Force Feed - Tumblr Posts

10 months ago

NEW - FIRST FEEDING VID EVER đŸ·

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Watch daddy get force fed, stretching & ballooning this tank to the max. What you’ll see:

. Force feeding

. Belly and moob play

. Crazy burps

. Chugging

. Talking about all this fat

. Gut punching & more âŹ‡ïž

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10 months ago

Big daddy had his first feeding session. My jiggling, doughy, soft body was worshiped and stuffed until I couldn’t move. It was SO fucking hot đŸ”„

Wanna see 😈 ?

âŹ‡ïž

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1 year ago
The Digi-feeder 3000! Equipped With The Most Advanced Technologies! Adjustable Armrests, Cushions Filled

The digi-feeder 3000! Equipped with the most advanced technologies! Adjustable armrests, cushions filled with memory foam and a wireless automatic muzzle, so your Digimon doesn't get tired of chewing. Order Now!!!


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9 months ago

Hey fat boy.

Yea. YOU.

What are you doing? Go back to the kitchen and eat. Now. You’re not really full. You can’t possibly be since you walked in here.

Eat pig. Or I’ll make you. Eat until you’re almost in tears with how bad your gut aches. You promised you’d gain. Prove it.

Spend the week drinking a gallon of gainer a day. If you actually want me to suck you off you’ll drink two. Make yourself fat enough that I have to give you the most attention out of all my fat pets.

Prove it you pathetic squirming fatass. I can see you rocking your hips from here. You can’t touch until you can barely reach.

Now go get fucking fat for me.

Or I’ll make you so fat you’ll be mine forever.


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Down a Level

"Well at least I’m trying to stay fit!” Those were probably the last stinging words that sealed my fate. The way Connor looked at me was full of resentment, he was working an office job, and had started to put on just a little bit of chub. He was embarrassed, and I brought it up like a dick. My own free time was devoted to the gym and my dissertation - things Connor had been proud of me for, and had been supporting my pursuits - but s my husband looked at me, I felt an anger I hadn’t seen from him before. 

“No reason to rub it in,” he said, and started poking at pasta in front of him. The table fell silent, and the argument felt heavy in the air.

“I’m sorry babe-“ but his fork stabbing into the noodles clearly meant we weren’t talking about ti anymore. I joined his silent eating. By the time we were finsihed eating, the sun had set outside.

‘I wish,” he started with a sigh, “that you were on my level.”

Oh. This was that again. Connor had always thought I was too good for him. I was fit when we met, starting to begin my bodybuilding, and top of the class. Hell, I got my Master’s and was working on my PhD, while all he’d managed to do in the meantime was earn a basic job. It paid bills, but my stipend was paying for the apartment. 

“Do you want to top tonight?” My joke made him huff. I didn’t chase it further. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have apologized more. Maybe, if I ‘d known what was coming, I would have begged him not to do it.

The next morning, he woke me up with a breakfast in bed. A banana smoothie, and he watched me drink it. 

“Sorry for the tiff last night
” he was watching me drink it a little too closely, “I just sometimes get so frustrated, looking at how perfect you are compared to me.”

I shook my head, and pursed my lips, drawing him in for a kiss. I felt a little good, a little floaty.

“I’m sorry for this.” Sorry for what, I thought, and then realized I had been thinking that thought for a while, he had moved on, his dick looked good in his pants, and he looked really kissable, and I don’t know what I’m really thinking about anymore, but the throbbing hardness in my own pants was starting to get distracting. Oh my god, he drugged me. How much
weed Wass in that smoothie. God. It felt good.

‘Anyways, I see you still get excited when you’re high.” He was pointing at me. My cock was twitching in my hand. I felt a little disembodied, like I was holding my own, but also somebody else’s dick in my hands. “Good boy.” He ruffled my hair. Everything was moving really fast. “You’re gonna stay home and be my good boy today, okay? No gym. No writing. You’re gonna be my good pup.”

That did sound nice. And, it’s not like I was gonna be able to drive in this state. I nodded at him, blinked, and he was back in front of me, with McDonald’s in his hands.

“Did you just lie there all day?” I looked at the clock on my bedside table. It was 5:30. Had I stayed in bed all day? What did I do all day? A burger was put in my mouth. Oh my god I hadn’t reized how hungry I was. I was starving. The burger was gone in seconds, and another was handed to me. “Good boy.” My dick perked up, and I felt it ache. My balls were blue, the sensation made me involuntarily whine. “Do you need something, pup?” Yes. Yes. Yes. Food and an orgasm. And I was given both. My mind lost in a foggy haze, I must’ve eaten 20 burgers. Probably not actually, right? He wouldn’t have bought that many burgers. And I remember his mouth around my cock.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt lucid again. My stomach was sore, and I felt bloated and heavy. Before I knew it, Connor had a smoothie in front of me. I gave a weak push to the smoothie, but it was forced in my mouth, and I was suddenly worried. I couldn’t do this again. One day was kinda of funny and cute, but again? This time, Connor wrapped something round my cock, it pulsed rhythmically. It felt good. Barely even fully sober, I felt my mind starting to cloud again. How much weed was he putting in these? What was I thinking about?

The next few weeks were a drug addled blur. Every morning, Connor force fed me a smoothie, and I was a lump of dough ready to be baked. McDonald’ wrappers were everywhere, and the standing mirror in the room showed my muscular body was getting softer. I don’t know how much he was feeding me, but it was definitely starting to catch up to me. The milking machine made me cum again. God, I was turning into a cow. My once strong pecs had begun to sag, piling over my now bloated belly. I wasn’t sure if I looked pregnant, but I certainly looked ready for children. A double chin had started to form, and as I poked it, I noticed Connor standing behind me.

“How’s my good boy today?”

“What did you do?”

“I’m bringing you to my level.”

“But I’m smart-“

“Not anymore, by the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be my stupid bull of a husband. Now aren’t you hungry?” My stomach growled in response. “Good boy”

Nearing 400 pounds, I realized I really liked this life. I don’t think anymore. I just eat and cum. Connor takes care of me. He’s been going to the gym. He’s getting bigger too. He likes to brag. He likes to see me high. He likes how my mouth feels around his cock. And I didn’t have to think anymore.

“Does my good bull need more cake?” I mooed in affirmation. Cake filled my vision. I was always so hungry. The weed made me hungry.

“Does my good bull need to cum?” I mooed in affirmation. The pulsing around my cock grew faster. My balls emptied again. Already churning more.  I was always so horny. The weed made me horny.

“Does my good bull need more cock?”  I mooed in affirmation.  The cake was smeared across my face, as his cock filled my mouth. I sucked. He moaned. I mooed. He came. He was always so horny seeing me like this. The weed made me like this.

“You’re such a good bull. You’re such a good bull” Connor said, ruffling my mess unkempt hair. “I can’t wait to see how big we get you. I’m glad you like my special smoothies.” I do. I can’t imagine another life anymore. I just want to be a big, soft bull.


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