#feedee fiction

[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 😘

[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.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

[ajrjtj2]

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

[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..” 

[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.”

[envihellbender]

CLAUD SEQUEL

Rating: Mature (Kink)

Characters: Zachary Redvers, Horatio Ewart, Claud Ewart

Content: kidnapping, extreme weight gain

—

Zach could not think of a single word to say as Horatio’s hand still gripped his wrist and he stared upon the master of the house. Claud’s expressions were not remotely readable, his lips were so plump and bloated they could’ve been smirking or frowning. However the way he rubbed his gut seemed arrogant, and the way his blue eyes narrowed causing them to be almost completely hidden in fat felt as if Zach as being scrutinised. Somehow, nothing about Claud’s entire body was stagnant despite his sedentary lifestyle. With every moment his body rippled and caused the floorboards to protest. He was also completely naked, something which caused Zach’s cheeks to burn a deep red, shame at seeing a stranger so bare filling him. Normally it would make the indecent one seem vulnerable, but somehow Claud’s obscenity somehow made him seem more terrifying and dominating. It almost felt like a display from the animal kingdom rather than upstairs in a small one up two down terrace house in Portobello. Zach tried not to think about how he couldn’t smell the salt water of the coast or hear the sea gulls in this room. The stench of sweat, waste, and food was so overwhelming, as was the ambience of Claud’s grunting, releasing of wind, squelching, and the way the house strained and complained around his existence.

“Mm. My boy, who is this runt you’ve brought to me?” Claud wheezed, he didn’t look at Horatio but it was clear he was speaking to him. Zach felt as if he was drowning in heated water, the sweat and temperature of the room smothering him alongside the terror Claud struck in his heart.

“I told you, Father,” Horatio answered, his voice shaky and not looking in Zach’s direction. “He moved in to Auntie Sadie’s Boarding House next door. He wanted to get to know the area.”

“You know I don’t care for strangers in my house, little one. You there. Stranger. Who are you? What do you do?” Claud’s voice was as heavy and thick as his thighs, and it caused Zach to have a cold fear run through his insides similar to that of being a child being scolded by his own father.

“I- I am- Zachary Terrance, Sir,” he lied. “I came here in hope of working in the docks as- as a fisherman.” At his slight stammer caused Claud to let out a low hum. A slovenly, slug like noice from his cracked, stained lips - which he lapped at almost hungrily. There was a leer to his gaze, making his assumptions very clear.

“Aha, the docks, of course,” Claud wheezed, Zach managed to discern his smirk based on how his face contorted, his sagged cheeks looked like gigantic half deflated balloons and they had managed to be lifted somewhat, hiding his eyes once more. “I hope you’ve not been spending too much on the boy, lad. You know you’ve got to save a great deal for my upkeep.” The way Horatio’s cheeks burned at this told Zach Claud wasn’t just talking about how many shillings Horatio had for the weekly shop.

“I- I think you’ve got the wrong-” Horatio stopped and furrowed his brow, he was in deep thought for a moment and flashed a look at Zach. He decided to keep his mouth shut. “Right. Yes. I will, father.”

“In the mean time, send our new friend home, will you?” Claud commanded, his voice a grunt as his expansive stomach began to groan and cry out for nourishment. “I require my feed. And bathing afterwards, my boy.”

“Of course, father.” Horatio nodded as he scurried towards the door, Zach was right behind him but before he left he felt a putrid smell cover him, the main sign that Claud had opened his mouth to speak.

“And of course it was nice to meet you, neighbour,” he sneered, his tone was heavy with lust and depravity, something Zach was not used to experiencing.

“You too, Sir,” was all he could say in response. When the door shut behind them they were silent, they were both terrified as they walked down the stairs and it wasn’t until they reached the front door that Horatio spoke.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in all this. Oh god, it’s going to be horrific I can’t believe this,” he rambled, his voice a panicked whisper. Zach waited patiently for him to stop before reaching out and giving Horatio’s shoulder a friendly, reassuring squeeze.

“Do not apologise, this is perfect. I have a fantastic disguise all decided purely by the murderer. Horatio. We are going to get him, and we are going to save you.” The shine in Zach’s eyes and delight in his voice caused Horatio to stare nonplussed for a moment, unsure of how this could possibly be a good thing.

“But… but he’ll want to … He will want to … make use of your services. Or the services he thinks you have on offer.” Horatio looked as if he might weep, Zach felt touched - and saddened that such a warm, gentle young man was being punished with this.

“Horatio. I promise I am going to get you and I out of here unscathed. You have my word. And now I must be off before the man gets suspicious. If you wish to find me…” Zach rummaged through his waistcoat pocket as he spoke before pulling out a small card and handing it over. “Here is the address of my agency. I can be reached there at all hours.” He slipped his coat back on his shoulders as he all but ran out of the front door. “I’ll be in touch.”

[kallietell]

Campus Pigs- Forced Fattening Day 4

“Hey. Hey, Lindsey. Wake up. You gotta wake up Linds, it's time for your morning shake.”

Lindsey groaned and, to her horror, burped the second she opened her eyes, the previous night’s stuffing one of her most intense so far and clearly still filling her stomach to the brim more than seven hours of sleep later. She groaned, her hands falling to her ever-stuffed middle. After her tequila sunrise fueled lunch stuffing with Karina yesterday, she’d slept for so long that her post-lunch snack had to be combined with her dinner again, meaning that the stuffing was the largest and most fattening of the three days Lindsey had been competing as a pig so far. 

Courtney had whipped up a meat sauce pasta, an easy meal because of the cheap, calorie-dense ingredients and simple preparation that left plenty of leftovers. The sauce was swimming in oil, the noodles were slick with butter, and the flavorful, herby chunks of meat crowding the sauce were a pork-based, fatty blend. Five portions served with a loaf and a half of garlic bread so heavily buttered it left Lindsey’s fingers shiny and an entire tray of Courtney’s double chocolate chip cookies dipped in a glass of heavy cream instead of milk. She’d been fighting to down each bite, her earlier gluttony working against her as she attempted to gorge herself beyond any reasonable limit. 

With each meal it was becoming more and more obvious that Abigail was completely right; Lindsey had a stomach of steel. While she was loosely aware that she could handle her liquor well, that she rarely got the stomach flu or food poisoning, it had never really occurred to Lindsey to dwell on the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she’d thrown up. To the best of her knowledge, she never had, even as a child. This meant that the boundary line of her stomach capacity could be stretched, manipulated, and more and more often, ignored entirely as Lindsey shoved down her massively oversized meals. There was no threat or danger of the reversal of all of her hard work because no matter how much she put away, Lindsey's nausea never became overwhelming. 

The previous night she’d sworn she’d reached her limit, swore that if she put away one more bite she would explode, but Abigail, Ellie, and Courtney simply encouraged and threatened Lindsey through the rest of the impossibly large feast, showering her with cooing praise when she finally lay half propped up in the kitchen chair with her face covered in spaghetti sauce and her bloated little gut prominently swollen beneath the stretchy spandex of her tightening tank top. 

She’d been late for bed that evening as she was unable to move for almost an hour, a shooting pain snaking up her middle whenever she attempted to bend at the waist to push herself to her feet. The meal had left her an overfed, gluttonous mess: panting for air in between unabashed burps, moaning and groaning incessantly as she whined about how much her stomach hurt, and rubbing her gut desperately for some kind of relief against the onslaught of food that had successfully been wielded against her. 

