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  1. Past hour
  2. Omfg. This clip came out better than I ever could have imagined. The first gif is glimpse of the thin footage, and the second is at the end of the stuffing where I have a picture in picture comparison of even more thin footage  💦
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  3. Super chubs!

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  4. NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW

     

     

  5.  what should i eat? i’m starving 

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    1. fattony20

      fattony20

      Pizza? That's what I'm craving 🍕🍕

    2. Supper1
  6. Please tell me this is a morph. Bro she looks banging and HUGE!
  7. she really likes all the nice things you guys have said about her 😊 here’s some lingerie pics, it’s definitely got a bit tighter lately! Plus a bonus swimsuit pic 🥵 hope you guys enjoy!
  8. thank you and oh yes, i hope so as well...but atm she is always hungry and eating whatever she wants.
  9. 10:59 am, 19th February, 2017 A.D. My footsteps were calm, measured, and purposeful. For a girl of my size, they had to be. A black duvet helped preserved my modesty. I’d folded it under my arm, over my breasts, across a shoulder and round my waist, like a toga. The folds of my flab kept it pinned in place, freeing a hand to carry my backpack, and open my bedroom door. A sweet smell drifted from the kitchen stove. I closed on where Phil was making his supper, chafing and bulging, hyper aware of the space I was taking up. I breathed in. For once, this time, it wasn’t all about me. “That’s not a face I’ve seen these past nineteen days,” he shouted over the extractor fan. “Pleased you could join me for Spring, Madam.” “Mephistophilus,” I said, getting my breath back. His pointy ears pricked. “And that’s not a name I’ve heard these past nineteenth months,” he balked, applying his monocle. “Either you’re possessed, or you want something very dear from me. What is it to be, Madam?” “Yeah,” I twisted the ring on my little finger; the only one skinny enough for it to fit around. “I wanted to apologise.” The demon stopped flapping his wings. He perched on the tabletop, giving me a puzzled glare. “Trapping you in a student house wasn’t cool,” I said, in a low voice. “I know what you use to have – going from that to this... it must have felt like a bit of a comedown.” He blinked, slowly. His forked tongue rested in his open mouth. “Because....I know what comedowns feel like, now,” I murmured, gripping a glob of my bulging stomach through the sheets. “I...errr...” I let go, letting the flesh wobble heavily. “I’m sorry for making you my bitch. You didn’t deserve that. You can leave, if you want... I ripped up your contract.” I swore I could see his horns light up. “Yeah, you’re free now,” I told him, shrugging. “Enjoy. You don’t have to suffer with – I mean – stick around with me any more...” I turned my feet inwardly. My ex-butler slipped into his disguise, and donned a tiny top hat. “This...is certainly a magnanimous gesture.” He jumped down, clicking his heels. “But, believe it or not, there’s something more powerful than a contract, in the demon world.” Mephistophilus took my soft hand in his. “It’s a creed. And mine is to never to leave something in a poorer state than what you found it in.” He looked me in the eye. “You and I have not been kind to each other.” He bowed his head. “But you have done me a great service this day, Kirsten Dwight. Was there anything I can do for you, before I leave?” I bit my lip. I looked over my shoulder, once, twice. Then to the window. Then to my bedroom behind me. My ornamental skull glowed yellowy on my chest of drawers. I turned back to my demon acquaintance. “There’s four things I need.” I whispered lowly. “Or five, depending on how you count them.” I could sense Poly watching, smiling. “A needle and thread,” I listed. “Some baking foil,” I breathed slowly. “The biggest pack of fudge you can find...” I unhitched my backpack. “...and an onion.” 8th Turn of the Hourglass, 71st Baaluary, 8052. Eclairs again. Puff pastry. Icing and cream. My mouth watered. My cheeks surged. I pried them off the plate, one by one, sinking them into my wide face, barely giving myself room to breathe. The cookies were next. My belt crunched, the buckle breaking some more as I rolled over it, heaving my belly further over the table. My poor muscles shuddered, sore from supporting so much useless mass. I gasped, finally pulling the bowl to my sweat-moistened chest. I ate sloppily, noisily, blissfully. I let my roll blossom out of the rip in my dress, flesh clamoring to be free from the warmth. I cooled myself with ice cream, scooping it up with my hands. Milky goodness ran in rivulets past my lips. I lapped it up, sweeping up a spoon to stop the pearly drips striking the mahogany. I wanted every last drop. “Enjoying breakfast?” said Gluttony, appearing behind me out of nowhere. “Mmppphhh!” I yelled, cheeks filled with chocolate. I widened my eyes in shock. I tried to twist my head, but when it wasn’t enough, I rolled – slowly, pitifully – to face him from below. My loose blonde locks crested around me. “Clearly,” he muttered. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon, Kirsten. If I was, I’d certainly have laid out a bigger spread...” “I can’t take it anymore!” I choked up, slapping my hands on the table. The sinful platters of trifle tremored as I ditched my spoon, reaching above my head for a globby, quivering fistful. “I’m so full of food,” I sobbed, clutching my heaving gut. “It’s...it’s all I dream about...” I plunged my face into the tumulus of custard and cream, flat on my back, moaning and slurping. I practically felt his clawed toes curl up in his slippers. He took a step toward me with baited breath, swamping me in his shadow. His fat hand settled on my love handle as he whispered in my ear. “I do have...rather a certain appeal, don’t I?” he leered. His pink faced contorted, hideously. I closed my eyes. I licked every one of my fingers, shivering. “I’m four hundred pounds already,” I whimpered. It was no word of a lie. “I can’t stop getting bigger. I feel like I’m going to explode.” “No, no, no,” he shook his jostling chins. “Kirsten, this is only the beginning. You’ve got so much growing left to do,” He snaked his wrists round where my waist used to be, planting his palms on my belly. I cringed at his touch. “Don’t you want to live to your full potential?” he cooed. “Just...just take me,” I begged. “Please...” “Pardon?” “I give up,” I coughed, wobbling my lip. My eyelashes were moist. I reached for some more pumpkin pie, feeling my stomach bunch into rolls as I twisted onto my side. “I can’t think for myself anymore,” I cried, struggling myself back up while I stuffed in a bite. “Mmppphh... I don’t wanna go back to the surface... oh, I’m so fat...” I hoisted my muumuu. His eyes lit up at the sight of my blossoming, burgeoning hips, rubbed red by the tightness of the tube of light, suspended in the air above the pile of wineskins. “I could barely fit through,” I blubbered, tears flowing freely down my doughy face. “I don’t know if I can make it back up. I...I think I’m stuck here. Forever.” Gluttony curled his lip, marshalling his sickly smile. He took my hand, and with a surprising amount of power, pulled me over to the table’s edge. He swung me round, letting my feet press onto the floor again. “Get on one knee,” he ordered me. “O-oh...” I whimpered. I held my arms out straight, slowly dropping to the floor. “Urgg...ufff...” I puffed, struggling to keep myself steady. My belly cascaded off my bent leg, grumbling and groaning. I steadied myself on the woodwork with a quivering arm, looking at the demon through a shock of sweaty hair. “Sign it,” he said, conjuring an inky quill from thin air. I took it in my shivering fingers, adjusting my shaky balance. A scroll materialised next to me; the titles written in blood. I glimpsed through lines of an ancient language, settling my stare on the empty space at the bottom, marked with a cross. “Sign!” he barked. I traced the quill to the page. I took a deep breath. Kirsten... I wrote, slowly, flinching. Dwight... I struck through the letters, adding a crescent moon. At once, the quill crumbled into dust. The scroll was left in my hands, glowing. The ghostly tether rippled, pulling into a knot. I felt my body waver. My chest began to grow tight. My stomach gave its greatest growl yet. My last hopes shrivelled and died. I bit my plump lip, tearing up as I felt my spirits sink into the darkness. “Yes...” Gluttony shouted. “Yes, yes...YES!” he screamed out loud. “AHAHAHA!” He raised his flabby arms to the jagged ceiling, splaying his wings triumphantly, cackling, gurgling, booming with laughter. “Taeotevil!” A thick fist pummelled the demon lord’s door knocker. “Answer me, you foul worm! Accept my entrance or be damned!” “W-what?” Gluttony flung his dumbstruck features to the doorway. “Who?” “Raaaaargghh!” A ferocious kick sent the door flying off its hinges. A chilling shadow erupted from the dust, muscle-bound from his wide shoulders to his stomping feet, coated in battered armor laden with trophies of war. Two razor sharp horns rose from his charred skull, and his eyes – two blistering blocks of pumice - narrowed in on me. “Treacherous wench!” he bellowed, tensing his pulsing veins. “Kirsten of Dwight, you dare renege on a bargain with Brackaddan, Lord of Wrath?” “What in seven hells are you doing here?” snapped Gluttony, pivoting. “Get out! You’re in the wrong castle!” His stumpy toes trembled as a stained-glass window shattered to pieces in the dining hall. Two spiky tentacles burst through, leeching and probing the leftover food. I got off my knee, watching as a demon with five eyes and forty slobbering mouths slithered through the gap. “Clinngold?” the demon balked. “Not you too?!” The Lord of Avarice sloughed off the table, crunching the chairs. The mouths snapped and swallowed, and spoke in unison. “Gluttony, my eternal nemesis,” he hissed. “I sensed you stealing her soul from ninety leagues away. I should’ve known you’d want to stick a finger into the pie.” “Ahem,” The voice came from the fireplace, light and effeminate. “If we’re talking about sticking fingers anywhere, the buck stops with me,” A puff of soot tumbled from the chimney, clearing to reveal a slender, burgundy figure wrapped in jewels and silks. “Put your swords back where they came from,” he commanded. “I have a contract, signed and sealed, pledging your beloved Kirsten to me, the Lord of Lust.” “But I’ve got one of those too.” Putrid black shadows manifested on the futon. The air grew warm and thick as they waved hazily into the shape of a hideous slug, unwinding a long, lank tail. “What’s the problem Lefhancoc? I thought I was claiming her later. Do we have to fight about it?” Sludooze, the Lord of Sloth, yawned. “What...” Gluttony turned to me, rage in his eyes. “...is the meaning of all of this?” “Dunno,” I smirked, patting my bulging stomach. “Can I offer anyone an onion?” I wiped the last tears off my cheeks, the split halves of the smelly vegetable lingering in