#feedee fiction

[khimkhim]

It’s kind of pathetic how weak I am when it comes to stretchmarks. I’m fucking obsessed with them. Obviously getting fat is already a physical manifestation of how much of a piggy a person is but stretchmarks are different. They’re a tangible symbol of how *desperately* greedy a piggy is. You ate so much and so quickly that your skin couldn’t even keep up with your swelling body. Bursting at the seams — literally. When my feedee started to scratch her belly more often I knew what was about to happen even before she did. I saw faint little red marks that could’ve been scratch marks but sure enough — a week or two later they were little red lightning marks. Once the first ones appear they’re almost always followed by more, and sure enough again, a month later she had them all over her tummy. It’s fuckin magical. Don’t even get me STARTED on when a new feedee stretches, raises their arms up, and that shirt lifts up justttt enough to reveal those cute little jagged lines on the bottom of their tummy 😩 I’m a big fan of stretchmarks if you couldn’t tell. Please DM me your stretchmarks!! Haha just kidding. Unless… 🥺

[kat-tastrophe]

My unrealistic fantasy that could be achieved irl is me being tied up and force fed for a week. The only reasons to untie me are for the bathroom and sleeping(depending on the type of restraint). There would be no excessive and no work. The only thing that would happen is food and liquid calories being pumped into me and only food in me and seeing what the impact is after a after a week. For clothing, im either left in the same outfit or they get me something too big that I dont know the size, so I don't know the impact. Or i could just be stripped naked. The type of restraining could differ from being tied to a chair or a bed to shibari or even being locked in a room. And I think it would be hot to take it to an extreme of a month or even a year and see how big or fast of an impact it has on me. Either willingly eating and slowly getting bigger or forcefully with tubes and force feeding. I think it would be hot to imagine interacting with my coworkers or friends after I'm released. Watching and getting their reaction as not only have I come back from my break a bit bigger, but I'd still be visibly bloated for a few days after as my body trys to reajust to normal food and eating habits. This is a fantasy I think would be hot to live out and try. Let me know any suggestions or comments you have. Or even your own twists.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Please, stuff me until I’m out of breath. (make it so I can’t breath properly)

Please, stuff me until I’m heaving. (make me unable to swallow anymore)

Please, stuff me until I’m burping uncontrollably. (make me burp as I’m trying to eat more)

Please, stuff me until my jaw is sore. (make my tongue cramp)

Please, stuff me until I can’t stand up without assistance. (make me too heavy to help)

Please, stuff me until I can’t walk. (make me temporarily immobile)

Please, stuff me until I am sleepy. (make me pass out)

Please, stuff me until my belly is distended. (make my gut so much fatter)

Please, stuff me until I’m addicted to eating. (make me desperate for more food)

[jawwtin]

It Doesn't Stop...

The funnel has been getting more and more use, and your greedy little head has become somewhat addicted to it, hasn't it... ;))

It's been a hot minute since my last audio recording, but this was a wonderful one I had to do once I came across it, written by @purgatorylayby! Check out the original post below, and as always click the "#my audio" tag on my blog for my other readings 😘

[ajrjtj2]

So which cartoon “ruined” your brain and got you into this?

[charliegyrth]

Go with the Flow - Part 8 of 9

Never Gonna Surf Again

Read Part 7 here.

That night, Kai was in total control. He’d never topped me before, and I had no idea what I was missing. With each thrust, I gave into him just a little bit more. I loved it.

Losing control. Being conquered. Feeling his heaviness press down on me.

Honestly, it was the best sex we’d ever had, leaving me sore and exhausted and deeply satisfied.

When he was finished, he collapsed onto the bed with a grunt and instantly fell asleep, his warm arms wrapped around me like he owned me.

Which, well, he did.

The next morning, Kai was still deep asleep when I woke up. His snoring was getting worse, which didn’t bother me at night but was a definite annoyance in the early morning.

Well, not early morning. It was already nine.

I quietly climbed out of the covers, ready to fix him some pancakes for a surprise breakfast in bed. I stopped, though, and took a moment to check out his naked body. The sheets had bunched up around his ankles, leaving most of him exposed.

God, he was beautiful. His belly looked particularly soft as it spilled onto the mattress. I don’t know how long I stood there, studying his body, silently kicking myself for not noticing how positively overripe he’d become.