When she had finally digested enough to move, Courtney had helped her make the slow shuffle back to her bed, Lindsey holding her small, aching belly like she was nine months pregnant and thanking god for her new first-floor accommodations, finally recognizing Abigail's genius in realizing that whoever was chosen as pig would be first too full, then too fat to be anything less than miserable at the concept of scaling the sorority house’s staircase. Courtney had helped her change into her pajamas, tucked her into bed, and left, Lindsey drifting off into a food coma the second her head hit the pillow. She was jarringly yanked from that peaceful sleep, however, when Courtney returned 10 minutes later, Lindsey’s nightly shake in hand. Lindsey had almost cried when she was shaken awake with the half heavy-cream, half ice-cream concoction shoved into her face, and Courntey’s sheepish apologies and promises that she made it sweeter so it would be easier for Lindsey to get down did little to lessen her complaints or alleviate the pressure on her middle. 

That was the problem with an eating schedule as jam-packed as the one that Lindsey was now expected to adhere to. She was being forced to eat so much so quickly that deviations from the schedule were inevitable, but that just meant she had to make up for the lost calories at the next meal, making it take longer and leaving her even fuller. It was becoming a self-perpetuating cycle and Lindsey was quickly learning that the faster she downed her meals, snacks, and shakes, the less time she had to spend confined to the table in front of plates piled high with a fork in her hand. That mentality at the forefront of her mind the night before, Lindsey had downed the shake more quickly than she ever had and fallen asleep unable to stop her constant burps, her cheeks growing red from just how greedy and plump those uncontrollable burps made her sound. 

As she’d just discovered, sleep did little to ease her fullness, and the burping had begun again as soon as she was conscious. She frowned. After last night's very unwelcome weight gain shake interruption, the last voice she wanted to hear was Courtney’s and the last sight she wanted to see was a glass full of the creamy, decadent treat that Lindsey was beginning to abhor despite its pleasant taste. She turned her head towards the wall belligerently. 

“I'm still sleeping,” she grumbled, pulling her comforter back over her head as she turned. 

“Lindsey, c’mon,” Courtney pressed, poking the lump of covers and getting Lindsey in the shoulder. “You gotta drink this so you can get up and get ready, you have to finish your breakfast before you go to class.”

Lindsey froze, suddenly wide awake. The past three days had been such a frenzy of emotions and calories and force-feeding that she’d somehow completely forgotten that she was attending university for anything other than Phi Lambda. She would have to start going to her classes again, going to them as campus pig, and the thought made her heart sink. She couldn't exactly articulate her qualm with her return to the real world, but the past few days of solitude, of only seeing her sisters and stuffing herself silly for them whenever Abigail told her to, made the whole campus pigs situation seem removed from her actual life. 

In real life, she was Lindsey, a popular soccer player with good grades and an (almost) boyfriend. In this odd, unpleasant little sorority game she was playing, she was the campus pig, the unfortunate girl selected to blow herself up with fat in the hopes of outweighing all the other forced porkers. Doing things Lindsey would do as a campus pig was an interpolation of her two lives that made the whole thing far too real. Going to class and seeing people she’d always seen, sitting in the dining hall or the university's many campus cafes with meals triple the size of what she used to order, even greeting the same professors every day would serve as a horrifying reminder that she was getting fat in real life. That the campus pigs contest couldn't be separated or removed from who she was, but would instead soon become a part of who she was. It would become a part of her story, part of the way that other students and Greek houses identified her. Lindsey, the campus pig. Winner of the campus pigs contest, if all goes according to Abigail's ambitious but apparently not unreasonable expectations. 

She couldn't go to class. She couldn't face that reality yet, couldn't face the real world with her new, unwanted responsibilities. Yes, there were other girls on campus facing the same fate, girls with the same goals, but given that Phi Lambda had been the longstanding and undefeated champions of the contest for as long as they had, all eyes would be on her from the beginning, especially after her unexpected performance at the pizza eating contest. Everyone would be watching her make a glutton of herself, watching her snack all through class then get picked up immediately afterwards so she didn't have to expend a single unnecessary calorie. They’d be overanalyzing her clothes to see if they were fitting tighter, watching her belly to see if it grew while she ate, listening for her burps and giggling when she kept stuffing herself anyway. She’d be instantly infamous, and she simply couldn't deal with the thought. 

“I can’t,” she whispered, no true plan for circumventing her academic responsibilities in mind but forging ahead regardless. 

“Lindsey, you have to drink the shake,” Courtney began with a sigh. “The more often you drink it the easier it'll be to-,” she began to recite, but Lindsey cut her off by popping her head out of the nest of blankets and turning to face her. 

“No, no, not the shake. Class,” Lindsey corrected. “I can't go to class. Seriously, I can't. I- I don't feel well,” she fumbled, struggling to think on her feet. “And I. I…um. I think if I go maybe I'd get sick and that would ruin our progress,” she said, leaning on one of Abigail's oft-uttered phrases in the hopes that it would add a modicum of validity to her obviously fabricated story. 

“You wouldn't get sick,” Courtney protested lightly, pity for Lindsey evident in her tone. “You never do.”

“Yea, but I might this time,” Lindsey argued, her heart beginning to beat faster as panic at the thought of returning to class set in. “I really might. And, and I can eat more if I don't go to class. If I don't go I can just eat all day like I've been doing. And gaining as much weight as possible in the beginning is what's most important,” she rushed, parroting another one of Abigail's frequent talking points. “This is really the most important week, I really need to be eating non-stop.”

“Lindsey,” Courtney sighed, clearly conflicted. 

“I’ll drink two of the shakes!” Lindsey bargained. “I’ll drink two right now and still eat everything I'm supposed to today and I won't complain, I promise.”

“Lindsey, you have to go back to class eventually,” Courtney reasoned. “And the longer you wait the harder it’ll be. I mean-”

She stopped, pressing her lips together as if considering the best way to provide some unsatisfying information. 

“Everybody already knows you’re the pig, right?” Courtney finally forged ahead. 

Lindsey nodded.

“So, everybody knows you’re gonna be eating a lot and you’re gonna be looking bigger, it's just how the contest goes. Nobody is gonna judge you, and nobody thinks this is just something you randomly want to do. They’ll know you’re doing it for your sisters. They’ll be jealous of you honestly, cause they’ll know you’re gonna win. We always win. I’m telling you, being out in public is nowhere near as bad as you think.”

“Courtney, I just can't, I really can’t. Not today, I need one more day.”

Courtney pressed her lips together once more, a slightly guilty expression on her face. 

“Please,” Lindsey begged after the beat of silence, sure she’d nearly worn Courtney down. 

“And you’ll have two heavy cream shakes?” Courtney asked. “And you’ll drink them both without complaining, I won't have to make you?”

“Totally, I'll chug this one right now, give it to me,” Lindsey said, pushing herself into more of a sitting position and covering her mouth when the adjustment to her posture forced out another burp. 

“Ummm,” Courtney hummed, considering. “Fine. Here. I’ll go make your next one.”

“Oh my god, thank you Courtney, thank you,” Lindsey breathed, relief flooding her body as the house treasurer handed her the cold glass. “I’m gonna go tomorrow, I promise.”

Courtney sighed. 

“You better. I don't wanna get in trouble with Abigail. I think one more day is fine, just don’t… don’t tell her. I’ll be right back.”

Courtney flashed her a quick smile and was gone, Lindsey's heartbeat finally slowing as her problem became the next day's concern. 

Left alone with the shake for the first time, Lindsey looked down at it, raised it to her lips, and paused. Courtney had left to make a second shake and no one was here to watch Lindsey.

‘No one on guard duty’, she thought bitterly. 

With no one to verify that she was actually consuming the contents of her fattening daily treat, what was stopping her from running to her bathroom and flushing it before Courtney returned? She threw back the edge of her blanket, eager to enact her covert plan while she still had the opportunity, then paused, still gripping the glass. 

