- getting fatter -

    What am I looking for?  I prefer women.  However, I know that there are very few female feeders out there and the chances of finding one who is into what I am, especially one that is local to me, is practically nil, which is pretty frustrating.  Experience in dominant feeding is a definate plus.  Most important is having a strong resolve and willingness to see it through to the end.  Also, I need to be able to trust you.  You need to want a long-term feeding relationship and you must be obsessed with all aspects of supersized women and love to watch someone eat and overeat.  You need to be interested in growing a small person into your ideal fat woman.

    I don't want to self-feed.  There would be little satisfaction in making myself gain, as well as a sense of guilt;  weight I gain alone would be fat that I didn't submit to having someone else put on me.  I could probably keep putting off gaining weight and becoming the real me indefinately.  I know my resistance might slowly fade over the years and, like most other people, I'll gradually gain and spread out over time (middle age spread?), but that's not the best way.  The sooner I get fed, the more of my life I'll get to spend being fat.  Besides, it's more meaningful to share it with someone else.  I need a dominant feeder to step in and do what must be done, to turn me into the kind of woman you like best-- utterly fat.  Overcome my reluctance to gain--wear down my willpower and convince me to open my mouth for your food.  Convince me to become lazy and totally let myself go.  Since I'm submissive feedee and like helplessness, I want you to make me fatter and flabbier.  Impose it upon me.  I want to lose all say in the matter.  I want to give control of my weight, diet, and growth over to my feeder, totally and irrevocably.  After my initial consent, my weight will be completely out of my hands.  It's kind of scary to realize that the consent may well be the last decision I ever make about my size and my eating habits, but it's also exciting.  It's kind of like a slide:  at the top I'm relatively skinny and in control, and at the bottom is the image of the helplessly huge woman my feeder wants me to become.  Once I push off, I won't be able to stop or slow myself, and I get fatter the farther I go, sliding inexoribly towards that image until I slide into it and it becomes me.

    One of my deepest desires is to surrender the power to say 'no more'.  I want to know that once I give up control and that if my feeder sticks with it, I will inevitably end up a waddling, jiggling fattie no matter what.  No way to back out, no escape, no way to avoid that fate.  The very first fattening bite will start me down a path that you won't allow me to stray from until I'm grossly overweight.  My waistline will no longer be under my control;  it would belong to my feeder.  It's so exciting to imagine being a helpless observer, watching in amazement and disbelief as my body expands around me and starts to sag, as stretchmarks bloom, as I grow into and then grow out of ever larger clothes, as my meals get bigger and fattier and both my stomach and appetite grow to accomodate.  I want to need to eat more and more and feel myself become heavier and heavier even while I feel increasingly powerless to prevent it.  Every day I imagine what it would be like to see my tummy growing into a soft, jigging potbelly, and continuing to swell and start to sag under its own weight, and fold over into a tiny baby apron (and that magical moment the first time I feel my growing apron brush my the tops of my thighs while still standing), what it would feel like to get heavier all the time, what it would be like to need to eat more and more just to get full.  I imagine what it would be like to go through the stages of plump to fat, fat to obese, obese to supersize.  What it would be like to see rolls form on my body, deepen into permanent creases, and form new rolls of their own.  What it would feel like to have heavy fat hanging from every inch of my body, or to see such a body every time I looked in the mirror.  Or discovering what it actually felt like to have my girth prevent me from reaching some parts of my own body.  What it would be like to realize I could no longer run or even walk fast, only plod along in a waddle.  What would it be like to be bigger than I ever imagined possible and not want to gain any more weight, yet still have to keep getting fatter?  And the best part would be not being able to stop any of it.  My only absolute limit you must agree to is to not make me immobile (or so close to immobile that it'd be inevitable).. I need to be able to fend for myself and get around on my own, even if it's not very gracefully or as easily as before.  I don't wish to gain nonstop for life or spend the rest of my life in bed, nor am I going for any record-breaking size.  The purpose of the gaining is to simply make me end up as a very fat woman and to insure that I remain that way for life.