I didn’t realize at the time, but I’d just discovered a new tradition that I’d repeat every day:

The morning body check.

Because I invariably woke up first, and because he always slept naked, the morning was the perfect time to check out his body and look for any subtle changes. And he was changing, in a thousand little ways. Here's what I noticed as the weeks wore on:

The first change was his chest. His nipples stretched out a little and fat collected at the bottom of each pec. He didn’t have moobs at the party, but it didn’t take long for them to sprout.

The next change I noticed were the two creases that formed on his sides, the upper barrier to his small-but-thick love handles. Those came in pretty fast.

After that, it was the deepening cellulite. Before, his thighs looked perfectly smooth in good lighting, but at night, those tiny hills and valleys formed shadows against the moonlight. Now, though, they were always visible, especially on his hips.

But the biggest change was his stomach, which seemed to grow every day. It became the centerpiece of his whole body, his crowning achievement. I had always imagined him as a bottom-heavy fat person. He’d become more and more submissive as his legs and hips flared out in a feminine way. That was how I’d pictured his body molding the fat.

It ended up being the exact opposite. His ass and legs really hadn’t grown that much. They’d just softened. No, he wasn’t bottom-heavy at all. In fact, his stomach was getting so big that his legs seemed like they could barely hold him up, especially as he waddled with his stomach jiggling.

And damn, did it jiggle. No one would ever think this was a food bloat. It was pure lard that he proudly displayed.

So in the mornings, when I examined his naked form, the first thing I looked at was his gut. Was it bigger? Wider? I had to be careful not to focus so much on that belly, because then I’d miss out on the moobs and the creases and the hundred other small changes that made him more beautiful each day.

Some mornings, I could tell that he was only pretending to be asleep. I’d catch him trying to hide a smirk while I stared at his belly. But he never said anything. He enjoyed the attention.

After that, I’d go for a run while he ate pancakes. When I’d get back home, we’d both be out of breath, but for different reasons.

***

Then one morning, I returned home to an empty house. The kitchen didn’t even smell like food, which was a rare occurrence in our house. I looked all around for him, until I saw him sitting on the patio. He had one hand on his gut, bobbing up and down as he took long, deep breaths. He was lost in thought, staring at the sunrise.

“Babe?”

He turned to see me as I walked onto the patio. His stomach bunched into three thick rolls. When I sat next to him, he leaned back again, and those rolls combined into his spherical gut. “Wanna join me?” he asked. “I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Surfing,” he muttered. That was not the answer I’d expected. “I was just thinking how I’ll probably never surf again. And even if I tried, I don’t think I’d be able to do it.”

I stared at his stomach because it was easier than looking him in the eyes. I didn’t want to see the sadness gleaming off them.

I knew this day would come. I spent so much time worshipping his body, and he spent so much time building it, but eventually, he was going to regret getting fat. He’d look around, see how much his life had changed, and decide to go back to the way he used to be. He was a thin guy at heart, a go-with-the-flow surfer. He’d finally come to his senses.

But when I finally gathered the courage to look into his eyes, I didn’t see any sadness or regret. I just saw a relaxed calmness. “I’m never gonna surf again,” he said. Just a realization, a statement of fact. Neither positive nor negative.

I don’t know if he expected me to say anything. We just sat there, watching the sun rise into the sky. Neither of us spoke until Kai broke the silence with, “Babe, can you grab those Cheetos on the counter, please?”

Read Part 9 here. You can find all my stories here.

And if you'd like to read the full story now, check out the ebook. This story will always be free on Tumblr, but you can also buy it on Amazon (with a bonus story).

[kilojulia]

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

(YN) felt alive with every pound she gained. It started small—an extra dessert, a second helping—but soon became an obsession. She loved the stretch of her skin, the heaviness in her limbs, the way her reflection grew to fill the mirror. Each new number on the scale was a victory, a tangible mark of her indulgence. Friends faded, concern in their eyes, but (YN) didn't care. She documented her growth online, finding a community that celebrated her transformation. Every meal was a ritual, every bite a step toward her goal. Satisfaction wasn’t in stopping—it was in becoming more.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

[blepjkabf]

”when did my baby get so fat?”

