What I Want in a Feeder

-To make my belly hang over my knees, and then eventually drag along the floor so it’s out of my reach, covered in stretchmarks and infinite rolls

-To condition me to cum from being stuffed so I always need to be filled to cum

-To make me too fat to masturbate so I’m reliant on them or just trying to hump my own flesh to feel something 

-To make use of all the new rolls and folds of fat they’ve added to me, fucking them instead of my pussy and making sure I’m trained to get pleasure from that

-To not let me stop gaining until I’m as big as they want me, even if I resist, because they want me to look like a circus fat lady 

-To make me so huge I’m forced to waddle around when I can still move, every part of me jiggling just for their enjoyment and amusement, out of breath and sweaty just from walking across the room

-To only be allowed to wear clothes that are slightly too small and be forbidden from doing anything that tries to hide my fat from view, if my belly doesn’t stay in my shirt I’ll have to just let it show, every humiliating inch of cellulite-ridden flab visible

-To be made to display my gluttony for all to see in public whenever my feeder wants, eating enough for 5 people and putting my body on display in crop tops and tight shorts

-To be tied down and force fed with a funnel if I’m not cooperative, because I’m going to keep getting fatter whether I want to or not. 

-To be forced to eat until I can barely move and have to use a scooter to get around, especially in public so everyone can see the consequences of what I’ve done to myself

-To make fun of me and humiliate me as much as possible so I can never forget what I’ve become, a waddling wheezing blob of lard whose only purpose is to get fatter and fatter