my beckoning palm. The demon lord’s face turned ashen. “You...” he garbled. “You’ve...” “Silence, pithy fools!” The chandelier rattled on the ceiling, the candle wicks lighting in a rolling spiral, printing the shadow of a portal on the tabletop just as I plucked an apple away from the fruit bowl. The lines glistened and glowed as Aashaqua, Lord of Pride, rose from the centre. “Leave your thinking to abandon!” He leapt off the mahogany, planting his bejewelled staff. “You see, this was all part of a masterful plan. My masterful plan. To bind Kirsten’s soul to my worthy cause, and lead her to glory from your mediocrity!” “Pish! She told me the same thing in my salon this very morn!” Lust protested. “And in my chambers of pain last twilight!” shouted Wrath. “Yeah, I like to shop around,” I said, squeezing the soft fruit and taking a bite. I leant my weight against a buttress pillar, twirling my loose hair. “Hmm...mmmpphh...some really tempting offers in those contracts. It’s hard to choose...” “You sold your soul...to all of us?” Avarice balked. “I’m a harlot,” I shrugged, smirking. “What can I say?” “Impossible!” He bore his myriads of teeth. “No contract of mine can be subsumed!” “Yes, yes but remember, I was first anyway,” said Pride. “She signed my contract yesterday. Finders keepers, I’m sure you’ll agree.” “Nonsense. We all have a claim - I say we fight for the prize!” boomed Wrath. “Survival of the fittest!” “Unnff...” I jiggled my massive stomach. “Err, count me out...” “Ditto,” said Sloth. “Then how about we split her up?” Avarice growled. “Into six little pieces!” “What would you know about sharing fairly?” said Lust. “Regardless, the last I heard, her and I were exclusive.” “Half a soul’s no good to me,” piped up Pride. “Let alone a sixth.” “Ermm? Hello? Excuse me?” said Gluttony, banging a ** and pan together. “Have you bastards all forgotten I exist? Me? The one who’s piece de resistance you thought it fit to crash in on?” He lobbed his crockery into the fireplace, indignant. “This one’s mine. I mean, look at her,” He stuck out a sausage finger at me. “Look at the bloody size of her – she's huge!” “Sheesh,” I mumbled, chucking the apple core over my shoulder into the fireplace, waddling back for a bowl of stew. “What a charmer you are.” “Oh, will you SHUT UP!” he screamed. “I don’t know, let’s sit around the fire, chew the fat, wonder who you really belong to!” He slapped his thigh, looking his fellows in the eyes. “Isn’t it bleeding well obvious? She’s mine, mine, MINE. And I don’t give a damn what order she wound you all up in, I was the one who cursed her first!” “Huh?” mumbled Sloth. “Say what now?” Hell’s Dining Hall fell quiet. For the first time, Gluttony shut his mouth. I smiled. “You...cursed a living human being?” said Wrath. The stones smouldered in his eyes. “On whose authority?” “I - I did it for your own protection!” Gluttony blathered. “She’s...she’s a demonology student! I couldn’t allow her to roam free, she’s a threat to us!” “A threat that you never hastened to warn us about...” Avarice noted. Gluttony began to pale. I winked at him, sipping the succulent gravy. “You know, TaeoteviI, I think I’ve seen reason to suspect your credentials in the pursuit of happiness for our kind.” said Lust, slowly. “Yeah,” said Sloth, raising an arm. “What he said!” “You’ve harboured an enemy of our infernal regime, let her feast on your food, sup on your wine. And there’s no doubt you’ve spilled many of our arcane secrets in her ear, willingly or otherwise...” “But...but...” Gluttony flapped his outstretched hand. “You can’t! You can’t fall for this! It’s a trick! Can’t you see what she’s doing to you? She’s evil!” “Mate,” Sloth slurred. “If she’s evil... then what are you supposed to be?” I’d never seen a demon go white before. I drained the last of the bowl, slurping. This sure was one for my next class project. “Well,” Pride raised his eyebrows. “If there’s one thing we can all agree on, it’s that we can’t let this mole burrow any further than she already has,” He sidestepped on the table. “I propose that we revoke Gluttony’s curse. Withhold the descent of her soul into the flames, so that we might figure out what to do with her first.” “Aye,” said Avarice. “Seconded,” said Lust. “Finally, something we agree on,” Wrath cracked the knuckles of his fist. “You’re all fools,” Gluttony contorted his lips. “Don’t you know what powers you’d have to manifest to undo all of my designs? What unholy union of forces you’d have to conjure?” “The five of us as one, methinks?” said Avarice. “Indeed,” said Lust. “Why do you think they call it a pentagram?” He folded his arms. In a flurry his silks whipped free, flapping as they crossed the hall, wrapping tightly around Gluttony’s tiny legs. His bulk unsteadied, the bloated lord yelped and toppled, scrabbling uselessly on the stonework. Wrath pressed a foot on his wobbling jowls, holding him silent and still. “I believe I’m the best at drawing, if you’d allow me to do the honours,” said Pride, snapping his fingers. Black tongues of flame burned a five-pointed star into the ground, with a hapless Gluttony at its centre, quaking in fear. The five took their places, crossing a circle of frothing blood. Gingerly taking one last chocolate éclair off the dining table, I backed into the wall of ovens, opening my backpack, glancing over my shoulder one more time to check that no-one was looking my way... Immersed in their incantations, the circlet of lords closed their eyes, channelling murky forces through their cloven hooves. The ground between them grew cold, and icy. “Ohhh...” I