All day you had been teasing. I went to work before you woke up and as soon as you did you sent me selfies of you drinking a weight gain shake and wearing a shirt that definitely fit better 20 pounds ago. I’d reply with encouragement and get back to work but before I know it you’re texting me again. This time you’re telling me that you’re getting ready to go out with a friend and you just cant seem to find pants that fit properly. You tell me you went with a dress instead and send me a picture, obviously trying to tease. In the picture you’re standing sideways in front of a mirror in that blue and purple dress. It’s tied tightly, your belly pressing against the front and the cut out in the back definitely showing how soft you’ve gotten. You’ve got one hand on the phone and the other holding your definitely stuffed belly. I’d reply telling you how beautiful you look and that you’re definitely having fun without me. 

Finishing up my day at work I get another text from you. You tell me you’re home and getting comfy and that you had fun when you were out but your friend just couldn’t get over how fat you’d gotten. Apparently when she saw you she mentioned something about how I must be taking care of you well and then as you were eating lunch she saw your portion size and said something along the lines of no wonder that dress is so tight. You told me that you found it hard not to blush when she said that even though you thought you should be embarrassed. You finished up the message with a selfie from the couch showing you in just your bra and underwear where you had slipped out of your dress, saying by the time you got done for lunch it was way too tight so you were just gonna be comfortable until I got home. I’d reply teasing about how well you’re taken care of and how fat you’re looking today. I’d let you know that I’m on my way home and I can’t wait to see you. 

I’d walk through the door of our house and call for you, with no reply. I’d go into the living room and find you still in your underwear looking at me with those big doe eyes, holding your belly. I’d greet you how I normally would, walking up to kiss you and you’d pull me close. I’d end up looking down at you from where you’re sitting on the couch, heavy tits trying to spill out of your bra, belly resting out on your thighs, looking round but not quite as full anymore. I’d put my finger under your chin, guiding your head up to look at me, asking you what’s going on. You’d pull me closer again, telling me that you’re just so hungry. You had tried to stuff yourself a few times today but it’s just not the same without me and you need to be full. 

This had become a regular thing after you started gaining. You would get in the mood sometimes while I’m at work and you would get so worked up that by the time I got home you were begging to be stuffed. You noticed how much I loved it when you begged and wanted to be bigger so bad and it just made it more fun. 

You’ve gained about 30 pounds since you started gaining, and you love it so much there’s no end in sight. And now, you’re sitting infront of me, gains out for the world to see, begging me to make you gain even more. I lean down to kiss you gently again but you pull me in tight for a deep kiss. You grab my hand and pull it into your belly fat, looking me in the eyes begging for me to make you so much softer. I give in and hand you my phone with door dash open. I tell you to order as much as you want of whatever you want while I go get clean from work. You lean back on the couch, my phone in one hand and your belly in the other, mindlessly playing with it while you order. 

Soon enough the food would be here, I’d go get it from the door to save you the trip, me still not knowing what all you had ordered. I opened the door to find two big bags of Texas Roadhouse. I look back at you seeing the wide grin on your face. I’d bring the bags in and get everything out on the coffee table. I’d push you back on the couch and kiss you, only to pull back and tell you to beg. I’d make you beg to be stuffed. beg to get fatter. beg to be so stuffed you cant even get off the couch. You would start pleading, telling me how you want to be so much bigger, how you want that dress you were wearing earlier not to be able to reach around you. You just wanted to be my fat cow who opens her mouth and gets used. Not only had you ordered a meal, but you also ordered an appetizer and a dozen rolls. I had expected you to order more honestly, and I asked why you didn’t. You told me that once you finished this, you had a surprise for me. I just nodded along and picked up the thing of rolls, and you dug in. 

you ate until there was nothing left. Roll after roll, bite after bite, butter dripping down your chin as you pig out. Me just watching in awe. I let you feed yourself as I rub your expanding belly and kiss you all over. By the time you finish your food, you’re panting and you have a proper belly. One that sticks out, taking up more and more of your lap. I give you a minute before moving to eat you out, but you stop me. You say to help you up and then stay there. I pull you up with a groan and you waddle to the kitchen holding your freshly stuffed tummy. I stay there wondering what youre doing, but then it all makes sense as you waddle back into the living room. Not only are you carrying the funnel, but also a pitcher full of weight gain shake. 

“Baby how many of those have you had today?” 

“Not enough. Please just make me bigger and heavier.” 