If Abigail found out about this, as illogical and far-fetched as that concern may be, Lindsey's punishment would be enormous. And on top of that, poor Courtney would also be punished despite the fact that the only reason that Lindsey had an opportunity to skip out on a required meal was because Courtney was being kind to her, was circumventing Abigail's rules for Lindsey's sake. Courtney receiving an out-of-house suspension for something like that would be egregiously unfair, but Lindsey wouldn't put it past Abigail. Her competitive nature knew no rest, could interpret no nuance, and in the pursuit of a win, Lindsey had seen Abigail grow illogical, turn on those who were supporting her. It just wouldn't be fair. 

Lindsey took a small, investigatory sniff of the shake, then found herself taking a sip before she realized what she was doing, her habit of chugging the shake to rid herself of the task as quickly as possible kicking in. She took another sip, sighed, then began to steadily chug the thick, sugary liquid, feeling her already full belly expand and grow tight as she chugged the fat-growing shake. She paused, took a gasp of air, then lifted the viscous drink back to her lips, feeling the sticky cream slide down her throat with each gulp and her head emptying of all other thoughts as she focused on her breathing to properly down her prescribed shake. 

Her hand dropped unconsciously to her belly as she continued her methodically swallows and she swore she felt it bloating and growing into her open palm, her middle protruding further and further as the cream she was pouring down her throat met with all the food she’d put away the day before, making her inflate like a greedy little ballon. 

She took another break for air, groaning as she did so, and continued to press her open palm into her bloated little ball of a gut, moaning with each touch and marveling at just how hard and round her stomach got so quickly, how she was always so perpetually full that a few minutes of stuffing her face left her middle as hard as a rock. Sucking in with a belly that full was painful, which meant that for the last three days, Lindsey hadn't engaged her ab muscles at all and let her bloat bulge out unencumbered, making her growing gut appear even larger and more visible than it already was. 

As she rubbed her gut, continuing to groan, she couldn't believe that the body she was touching was really hers. That she was allowing this to be done to her. That she was doing it to herself. She frowned, upended the glass above her mouth, and downed the rest of the shake in a few quick gulps, letting out two loud, long burps and wiping white drips of excess cream from the corners of her mouth......

*I hope you enjoyed the chapter snippet! For the full 21,000+ word story you can check out my Patreon! I have a ton of tier options for whatever you may be looking for, and you can find weight gain stories, weight gain series, weight gain audios, weight gain POVs, and even personalized weight gain commission. Thanks so much for reading:)*

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[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)

[allfattenedup]

Part of a wg story I found in my drafts:

· · ─────── · 🐷 · ─────── · ·

"If you'll let me, I'll make sure you never stop feeling like this," you whisper, suddenly tender, kneeling on the couch next to me, halfway to straddling.

"Like what?" I ask, voice rough with want as I look down. I've never been able to eat myself this big on my own. I've never even seen myself this big. My cheeks burn as I carefully feel the heavy sides of my new gut.

"On fire," you whisper, watching me explore what you've done to me. "Every nerve lit up.

"You're great, and this is..." My head falls back in pleasure against the back of the couch, hands pressed to either side of the belly that doesn't feel like mine. Heavy and full. So, so big. "..this is incredible. But if we keep doing this, I'm going to..." I bite my lip. The thought is hot. Too hot. Way way too hot, too dangerous. I can't let myself get swept away in it. "This was supposed to be a one-time thing," I protest half-heartedly.

"I know." You nod, sweetly massaging a roll, and I gasp, face crumpling in ecstasy. "And it can be... if you want it to." "No." The word comes out to my dismay, but I can't keep it in. This can't be the only time we do this. The thought of it slipping through my fingers makes my voice urgent. "No, please. Just... a little more."

"Okay," you coo, kissing down my cheek, my slightly soft jaw. "But you know that if you keep seeing me, you're going to get fat, right?" Your breath is so hot on my ear, and you nip at my earlobe. "You're going to get very... very fat."

My head spins. My belly throbs. I can't breathe. "...yes."

"Are you ready for that?"

I swallow, and decide to answer honestly. "I don't think so."

"But...?"

"But I don't care." The desperate need in my rough whisper alarms even me.

You lean forward and kiss my nose. We're so close, I can feel the heat of your body radiating into mine. "Thank you for being honest," you whisper, and your hand moves excruciatingly slowly from gently rubbing a roll, around to settle on the straining front of my belly, and you place your palm flat, slowly beginning to rub circles. "You don't have to worry. I'm taking care of you now. I'll make you nice and fat, and if you get embarrassed, I'll make you feel good. Okay?”

“Okay.” I gasp, arching up what little I can into your hand.

“And if you get nervous - about how fast you’re changing, or any of it - I’ll just push a nice treat past those lips and you’ll remember you’re my docile little fat pet. Won’t you?”

“Yes.” "We'll get you a nice heavy belly," you promise, sliding the rest of the way onto my lap, sharing it with the gut you've already started to put on me, and drag over the bag of chocolates. "Don't you worry."

[feeder86]

Fixing the Feeder

“Who’s that?” Hendrix asked his new friends as he gazed around the gay venue he was visiting for the first time. Having recently moved here for his job, Hendrix had arrived alone that night and quickly started introducing himself to the group of men who seemed most likely to visit the club on a regular basis. The guy he was asking about was clearly very attractive, with a tall, slender frame and pretty face. However, that wasn’t the reason why Hendrix’s interest had been piqued. It was the fact that such a handsome guy stood all alone and, unless Hendrix had been very much mistaken, he’d just seen him checking out a couple of the softer chubs in the corner.

Collectively, the guys all pulled a face. “That’s Felix!” one replied. “We don’t talk to him.”

Hendrix’s face lit up with intrigue; the cogs in his head were already whirring.

“He dated Lee, one of our friends,” another explained to Hendrix. “He was already quite a big guy, but he absolutely ballooned when he was with Felix.”

“And you think Felix was the reason for that?” Hendrix asked, pleased that his predictions had been exactly right.

“Definitely!” jumped in another. “We could all see what he was up to, with his cream cakes and fast food. Then, the moment we convinced Lee to go for the gastric band, Felix finished with him, just like that!”

“Oh, really?” Hendrix asked, taking another look over at the pretty boy in question. “That’s not cool,” he agreed. “So you think he’s a feeder, huh?”

“We know he’s a feeder,” came the swift reply. “And now everyone else does. He can’t hide it any more.”

“So you’re able to warn those you see him getting close to?” Hendrix smirked, knowing that he had chosen the exact right people to make friends with that night in order to learn all he could about the crowds in here.

“Absolutely!” they all nodded, like a team of justice warriors; their cold stares fixed firmly on Felix; the enemy walking amongst them.

“Well, well… it sucks to be you!” Hendrix chuckled as he headed to the bar an hour or so later and caught Felix on his own once more. He smirked at the guy, knowing he himself had already picked up the number of a deliciously doughy-looking chub he’d seen Felix staring longingly at earlier. “You’re about as popular as herpes around here,” he stated without sympathy.

“It won’t last forever,” Felix replied, seeming to instinctively know that he was talking with a kindred spirit after eyeballing Hendrix flirting with the fat boy he had been so keen on. “People soon forget these things.”

Hendrix couldn’t help but laugh at Felix’s naivety. “I don’t think they do,” he scoffed. “Dumping your boyfriend because he was going for a gastric band? You exposed yourself to everyone,” he explained unsympathetically. “Sure, they may have had suspicions before about you being a feeder, but you made damn sure to give them the final nail to seal your coffin.”

Felix grunted bitterly, but he couldn’t deny the truth of what Hendrix was saying. “So, that means more fat boys for you then, huh?” he asked. “Your biggest competition has been eliminated from the game.”