    I want to know that I'll continue to get fatter even after the initial thrill of the feeding wears off.  I'm sure that there will be times when I panic and change my mind or get scared.  I might not truly believe that I could ever end up like one of those supersize women I envy, even after I started to put on some weight.. but my feeder would believe.  I can imagine that starting out I might just see it as a fun game, a new experience, an indulgence in a long time fantasy.  There may well come a point that it's no longer the naughty thrill that it was at the beginning and I become reluctant to continue.  After all, 10 or 20 pounds isn't a big change, but 50 is.  Eventually, I'll reach a certain size that will make me realize that it's no longer a fantasy or a simple game, and that it's really happening.  I'll have really and truly begun to get seriously overweight.  I'll understand first hand that there are real, long-lasting or even permanent consequences to having surrendered control over my weight.  I'll realize how much work it would take to lose what I had already gained and that any further gain would make it all the more difficult.  I'll find that the dream is becoming a squishy, heavy reality, and I will understand that if you kept feeding me, I will eventually end up supersized, buried in my own womanly flab.  At that point, I might get overwhelmed and say, "I want to stop.  It's too real.  I'm big enough, I'm not curious anymore.  I'm already too fat, I don't want to get bigger."  But if your goal is for me to be much larger, be firm and keep feeding me until I am.  I must end up huge if it's what you want, even if I try to change my mind.  I might fight with you to get back control over decisions about my growth or my diet.  Don't let me have it back.  All of the weight gain decisions will be yours, not mine.  I might beg, plead, or try to bargain with you to stop making me fatter.. I may ask you to postpone it a while or at least slow down so that I can get used to my current weight for a couple of years.  If you're okay with me slowing down, that's fine-- it's your choice.  But if you want me to continue gaining, that's when you need to be firm and ignore my complaints and keep me eating through those rough patches.  Day by day, through steady gain, making it increasingly harder for me to go back and lose the weight if I tried.  There will surely come a point of no return when I'll see that I've gotten so fat that it would be just take too much hard work, dieting, and exercise to lose even half the weight I'd gained, and I'll just give up and surrender to my size... far easier to just keep eating and getting fatter than to try and get skinny again.  If possible, you could grow me to that point before I even fully realize it, before the reality of the situation kicks in enough to cause me to have serious second thoughts.  I'm not sure what size that point of no return might be for me, but the sooner you get me there, the sooner I'll accept that I can't stop you, that I can't prevent my continuing fattening, and that I will end up the size you want me to be.

    I would consent beforehand to let you disgregard any objections I might have later on in regards to my growth, since you'll understand that being turned into a fat-laden sow is my fate.  How much I eat and what I weigh will no longer be under my control.  You'll understand that my protests and reluctance is just that part of me that is holding on to the image of being thin and conventionally attractive, a part that is struggling to keep me from being a contented, well-fed, and well-fattened sow.  You'll understand that, for my own good, you need to gag that skinny, inner bitch with food, smother her with fat until she's wiped out and all that is left is a fatslave who finally accepts that there can be no going back.  You'll have the final say concerning what and how I eat, how fast or slow I gain, and anything else that might effect my fattening (such as some physical activities that might burn off calories that you wanted me to keep).  Whether I gained as rapidly as possible or in slower plateaus or stages would be up to you.  This doesn't mean that you or I give up the option to leave the relationship for whatever reasons, but that for as long as I choose to remain as your feedee, I implicitly consent to give up all rights over my diet, growth, and ultimate size.  Of course, you could always manipulate me into being less psychologically able to leave the relationship (I go into that sort of stuff on the humiliation page) or alter my eating habits to such a degree that I would continue to gain even without you.  Conversely, as long as you stay as my feeder, you must put in the effort to keep me growing until I reach your goal. 

    You can use whatever methods are necessary.. positive reinforcement and seduction (like physical pleasure as a reward for over-eating or getting stuffed), coaxing and encouragement ("Open wide, baby, and eat for me.  I can't wait to see your fat belly resting on your lap.  You know it'll feel so nice.  Be a good piggy for me, eat up and get fatter."), punishment (I don't need a lot of pain, a little goes a long way for me, and I'm far more inclined to obey honeyed, sternly seductive demands than cold, barked orders), force-feeding, funnel feeding, restraint and bondage, ultra-fatty concoctions (weight gain shakes, heavy cream, loads of desserts), intoxication, appetite stimulants, enforced laziness .. whatever it takes to make me as fat as you want, as long as you know what you're doing and it's not dangerous.  I'm susceptible to repeat and insistent persuasion in the form of temptation.  I want my will to resist to be worn down until I was willing to do most anything.  Of course, once I lost any will to resist or came to love my fat, real force would no longer be necessary.  I can easily see my chubby self pouting and insisting that I didn't want to get fatter, even as I obediently sat down in the feeding chair as ordered, offering no resistance as I was restrained in place, and opening my mouth wide for the next meal that would surely make me chubbier. 