sighed. I felt the otherworldly tether unwrap from my midriff. Across the hall, Gluttony’s skin had faded from churlish pink to starving grey. His shouts reduced to pleas, then weakening cries for mercy. A wispy essence escaped from his belly button, like hot air racing from a puncture. Silvery and bright, the cloud dashed in a vibrant stream to my nose. I inhaled, gladly and blissfully, as the pit in my stomach finally started to rise. Gluttony choked, weakened and withered, while I bent forward, hands on my knees, sucking in sweet, sulfur-ridden air. “Thanks guys,” I said woozily, setting down the half-eaten éclair by the knife block. “Knew you’d turn from the dark side.” I winked. My heart warmed, and I felt happy memories return to me at last. “You’re welcome,” yawned Sloth. “Zip it!” snapped Lust. “That was the last respite you’ll receive. Now you shall face eternal judgement on the manner of your damnation!” “Let’s not be hasty,” said Pride. “Eternity can wait. We’ve each been slighted by her dealings. I say we each deserve a turn at exacting our own style of vengeance!” “Tear her apart!” yelled Wrath. “No - squeeze her for answers!” said Avarice. “Uhhh... guys?” Sloth roused from the futon, sniffing the air. “Something smell like it’s burning to you?” I scooched my wide ass away from the oven. A slither of grey smoke permeated the haze of the seven chandeliers above the dining table. Avarice flicked his eyes around the room. Gluttony mumbled a word, his voice muffled by Wrath’s leathery sole. “It’s coming from...the kitchen,” said Lust, sniffing. “Smells like burning wood.” “Not wood,” Pride crinkled his nose. “Paper.” “Oh, not just any paper,” I announced. “Faux-parchment, made from the finest Manila hemp...” Gluttony howled. Wrath blinked in bewilderment. I tiptoed toward the dining table. “The contracts!” Pride thundered, shooting to the oven doors in a flash, peering along the handles. “Cerberus’ slobber, they’re on fire!” He wrenched open the door. A noxious cloud of fumes leaked out, swamping him in bitter blackness. He howled, bright blue eyes awash with dirt and cinders. “Save mine! SAVE MINE!” Wrath stormed toward him, whirling the smoke, Avarice hot on his heels. Lust leapt onto the countertop. Even Sloth slithered into the melee, acid leaking from his trail. Someone stomped a foot on a tentacle, trying to quash the flames. The first punch chipped a spiky tooth, the second rollicked flesh and bone. I belly-flopped onto the table, twisting my legs, finding a knee, then rising to my feet above the growing cloud. The smoke flourished, until all I could see was infuriated fists, coiled tentacles, bent horns and smatterings of spittle. Coughs and curses ricocheted through the air. “Guys, hook me up!” I yelled, lifting my backpack. I clasped my hands, praying my needlework was worth the days I hadn’t skipped in high school fashion design class. The fishing hook swung down from the pulsating portal above the table. I caught it from my tiptoes, lodged it under the handle of the bag, and gave it two sharp tugs. The line went taut. I tightened the straps over my thick arms, clutching my palms together, almost in prayer. I winced, closing my eyes. This was going to hurt. I tugged one last time. The reinforced loops dug into my flab, while down below, I slowly felt my heels lift off the ground. I grit my teeth, pulling upward as hard as I could, trying to spare myself the ache. Inch by inch, I rose higher and higher. The smokescreen faded from black to grey. The colours of my garish muumuu began to filter through again – stretched flowers on weakened threads, blue, yellow and white. “There!” Avarice howled. “There she is! Get her! GET HER!” Wrath stormed over the benches and set on the cotton with razor-like claws, ripping and tearing. In seconds my dress was in shreds. “What?” he shrieked, staring the suckling pig in the face. My dress faltered in his rigid fingers, the red apple rolling free to his feet as he yanked the hem, tugging on the roast I’d manage to sandwich inside. He looked too late. Fifteen feet above, my plump calves and trusty sneakers disappeared into the golden beams. A soft pop and a crackle echoed through the dining hall, as the portal evaporated out of existence.
    Well, what got we here? Anna delivers a delicious clip about one of the most appealing fantasies in the FA’s world: the fattening of your co-worker. As such, the subject has many attractions of its own: the seduction of the “healthy eating girl” turned into a gluttonous hog, the way the straight dress for the office accentuate curves and bulges, and last but not least the frequent opportunities of body contact in the narrow spaces of the office. You will find all these features in Anna’s clip. But she is the real deal so she knows how to give that extra mile. In the first place, it is one of the few occasions that we can see her dressed up in “real clothes” (that is to say, a work outfit). And she looks so perfect and gorgeous: she overflows the clothes and the garments are about to explode. The sole image of her beautiful deep dark eyes, the white skin without blemishes, and the fattened body are worth every cent you spend in this clip. Secondly, Anna’s natural charming is a plus. The bouncing, the jiggling, the waddling are already there. But she has the strange ability to carry “voice” to her blimping flesh. It is almost cartoonish, as is you were hearing “boing – boing” each time she walks. I am already looking forward to her next clip.
  10. Good evening, my dears!  Come and see my profile, I'm a new Curvage model!  Hope you like it!