Smirking once more, Hendrix looked Felix up and down. Yes, the boy was handsome, but it was Hendrix’s upper body strength that made sure he never lost out when it came to picking up the guys he wanted. Felix thought of himself as his competition? In Hendrix’s experience, guys always chose the ‘muscle stud’ over the ‘pretty boy’ every time. He collected his drinks, heading straight back to the fat boy he planned to take home later, looking back over his shoulder to ensure that Felix was watching as he placed a hand on the chub’s deliciously soft, under-exercised butt: the first of many fatties that he planned to fuck around here.

The next day, Hendrix squirted a little extra aftershave on himself as he got ready for his new job. He already knew that he was going to smash it. He’d consistently been the most successful car salesman since his second month at the last dealership he’d worked at. Now, moving up to the higher end of the market, the commission he was about to start earning would at last give him the life he deserved. Tight pants never hurt, nor shirts that showed off his excellent muscular physique. It was a fine balance, making himself look handsome enough to attract the female market, yet with a clear muscular athleticism that would encapsulate how the male customers aspired to be and ensure that they felt free to talk sports with him as he guided them towards a hefty sale.

Nothing had surprised Hendrix on that first day, apart from the identity of the pretty-looking dude, sitting in the accountancy office. It couldn’t be, surely? Felix, the fallen feeder, worked here too? He’d smirked and shaken the guy’s hand, keeping up the pretense that they had never met before. What a small world they lived in, he laughed to himself, staring back over his shoulder from the main floor and noticing that Felix was staring back through the glass walls that separated him from where the real work happened.

The mechanics in the back were friendly enough, if a little quick to grumble about how the site was managed. But Hendrix was a natural at smooth talk and soon ingratiated himself with them all. Within two hours of being there, he’d made his first sale: a company record.

It wasn’t until Day 4 that the new golden boy, Hendrix, found himself unaccompanied as he grabbed a coffee from the back room. That was when Felix crept in. “Hello again,” the man smiled, as if pleased that they were both able to speak freely at last. “How did things go with the chub after you left on Saturday?”

Hendrix laughed as he poured himself a cup from the machine; of course that was going to be Felix’s first question to him. “Pretty good!” he nodded, turning back around. “That doughy ass took a good pounding and there was plenty of decent back fat to grab onto.” He closed his eyes for a second, emphasising how perfect the memory of it was. “His whole body jiggled beautifully.”

Felix seemed to flush with arousal at the thought, surprised at how immediately open Hendrix was about it all. “Lucky you!” he mumbled.

“The foreplay was nice too,” Hendrix continued. “I squirted a can of cream over places and made him lick it all off,” he boasted. “Let’s just say… fat boy was VERY good at that part!”

“You like to feed them as well?” Felix asked, his eyes alert, as if this was the most important conversation he would have all day.

“Of course,” Hendrix nodded. “It’s rule number one in my book,” he explained. “When you fuck chubs, you’ve always gotta leave them a little bit fatter and softer for the next guy.”

Felix swallowed. “I hope that next guy is me,” he mumbled.

Once again, Hendrix chuckled, patronisingly patting Felix on his butt. “It won’t be!” he smirked. “After your little stunt, all the fatties know to stay well away from you.”

Sighing, it was somehow very obvious that Felix was turned on and frustrated. “I’ve gotta find some way to fix this,” he rambled, seeming as if he might burst if he didn’t get some fat boy action soon.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Hendrix gloated, putting his coffee on the table and throwing his large, muscular body down onto the couch, before fixing his hands at the back of his head and relaxing. “You’re just going to have to move somewhere very far away, where no one knows you,” he teased.

“How jiggly was his butt?” Felix asked next, sitting down with him and keen to return to hearing all about Hendrix’s experience.

“Very!” Hendrix grinned, happy to indulge the horny boy. “Great rippling when I thrusted against it! You know, like those fat boys who don’t do any exercise whatsoever. Although, he wasn’t that used to taking guys as big as me, so he squealed a little bit in places.”

There it was: the little boner pressing against Felix’s pants. He really was every bit as kinky as Hendrix, who smirked at the sight of it. This meant that there was an opportunity to be exploited, should Hendrix play things very carefully…

“We should go for a drink after work; compare notes on the fatties we’ve had,” Hendrix suggested next, already lifting his great body up with a nonchalance that suggested Felix’s answer would mean little to him either way.

“Sure!” Felix shot back, not getting up from the couch and knowing full well that he would have to stay down for a little while longer; until the hardness retreated.

Hendrix had never spoken so openly about his experiences of being with chubs as he did that evening with Felix. He suddenly found that he had a way with words and storytelling that made each and every one of them sound so sexually charged and erotic; he could see Felix hanging on his every word.

“So, he actually ate it all?” Felix laughed, hearing the end to yet another of Hendrix’s kinky tales.

“Of course he did!” Hendrix nodded. “Look at me. Would you deny a stud like me anything if I asked it? He gobbled it all down straight away, then couldn’t button his pants the next day. It was so fucking cute!”

“That’s amazing!” Felix smiled, his eyes full of awe.

Hendrix checked his watch, sighing as if it was getting late. “Shall we sort that out?” he asked casually, pointing down at Felix’s bulging erection that hadn’t gone down all evening.

Felix looked surprised at being asked, yet Hendrix’s tales had wound him up enough that there was no chance of him saying no. He was one of those men who just seemed so much more malleable when he was horny. Soon, he was back at Hendrix’s new place, dropping his pants and relieved to finally have someone stroking his dick at long last.

Hendrix was determined that it shouldn’t be a quick fix, despite how desperate Felix seemed to want to climax, slapping the guy’s hand away each time he seemed to grab his own hardness in an attempt to make himself finish. He could see why the fatties had fallen for him. Felix had a fine body, with cute, pert little glutes that Hendrix knew he would need to stick his dick between soon. It was how he came, twenty minutes later, ploughing his harness into the delighted Felix whilst the guy lay on his front, pressed into the bed. 

After climaxing, Hendrix rolled them both onto their sides, still keeping himself fully erect and inserted. He moved quickly, reaching behind the pillow to where he had stealthily hidden a can of whipped cream. “It’s your turn!” he whispered, knowing just how achingly horny the boy was by that point. He couldn’t see his reaction as he took in the can of cream, but Felix would have been naive if he hadn’t known this was coming. “You know my rule…” Hendrix whispered, inserting the nozzle between the guy’s lips. “If I fuck them, I fatten them.”

There was a click as the fresh can sprang into life. Felix’s submissive mouth was filling with cream whilst Hendrix slid his other large hand up and down the guy’s shaft. This was it: the moment Felix was at last going to be allowed to climax. The boy swallowed and swallowed, desperate for Hendrix to keep on working his erection and not stop. He seemed to intuitively know that every scrap of pleasure Hendrix provided would be conditional upon this one concession of his: swallow the cream down.

Hendrix chuckled, unable to help how amusing he found it all. “Good boy!” he cooed into Felix’s ear as he felt the hardness pulse and almost quiver; the can of whipped cream getting lighter by the second as it was mercilessly pumped down Felix’s throat. There was something so pathetically sexy about the way a guy would relax when this was done; their bodies limp and full of complete unjustified trust in him as Hendrix brought the inevitable explosion closer and closer. Felix whimpered as his erection spluttered and then shot out forcefully across Hendrix’s sheets, making quite the mess. Only the tiniest amount remained in the can, which Hendrix quickly scurried away so that he didn’t see. By the way Felix was looking at him, mouth agape, Hendrix knew that he had just given the guy the best orgasm of his life.