    Although I obviously prefer the all-or-nothing route of ending up supersized once I started growing, I have thought of gaining in small amounts.  Trial or 'experimental' feeding, if you will, of maybe 20 or 40 lbs just to see what it was really like.  Or agreeing to grow one panty size larger.  That trial would have pros and cons.  It would give me a chance to see what gaining and feeling fatter and growing out of clothes was really like, though it wouldn't tell me what it would feel like to be supersized and live that way.  An extra couple dozen pounds is nothing like an extra couple hundred.  And if I did choose to lose that weight afterwards, I probably wouldn't be able to get back to where I started by the sheer nature of gaining, like a woman who can't regain her old figure after a pregnancy.  So a small, experimental gain might still have repercussions on my size, such as a plump belly and lovehandles I could never be rid of. And consider stretchmarks.  If I gained rapidly enough, I might have scars on my waistline that would always be there even if I lost the weight.  That can also be exciting, though, as much as it is worrying... how even a relatively small gain wouldn't be 'safe' and could still permanently change me even if I lost most of it.  There's also the chance that I might love it so much that I couldn't stop in spite of myself, and find that a simple trial gain had trapped me on the path to obesity.

    I'd like it if you kept telling me how I was going to keep getting bigger and I couldn't do anything about it, told me that I had no concept of how huge I'd become but that it would happen no matter what.  Make me know that with every pound I gained, I would never weigh less than that again in my life- I'd weigh more, but never less, and with every clothing size I outgrew, I'd never be small enough to fit into them again.  You could have me give away all my smaller clothes, since it would be pointless to hang on to them.  Then replace them with plus-size clothes and tell me that I was going to fill them up with fat.  Show me pictures of massive women you wanted me to be like, that you were going to turn me into one of them regardless of the consequences.  It's exciting to think that at some point most of my body will be made of fat.  Tell me that you're going to totally and permanently ruin my figure and destroy my self control and that I'm helpless to prevent it, that I'll, in fact, willingly submit to it.  I'd like it if you got off on hearing me complain about my weight, as if my whining about the fat you were packing onto me was music to your ears:  "Look at me, I'm too fat, I look like such a pig," I might say, and you might reply "Yes, you do look like a fat pig, but you're still nowhere near fat enough for me."  Make me accept that food and fat is my future, that I should just try to relax and let it happen, that the sooner I accept it the happier I'll be.  Help me become totally resigned to my fate.  Eventually, I'll be able to stop fighting it and get used to it.  I'll have no choice but to embrace the prospect of getting bigger and always remaining a very fat woman.

    My final weight is entirely up to you.  Again, the only the only hard limit is to stop my gain before my mobility becomes significantly compromised.  Of course, you're not obligated to keep fattening me until I'm ridiculously huge, but your goal will become my physical fate, even if it's more than I think I'd want either now or later on.  You'll be growing my body to conform to your preferences, not my own.  If you had originally told me your goal was to make me 350 pounds, but when I got that size you decided I still wasn't big enough and wanted me to be closer to 450, you would be free to keep fattening me until I was the right size for you- I'm not done gaining until you say I am.  If you think a proper sow's belly should rest on the floor when she's on all fours, then make mine grow until it does just that.  If you love it when a woman snacks constantly and never seems to stop eating, train me so that I habitually graze all day long.  Or if your ideal woman has a large stomach capacity and needs to eat a large amount to get full, or habitually overeats, stretch me until I can binge like you want me to.  If you want me to have a certain waist size, upper arm circumference, or anything like that, layer my body with fat until it reaches your preferred dimensions.  If you want my belly apron to hang near to my knees, make me gain until my belly is a swaying sack of fat.  If your favorite supersized model wears a 5X dress size, fatten me until that size fits me perfectly.  If you love the sight of stretchmarks, have me gain in such away that I grow them all over for you.  If you feel that I'm still more active than how you think an ideal fat woman should be, train me to be lazy or feed me until I'm so large I need help to get out of a low chair, if that's what you want.  If you had previously told me that you weren't interested in making me gain beyond 400, but then realized once I reached that size that I still didn't properly fill out a certain size of clothing, or my belly didn't rest on the floor like you wanted, or that my that my face wasn't round enough or my double chin wasn't fat enough, or you simply decided on a whim that 500 was a nicer number, then you could continue to feed me.  It doesn't matter what my size limits are, what my expectations are, or what weight I think would suit me best, even if it went against prior agreements.. my feeder's opinion as concerns my ultimate size is the only one that matters.  I want the amount of weight I gain to be completely beyond my control.  The bottom line is that I will have to live with whatever body my feeder chooses to give me.

