I broke in a new sub last weekend. This boy was a biggie – he shops at the Big and Tall stores because he fits both categories. In fact, he satisfied my cravings in a few ways: Big tall guy; Big huge cock; and very big in the belly. This boy is Chubby.

And, let me tell you, sometimes chubby subs are just better. Period. There’s more of them to break, more to grab, more to use. I don’t want some twig trembling under me like a leaf—I want men who can take what I give them. And sometimes I look for someone just like this boy – I want a fat, squishy mess moaning into the sheets while I ruin him.

Let’s talk asses. A fat ass reddens so much better than a bony one. Spank a skinny sub and you’re just hitting bone—no fun in that. But a chubby boy? His ass jiggles, welts beautifully, and gets that perfect red glow when I’ve had enough of his whining.

And when I’m pegging him deep, I want something to hold onto. His sides, his belly, whatever’s there—gimme handles. I’m not trying to be graceful, I’m trying to use him. I ride chubby subs like I’m breaking in a piggie—hair in my hand, ass under mine, sweat dripping. They grunt and squeal and try to keep up, and it’s fucking glorious.

There’s a raw, desperate energy in them. Maybe they’re used to being ignored or laughed at, but under me? They’re exactly what they were meant to be: useful, obedient, dripping, and destroyed.

So yeah, give me a fat sub. I’ll ride him til his legs shake, leave handprints on every inch, and he’ll thank me for it.

This big boy was very thankful. I woke up to a dozen flowers at my hotel and a private car waiting to take me to the airport. Looks like I’ve got myself a new plaything for when I’m in town. Now I’m just wondering—does his credit card have the limit to keep up with me, or is he still swiping Daddy’s? Either way, I plan on finding out. I’m thinking a weekend in a luxury suite. I’ll take my meals in the room, and he’ll be allowed to serve me the entire weekend.