The next day, Hendrix’s only contact with Felix had been to nod at him in mutual appreciation of the very large, deliciously overfed guy who came into the showroom: legs of pure blubber and an ass that was bordering on being too big to be accommodated in the seats of the cars, Hendrix knew that this was a body that they both could drool over. Despite having a sixth sense that the guy didn’t have the money to be a serious buyer, Hendrix indulged the man for a full forty minutes, delaying the inevitable chat about finance options which always sent them running. 

“Why does Felix keep looking over here?” complained one of Hendrix’s new friends at the gay club that weekend. 

“Oh,” smirked Hendrix. “That’ll be me,” he chuckled. “It turns out we’re now colleagues. He works in the finance department of my new showroom.”

“Unlucky you!” growled another. He hadn’t stopped scowling at Felix since he’d first come in.

“He’s developed a bit of a thing for me,” Hendrix went on to explain. “Not that you can blame him!” he winked at them all.

“He’s bad news,” warned Pete, the oldest of the group.

Hendrix nodded in falsely sympathetic agreement. “But I know how to handle guys like Felix. Plus, it might be good to give him a taste of his own medicine…” he laughed, looking squarely at Pete. “Get some revenge for your friend, Lee.”

The guys all leaned in closer; every last one of them. “What were you thinking?”

“No luck this evening?” Hendrix asked half an hour later, strolling over to Felix.

Felix appeared delighted to have Hendrix beside him. He shook his head. “Just the usual chubs,” he replied, without glancing to double check.

“That’s a shame,” Hendrix smiled. “You’ll have to come home with me instead,” he offered, placing his large hand on Felix’s slender butt as if he owned it.

Electricity seemed to crackle in Felix’s eyes. “That doesn’t seem like a bad consolation prize,” he mumbled back, his voice breaking slightly. When Hendrix held out his hand, Felix took it, allowing himself to be led out of the club; completely oblivious to the amount of knowing eyes that were upon him.

“Who the hell is that?” asked Felix, hearing someone knocking at the front door some time later as he made out with Hendix on his couch.

Hendrix lifted himself up and pulled out his wallet to tip the delivery person, returning to Felix’s side holding two large boxes of meat and cheese-filled pizzas. “You know my rule,” he grinned, opening the box and letting out a plume of delicious scents, “If I fuck them, I fatten them…”

Felix raised his eyebrows, as if trying to work out when Hendrix had even had time to order pizzas since they had arrived back at his place. He wriggled nervously in his seat, unsure whether he should lie back or sit up. Meanwhile, Hendrix set to work stimulating the guy’s little dick, ensuring it was pumped and ready for some kinky fun. “Alright… maybe just a bit of pizza,” he conceded. 

In Hendrix’s experience, in order to flip a feeder, you needed three things: a definite, unrelenting admiration of fat guys, a potential submissive streak, and a super hard, easily excited dick. That last one had become tonight’s focus. Hendrix worked that sensitive muscle between Felix’s legs with a cherishing love, knowing that it was the key to everything that would come next. If Felix had ever been a feeder of any sort of substance, he should have realised how keenly Hendrix was educating himself on how best to stimulate his dick: the grip strength, the speed of the stroke, the positioning. If he could edge him well enough, he knew he could make Felix do anything he wanted in time. Tonight, Felix wanted to climax, there was no doubt about that. Hendrix just had to make sure that he had maximum results on the calories front before that happened.

Three weeks into all this and Hendrix knew that Felix was ready for the chat. He’d witnessed a slight softening in the torso and a subtle broadening in the guy’s rear. “You know I’m going to get bored of all this soon, unless I start seeing some results?” He shrugged his shoulders, looking at Felix earnestly. “I am what I am,” he sighed. “A feeder soon gets bored without some blubber to play with.”

His timing had been good, with Felix having spent the last 30 minutes sucking on cream and getting pounded until he practically exploded everywhere. It was obvious from the soppy eyed expressions Felix gave him that no one had ever pleasured the boy quite like this. “I’m up five pounds,” he tried to answer.

Hendrix scoffed. “Five pounds?” he repeated back to him, as if emphasising how pathetic it sounded. “You know what I am,” he whispered smoothly, sliding down the bed and spooning the naked guy until Hendrix’s semi-erection nestled back between Felix’s butt cheeks, where it belonged. “I want a piggy!”

“I’ve never thought about gaining myself,” Felix replied quietly.

“Until now…” Hendrix reminded him, kissing the back of his head sweetly. “You can’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed those five extra pounds I’ve put on you.” His hand reached into Felix’s groin, feeling that the guy was indeed getting hard again. Slowly, he began to tug it, knowing how much more malleable the boy became when he was horny. In reality, the guy should have been wise to this sort of manipulation, were he really as adept at feeding as he had previously claimed to be in his previous relationship.

Felix moaned in agreement, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“And you want to put on more weight for me, don’t you?” Hendrix asked him, pushing a much firmer erection back inside him. “You want to make me proud to fuck you, right?”

Felix’s body completely relaxed, enjoying the submission as he prepared to be fucked once more. “Yes,” he whispered diligently back, as if hardly comprehending what a momentous milestone he had just passed.

Over the years, Hendrix had met a few guys like Felix; sling a hard dick inside them and they gave in entirely. The only difference here was the fantastic, instant access Hendrix had to Felix for so much of the week. Hendrix could whip up his most devious calorie shakes, then chuckle as he’d watch Felix discovering it in his desk drawer at work; slowly sucking it all down throughout the morning in the hope that Hendrix may pleasure him in the bathroom come lunchtime.

“You’ll see when he comes in,” Hendrix boasted to his friends at the gay bar. “His face is puffing up quite a bit and those tight little glutes of his have swollen out somewhat!”

“Is he actually getting a belly?” asked Pete, surprisingly thrilled by Hendrix’s genius plan to enact revenge for them all.

Hendrix considered for a second. “It’s more of a paunch than a belly. But if you want me to put a gut on him, I can definitely make that work,” he smiled obligingly.

The whole gang chuckled, nodding their heads. “Do it!” they cried, as if this was all one giant, elaborate prank.

Hendrix sighed, pretending to find this to be one long, tedious homework assignment; as if he was doing all this out of a kindness to them all. “Very well,” he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

When Felix arrived twenty minutes later, Hendrix was delighted with the fit of the guy’s pants, stretching across the broader, softer glutes. Even in the middle of the bar, Hendrix couldn’t resist gently stroking the tubbier rear, knowing that the eyes of everyone were watching his every move. He paraded the boy for a good thirty minutes, before slowly guiding him out; taking him back home to fatten and fuck him; much like every night.

“I’ll tell you who’s packed on a few pounds recently,” grunted Roy, one of the mechanics in the back. “Have you noticed Felix’s stomach recently?” he asked Hendrix and a couple of the other guys as they took a few moments outside to chat at the end of the lunch break.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” nodded another mechanic. “He’s starting with a right little beer gut,” he agreed.

“Well, what do you expect?” Hendrix shrugged. “The guy sits on his butt at a computer screen all day,” he explained, rolling his eyes as if Felix was nothing more than lazy. “He’s not up on his feet all day like we are.”

The other guys nodded, feeling that, despite whatever the admin-pushers like Felix believed, it was really their hard graft that kept this place running. “I have a cousin who ballooned after he got an office job,” agreed one. “It’s not good for you at all.”

At that moment, Felix appeared from around the corner; his portly little stomach straining the buttons of his shirt after quietly consuming two of the calorie shakes Hendrix had left for him that day. He called across to one of them, asking if certain parts had arrived so that he could finish writing up an invoice, then spun back around, giving them all a perfect view of his thicker glutes. Once out of earshot, the guys all looked at each other and burst out laughing. There was no doubt about it: Felix was slowly becoming quite the fat boy.