    Of course, my feeder is free to take my preferences into consideration and work with them, disregard them completely, or even use them against me.  One thing I like to think about, for instance, is what it would be like having my walk reduced to a slow, plodding waddle.  Knowing this, my feeder could get me to beg to be waddle-sized, and hold me to it until it became reality, even if I discovered that waddle-size isn't wasn't all that pleasant and I wanted to change my mind.  Or, if I asked for a huge fat apron, not letting me stop gaining until I developed one, even if it meant the rest of me had to get far larger than I would have preferred.  My feeder might fulfill my wishes, even if it was by force by the end.  One must sometimes be careful what one wishes for.

    I need a determined feeder who won't get frustrated if I go through periods of slow growth.  I have no control over my metabolism or how quickly my body assimilates fat, so don't punish me if I'm not gaining fast enough.. it's not my fault.  Also, don't punish me if my weight fluctuates naturally, like if I lost a few pounds here and there or something.  In other words, don't get mad if the scale reads lower sometimes.  The point is to add permanent fat to me and ignore the minor fluctuations in my inexorable conversion to obese piggy.  You can punish me, though, if I attempt to diet, refuse to eat, exercise with the intent to lose weight, or intefere with fattening in any way.  Any of that would be me trying to regain control of my size, which is taboo.  Of course, you needn't go for world record gain speeds, either.  Too much too fast can be pretty dangerous.  As little as a couple of pounds a week would have me well into the supersized zone within a couple years.  There's no great rush.  Remember: unless you have me on a yo-yo diet, I can only gain all this weight once, so I might as well be able to savor it all.  But fast or slow, that's up to you.  And please don't order me to gain x number of pounds in a given week.. that'd be, in effect, giving me back control of my weight.  I want to have no control over my weight, even if the purpose is making myself gain.  If you want to try to put a certain number of pounds on me in a week, help me eat more or alter my diet or make my body more efficient at storing fat.  If I don't reach that goal, well, there's always next week.  And I'd need someone who had a respect for what my body can endure.  Don't be reckless and abuse the power you'd have over me.  For instance, just because you could make me 500+ without making me immediately immobile doesn't necessarily mean you should, not if my body just can't support it in the long run.  It's important not to let fantasy overcome pragmatism.  I need a feeder who can control their own urges and feed with some common sense.  Also, I need someone who won't get carried away and will understand physical limits, especially in the beginning.  You'll need to discern the difference between my saying I'm too full and can't eat another bite (but can), and me saying I can't eat anymore and it being true.  There's no way I'll be able to eat as much as a lifelong overeater can, not right away.  Don't force me too keep eating past my body's limits and end up with me getting ill and puking.. that would be neither pleasant nor productive.  You need to make me enjoy and anticipate total fullness, not fear it.  Reward me for being stuffed to groaning insensibility.  Be patient and slowly expand upon my physical limits until I'm able to eat (and eventually need to eat) as much as you think a fatslave should. 

    I would also need a feeder who understands the very real and serious consequences of their actions.  Someone who would understand that by fattening their feedee, they were moving her into a high health risk group.  A feeder would need to be informed about the problems I will face and be responsibly prepared for them as a possibility.  I'd need someone strong enough to cope with problems if they arose and not just abandon me at the first sign of trouble, right when I needed help the most.  That said, I would need someone who was aware of the dangers yet still willing to fatten me in spite of them.  They would have to knowingly put me at risk in order to achieve their goal, believing that making me obese outweighed the dangers I would have to face.  All decisions about my growth and the resulting increase of the risk I would be facing would be made for me.  For my part, I would have to accept that by surrendering control over my weight I might someday very possibly develop fat-related problems that I wouldn't be at risk of otherwise, and that my feeder would be consenting on my behalf for me to face those weight-related risks.  I might have some opinions on that matter, but the final decision would always be in the hands of my feeder.  I would have to go along with the decision, whatever it might be.. I couldn't refuse to gain on the grounds that it would be unhealthy for me.  I would accept that while my feeder had only the pleasure of fattening me, I would be the one to face the consequences of their feeding, whatever those might be.  I would agree to not blame my feeder if something happened, absolving my feeder of any guilt.  I would know that even though becoming supersized would likely be unhealthy, it would happen regardless and for my own good.

