forum  stuffing

your stuffing fantasy2 years


Petty9x:
Yes, I know ;-). But my feedee can! And will! :-)


lucky feedee... ;-)

your stuffing fantasy2 years

Bigpig:
I fantasize about being tied up, force fed, and told how fat I'm going to get/what a pig I am. I also think about being fed and "pleasured" at the same time and being fed in front of an audience.
that sounds very hot

your stuffing fantasy2 years

mine is to be fed nude by chubby men nude, rubbing my belly, kissing me, in bed, in bath tub, in kitchen

your stuffing fantasy3 months

Petty9x:
My Feedee and I go to a club, where people with our fetish meet. All feedees are naked, only wearing a dog collar, with a lead on it. First they were massured: weight, extant.....
Then there is the first battle: Which feedee can eat most? Of course they are neeling like pig and eating out of troughs. After this they are really stuffed, the bellies are hanging, they are sweating like pigs.
Phase two: They will get seated in big chairs like they have at the dentist. Now they get tube-fed till their brim with high-calorie fluid.
In the end they will get measured again.
Winner is who growed the max ;-).
After the feedees had a little break to get to breath, maybe a little bellymassage or whatever ;-) Phase thee is following: Who is able to do some slight sport? A little running, where the full belly is bouncing, a little push ups, sit ups.....
Which Feeder has the best feedee?

Garfield:
I like the tougths. There is only one Thing: pigs can't sweat, it's biologicaly impossible.


Pigs can't sweat, but humans who make pigs of themselves can!

your stuffing fantasy3 months

Petty9x:
My Feedee and I go to a club, where people with our fetish meet. All feedees are naked, only wearing a dog collar, with a lead on it. First they were massured: weight, extant.....
Then there is the first battle: Which feedee can eat most? Of course they are neeling like pig and eating out of troughs. After this they are really stuffed, the bellies are hanging, they are sweating like pigs.
Phase two: They will get seated in big chairs like they have at the dentist. Now they get tube-fed till their brim with high-calorie fluid.
In the end they will get measured again.
Winner is who growed the max ;-).
After the feedees had a little break to get to breath, maybe a little bellymassage or whatever ;-) Phase thee is following: Who is able to do some slight sport? A little running, where the full belly is bouncing, a little push ups, sit ups.....
Which Feeder has the best feedee?

Garfield:
I like the tougths. There is only one Thing: pigs can't sweat, it's biologicaly impossible.


i think this stuffing and exercises later idea is so hot smiley
it would be even better over time with vids to compare and a slightly chubby gf/personal trainer who gets fitter and stronger while secretely making me addicted to sex and food until she has found ways to overpower me with food and sex to make me gain even when i try to resist her or do more exercises.....to compensate her doings in fear of seeing it coming that she might get a chance to get some sweet teasing revenge on me for my evil teasings back then when i liked to tease her about getting chubby so easily when i tempted her and she never could resist my food and seduction .....

your stuffing fantasy3 months

[quote]GrowingLoveHandles:
[quote]Ghouliette:
Good lord.


You need to make this into a short story and post in the stories section. It is just sooooo goooooood!

