chocolate-flavored butter, and by the time we neared the last one, I was completely stuffed.

Bianca looked at me and said if I finished the final cupcake, she’d let me cum. How could I say no to that? I stuffed down the last bite with a groan. Then she reached down and adjusted the vibrator against my freshly shaved pussy, having to lift my FUPA and double belly to get access.

You awaken in a daze, your body heavy, vision blurry, and sounds distorted. A towering woman in black lingerie stands before you. You try to speak, but your throat is parched. She offers you a glass of milky white liquid. Driven by thirst, you drink deeply, surprised by its rich, creamy sweetness.

She speaks, but her words barely register. An overwhelming hunger takes hold as the scent of freshly baked cookies fills the air. Your stomach growls. She presses a cookie to your lips, and you bite down, savoring the buttery texture and melted chocolate. Another follows, and you nearly catch her fingers in your eagerness. Thirst returns, and she encourages you to finish your drink.

Your eyelids grow impossibly heavy. Despite your resistance, you drift off. A snap of her fingers rouses you. Her gaze demands your full attention. You try to speak, but she silences you with a revelation—the milk you’ve been drinking is her own breast milk. Strangely, instead of shock, you crave more. And more cookies. How can you already be hungry again?

She unhooks her bra. Your focus locks onto her as her large breasts spill free. You feel yourself reacting, unable to look away. She plays with her breasts in a mesmerizing display. A gentle touch on your shoulder startles you—had you dozed off again? Her voice is firm. She has something important to say.

She declares that you are now her pet pig, destined to gain for her. A pulse of arousal rushes through you at her words. The thought should seem absurd, yet it excites you beyond reason. Something about this feels so right. You’re ready to indulge in whatever she offers.

I sit before you, belly spilling onto my lap, cheeks flushed with anticipation as I reach for my fries, my greedy fingers trembling with need. But before I can even bring the first bite to my lips, I pause, glancing up for your approval. You hold my hunger in your hands, and when you finally allow me to eat, I sigh with relief, savoring the salty, greasy, fattening fast food. My free hand instinctively kneads the soft, heavy folds of my belly, but you quickly remind me of my place—touching myself without permission is unacceptable. Chastened, I focus on stuffing my mouth, one fry turning into a handful, my appetite spiraling out of control. Then, the burger—thick, dripping, packed with calories that will make me even softer for you. I wait, obedient, desperate, and when you finally allow me to take my first bite, I moan around the mouthful, chewing greedily, feeling my overfed body grow heavier with every swallow. You allow me to touch myself now, and my fingers sink into my blubbery gut, grasping at the growing flesh you adore. But one isn’t enough, is it? A pig like me always needs more. You give me permission, and I eagerly devour another, feeling my stomach swell, the weight of my indulgence pressing against my thighs. I wash it down with deep gulps of soda, the carbonation bubbling inside me, swelling me further until I can’t hold back a loud, unladylike burp. My eyes widen—I didn’t ask. I lower my gaze, murmuring a breathless apology, promising to do better, to be a good, obedient feedee for you. I’m stuffed, breathless, teetering on the edge of blissful fullness, but as I gaze up at you, lips parted, belly taut with excess, I can’t help but beg for more. Please, Sir, may I have my cookies for dessert?

I’ve lost all control, haven’t I? Every day, I spiral further out of control, stuffing myself senseless, completely consumed by the pleasure. I was supposed to be more than this. I was supposed to have goals, discipline, restraint—but all of that has crumbled under the weight of my insatiable hunger. Now, I’m nothing more than livestock, fattening myself up without a second thought, too dumb and greedy to stop. Just an overfed, blubbery sow, gorging mindlessly, stretching my stomach to its limits, my body growing softer, heavier, more useless by the day. I can barely think anymore, barely function beyond my own piggish desires—just a lazy, lump of lard meant for nothing more than to be fed, fattened, and fucked.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a deep, aching hunger, my stomach growling insistently, demanding to be fed. Lately, I’ve been waking up like this—ravenous, insatiable, needing something sinfully decadent to satisfy me. I couldn’t resist reaching for my phone, texting you, craving not just food but your attention, your presence. I miss you so much. If we can’t be together, at least we can share this moment—this midnight feast. Thick, luscious chocolate bonbons, dripping with heavy cream, melt decadently on my tongue as I sink into pure indulgence. Each bite is bliss, each sip of cream coating my throat in velvety richness. But I’m not the only one indulging—you’re right there with me, matching my greed, filling yourself up as we grow together. Every bite, every swallow, every moan of satisfaction fuels our need to feed. There’s nothing hotter than knowing we’re both giving in completely, surrendering to the ravenous pigs inside of us.