     

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  11. ooh yay love it Do you enjoy showing your belly in public? Like, wearing tshirts or tops that doesn't cover your belly. love it. i am totally shameless. i will walk around with my belly out all the time. i dont care who's watching, or hating. i'm feelin myself! Would you get turned on if others commented to you that you are getting fat? haha for sure, and i'm so proud of it. if someone said something honestly i wouldn't know what to say. because i'd want to say "wow thank you" lol. they'd be so confused Would you say that your sex life has changed/improved since you embraced the fetish and started gaining? for sure. my bf and i have always had good sex 😏 but, adding this element into it is amazing. i love the feeling of him grabbing hold of my belly as we fuck. and i love turning him on in so many ways that are feederism related. the only thing is i get exhausted so quick. i'm a lot to hold up and move around. Would you consider filming content with other curvage models? maybe in the future, but not right now Have you ever use weight gain powder (like the one that use bodybuilders, etc) to enhace your gain? if not, have you ever consider? yesss of course i do, i use serious mass gainer or something like that? that was fun, thanks! 🥰
  12. so nice to wiggle all that fat. super💋
  13. After working all week I just want to reward myself with a weekend at bed eating until I'm stuffed 🐽

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  14. So sad my burgers are 45 minutes late already. I just want to eat goddamn it 😭😰

  15. Thank you so much!!! As good of a job as I feel like I can do posing my body, it is really hard for me to do a natural looking smile in a photograph. I have to practice!!!
  16. That is one of the best compliments!!! Thank you so much!!!
  17. NEW NEW NEW 

     

     

  18. Today
  19. I bought a new dress. Do yall think it fits? 🤔🤭

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    1. Supper1

      Supper1

      I think it does🥵

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