    I wouldn't mind a feeder who isn't necessarily looking for a sex-oriented relationship (of course, if that happens naturally, great), but mainly is obsessed with fat.. the look of it, the feel of it, the creating of more of it.  Someone for whom the act of feeding itself at least as exciting as sex, if not far more (and who wants me to come to feel the same way).  Someone who delights over the formation of each new roll and stretch mark, loves the sight of cheeks bulging with food, enjoys the moans of an overstuffed feedee.  Someone who is fascinated by the thought of pushing food in someone's mouth, penetrating them in a sense, and that by that simple act, changing the way the feedee's body is shaped forever.  We might agree on you using me sexually (I consent to your having control over my body, but not automatically in that way), or just keep it to a strictly feeding relationship.  To you, I may be little more than an object to encase in fat;  not interested in me as a partner but as a project.  I'm okay with that, as long as you're unrelenting and consistent.  I need someone who doesn't just enjoy fat women;  I need someone who loves the idea of the real-life transformation.. turning a skinny person into a fat one, making a normal person eat and gain weight, patiently watching them get fatter until their body is buried under heavy, quivering rolls of blubber- turning them into a different person in body, lifestyle, and mindset for the rest of their life.  Someone who doesn't just enjoy feeding someone and playing with the fat they've made, but takes pleasure the fatslave's growing limitations, the way their lifestyle changes as their fat takes over, and the idea of making someone become sloppy and piggish.  The transformation should be as pleasurable for you as the end result.  I don't want you getting bored halfway through the process, which could take years.. I want you to relish every pound and milestone on the road of my fattification, and I want you to make me enjoy it, too.

    As part of giving up control over my weight, I would naturally consent to have no control over what I ate.  Even if my feeder and I didn't have a total D/s relationship (total ownership) or even a sexual relationship, my feeder would have total control and free reign over one part of me--my mouth.  My mouth would effectively cease to belong to me.  It would become my feeder's property, since it's their access to my stomach and ultimately the key to my weight gain.  It would be as though I had a funnel permanently implanted between my lips, metaphorically speaking.  What sort of food or drink went into it, the quality or quantity, would no longer be my decision.  As though my mouth truly belonged to another person (i.e. belonged to my feeder's fantasy fat woman) and whatever it ate wasn't up to me, although I'd have the privilege of tasting it.  I would have to eat whatever I was told, even though I knew it was going to make me fatter, or even if I knew the purpose was to stretch my stomach and end up with me overeating even more in the future.  I'd have to just accept the bodily consequences of whatever my feeder did with my mouth.  I want to be trained to chew and swallow whatever food was placed in my mouth with total obedience and compliance, as though it was truly beyond my control, even if I didn't want to.  If I was angry, not hungry, or in a non-feeding mood, I would still have to open wide and eat and be unable to shut my mouth and refuse.  If my feeder wanted my mouth to eat like a good and eager feedee's would, no matter when or where, that's what it would do even if I didn't feel like an eager feedee at the time.  Whether it be healthy food or junk food or any other kind, everything I ate would be up to my feeder.  I would even have to eat things I didn't like (though not without bitching).  My feeder would decide what their pet mouth, the mouth that used to be mine, liked or didn't like.  They could decorate it as they chose, with lipstick, or piercings, or even collagen.  If my feeder decided the mouth belonged to a fat woman who loved fast food, then my diet would consist almost totally of fast food.  Even if they decided it belonged to a woman who was a heavy smoker or who drank a lot, then I'd find myself smoking or drinking more.  Absolute oral surrender.

    Hopefully, this lack of control would eventually be interalized, so that my appetite would take control over my mouth like a feeder on my shoulder, overriding my willpower and common sense (if I saw food that I knew my feeder would want me to eat, I'd just eat it without hesitation).  Perhaps my tastes could be changed to like things I didn't used to, increasing my gustatory range so that I would enjoy most anything, like a proper glutton.  At the moment I don't have a high tolerance of super-fat things like cream and such, it makes me kinda queasy.  A feeder might be able to change that so that I'll be able to digest very rich and high-fat foods with ease, if you wanted to see me eat those things.  Even if I was put on a high carb or an ultra-fatty diet designed to make me gain as fast as possible--or low protein to sap my energy to make me lazy--regardless of the consequences, I'd have to submit to it even if I knew it was bad for me in the long run.  I would have to trust my feeder to be sane and not completely disregard my safety in the course of utilizing the mouth that used to belong to me. 