“Oh baby I will but you dont just get to sit back and be fed.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well im gonna sit down and youre gonna ride my strap while I stick this funnel down your throat. So you can show me just how good it feels to be getting fattened up” 

You dont even respond before you push me down on the couch and straddle my waist. i slip it inside of you and you settle your weight on me, I moan at the feeling, your belly spilling out from between your thighs, settling against me. You start to move your hips as I stick the funnel into your mouth, slowly pouring calories upon calories into you. You moan at the taste, knowing that you’ll wake up in the morning still looking stuffed even though your stomach is empty. But thats the best part isnt it? Feeling yourself expand and get softer with every bite. Feeling how your clothes feel tighter and tighter around your pot belly. And moments like these when we can see how much you’ve really grown by stuffing you so full your belly defies gravity with the way it sticks out. 

I continue to pour the shake down the funnel, making you hold it so I can use one hand to pinch and rub you. I reach down to press at your belly and listen to you moan from the sensitivity. 

“Oh baby I told you it would get more sensitive the more you gained.” You just looked at me with pleading eyes, asking for more of the shake, asking to get even more sensitive. As you continued to drink, your belly pressed against me more and more, it going from full to taut. You looked atleast 6 months pregnant. You’d finish as I press against your belly more, and I would flip you around and set you down on the couch, you still holding the funnel in your mouth. I’d slip out of you and grab the dress you squeezed into earlier.

“Lets show everyone how well I take care of you princess” I’d set the funnel down and slip the dress over your head and tried to pull it down over your belly with not much luck, I look up at you to see you blushing and holding back a moan. I press on your belly to try to tug the dress down, you let the moans slip out as I tug the dress down, hearing the seems stretch to match your increased size. I cant even attempt to tie the back, but just getting it on was a feat on its own. With it on, I stick the funnel back in your mouth to your surprise. I press on your tummy as you attempt to finish the pitcher. Just as you swallow the last few mouthfuls, the side of the dress succumbs to the stress of your weight. Your belly spills out from the side and you look at me in awe. 

“Baby don’t you remember that we got this dress from the maternity section? when did my baby get so fat? I wonder what your friend would think about you now. Begging so much to be stuffed that your clothes cant hold you anymore, it’s pretty pathetic if you ask me..” 

[khimkhim]

I remember the signs of when things started to change, when you started to give in. You went from taking sips of my sodas to having an entire bottle at dinner. You went from occasionally silently burping or hiccuping while saying “oh! Excuse me…” to shamelessly burping several times during dinner before unbuttoning your pants — both done so you could fit more into that flat little tummy of yours. Speaking of unbuttoning pants, you went from maybe unbuttoning them after a really big meal to unbuttoning them *right* when you sat down to eat. Sitting with buttoned pants was becoming uncomfortable and you knew you were about to stuff yourself silly so why not unbutton them as a proactive measure? You even started to unbutton them right when you got home from work! You started to become increasingly comfortable rubbing your tummy after meals, letting it out to breathe as you became more comfortable with me and your own body. You went from finishing only half a plate to me serving you larger portions than I served myself. You used to avoid taking the last breadstick but I offered it to you so many times, now all you had to do was sheepishly grin at me as you took the last two. Looking back, it’s funny how obvious it was that you’d already made peace with getting fat before you even consciously accepted it — before you even started to put on real weight! But you knew I supported you and loved you no matter what, which was enough to let go. Thank god for letting go, right?

[sneap-sneap]

Missy’s Idea, pt 1

Heyyyy, this is the little thing I wrote! It involves Martin, who is a stuffed animal cat who likes to overfill himself, and his friend/sort-of girlfriend Missy, a flesh-and-blood cat.

———————————————————————

“What does it feel like?”

Missy’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice, and she turned to give him a look. “Martin, that’s so vague I don’t know how you expect me to answer-“

“I mean, what does being really full feel like to you?” Martin asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Missy absentmindedly scratched her side with a claw, her paw moving towards her belly as she considered. “I guess…it has a lot to do with the pressure. When you’ve eaten a lot, it’s really tight and you feel really stretched out.”

Martin squinted at her. “Well, I know what it feels like to be stretched. My stomach can stretch wayyy more than yours!”

