Content Notification: Kink (fat, weight gain, feederism, immobility with assistance, loving teasing, heavy slob, musk, sweat, some urine), sex, dairy, meat, mention of tobacco

The rise and fall of the bedbound, blue and white, albeit sweat stained, fox’s mountain of belly fat was paired with the sound of their labored breaths. The sheer weight of their body was holding them against the cheap, preinstalled bed, which had long since broken under them. They just cozily stare at the TV mounted to the wall of their spouse’s caravan, which was almost always their only source of illumination. Their hair, styled to have all the length on their left side, was completely covering up their eye, and it’s obviously had just as many years without any kind of bath as her body. It’s now down to her chest, not having been cut in at least a year, which just ends up coating it in even more sweat and leftover grease.

Greasy, sticky paws hold her bong and lighter as the base of the glass pipe rests on top of their gut, and squishes between the breast fat gained from years of fast food binging. A blush grows heavier on their face as they look down at their body while flicking the lighter and breathing in the flood of cannabinoids. The only thought running through their mind is that their habits gave them the body of their dreams. They couldn’t imagine their life being anything else but this: fattened to the point of it being noteworthy and doted on by their loving spouse and owner. Just spending all their time high, overfed, and unable to fit through the door of the caravan, let alone getting up from bed; their only other wants being to enjoy the comforts of a screen. They run their paw down as much of their massive body as they can, feeling the hundreds of pounds of fat just left to layer and accumulate underneath their damp, dripping fur. They could feel their cock begin to leak more in response, trying to throb while buried under the sheer mass of fox fat they ate onto themself. A little whimper escapes their muzzle, so desperate for their spouse to get back from shopping to help them empty their fat-engulfed balls. They stopped being able to reach years ago.

–

A truck pulls beside the caravan. A tall, brown and cream demon dog pulls himself out of the seat and up to the door, letting himself in with plastic grocery bags of food and a paper pickup bag from a cheeseburger place in his paws. Anyone would describe him as fat, especially with the belly hanging out from his open leather jacket, but that’s not the best descriptor for someone who has a wife weighing well over 800 pounds. Only one of them ever turned heads, and it wasn’t him.

His glowing red eyes immediately go to his wife as he wades through the sea of empty cans, fast food bags, bottles, and wrappers littering the floor, making his way over to the bed. He coos, “How’s my beautiful lardgut of a wife doing? Hungry I bet. You would be. I got you your usual pile of gas station food, and all of it’s gonna end up stretching out that buried stomach of yours for every meal.” The fox blushes harder as a whimper melts from their muzzle, the comforting, lingering scent of their spouse’s cigarettes hitting their nose. He sets down the bags of fattening food as he sits on a chair next to their bed, making sure to move their bong somewhere it wouldn’t get broken, then dives a paw into his wife’s ocean of belly fat. He stares with so much love at the fox he married, claimed the soul of, and fattened up to an unbelievable size, his muzzle sinking into the side of her neck fat. He grins as he says, “I bet you can’t even smell how bad you reek anymore. It’s so jarring when I come back home, but it’s just normal for you now, isn’t it, beautiful?~“ He continues with more of a growl, “My fox is gonna end up so much fatter. I know you’ll eat anything held up to your muzzle, and I’ve got cheeseburgers. Double cheeseburgers, actually. 450 calories each. They’re all going to be buried in that lard pile of a belly and become even more waistline. I know how much you love that~” He passes the fox a grease-soaked fast food bag, and they reach for it as quick as they can to shove a cheeseburger into themself. He watches as their full attention goes to their meal, thoughts leaving this world as a fresh layer of grease drips down her fat as hell double chin and coats their paws.

The demon dog undoes his belt and lets his jeans drop. He pulls his cock from his boxers, and just lets the throbbing length sink into his wife’s belly fat as they just lay there, gorging themself on calories. It’s become difficult for him to get hard without seeing her glut herself as he fucks their sweat-lubricated body, so he takes the opportunity to fully bury himself in a roll of belly, and starts gently thrusting. He chuckles between huffs, “You’re lucky to have a cock buried in lard all day. If only you could actually do anything with it anymore~” He digs a paw underneath the fox’s enormous gut, getting coated past the elbow in whatever combination of sweat, cum, and urine has built up under there, in search of their fatpad and the treasure within. As he starts rubbing and jiggling the roll of cock-engulfing fat, his wife’s breathing grows heavier just trying to keep up with the stimulation. He starts digging pawfingers into their fatpad and stroking as he growls, “It’s hot how you can’t do this without me anymore. Keep eating those cheeseburgers, and you’re gonna make sure you can’t even get off by trying to rub up against your own fat. Do that for me, beautiful. Make sure my paw’s the only place your cum can ever end up. I know how much you want that, even if it wasn’t already obvious by your size now, compared to the day we met.”

His wife cums halfway through his pillow talk, not even a minute in, and just lays there catching their breath between desperate gulps of cheeseburger. As he finally joins them in releasing a load into one of their folds, the fox feels her spouse’s body relax. He lovingly mutters against their ear, “Mmmm...good boy. Keep eating those cheeseburgers for me. I’ve got a box of snack cakes I’m gonna shove into that fat face of yours for dessert. A garbage bag full of lard like you deserves to be full of 1,500 more calories of delicious fat and sugar.” He presses little kisses into the side of your head and feels the beads of sweat dripping down, his own fur absorbing more of his wife’s unwashed stink as he presses in closer. “Love you forever, lardgut. My beautiful, bedbound, fatass of a wife. I’ll always take care of you.”

https://beanbagbelly.cafe/writing/lardgut.html

– Fox (they/she) 💙 & Demon Dog (any pronouns) 🤍