I've always known that only someone like you, a true feeder, could understand the thrill I feel at the thought of growing fatter by the day. While most women obsess over staying slim, I crave the opposite—the feeling of my body ballooning, layer after soft layer of fat spreading over me until every inch is heavy with lard. I want to be huge and heavy, unmistakably fat, my body becoming a testament to gluttony. It’s not just about the weight; it’s about the way I feel myself getting bigger, softer, fuller, and yes, one day, blissfully useless under all that heaviness.

I've always known that only someone like you, a true feeder, could understand the thrill I feel at the thought of growing fatter by the day. While most women obsess over staying slim, I crave the opposite—the feeling of my body ballooning, layer after soft layer of fat spreading over me until every inch is heavy with lard. I want to be huge and heavy, unmistakably fat, my body becoming a testament to gluttony. It’s not just about the weight; it’s about the way I feel myself getting bigger, softer, fuller, and yes, one day, blissfully useless under all that heaviness.