“Martin, you do not have a stomach.” Missy rolled her eyes. “You’re basically a cloth bag of cotton fluff. It’s way different when it comes to an actual gastrointestinal system.” She paused for a second, and Martin looked at her in curiosity. He was used to being somewhat dismissed, but it seemed like she was really considering his question. Martin watched her rub her paw up and down her belly. She pushed the soft fur back and forth along the curve, somewhat more swollen than normal but nowhere near her maximum. It made sense, her interest in his query. Her belly-focused activities with Martin were some of the few times he saw her show her actual feelings—a rarity for the standoffish cat.

Missy looked at him, interrupting his thoughts.

“There are more…stakes when I’m the one overeating. I think that’s what makes it so thrilling to me? I could get sick, or get a bellyache, or indigestion, whatever. Trying to stay on the balance of discomfort and pleasure is really exciting. Also, I don’t know, your body pushing back against what you’re doing to it? Like, your body will stretch basically however you want. To get this gut-“ she patted her stomach “-anywhere near the size of yours, I have to force it to go against what my body is telling it. My instincts are telling me, ‘that’s enough,’ but I’m disobeying them and gorging myself even further. That disobedience is reallllly fun.” Missy grinned, showing her sharp canines. Martin felt a little thrill run through him.

“It feels really heavy too. You can’t swallow liquid or anything, cause you’ll get moldy, but especially with liquid there’s a density that makes the sensation of being full extra strong. You’re just so…weighed down by your own gluttony. Plus it’s really bubbly and gurgley when I chug something carbonated. Sometimes I can sort of feel the bubbles moving around, and I know you like listening to them. Not to mention the feeling of cool liquid hitting your stomach, especially if you’ve been eating something warm. That’s a little shocking of a sensation and, I don’t know how, but it always makes me feel so much more stuffed than before.”

Missy’s cheeks were tinging pink, Martin noticed. It might be possible that she liked this…hobby? Interest? of his more than he had expected.

“Also, when my paws, or your paws are pressing against my belly, there’s so much more resistance than there is with the stuffing you use.” Missy squirmed a little in her seat. She demonstrated by poking her abdomen, pressing on about an inch with some effort. “Especially if I’m really packed full, especially if you helped me keep going and keep eating way after I was satisfied, my belly gets pretty hard. I guess you’ve probably noticed; you’ve touched me a lot. But pushing into my full belly isn’t like squishing yours. Although that’s really fun too. You’re pretty much always soft, but my belly is so…substantial, so solidly packed and attached to my body, like I’ve made it that way, I put so much inside of me that it hurts, I disregarded my internal messages to stop and therefore put myself in a position that’s sort of taboo in a way. It’s so good, Martin. It feels so good.” Missy’s pupils were dilated as she studied him, and Martin suddenly felt as examined as the initial question had been.

“I wonder…” Missy trailed off, obviously thinking hard. “I have an idea! Martin, wait here.”

She hopped up from the couch and went into another room, leaving a confusedly almost-aroused Martin. After a few minutes and some rummaging noises, she came back with a belt and a corset. She dumped these on his lap and ran off again, returning with a huge bag of rice.

“So. Martin.” Martin felt a tingling sensation when she said his name like that. Like he had something coming for him. Something good, but knowing Missy, something really intense.

“I’m gonna put this belt and corset on you, so you can feel the tightness, and then I’m going to fill you to bursting with rice. I always feel so heavy after eating rice, so I think you’ll really get a sense of how it feels to be a little helplessly full.” Missy’s eyes had a mischievous but genuine glint, and Martin couldn’t resist his curiosity.

“Okay.” He said, grabbing her paw and putting it on his belly. She flushed under her fur. “Fill me up.”

[jawwtin]

Giving Feederism a "Try", by girlyhornywriter

Your boyfriend encourages you to indulge in his fantasies, and indulge your own appetite a little more. You're a little apprehensive, but, hey, why not? Where could it possibly end up leading to...? 🐖😈

Another one of those pieces where I immediately want to reach for my phone to record. @girlyhornywriter is an exceptional writer and you should all check out their work! (Also I have a new phone, so my mic is sounding significantly better, even after having to reduce this file to satisfy tumblr's size limits)

[peachyhips]

I think these trousers shrunk :( they won’t fit over my belly anymore

[khimkhim]

Jesus I did not realize I gotten this fat 🥵

[softgal47]

might delete in a bit not really sure 😧 went shopping with a bit of a bloated tummy the other day, this dress sort of reminded me of coral 🪸, I didn’t end up getting it!!