    As a side note, I've thought a long term feeding might roughly have the following chain of events:
    --  Stretching of the stomach to have a larger capacity, increasing appetite, and adjusting to a fattier diet.
    --  Learning to enjoy overeating for its own sake, learning to love food, especially desserts.  Adjusting to laziness.
    --  Starting to gain fat steadily.  Becoming plump.  Developing an association of fattening = pleasure.
    --  Learning to love the feel of fat on myself and coming to look forward to getting more.
    --  Learning to enjoy fat humiliation and dependence on feeder. 
    --  Becoming obese.  Accepting that I will only ever continue to grow and never lose.  Learning to accept/anticipate possible disabilities and hardships.
    --  Acquiring habits the feeder likes and wants to make a part of me (appearance, behavior, clothing) / adjustment to new lifestyle.
    --  Becoming supersized.  Possibly developing fat related disabilities/health issues as fat takes over / learning to deal with them as a part of normal life. 
    --  Possible loss of self-pleasuring ability, replacing it with food.
    --  Continuing to grow until reaching the goal size, adjusting to life at that size.
    --  Going on to live the rest of my life as a hugely obese woman.

    A very important thing to me is the permanence of the transformation.  Even though the thought can be intimidating, I want the fat you put on me to stay on me.  I want to know that I'll stay fat long after the initial excitement wears off and being obese has become boringly normal for me.  If I have the ability to diet and lose weight, I might be tempted to diet just to make things easier, after all is said and done, or frequently worry about if I should.  If I lost weight to relieve some of the burden on me, then I would be disregarding the sacrifices I willingly made for the priviledge of being fat.  If I can't diet, then I won't have to worry about whether I ought to lose weight because it could never happen anyway.  If it's possible, I don't want to even be able to lose the weight even if left on my own, not without your express permission or assistance.  I'm not just consenting to giving you control of my weight in regards to growing me to a certain size, but control of my eating habits and, as a result, influence over how I will most likely look and weigh for the rest of my life.  If you liked me best at 450 pounds, and wanted me to stay that way, then 450 I would always remain (or thereabouts).  I don't want to finally become supersize, decide I don't like it, and then set about to losing it all.  Part of the urge is not just the transformation to obesity, but also the experience of always remaining that way and be just like any other fat woman who can't seem to lose the weight.  I don't want to prematurely cheat myself out of that experience by deciding to diet.  I want to have to grow old as the morbidly obese woman you turned me into.  I look forward to it, even.. getting ever more comfortable with soft heavy body over the years until I'm a sagging, shapeless, fat old woman who long ago lost any motivation or ability to lose weight.   I like the thought of always being at least the same dress size I was when I reached my goal weight, and certainly unable to fit into any of the clothes I grew out of on my way there.  You have a vision of how big I should be and how I should stay and I don't want to be able to tamper with it:  it's my duty and privilege as a fat slave to carry my fat through life.  That said, if my feeder got to me a certain goal, and decided to have me lose a little weight to perhaps make things easier for me in the long run, or for any other reason, that sort of thing would be okay since it wasn't up to me.  And if I decided to lose some of the weight on my own, I want my habits there as insurance that it wouldn't be easily done on a whim, if it could be done at all. 