Perhaps Felix hadn’t even noticed how much more he was able to eat over the coming weeks and months, but the change had been nothing if not deliberate. With each kinky act of foreplay, Hendrix had slowly raised his expectations for what he expected Felix to consume. The fat itself was packing on beautifully across Felix’s sides, giving him deliciously cute, plump-looking love handles that completely altered his previously slender shape. Simply watching them emerge had given Hendrix a thrill unlike any other.

“Time to step on the scales,” Hendrix cooed, rousing Felix from his sleep that Sunday morning.

Felix groaned a little and rolled over in bed. It had only been four hours since he had been woken and fondled until he was horny enough to swallow down a gainer shake for Hendrix in the middle of the night. Ultimately, however, he was a good boy, dragging himself out of bed for a quick bathroom stop before the scales were ceremoniously brought out in front of Hendrix’s full-length mirror.

“Look at you!” Hendrix marvelled, admiring the way the blubber had continued to spread itself around Felix’s waist that week. There was no denying the fact that the guy was getting little moobs, with even the tops of his arms starting to puff up in a way that only happened with a consistent period of prolonged weight gain. Hendrix pulled down the tight boxer shorts that Felix had slept in, noticing all the little marks where they had been quietly digging into his plushier flesh. 

A lover of fat, even Felix couldn’t help getting hard as he saw it all and felt Hendrix’s large hands bouncing his heavier glutes up and down. His thighs had taken on quite a lot of fresh lard the last couple of weeks, making even Felix’s most resistant clothes absolutely redundant.

“Are you ready to find out how fat you are today?” Hendrix whispered into the boy’s ear, playing with Felix’s dick to ensure he was super turned on before he saw the new number on the scales. It had been a good week for gains, that much Hendrix was sure of; the traces of Felix’s former slender 145lb body slowly disappearing.

Felix nodded and stepped on; his cute little double chin showing itself as he looked down over the top of his developing gut at the building numbers. Two weeks ago, he had crossed 200lbs for the first time. Now the numbers were crossing that threshold with ease: 208…211… higher and higher.

“Fuck!” Felix gasped as it was obvious where the number was going to settle. He turned to Hendrix, catching the sparkling joy in his feeder’s eyes as. “How have I put on so much this week?”

“Because you’re a greedy little fucker,” Hendrix chuckled back, making his lover step off and onto the scales a further two times, just to be certain of the measurement. He grabbed a handful of lard from Felix’s stomach and held it proudly. “I’ll have another eight pounds on you next week as well,” he declared. He’d practically moved Felix in to get these sorts of gains on him, but with results like these, it had all been absolutely worth it.

Hendrix turned Felix back to the mirror, grabbing the boy’s hands and making it grab onto the flesh blubber. He took a step back, watching the former feeder’s love of fat start to wash over him. Felix’s own hands touched all those areas a feeder could never resist. Felix jiggled and bounced himself, raising his arms to admire the new love handles and twisted to see the remarkable transformation of his butt. The boy had always loved seeing fatter bodies, but it was obvious that he had never anticipated the next chubby body he got to play with would be his own. The guy’s dick was so irredeemably hard, Hendrix couldn’t help but laugh. This fatty had the potential to be taken all the way.

Hendrix was greeted as a hero as he strolled about in the gay bar a couple of months later. Whenever Felix went off to the bathroom, someone would come up and pat him on the back, telling him what an amazing job he had done teaching the guy a lesson. They spoke as if it was all done, as if the love handles and the double chin that Felix now owned were the end of the road. To Hendrix, it seemed like the most ridiculous concept to simply stop there. 

“He’s quite a greedy boy, y’know,” he told them all with a grin. “He almost seems oblivious to how much he overeats now. I definitely don’t think he’s done growing yet. That fat ass of his is pretty much made from pure ice cream!” he chuckled.

The guys nodded. They couldn’t help but notice the ridiculous shape of Felix’s glutes in the tight pants he’d worn that night. “Well, no one can deny that you’re committed to the cause!” they’d laugh back.

Hendrix smirked and nodded, spotting Felix making his way back towards him. “Karma’s a bitch!” he winked at them conspiratorially as they all drifted away once more, leaving Hendrix to play his games with Felix.

“How come they all still love you so much?” Felix asked, frowning at the fact that his lover was always so popular here. “Look at how much weight I’ve gained! Surely they must know that you’re a feeder?”

Hendrix laughed, slipping his large hand over Felix’s heavy glutes, rubbing and patting them with pride; the feature he most adored on Felix’s overweight body. It felt even more erotic to enjoy touching him like this in here, where everyone had known his previously slim physique so well before. “I’m just a bit cleverer than you,” he whispered back. “I could turn you into a literal mountain of lard and still have them love me.”

“But, how?” Felix pressed, having his fat stomach rubbed by Hendrix right there in the middle of the bar. He clearly could not comprehend how easily his lover was simply getting away with it all, whilst he himself had been ostricised. 

“Oh, it’s even better than that!” Hendrix smiled, pulling out a coupon for the ice cream joint down the street. “You wouldn’t believe how many of them keep giving things like this to me. They’re all so ridiculously fixated on disliking you that they don’t even realise what I am.” He laughed as he looked around at the faces in the bar. “They all think they’re in on it.”

“They do?” Felix asked in surprise, realising that he’d never quite understood the status Hendrix had in this bar. “No one is trying to stop you? At all?”

“Not one!” Hendrix smiled victoriously. “I’ve got free rein to do with you as I like,” he whispered, resuming his stroking of Felix’s oversized rear once more. “So I’m going to keep adding pounds and pounds and pounds of pure blubber to you. Then I’ll watch as it slowly dawns on them all how they all foolishly enabled and encouraged me…”

Felix looked around, clearly noticing how admired Hendrix was in here. “How long do you think that will take?” he asked, sceptically.

Hendrix smirked again. “Who knows?” he laughed. “Another one hundred pounds… two hundred… Hell, I might need to fatten you up forever in order for them to realise they invited an actual feeder into their circle of trust.”

“You really want to keep going that far?” Felix asked, stroking the back of his head nervously.

“Let me ask you, would you have ever stopped fattening your ex if he hadn’t wanted surgery?”

Felix looked a little sheepish. “No, I guess not,” he mumbled.

Hendrix nodded. “Exactly!” he declared. “Once you’ve sunk your claws into a fatty, there’s no letting go!”

Sometimes, there was a misty eyed look that Felix gave whenever Hendrix let out his most harsh and blunt thoughts. A lust would come over him that was so obvious to Hendrix. The guy became putty in his hand; ready to be pushed and cajoled in any direction Hendrix wanted. 

“How about we get out of here, Piggy?” Hendrix whispered into Felix’s ear. “I’m in the mood to watch you gorge yourself into oblivion tonight!”

Despite the kinkiness of their situation, Hendrix was genuinely delighted to have Felix in his life. Not only was he the guy who was the most sexually compatible with him, but he was also genuinely quite sweet and thoughtful once all his kinks were being managed. However, untamed, Hendrix could see what a nightmare the boy would have been to date previously. Just like Hendrix, he could get turned on at the drop of a hat, and Hendrix could imagine how slyly manipulative he would have been to push calories onto his former lovers. Now, whenever he got horny, he would take himself off to the well stocked kitchen cupboards and rip open a box of something tasty, feeding himself as Hendrix watched on with pleasure. It definitely helped that he too had once been a feeder. He had at least some understanding of how Hendrix’s brain worked. He knew how to dress himself to emphasise those gains and could wrap Hendrix’s fingers around those fleshier regions of his body that no feeder could resist touching.

