Can I turn you into my new kitten?

I'll put a collar around your neck, with a cute little bell so I always know where you are. I'll let you live a very sedentary life with me. You won't have to worry about work or bills or any of that. You can just laze around and do whatever you want all day, and I'll make lots of yummy food for you.

The only rules: You can only move around by crawling on all fours. It wouldn't make much sense for a cat to stand. And you have to eat anything and everything you can get your hands... or... paws? on. Naturally like any greedy little kitten you should get adorably chumby and I'll be very happy once your tummy is dragging against the floor as you crawl to your next meal.

Pull up that shirt for me, tubby, I want to see how much you have grown for me. Oh, dear…No nothing, you’re just… bigger than I expected.  Weren’t those jeans loose on you when we first met? God they are so snug now. You’re really spilling out of them. When was the last time you exercised love? Looking at you…. I’d say it must have been a couple of months ago. At least. You really let yourself go huh. Maybe someone got a tad too comfortable in our relationship. You’ve been lying on your back, munching on the pastries I baked for you, slowly outgrowing your clothes. Those trousers are really digging into your sides now. You must be so uncomfortable. Why dont you let me unbutton them for you, my chubby darling… There you go. Much better. Oh what is that? A stretchmark? Gosh it looks brand new. My godness, perhaps I’ve been overfeeding you dear. Mmm…. Maybe I shouldnt put quite so much butter and cream in your food…. Or bake so much for you… but i just can’t resist feeding you, seeing your face light up as you savour my heavy, rich food. I wanna keep my special someone happy, content and well fed. And dependent on me.

Imagining him sitting on a couch under me, moaning and trying to stifle burps. He can ask me to stop but he keeps eating anyway, taking everything I put in front of his mouth. His shirt is pulled up and resting on his bloated tummy, his jeans undone and framing his lower belly perfectly. Weakly letting his head fall back as he rubs his stomach with one hand and runs the other through his hair. How I would get on my knees between his thighs just to kiss his belly everywhere, pulling little whines and gasps from his lips, my teeth nipping at the soft spot of underbelly below his navel. Enough to drive me crazy.

You’ve been such a good boy, letting me fatten you up like this. You’re so adorable when you open your mouth so obediently, allowing me to feed you spoonfuls of pudding and cream. You’ve been gobbeling up everything I put in front of you, like a really good boy. Just like you should. And you’ve gotten nice and fat as a result. Mhm, you like it when I squeeze your belly roll like this? Mhm. You like being reminded of how much I fattened you? I really put my mark on you, didnt I tubby…. God those buttons are holding on for their dear life, arent they! And you were so slim when we first met… When people see you now, they will see how well I’ve fed you. How I made you mine by fattening you up, slowly but steadily. They will see that you belong to me now.

Imagine trying to get up to get the food that was delivered to the door. You're pushed gently back down. It doesn't take much to overpower these days even with all of the extra weight you have now. You squeal in delight when it gets brought to you ready to eat. You eat and eat and eat. Your soft plump tummy covered in stretchmarks ranging from red to white as it gets pushes out further and further from your feast. At this point, you're already full, but you want more, you NEED more. You're getting tired and you can really get past your poor tummy being so full. "Come on baby, just eat a few more bites. For me. . .?" After a few little burps and some painful hiccups later, you regain your composure and keep a slow steady pace to finish the gorgeous spread that was laid before you. Your tummy is screaming in pain and you feel your skin stretching as it has every day since you've gotten together, and it feels so good. They rub your tummy and you digest, but you can't help it, to want just one. more. bite. . .

By the time you realize just how much pure fat you’ve allowed to accumulate onto your body, it’s already too late. You’re fucking massive. It’s too late to ever come back from this. You’ll be trapped under this thick, inescapable pile of lard for the rest of your life 🤤

You want to slim down? Oh no no, tubby. Dont even think about it. Youre not allowed to slim down. I’ll keep you nice and fluffy, at a weight that I find appealing. You don’t really have any saying in this, dear. I put in so much nurturing and love to get you to this weight, I wont let you ruin my hard work.

You know what? I think… From now on, we are going to limit your physical activity. No more exercise, no more excessive walking. What was that? It will make you balloon? Well that is kind of the point, tubby.

I want a feeder to wake me up with bags of fast food breakfast.

I want them to help me finish mcgriddles and breakfast burritos until each bag has been emptied and crumpled up into the trash, and then I want them to rub my belly until I fall asleep.

They can wake me a few hours later with a home cooked breakfast, ask me to praise their cooking over the grease they fed me earlier. They'll say they know I love the grease but sometimes you need to eat something made with love.

After second breakfast they'll help me out to the couch and put on something for me to watch, with a game controller within reach for when I'm no longer sleepy and stupid from food and can play video games.

From then on out they bring me snacks and soda constantly, only breaking for lunch and dinner.

And once I'm shoving dinner into my greedy mouth they start bringing me beers, whiskey, wine, whatever drink they've chosen tonight to make me happily drunk and bloated. They'll help me take hits off my pen until I'm too high to feel how full I am, and begging for snacks.

I want to end the day feeling enormous, loved, and happy, too heavy to get off the couch. I want that feeder to tease me because we're trying to wait until I've digested enough to get up and walk to bed but I keep asking for more food and making that wait time longer.