    Make dieting virtually impossible for me.  I'm not a big eater right now, ironically, I often go hungry.  One of the differences between me and most people who are naturally supersized is that people who are already that size love food and love to eat (and it shows on their waistline).  I enjoy tasty food but I don't love it.  I want to learn to love it.  I want to acquire those eating habits and love of food that made other people supersized to begin with.  I need you to expand my stomach to a large capacity so that I need to eat a lot to feel satisfied or graze all day long without ever really feeling full.  I love the idea of being frequently forced to not just indulge in delicious, fattening things, but forced to overindulge in them until the overindulgence becomes habitual and eating to excess is a goal in and of itself.  Induced gluttony.  Make me so that I can't stand hunger pangs.  Make sure that you have so totally ruined my self-control and made such a glutton of me that that I'll panic at the thought of not having food nearby.  Make eating my most pleasurable activity, better than sex, so that my thoughts are always on my next meal.  Totally destroy my willpower and self-control when it comes to trying to deny myself food.  I want to be unable to leave any food on my plate, even pathetically licking the plates clean and eating every crumb.  You could compel me to keep eating whatever is in front of me until I can't take another bite, or make me graze constantly until that behavior is so engrained that I'll automatically do it without thinking;  if something is edible and within reach, it'll soon end up in my stomach without me hardly noticing.  Also, I've never been a big eater of sweets, so I'd like you to make me addicted to fattening cakes, candies, and desserts.  Leave me without any portion control so that every small craving ends up as a binge-eating session.. like getting a craving for perhaps a simple slice of cheesecake and end up eating the whole cake.  It'd be so cool to eventually zone out while binging, not even being aware of how much I was eating until I came to, totally bloated and surrounded by empty plates and wrappers. 

    I like the idea of habitual overeating or food addiction being engrained so deeply in me that it would be just as hard (or harder) for me to overcome them as it would be for an (normal, non-feedee) overeater who had those traits normally.  I like it because if I acquired those habits then I would naturally, helplessly gain even in the absence of a feeder, just like anybody else who unintentionally became obese on their own due to their uncontrollable appetite.  It's very difficult for many people who are already obese to lose weight and stop yo-yo-ing because they have to retrain their basic nature and overcome their food-love to do so.  I want to be the same as them and have that same difficulty and sense of helplessness.  I can imagine a clever feeder crystalizing those habits and food addiction in me and stretching my stomach even before setting about to make me seriously gain.. that way if I decided to stop the feeding even while I was still relatively small, I would still find myself stuck with the same overeating habits that made naturally huge people that size to begin with.  Thus, even if I left my feeder and took control over my size away from their direct influence, it would still remain beyond my own control.  As a consequence of the habits I had been given, I would have no choice but to keep gaining on my own.  Although it would happen much more slowly than with active feeding, my feeder would have the satisfaction of knowing my new food addiction and appetite would inevitably cause me to feed myself to obesity whether I wanted it or not. 

    You could make me habitually lazy so that I won't be willing to exercise, or at least not enough to actually cause weight loss (exercising only as necessary to maintain a level of health or mobility).  I love the idea of being forbidden to exercise and forced to get out of shape.  Such as having all exercise-like activities off limits, even having recreational walks limited to a short distance, and restricted to only sedentary activities.  I wouldn't be allowed to lose any precious calories that could be used for making more fat.  Tell me it's good for me to be lazy.  Time would pass and I would grow increasingly physically unfit even while I kept getting fatter.  I would have to comply, even knowing that I would eventually get so out of shape that simple activities would become exhausting, my movements becoming more sluggish.  I would get used to being so lazy and free of the responsibility to stay in shape.  Most importantly, the longer I stayed like that, the more insurmountably difficult getting back into shape enough to simply exercise effectively would be.  Reinforce the lazy lifestyle you'll give me so that I'll lose all motivation to attempt to live any other way.  Warn me that I had gotten so unfit that I might risk a heart attack just trying to exercise, so that it would be healthiest for me to stay as lazy as possible.  Make me so that I'll spend most of the rest of life off of my feet and sitting around while my butt spreads wider and wider across the sofa.

    I need to be made to believe that losing my fat is the biggest offense I, a fatslave, could commit in my life.  Make me unwilling to even consider weight loss surgery as an option, and have me repeatedly vow never to get it no matter what.  Make me love my fat so much more than anything else that I wouldn't dream of intentionally losing any of the precious lard.  I love the idea of having so many redudant 'weight-loss barriers' implanted in me over time--being fat, laziness, over-eating, food addiction, fattening habits, psychological conditioning, fat-lust--that ending up fat and remaining fat would be utterly unavoidable.  How even if I overcame one or two of the issues, the others would see to it that I became massively overweight.  I want to end up trapped within my luscious fat as completely as possible.  It's a lovely thought that after I had given up control over my size, it would end up staying out of my hands forever.  I would never be able to reclaim it no matter how hard I tried, even without a feeder present;  I would be left without the willpower, desire, or self-discipline to regain any control.  I could watch the digits on the scale move up or down, but I would have no influence on that at all.  The number on the scale--as well as my dress size--would only change due to the whims of my appetite.   

