

I want you so fat that you can’t even take care of your own needs anymore. Imagine it—your gut so massive, your fat pad so heavy, that you can’t even reach your own manhood. Just a big, useless blob of lard, struggling under the sheer weight of your own gluttony. Every inch of you is swollen, soft, and helpless, completely dependent on me because you’ve grown too big and too heavy to manage even the most basic of actions. That’s what I want for you. To turn you into nothing more than an overfed, ever-growing mass of fat; a human lard storage tank. And trust me, pig—I’ll make sure you get there.