I want to outgrow my clothes and know my feeder already has new ones for me, but they're going to ask me to wear the tight ones while I game and they feed me

One of my favorite views is when he's laying in bed on his side and the only thing poking out from his blankets is his big round belly 🥰😍

get fat, it's hot

I love when robot caretakers glitch out and totally misinterpret human diet/weight. Imagine waking up to discover that your robomaid has bugged out and stuck a 0 on the end of your necessary daily calorie intake and relentlessly stuffs you all day so you meet it. There's no argument or appeal to reason that would work you HAVE to eat otherwise they would not be taking proper care of you and violating their programming.

I think someone giving me food whenever i’m angry/upset would be hot like tell me to shut up and eat, that i’m just upset because i’m hungry, keep me full so I never have the chance to be upset

I can’t talk back if my mouth is full

“I shouldn’t eat another plate. I’m starting to gain some weight” You tell me, even though you are practically drooling at the sight of food.

Your weight gain is undeniable, your clothes have been fitting less and walking upstairs has become a chore. You spend most of your days at home playing games and snacking on stuff, all it takes is for me to leave them out and refill your drinks when you’re running low because you are so absorbed playing games you don’t notice you are on your third bag of chips.

“Oh, really? I could barely tell,” I act surprised , as if I’m not the cause. “Food tastes best when still warm though, are you sure you don’t want more?” at this point I can tell you are fighting against your own desires. To make matters worse I’m already holding up the spoon to your mouth, sitting down on your lap and leaving kisses around your shoulders.

“Well maybe one more day of indulging won’t hurt…” At this point I can’t help but smile, once again I have made you do exactly what I wanted. I push the food in your mouth and hear you moan under your breath, groaning at how painfully stuffed your belly is.

“Let me help you” I tell you with a smile, rubbing your overstuffed gut as I keep feeding you plate after plate, you don’t even notice you finished the entire thing before falling into a food coma.

But it never stops after one day of indulging. Before you know it three servings has become your regular portion. Asking me to feed you more even though you’re painfully full happens almost daily and you get whiny when your snacks don’t refill themselves. Sweatpants have fully replaced your regular ones and you never bring up holding yourself back anymore.

At this point your weight has become undeniable, I pinch your growing sides while you are laying on the couch one day and you unconsciously moan. “Baby you seem to be getting fat, what happened to you?” I smile at you innocently, while feeding you more sweets… “Look at how much you’ve been eating, you will only keep getting bigger if you keep going like this.” I rub the underside of your belly hang, and try lifting it up, which makes you aware of how much weight you have actually put on

This would make anyone reconsider their own gains, but it has the opposite effect on you, you get more aroused than you thought possible. You start craving it, you want to get bigger, gluttony just feels undeniably good. “More… Please feed me more” You moan, almost beg. And who am I to say no? I’m the reason you are like this after all.

Don’t worry baby, I won’t let you go hungry. Open up for me💕

By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to get up anymore ~

There are people out there who want to lose weight, but most of you, I assume, are eager to gain; to grow and change. You want to gain endlessly, piling on pound after pound until— what? When do you want it to stop? How big is too big? Where is your goal post?

Well, wherever it may be, I hope you can shape your body into one you're comfortable and happy in. I hope one day you can say, "I am beautiful" without a hint of doubt.

Eating more food means more capacity, and more capacity means you get to eat more food. It's a win-win.

It amazes me just how fucking heavy people get as they get fatter.

You’re just constantly aware of this big sagging sack of lard hanging off of you and pulling on your back. Hearing the bed creak more and more as you gain. Hearing chairs crack and groan underneath you, having to wonder whether they’re gonna hold all of your massive weight or simply give out underneath you. The struggle of standing up, having to heave your own lard around. Hearing the floor creak under your heavy, labored footsteps. Getting slower, more out of breath. Your puffy arms being forced outwards due to your fattening chest. Being buried underneath your own fat when you lay down, your fat chest and tits engulfing your disappearing neck, looking like they’re trying to suffocate you.

It’s hard work lugging all that excess lard around everywhere you go. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you? Of course you wouldn’t. You love it when I lift your fat belly up, my skinny arms struggling to hold it all before watching it slam back down onto your thighs as I release it, the swift motion sending ripples up and down every inch of your fat laden body. And you can’t help but love the feeling of gravity trying to force you back down to where you belong: either sitting back or laying down. Standing is too much work for someone as hugely obese as you. It’s so much more comfortable down here anyway, isn’t it?

Everything from your cellulite covered thighs, huge double chin, thick softening chest, pillowy sagging arm fat, and ginormous ever-growing belly, is ever present on your body. Constantly commanding your attention as you jiggle with each and every step you take. As you feel the weight of your belly on your expanding lap when you sit down. As you feel your jeans digging uncomfortably into your ballooning waistline. As you feel your obese belly get in your way when you reach down to put your shoes on. As you start to feel your gut bulging into the steering wheel as you add more food onto your order in the drive thru. You’re becoming more lard than anything else. There’s absolutely no escaping just how fucking fat and heavy you’ve made yourself at this point. And let’s be honest, you and I both know how much you love it. How much you need it.

So don’t be shy, baby. Give in to gravity.

I really love FEELING heavier