    The reason why the permanence is is important is because it is unlikely that our relationship will last forever.  It's possible that after I reach your goal and you're satisfied that I'll stay that way, you'll move on to fatten someone else.  Maybe not, but possibly.  If we do part ways, I want you to have made me so that you can rest assured that I won't be able to undo your handiwork, that I can never commit the sin of reclaiming what I sacrificed so much for by losing weight.  Or if I decided I had enough and left prior to reaching your goal, if my habits had been altered enough I'd still not be able to effectively lose weight.  I might even continue to helplessly gain on my own because of the changes and end up at (or beyond) your goal anyway.  I want to end up physically and mentally unable to turn myself into something other than what you have turned me into.  Even years later, if you make me unable to diet, you'll know that I'll still be carrying around the fat you gave me-- a waddling, jiggling testament of my submission to your feeding and to being a fatslave.  Don't you think that's a wonderful image?  If anything, I'll likely continue to get fatter throughout my life.  No matter where you are or what you're doing, you'll know that I'll still be helplessly shoving food into my fat face and blissfully rubbing my belly.  You'll know that I'll have been trained to subconsciously sabotage any attempts on my own to lose weight, and will spend the rest of my life as the sedentary piggy you turned me into.  Even if I ended up not liking being fat as much as I thought I would, I'd have to stay fat anyway.  Just be aware that once I reach your goal, it will be your responsibility to alter my eating habits enough so that I stabilize at that size, otherwise I might not be able to ever make myself stop gaining. 

    And what happens after the feeding?  After I become supersized and reach my feeder's goal and either didn't have to--or wasn't able to--gain further, what then?  Hopefully, I would have been rendered unable to change anything, so I would never again give any serious thought to dieting or weight control again.  My transformation would no longer be a fantasy, but a day-to-day reality.  I'd be the real me, for all the world to see, and I would have to come to terms with it.  Having a huge, hanging apron of fat would eventually become no more out of the ordinary to me than having a flat tummy is now.  The person I was would be a distant memory.  It would be as if I had never been anything other than an obese food addict.  I suppose I would just settle down, go on with my daily concerns, eat whatever I wanted, and grow old as a content fatty.  While the actual feeding would end after I reached a certain size goal, the whole experience of the path I had taken would last for the rest of my life.  Thusly, the experience of being a feedee and fatslave wouldn't really be complete until I had gotten fat, lived the rest of my life, and eventually died as a supersize person.

    My feeder might lose interest in being with me after I reached my goal, but might enjoy feeding me long distance.  If I was already hopelessly fat, I could have no objections to self-feeding online if we remained on good terms.  For years they could reinforce the changes they had made to me long-distance.  Using a webcam, they could have me weigh and measure myself to show that I was staying at the proper proportions or that I still wore the clothes or lived the lifestyle they liked, or prove that I was still single and devoted to food.  I like that idea.  If I disobeyed, I would be completely alone, and isolation would quickly drive me to repent and punish myself to get back in my feeder's graces. 

    My feeder might decide at some point, even years later, that I needed to be fatter, perhaps as just slow gain over time.  I would still have no control over my weight and to keep my feeder happy I would have to show the rising numbers on the scale.  I can imagine having to slowly continue to fatten up by my own hand from my feeder's will, slowly but surely growing out of my old clothes.  The gain might not be fast- deceptively small amounts- but over the years it would add up.  Just a couple of pounds a month for 5 years would result in over 100 pounds, and that's a lot if you're already supersized.  Hopefully, in such a situation, my feeder would allow for gains and losses.. gaining 20 then losing 15 or something, a perpetual yo-yo diet, with small net gains but resulting in me staying mostly the same, perhaps ending up a little bit fatter than the year before, so that I didn't really risk becoming immobile.  That might be okay.   

    When I give over control of my size, I want to never reclaim that control ever again.  Even though I couldn't keep gaining nonstop for the rest of my life without compromising my health and mobility, that wouldn't mean I had any control over my weight.  If I hovered around 450 pounds, say, it wouldn't be because that's where I wanted to be;  it would be because that's where my feeder decided I should stay.  It might not be possible, but it's my dream that (as long as we remained on good terms) my feeder would retain their control for the rest of my life.  It's such a comforting thought that the numbers on the scale would be forever beyond my control and that my mouth would never again belong entirely to me.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1