“I never imagined I’d one day be over three hundred pounds!” Felix laughed to himself, admiring his fat body in the mirror as Hendrix climbed into the bed behind him.

“Well, believe it, buddy!” Hendrix laughed, enjoying the sight of Felix’s round, chubby glutes. For him, the boy was just entering the sweet stage, where even his hips were starting to pile on the pounds, altering his shape into that of a man of more extreme obesity. He was blowing up out of everything he had worn in the last few months; older stretch marks fading and newer ones coming in. There was something so comical about a guy with nipples drooping like Felix’s had started to do; the way the fat was spreading into his chest and bulging under his arms; those fat-filled upper arms and the complete domination of fat under his chin. “I’ve got plenty more pounds I want to add to you!” he grinned, smiling at the indestructible hardness that was straining from Felix’s body, even as a sizable pouch of fat pressed it down slightly in the guy’s groin. His body rippled and jiggled as he strutted over to the bed, the blubber spreading out onto the mattress once he finally lay down. He didn’t flinch as Hendrix reached across to his bedside table and picked up the nightly calorie shake, inserting the nozzle into Felix’s mouth.

Felix moaned, rubbing his little dick as he swallowed and swallowed. A lot of the time, he would simply gaze submissively into Hendrix’s eyes as he did this; adoring the muscular stud, freshly returned from his evening gym session, ready to play. It was the perfect lifestyle for him. Hendrix didn’t ask anything more of him than this: the blissful act of consuming and growing for him. And so he drank every last drop as if this was all he had ever wanted for himself.

One of the things that had bonded Hendrix and Felix together so much was their shared experience of growing up with undeniably crappy parents. The only major difference was that Hendrix had picked himself up and moved his entire life away from all that, whilst Felix had remained close by, keeping them at arm’s length. 

Not having to worry about impressing Felix’s super religious parents had certainly given Hendrix a freedom he would not have otherwise had as the date approached when he would have to meet them both. “You know what I love about you?” Hendrix smiled, watching his lover gorging his breakfast that morning. “You’re a great little stress eater!”

Felix smiled faintly. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he shrugged.

“It’s the first time your parents have seen you since you turned into such a fatty,” Hendrix bluntly replied, stroking the broad back of his three hundred and fifty pound lover and already plotting how many extra calories he could get into Felix that morning whilst he was in this heightened state.

“Is my large black sweater out of the wash?” Felix asked.

Hendrix rolled his eyes. “You’re planning on wearing that?” he sighed disappointedly, knowing just as well as Felix did that it was the one item of clothing that best disguised that impeccable size of Felix’s stomach.

“What else would I wear today?” Felix shot back.

“The pink sweater?” Hendrix shrugged.

Felix couldn’t hold back his laughter. “No way!” he chuckled. “That thing stopped fitting weeks ago, You only like it because it makes me look enormous!”

“You are enormous,” Hendrix shrugged again. “What’s the point in trying to hide it? I’m proud of how fat you are. I want people to see it.”

Felix smiled back, feeling a closeness with Hendrix he had never experienced in a relationship before. Sometimes it seemed like it was the two of them versus the entire world. He nodded as Hendrix planted a loving kiss on the top of his head. “Alright then,” he sighed. “I guess we’re really doing this…”

A few hours later, the two men tumbled through the apartment door, wrapped around each other and desperately trying to remove their clothes in a fit of steamy lust. The meeting couldn’t have gone worse and, consequently, it could not have inflamed both their kinks more. Felix’s parents had been in complete shock at the size of their boy, referring to Felix as a ‘fat pig’ and a ‘fatty.’ They’d been disgusted at how much Felix had ordered to eat and had called Hendrix out as they could see him trying to slyly push more food onto their son. Hendrix had loved every second of it, agreeing with them that he enjoyed the shape of Felix’s body and even thanking them for raising a son with such a hearty appetite. For the first time, Felix had let himself go in front of them, feeling strong with Hendrix by his side. The shock and horror on the older couple’s faces when Hendrix had told them about their musing about getting married. It wasn’t enough that they staunchly disagreed with gay men getting married, but the idea of their boy tethering himself to a feeder had almost sent them into a blind panic, leaving the table just as the main course was arriving.

The two men had stayed behind, with Felix quietly coached into consuming both of his parents’ meals as they further discussed the idea of getting married should Hendrix get the dream job he wanted in Seattle. All that eating, the talk of commitment and the exciting plans; it had sent them both into a spiralling horniness that could not be undone. The failed catch-up with Felix’s folks had proven one thing: they needed to live their lives for themselves, and no one else.

Back at the bar a few weeks later, the distrust of Hendrix had never been more apparent. Despite throwing the rug from under them by announcing that he was leaving town, the fact that he was taking Felix with him, and had even become engaged to him had completely thrown them all. At last, they could see what they had been a part of. Hendrix had never really cared about the things that had gone on before he arrived, He’d simply been riding a wave that had allowed him complete freedom to get his kicks in exactly the same way Felix had in the past.

Everyone had been polite, despite the many things that they may have been muttering to themselves under their breath as Felix’s ass crack and underbelly became more and more visible as the beers went down. One thing was for certain: these two freaks deserved each other. 

“No regrets?” Hendrix asked, finally sitting himself down next to Felix on their new couch, overlooking the Seattle skyline from the large window.

“None,” beamed Felix back.

The pair kissed sweetly before Hendrix pulled out his cell phone. “Well then, I guess it’s time to start trying out some of these new take out places,” he chuckled. “Buckle up, Fat Boy! You’re in for a tough few weeks ahead!”

[envihellbender]

Gerry feeding Michael

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Gerry Keay, Michael Shelley

Content: feedee Michael, feeder Gerry, affectionate feedism

Summary: Gerry worries Michael isn’t eating enough.

When Gerry first met Michael he had been horrifically underfed, Gerry remembered sitting there in the Magnus Institute to make a statement directly to Michael. This man around his own age was far taller than him, but he was so thin Gerry could see two collarbones poking not behind his white shirt. He wasn’t entirely sure when he started ‘feeding’ Michael exactly, it was subtler than that. Their first dates weren’t in restaurants but they always seemed to end up eating. It wasn’t anything special, a Chinese takeaway with a film, an Italian restaurant not far from Michael’s flat, or something like that, but it always ended up happening. Gerry ate his share, his soft belly straining against his ripped jeans, but he always made sure that Michael was filled to the brim.

On good days Michael was so stuffed after the meal that he couldn’t even stand up, Gerry was more than happy to guide him, and tried to ignore the way his small cock began to grow against his jeans. It wasn’t because of the fact that Gerry couldn’t help but get excited watching Michael eat, he had to tell himself repeatedly. He wasn’t manipulating him or pusrhing him into something he didn’t want. Anyway, the important thing was, Gerry thought, that Michael had slowly gone from being sore, cold, permanently hungry, to a strange warmth and surrounding growing muscle and fat that protected his joints. Regardless of the enjoyment that was received from it, Michael’s diet was clearly improving greatly.

They didn’t really discuss the matter until Gerry started staying at Michael’s more permanently. Gerry supposed he moved in, it was more a case of he needed somewhere to stay and someone to keep him hidden from his mother. Michael was more than happy to help, and it wasn’t as if they didn’t both enjoy the mutual domesticity. That was when Gerry got a real insight to what Michael ate, Gerry noticed that Michael tended to skip breakfast, grabbing a drink from the coffee shop on the way. When Gerry asked, Michael said evasively said he grabbed whatever he could whenever he could. Gerry wasn’t satisfied with this. He didn’t intend to do anything behind Michael’s back, but if they were living together he might as well pull his weight. He began doing the food shopping, he ensured the cupboards were full - since Gerry was there even when Michael was on work trips there was no need to worry about the food going rotten. Gerry was extremely strict with sell by dates due to worry that the Corruption would work its way in.