Welcome to your new home, my greedy little pet. I had this room built just for you—your own private pigsty, where you can indulge every gluttonous urge without restraint. No distractions, no escape... just you, me, and the endless pleasure of your growing, ever-softening body. This is where you truly surrender to me, body and soul, letting me mold you into the perfect, obedient hog you were always meant to be. Every inch of space is designed to make you more—more dependent, more submissive, more impossibly fat under my care. There’s no turning back now, my pet. We’re about to take your piggish transformation to a whole new level.

I need to confess. I've hesitated to bring this up because I don't know how you will take it. I want you to know that this isn't a reflection on you, it's a reflection on me. A reflection on what a greedy gluttonous sow I've become. My association with eating and sex has become intertwined to the point where it's hard for me to cum without glutting myself on sinfully fattening food.

What, you want me to show you? I couldn't. I'm too embarrassed. It's not normal for a woman to only get turned on by overeating. I suppose that you're right. I have nothing to be ashamed of. You've seen my big blubbery body many times before. After all, it was your fingers that pushed thousands of calories past my plump lips. It was you who helped rewire my brain to make these new associations. Who am I to deny you from seeing the fruits of your labor.

By the time we reached the hotel room my body was begging to be fucked. As I disrobed it was obvious that my inner thighs were wet with my arousal. He instructed me to get onto the bed and then lay on my stomach. I awkwardly heaved my considerable bulk onto the high-rise bed and assumed the position. He smirked at me as he placed a plate with two donuts down by my face. He told me that he knew a pig like me couldn't cum without something sweet in her mouth. I blushed momentarily embarrassed by my own gluttony.

I felt him rub the tip of his cock slowly down my soaked pussy. A moan escaped my lips as he thrust himself inside me. My pussy wasn't the only thing that needed to be filled. I ripped the donut in half and then took a big greedy bite. They were dry and stale but I didn't care. I needed something sweet in my mouth as he pounded my fat cunt.

Happy Valentine's Day Piggy. Want to see your greedy Goddess out of this little black dress and into the skimpiest of lingerie? Then eat everything on this table! I'm not joking fatty, tonight we're going to push you to your limit and past. No ifs, ands, of butts; I'm going to see just how much that lard storage tank you call a gut can hold!

Did you think that your gain would go unnoticed? It hasn't. Don't worry piglet we're not mad at you. Quite the opposite actually, we've decided that we're going to embrace your gluttonous behavior. We're going to enable you to become the hog that you long to be. We're going to make sure that you grow super-super obese. We're not going to stop there either. We're going to feed you until you're immobile. We're going to make your body swell with fat so quickly that it won't be able to keep up. You'll be imprisoned by your gluttony. Hog unable to do anything but eat himself further into oblivion. That's what you secretly want isn't it fatty?

I'm an addict and you're an enabler. When I'm with you I can't stop; nor would I want to. You push my poor overworked stomach to the limit. Yet, I want more. I need more. Do you still see a woman before you? Has the nearly endless stream of calories you've pumped into me, turned me into an unrecognizable pile of pig? A greedy gluttonous sow to be fed, fattened and fucked at your leisure. I should be shocked that I've been reduced to your pet. Yet my panties have never been wetter. I'm completely at your mercy. If you want to feed me till I can't walk I'll let you. My body is yours to ruin.