[quote]lesbianasexualstuffer wrote:
I want to be in a force-feeding centered BDSM relationship, and get caught by my Mistress doing something naughty, like eating dessert that she was saving for later. But instead of getting mad she just smiles sweetly and says it's ok, I can make it up to her right now. She has me help her cook a small dinner party's worth of delicious gourmet food... fancy pasta, roasted duck, a huge designer salad that's more cheese and croutons than vegetables, fresh fruit over thick but foamy vanilla mousse, a fancy spiced Italian pizza, loaves of specialty bread (savory rye, gooey garlic bread, cheese and shallot biscuits...), mounds of expensive, rich cheese, thick juicy steak fillets wrapped in bacon, crepes with custard and sweet jam, a huge cheesecake, batches of caramel chocolate cookies, homemade gelato, dark chocolate eclairs, light fluffy cupcakes in every flavor... And I'm thinking that she's going to punish me by stuffing me in front of a dinner party, there's no way she'll seriously try to make me eat all this... But I sit down and gorge myself anyway, and just as I feel like I'll burst, I weakly ask her when the guests will arrive, but I see her take out her ropes, and the last bite of cheesecake sticks in my throat. I'm powerless to stop her, she's so beautiful and sweet, and I can't let her down... I moan pitifully as she presses a beautiful handmade eclair into my mouth, and prepare for the worst. I'm so, sooo full... I'll probably get nauseous in a few minutes and have to use the safe word, oh but I don't want to, I just want to keep eating and eating... Soon I can feel my jeans forming a restricting meridian around my waist, and my belly feels like it's on fire. But this time it's different. I'm starting to feel a lot of pain and pressure, but no nausea. I groan and steal a glace at my heaving middle. It's bigger than it should be, oh my god, how is she doing this to me? My jeans feel like they're being drawn tighter by corset strings. Just as I feel like they'll cut me in two, a loud pop sounds over my muffled complaining and her giggling and teasing. Unbelievable... is it even possible to pop open jeans by stuffing? My mind feels as heavy as my groaning middle. My skin is stretched tight from chest to legs. Now even my mistress is surprised. How much can you hold, chubby girl? she muses with genuine wonder. Her hands glide over, then poke and prod my distended abdomen. I grunt weakly in between my quick panting. My lungs feel squashed between my stomach and skin. She reopens the bread basket, and garnishes each into a tiny masterpiece of butter, cheese, spices, onions... My brain is screaming at me to stop this, but the rolls are so delicious, I want more... I'm aching and trembling all over, but the fire in my belly is oozing outward, and it overwhelms my nerves so much that I feel euphoric. This is better than an orgasm; it's total surrender to gluttony and overindulgence. Adrenaline rushes into my aching jaws and renews their ravenous fervour. I notice a new sensation on my back and belly, and manage to roll my heavy head down to see. I've swelled up so much, my midsection is lightly nudging the table and the chair back. I fuss over my unnatural shape, but my mistress is mesmerized. She runs her hands over my overstretched stomach, pushing and pinching. But she can't even gather any skin with pinches, it's so very tight... I notice my blissful fire receding, and impulsively call out, ugh, don't stop! She slowly raises her gaze to meet mine, and grins. Oh, I'm not done yet, she says with a sharp, mocking tone. First you eat my dessert, then consume half this feast, and you're still not satisfied. I think it's time I taught you... She pauses and slices a huge wedge of cheesecake. ...Some portion control. I'm in for it now. I practically choke down it's rich, dense mass, she's stuffing it into me so quickly. Bottle after bottle of sparkling juice are drained, plates are emptied, containers are ravaged, pretty tray arrangements are decimated. I can feel my skin stretching, my organs shifting, and my stomach wobbling and sloshing. My arms feel tight against my sides, and my thighs are pushed apart by the weight of my bloated middle. I have lost all human shape, and am decidedly round. My mistress or I should be panicking at my impossible state, but we are powerless to curb our desires. She is frantically gathering the last of the feast now. Eat, eat, eat! She bellows, squealing with glee. I have felt my shirt riding up for a while now, but I begin to see my skin beneath it, even over the quivering horizon of my new expanse. She cheekily pokes a finger into my inflamed navel; her long slender digit doesn't even reach its new depth. I cry out in surprise, anguish, and helpless add

your stuffing fantasy3 months

a lot of my fantasies revolve around being stripped/forcefed against my will, often in very public places.

for example, wandering into a party in clothes two or three sizes too tight and everyone is staring

"Oh!" I ask, "When did you guys hang a swing? And what's up with that keg and tube?"
"Funny you should ask...." the host tells me, cutting the buttons off my shirt...

your stuffing fantasy3 months

Mine is pretty generic, but fun nonetheless.

I've always dreamed that my partner would tie me up to a bed and purposely make me wear very tight or skintight clothes (like a morphsuit or something similar), and then stuff me full of food. I would be as I am now, very skinny. A week's worth of meals and drinks all in one sitting, some of it solid and some blended, with added calories of course! I'd be stuck in place as my belly grows upwards, taller, rounder, and wider, as I let everything flow. Eventually, I pass out and slip into a food coma.

I'd wake up the following day sporting a pudgy belly, with my entire body feeling softer.

I once told my ex about this while we were going out, and it was so embarrassing! Fortunately she's wiped it from her mind, and I've come to accept it as part of who I am now.

your stuffing fantasy3 months

SFBayFFA:
The first post is very close to mine.

I want to go out to a buffet with my feedee, him wearing slightly too tight clothes and myself wearing something very sexy. At first we will both help ourselves to the buffet but after the first 3 helpings my feedee starts to get too full to get up from the booth. I go up for the next few plates while everyone in the restaurant stares at us. At this point I sit down right next to him in the booth and unbutton his belt and part of his shirt and start rubbing his belly under the table while feeding him more and more food from the buffet.

If he can't eat anymore I loosen his shirt and rub some more. After going up for a second helping of dessert the restaurant staff ask us to leave. My feedee can barely talk let alone stand up. His belly is wedged between the table and the booth.

I explain to the staff that he can't get up and that we need help. The staff move the table out of the way and two servers lift my feedee up and help us to the car....all the while the buffet patrons whisper and secretly take photos.

We load him into the car, barely fitting, when he unbuttons the rest of his shirt and lets his huge distended gut ride up out of his jeans and fall in between his legs onto the car seat as he says...."can we stop at dairy queen on the ride home please"
sounds fun I would love to try that

your stuffing fantasy2 months

My biggest fantasy is to own and operate an upscale weight gain resort for women complete with all the anemities. A fully furnished buffet would be open 24/7. Cost would be zero for those staying there. The only obligation would be an agreed upon Wt gain per week. Those that are falling short of their weekly quota will receive special attention to help them meet the agreed upon goals.
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