Gerry began getting up earlier than usual, making breakfast for him and Michael. He noticed that when his appetite was peaked, Michael tended to eat quite a lot. At first Gerry made bowls of cereal for them both, then he added some toast, on a Friday he made pancakes. After a few weeks, Gerry made all three for one morning. Michael ate it all without even paying attention, and barely noticed when he slipped the lunch Gerry had made for him into the extremely roomy pocket of his duffle coat along with a handful of chocolate bars for the other pocket. When Michael got home there was a buffet spread out on the dining table so that he could graze and pick as he liked. Gerry found that he spent most of his life cooking but he liked nothing more than seeing Michael stuff his face whilst he would tell Gerry about his day. He sprayed crumbs everywhere, and swallowed in big mouthfuls which caused him to cough a little each time. By the end of the time he was slumped on the sofa before getting ready for bed, his gut poked out from underneath his shirt and he unbuttoned the fly of his trousers to let his belly pour out into his lap.

“Hey, can we talk?” Michael asked suddenly as Gerry began washing up. He didn’t like to sit still, so the moment they’d finished eating he jumped out of his seat and collecting the plates and cutlery. Michael was sat, his face a little chubbier than it had been that morning and his shirt was straining, becoming tight against his belly.

“Sure, what’s on your mind, babe?” Gerry asked, he glanced towards Michael, his throat grew dry as he saw how full and wheezing Michael was.

“Are you… so I don’t know if you have noticed but I’ve gained… some weight, recently?”

“Yeah? I guess so? Never thought about it.” Gerry was lying, obviously but he hoped it was noncommittal enough that his thoughts on the subject were not revealed yet.

“Yeah. I guess, you’ve been cooking for me… a lot more. I enjoy it, but maybe it’s too much? Maybe I’m eating too much?”

“I mean, do you want to diet or-”

“No! No, I don’t. I love-I love the meals you make and I like gaining but-”

“Gaining? Like, as in…”

“The kink,” Michael interrupted, a sly little smile filling his face. “Yeah. Okay, i- you know when you were feeding me the cheesecake? I could feel you getting hard.”

“This isn’t- I wasn’t secretly feeding you up or getting of on-” Gerry started, his voice growing quick and harried.

“No no no, that’s not what I mean,” Michael interrupted. “I… Like it. Didn’t think I would, but I love having you fuss over me. Cook for me. Feed me. My body feeling too powerful for my clothes. Giving my dysphoria the finger by making my body look more genderless by- no. I was just wondering if… Maybe we should dedicate ourself to it more?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you to keep feeding me. Permanently.”

“Seriously?” Gerry dried his hands on a tea towel before he pulled out a chair to sit next to Michael. “You really okay with this?”

“I don’t feel the need to avoid my reflection anymore,” Michael smiled as one hand began rubbing the bare skin of his gut.

[emptyheadedhousecow]

still fat

900 words · 5 min read · emptyheadedhousecow.tumblr.com · November 2024

The funnel is empty. The blanket is dotted with crumbs. The pizza boxes are on the floor — there's a grease stain on the bedsheet where it had been carelessly placed half an hour ago, but that's a job for tomorrow. The box of aftercare chocolates is open and the best ones are already gone. It was hot, but the libido is gone now, and appetites are more than sated. Your feeder is curled up beside you, half-asleep already, small beside you, eclipsed by your mass. The pain has been kissed and rubbed away, but you're still swollen and stuffed, and most importantly, you're still fat.

They woke up before you. The pizza boxes are gone, and the funnel too; through the walls you hear the dishwasher churning, something sizzling on a stovetop, and fresh coffee being ground. There's a hunger brewing inside you already, but the stretchmarks on your sides are itching again, and the moisturiser is just out of reach. They'd jump at the chance to help, but it's not sexy right now, you just want the discomfort gone. You shift and roll, and build momentum, and grab the bottle, and then come crashing back down on the mattress in a breathless heap, your fat splayed out in exactly the same way it was before. You breathe, and recover, and you have to remind yourself, like every other morning, that your body has grown into something made of carbs and lard, even though everything else is back to normal, you're still fat.

Your day would be easy for anyone else, but everything is an ordeal for you. It seems like every time you shower you discover a new fold that needs to be cleaned and powdered. You need to catch your breath while washing your hair. You could wear clothes, if you wanted, but it's so much easier not to try, and you're increasingly unsure just how long it's been since you wore anything at all. Your feeder brings you all the food you could want, four meals a day or five if you're lucky... and you're grateful, of course you are, but not every meal is sex. You eat because you're hungry — a deep hunger that's only satisfied when you're pushed to breaking point — and you eat to shush, if only for a little while, that tiny voice inside you that's always demanding more more more. You knew this would happen; that every time you push yourself, your appetite grows a little... and you've pushed yourself a lot. You don't always eat because you want to, you eat because you HAVE to, because that's what a body as fat as yours craves, and day after day, you're still fat.

And then the funnel's back in play, and another order is lined up on the pizza app. Can you down the pitcher of cream before the pizzas arrives, and then the pizzas too? It's always an offer, never coerced. It was such a struggle last time, you only barely made it, but that only means it'll be easier now. And the tiny voice inside you can't be silenced, and the deep hunger is so very demanding, and it does drive you wild to see them this excited. You agree. You know you won't be able to stop yourself from pushing yourself to your limit, again, and you know that if you manage it, next time there might be another pizza on top, and that's far beyond what any normal person could eat, and as exciting as that is, you can't help but worry a little. But the preparations are underway, and your feeder's in the kitchen already, and all you need to do is eat, which you're amazing at, so this is just the best option, right? After all, you've done this a hundred times, what's one more? Tonight won't change anything, not really — either way, you're still fat.

The next day is always the same as the day before. Your feeder is dressed in a tenth of the time it takes you to shuffle to the edge of the bed and you're exhausted already. A kiss and a smile and you're helped to your feet, but you're not steady, and your balance is always unfamiliar, and it wasn't so long ago that it wouldn't even have occurred to you that you might need help getting up, and yet here it is, a development as casual as a second portion of breakfast. It ought to worry you but you are so very hungry, and the little voice is louder than your own thoughts these days, even though the pressure from last night's feast remains. Food is brought directly to the bedroom, once a rare treat but now the norm simply because it's getting harder to walk to the kitchen, even assisted. Getting dressed isn't an option anymore, for sure there's no clothes that still fit you, and that means no going outside, even in the car. Not that you've been outside in a long time. Perhaps you begin to slowly realise, if you hadn't been in denial about it already, that your last opportunity to lose the weight has quietly disappeared, who knows how long ago, and you never even noticed. But that doesn't seem nearly as important as finishing the plate of food that's in front of you. Maybe you'll get a chance to think about that later, maybe not — it feels like a very permanent fact of your life that you're still fat, forever.

[hungry-and-hornyyyyy]

Im going through a bit of a denial phase it seems, but when i stuff my fat face and think about being even bigger than this i cant pretend it doesn't make me so fucking wet. I really really need this, i know deep down im destined to be enormous, theres no denying it any longer, I'm a horny fat growing fuck pig who would submit herself to a gluttonous life of constant stuffing, constant huger, and the desire for constant pleasure that can only be satisfied with a huge fat growing body as proof of my hedonism

[jawwtin]

Piggy

Despite what you might say, you enjpy this word more than you think, don't you? You certainly enjoy the lifestyle that such a word implies, so why not give in some more? 🐖>;))

A new feedee encouragement audio, based on this story from a sadly deactivated account: