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extra-stout-stories · 3 months ago

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First Date / Creepy Cookies

When a BHM in Florida decides to take the plunge on a long-distance relationship with a witchy SSBBW FFA in New England, their first IRL encounter goes even better than he expected. (BHM to USSBHM, magical rapid weight gain, SSBBW feeder. Romantic, but spicy and mildly explicit. Lots of sexy descriptions of food. CW: Immobility, mobility aids.)

My first contribution to Feedist Kinktober '24! Reblog if you like it, and thanks as always to the mighty @fatguarddog for blessing us with an inspirational list of prompts. Last year I bit off more than I could chew and ended up with a folder of half-finished story ideas, so this year I'm only writing the ones where I feel inspired enough to knock a full story out in one go. Here's a sexy supernatural mutual gaining tale.

His belly hang bounced against the steering wheel as he stepped with a grunt out of the rental car. A compact car wasn't exactly comfortable for a guy his size, but it was a chance to save a little bit of money on the trip. If this works out it's going to be expensive, he thought to himself. Long distance sucks.

He adjusted his jacket against the October breeze. New England was a lot different from Florida. He wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of moving to somewhere he'd have to shovel snow in the winters, but he had to admit that at this time of year, the yellows and crimsons of the autumn foliage were beautiful like nothing he had ever seen.

And his date was like nobody he had ever met. It would be their first time meeting in person.

Dating as a 320 pound man was difficult enough, dating as a 320 pound man with a feeding fetish was more difficult still, and dating as a mutual gainer felt like the hardest thing of all. He was grateful that his last serious relationship had ended amicably; she was a Miami Beach gym bunny who loved the way her toned, tan body contrasted with his, and she had helped him break through a plateau at 300, but she grew increasingly frustrated that he couldn't reciprocate her attraction to him. Fortunately, they had managed to part without drama and stay friends, and he was happy to watch her pair off with a guy close to his size who was a much better fit for her. There was a text from her waiting when his plane touched down in Boston: "Good luck on your New England date! If she turns out to be a serial killer, text me and I'll come rescue you, k?"

But he wasn't too worried about that. Mostly he was worried that he wouldn't be as fat in person as his date expected. He was fat, of course, but he was also good at using camera angles to highlight his big belly and doughy double chin, making him look like a bigger SSBHM than he really was. And a part of him worried that the date would go too well. Plane tickets and a rental car weren't cheap, flying at his size was cramped and uncomfortable, and the drive north from Boston added another two and a half hours onto the trip. If things worked out, it wasn't going to be much fun trying to make a long-distance relationship work.

Still, it's worth a try. Nothing worth having in life comes easily. That's what he told himself as he took one last look at the scenery, the golden autumn colors mingling with evergreens this far north, the peak of Mount Washington in the distance already dusted with a layer of snow.

The Waterwheel Brewery was an old brick building at the edge of a ravine where a cold, clear waterfall splashed and foamed down a crack in the mountain granite. The rusty iron wheel that gave the brewpub its name was still there at the side of the ravine, a nineteenth century relic from a time when the building had been some kind of textile mill during the early years of America's industrial revolution. But that was a long time ago, and now the small factory town in the mountains was a self-consciously quaint destination catering to hikers, skiiers and leaf-peepers from Boston and New York City. The buildings on its main street had been transformed into upscale shops and farm-to-table restaurants, and the nineteenth century mill owner's stately Victorian mansion had been renovated as an expensive bed and breakfast. He had suggested to her that he book a room there for the night of their first date, but she had vetoed the idea. The Wilkes House is a tourist trap, she had messaged back. If dinner goes well, you'll stay at my place. She was nothing if not forward. He liked that about her.

Nervously, he entered the brewpub.

It was a busy Friday night. Middle-aged yuppies in fleece vests and college-aged hippies in hiking gear were clinking glasses. People really are skinnier up North, he thought to himself. It must be lonely being her size in a town like this. The Florida coast was full of tanned and toned beach bodies, of course, so he understood the struggle. Still, even in Florida, the South had its share of fat folks.

And he wasn't nearly as fat as she was.

Then a little voice in his mind seemed to whisper: Yet.

He shivered, his nervousness suddenly replaced by excitement. Don't get too far ahead of yourself, he thought. This is just a first date. She's cool online but you need to know if you vibe in person before you let her feed you for real. He glanced around the brewpub. When his eyes landed on her, there was no mistaking the woman he had come all this way to meet.

She was seated at the corner of the brewpub, on banquette seating behind a movable table. She seemed as wide as the table, fat shoulders in a loose white cardigan seeming to flow like lava into her breasts and belly rolls in a snug red cotton dress. An elegant antique necklace, a chunky Victorian brooch on a thick silver chain, drew his attention irresistably to her cleavage, then to the triple chins that seemed to rest directly on her chest and shoulders, her neck gone entirely, the chain disappearing beneath soft, pale folds. His attention wandered up her face just as she registered his presence and their eyes met. Her eyes seemed to flash with anticipation behind a pair of vintage eyeglass frames whose red matched the dress. Her fat cheeks dimpled as she smiled. Her chins quivered.

She was fatter in person.

Dinner went as well as he could have imagined. She was as clever as she was fat, a quick-witted conversationalist with a bright laugh and a keen sense of humor. They had spent so much time messaging back and forth that he already felt like he knew her, but she was even more charming in person. She had an endless supply of funny anecdotes from her job as an instructional librarian at the liberal arts college outside of town, the kind of school where rich kids spent four years as ski bums cultivating their weed habits. It wasn't where she had planned to end up, but her Ph.D. in anthropology from Miskatonic hadn't led to a tenure-track job, and she had grown to love the quiet beauty of the little mountain town.

The brewpub owners were graduates of the college, and the waitstaff all seemed to know her. They weren't fazed when she asked to see the menu for a second round of entrees, and while neither of them wanted to drink too much -- it would be another twenty minutes' drive up windy roads to her mountainside cottage, and besides, it was a first date -- the waitstaff were more than happy to pour small samples of the microbrews that the pub brewed on site. He told a few tall tales about life in Florida, exaggerating for dramatic effect. She knew he didn't really have to fend off wild alligator attacks on his way to work, of course, and she gave him a little coquettish smirk when he admitted: "…and besides, I'm too fat to outrun an alligator anyway."

It was all he could have asked for on a first date.

Still, it was hard to keep his mind from wandering to more primal urges, especially when she shrugged off the cardigan and he got a glimpse of her pillowy upper arms, as wide around as some people's waists, spilling like rolls of dough over her elbows, swaying irresistably every time she raised a fork or a glass to her mouth. Cool it, he told himself, biting his lower lip. This is a date, not a hookup. We're here to get to know each other, not just fuck. But the more he watched her stuff herself with gusto, polishing off a steak followed by a lobster roll and a series of appetizers that just seemed to keep coming, the more he found himself imagining what the mountainous rolls of her naked belly might look like beneath that red dress, how wide and soft her naked hips and ass would be when he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her fat body against his.

"Distracted? They asked what you wanted for dessert." He blushed, suddenly realizing how far he had lost himself in the reverie. She gave him a wry smirk. "The bread pudding's good here. Get it with caramel."

The waitress looked at her, then at him, and didn't bother to ask him for confirmation. Soon he was tucking into the bread pudding. But by now, he thought to himself, the bill couldn't come soon enough.

He felt suddenly protective of her as she stood up from the table, reaching to steady herself on a stainless steel bariatric cane, face slightly flushed and breath slightly ragged from the effort of lifting her enormous body. He helped her slip the cardigan back on, and as he helped her navigate around the tables to the entrance of the brewpub, he found himself putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her, feeling her back rolls ripple with each step. She's really big, he thought to himself. But it wasn't his first time with an SSBBW, and he knew how to pace himself and help her feel comfortable, glancing and gesturing to signal to the other diners that they should pull their chairs in for a moment to clear a path. He caught one or two hostile stares from skinny couples eating salads, but when he glared back -- it helped that he was tall and stocky, muscular underneath his fat -- they looked away in embarrassment.

She smiled up at him as they reached the rental car. She was a few inches shorter than him, and the difference in height put just how fat she was into even sharper relief. "Think you can make it up the mountain?"

He laughed. "As long as you don't ask me to hike. That's what the car is for." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close for a kiss, the fabric of his shirt whispering against the fabric of her dress as their bellies touched, a peck on the lips leading to a momentary touching of tongues before she withdrew.

"Good. Make sure you turn right at the covered bridge. Otherwise you'll end up in moose territory. They're even faster than alligators."

"Got it. I'll see you in a little bit." He smiled and lowered himself with a grunt into the rental car. Damn, he thought, exhaling suddenly as his belly hit the steering wheel and he reached down to scoot the seat back a little further. I'm really full.

Only the knowledge of how easy it would be to get lost in these woods on a wrong turn, and the thought that a tourist town like this would be full of speed traps, kept him from rushing even faster than he did up the road to her secluded cottage.

She had just gotten out of her own car when he pulled up, steadying herself on the cane as she reached into her purse for her keys. The cottage was picture-postcard cute, wood and stone, built (she had told him at dinner) by some now-forgotten artist who had moved up from Manhattan in the Fifties to get closer to nature. As the door swung open she saw that she'd had it fitted out with energy-efficient modern luxuries and rearranged to make space for her ample body, the open floor plan giving it a feeling that was simultaneously spacious and cozy. Through a wide picture window he could see the lights of the town and the college flickering down in the valley; he thought he could just barely make out the silhouette of the brewpub.

But what really enticed him was the smell of fresh cooking. She must have spent all day baking, he thought to himself. There were savory breads and sugary sweets, pies, cakes and turnovers, all mingling with the aroma of beef stew bubbling in a slow cooker and the scent of cinnamon from an enormous apple crumble.

He watched her enormous ass and thighs quiver as she slowly walked to the kitchen. All of a sudden all he could think about was sex.

She turned back to look at him, the folds of her chins quivering, her cheeks dimpling in that irresistable smile as she winked at him through her vintage glasses. "Hungry?"

He exhaled and patted his belly. It had been a lot of food at dinner.

He looked at her. She looked at him.

He smiled back.

"I could use a little something. That was a long trip up the mountain."

"Good boy." She ladled some beef stew into a dish, then reached to slip on an oven mitt and open the oven. He couldn't keep his eyes off of how her ass and back rolls jiggled as she bent slightly to reach past her belly, her breath quickening with the effort. She drew out a thick loaf of bread and cracked it open. Inside, it was still steaming.

Turning to face him, she locked eyes with him and smiled, setting half the loaf down and reaching for a knife and butter. Slowly, sensually, she buttered the bread. He watched the glistening fresh butter seep into the thick, soft dough. He watched her arms jiggle, her chins quiver, her belly ripple.

She dipped the bread in the beef stew and took a small nibble. "Try dipping it." She grinned and handed him the dish. "Go sit on the couch. I'll bring some desserts, too."

She rolled her own dish of beef stew in on a cart, accompanied by pumpkin pie, apple crumble, and a large tub of ice cream. She sat down next to him and began to eat. By the time they finished, he felt so full he could barely breathe.

Her belly seemed to engulf him as she rolled over to straddle him on the couch, slipping her arms around his shoulders and pinning him down with her bulk. He pulled her closer and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Soon she was unbuttoning his shirt.

They were naked by the time they headed to the bedroom. She had been teasing him underneath his belly, giving quick, eager strokes, first with the tips of her fat fingers and then with the tip of her tongue. But he gave as good as he got, his own fingers deftly exploring the sensitive undersides of her rolls, sinking in a fraction of an inch further every time he plunged them into the warmth where her thighs and belly met.

By now he was so motivated by desire that he barely bothered to glance around the living room as she led him to bed. If he noticed the shelves of books, the replica statues of paleolithic goddess figures acquired during her anthropology research, it was only as background decoration.

His eyes passed over it, but he didn't really see the altar. A circle of red candles, designs painted in luminous white on dark black velvet, a small stone figurine, this one not a replica. Fresh fruit and grain placed as an offering. Slices of each of the baked desserts she had made, another offering.

And by now he was so full of dessert that he really couldn't take any more. If his eyes glanced briefly over the plate of cookies at the center of the circle of candles, he would have registered them only as one more item in the blur of sweet tastes and textures, of a piece with the pies and the brownies and the turnover soaked in ice cream. He was so full.

He certainly wouldn't have thought to ask her why the cookies were still steaming as if freshly baked, even though they had been making out for over an hour and he hadn't seen her take them from the oven.

She guided him to her bedroom tenderly, but when she shoved him the last step into bed she was almost rough, her own lust evident now, her face flushed as she took off her glasses and unpinned her hair, long locks falling down past her breasts and the enormous rolls of her belly, moving slowly but deliberately, fat flesh pressing against fat flesh as she curled up next to him in bed and pulled him in for another kiss.

The sex was even better than he had fantasized. Both of them were crackling with lust, burning with desire, as if lightning was passing back forth through their skin everywhere their bodies touched.

There's nothing like the sensation of fat on fat.

He was dozing off to sleep, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, when he felt her stand up from the bed. He heard the clunk of her bariatric cane as she left the bedroom. After all the excitement, he was too sleepy to do much more than grunt.

"Still hungry, babe?"

He groaned. At any other time, those words from her lips would have been the most enticing come-on he had ever heard. But the plane flight and the drive had taken a lot out of him, the sex had drained the last of his energy, and he was still full.

"C'mon. Just a few bites." She was back at the bedside, lifting a cookie to his lips.

"Mmmph." The warm, fresh dough. The gooey chocolate. He let her feed him the entire cookie, then another, then another. Barely awake, his eyes closed, his inner eye was already seeing half-formed dream shapes.

"Good boy." She traced her hand across his belly. So full, so achingly full. This was the best night of his life.

"Just one more bite. You have to eat the whole plate." She watched him swallow the last of the cookie, reached across his chest to pinch a few stray crumbs between her fat fingers, stuck her fingers between his lips so he could lick them off.

He leaned his head back onto the pillow and was immediately asleep.

His dreams were as much sensations as visions. Sensations of warmth, softness. Heaviness. Candles and torchlight illuminating his body. Eating, eating, always eating. Heavy, so heavy. His belly swelling.

She was there, or was it one of the goddess figurines? Looming over him, lustful and loving. Hungry for him, hungry to feed him. The goddess was vastly bigger than him, impossibly bigger, filling the bedroom, filling a torchlit cave, filling the night sky until her rolls of fat obscured the stars.

But he was big too, so big. And getting bigger.

Gradually the sensations ended. The visions ended. He sunk into a deep, deep sleep with no more dreams.

It was a bright New England autumn morning. He could see clear blue sky and a riot of fall colors, the town in the valley below framed perfectly in the picture window of the bedroom.

He was hungry. He didn't want to get up. Surely she had left some food in the bedroom.

Yes. A blueberry pie. Fresh. He was suddenly aware that he was alone in bed. From the kitchen, he could hear the clatter of dishes and the thud of her cane.

He was suddenly seized by the urge to devour the pie with his bare hands. He was hungrier than he ever thought possible. He reached for it, and --

His arm was heavy. So heavy. Just lifting it was an effort. Rolls of fat cascading, heavy as gym weights, his arms never reaching quite so far that the spilling softness of his upper arms didn't still touch the equally soft and heavy rolls of his naked chest and belly.

My belly. He looked down. He could barely see past his moobs, and he couldn't see past his belly at all. He felt it against his --

Against his calves. His belly had become enormous.

He looked down. He reached, or tried to. He was as wide as the bed, his fat arms splayed wide against side rolls that were just an inch or two short of spilling over the sides.

He wriggled his hips, or tried to. He felt hundreds of pounds of fat -- how many pounds? -- quiver in soft ripples.

He didn't even bother trying to stand up.

He felt the rolls of his chins against his chest, the rolls of his chest against his belly, the rolls of his belly against his thighs. He felt his thighs meet to well past his knees.

He even felt his overstuffed fat toes.

And suddenly there was a hardness under all that softness. He gasped sharply, drawing in a deep breath, feeling himself quake with excitement. Feebly, he tried to buck his hips against his belly, full of desire now.

She was standing in the bedroom door, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of pastries in the other.

"Hungry?"

She grinned at him.

He could barely speak. "W-what happ…"

She wore nothing but a silk robe, open at the waist. Slowly, sashaying her enormous hips to make her massive belly sway from side to side, she waddled towards him and seated herself as best she could at the edge of the bed. She traced her fingertips down his belly.

"Magic. Don't ask too many questions. Do you want the croissants first, or the pie?"

"The pie." At least he had a ready answer to that one.

"Good boy." She began lifting forkfuls of the warm, fresh blueberry pie to his greedy lips. She stroked his hair and gave a mock pout. "I'm not sure you're going to fit on the plane back to Florida."

"Not unless it's a cargo plane." He smiled. "You didn't have to do this, you know. I would have stayed anyway."

Her mock pout deepened. "But it's so fun this way! You should have seen the look on your face when you woke up." She gave his belly a playful shove. "And I had to know you weren't one of those feedee fuckboys. Lots of guys online talk a big game but won't commit."

He lifted an arm as best he could to squeeze her thigh. "Come on. You knew I was serious."

"Mmmhmm." She leaned across him, her belly spreading over his. She was the skinny one now. "But I'm even more serious."

"Is that so?" He polished off the last bite of the pie, then let his voice get a little fierce. "More food. Now."

She blushed and giggled. "Okay, you're serious. That's what I like to see."

"I know it is." He sighed with contentment, wriggled his hips to get a little bit more comfortable, and let her lift the first of many chocolate-stuffed croissants to his lips. "Am I going to stay like this?"

She smiled. "Only if you want to. The spell is reversible." She paused, a smirk on her face. "But I think you want to."

"You're right. How do you know me so well?"

He smiled. Then he pulled her in for a kiss, grunting with the effort, the softness of his upper arm sliding against her naked back rolls.

An afternoon of eating. An evening of sex. A day passed. Maybe two or three.

He heard his phone vibrate, somewhere in the pile of clothes that were now much, much too small for him. "Could you pass me that?"

She stood up off the bed and reached down to pick up the phone, moving slowly. Slowly due to her bulk, slowly because she knew his mouth was watering at the sight of her enormous body in motion. She placed the vibrating phone on his belly, then left for the kitchen.

It was a text from his friend in Miami Beach. "You doing okay up there? Should I call the cops?"

He smiled. His fingers were so fat that it took him a minute to correct all the typos, but he texted back. "Even better than I hoped."

A moment later, the reply arrived. "That's great. Anything you need?"

He glanced over his gigantic belly at the stupendously fat woman who stood in the bedroom door, carrying a tray of fresh blueberry pancakes glistening with maple syrup. Through the door he could see into the living room, where an empty plate sat on an altar surrounded by the stubs of red candles. "Yeah. If I Venmo you the money, could you hire some movers to box my stuff up and send it here? I'm planning on staying in New England for a while."

He put the phone down and opened his mouth to take his first bite of the pancakes.

#feedist kinktober #mutual gaining #weight gain fiction #wg fiction #feedist fiction #mutual feeding #mutual gain #mutual gain fiction #mutual gainer #fat ffa #fat feeder #gaining weight on purpose #getting fat on purpose #spot the shout-outs to some classic New England horror writers

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sugarishapple · 3 months ago

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Pumpkin Spice

(Day 14 of Feedist Kinktober 2024)

Originally I wanted to do a pic, a bit of contrast within the prompt... and this was a short story that would accompany it, however, plans changed and I decided to focus a bit more on the story itself (and it turned, well...).

New OC feedist couple! I will share designs and more details about them asap! They have a different dynamic than Marshall and Gail, btw. This story serves as some introduction to them and their dynamics (and change and contrast of dynamics), but you will see 👀.

Word count: 3515

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It was her favorite. Olivia’s favorite coffee drink: Pumpkin Spice Latte cappuccino.

Whenever Olivia went out with Nicolas during the autumn, she always asked for this coffee drink. She liked the way it tasted. The way spices like the cinnamon or the nutmeg or the ginger rolled so well with the pumpkin and the coffee milk.

Of course, she knew that the one offered at the coffee shop wasn’t THE real thing, but it always reminded her of the pumpkin pies her grandmother made when she was younger, especially after her grandfather brought all those huge pumpkins he got back in the farm he worked in, just before October was over. And the best way to make the most of them was pumpkin pies or pumpkin candy (chacualole (1)) with similar ingredients.

“It is nostalgic. I guess that’s why I ended up loving it”. She explained to Nicolas, a few months after they started dating. “It makes me cozy, I guess? It’s too delicious.”

“I think I get it, though.” He responded. “I think it’s the same with me and salted caramel. Once you taste it in other things than chocolate bars, it’s kind of nice”.

“Well, of course. It’s caramel and it’s a bit salty. They got together well.” She thought. “Hmmm. I could make some pumpkin pies with caramel over it, though…” Olivia jostled Nico as they were getting out from the coffee shop. “Maybe a couple… four? Just for you, as always.” She muttered as she quickly grabbed his growing belly and gave it a jiggle.

“As always, fattening me up.” He sighed. “I’m not going to be able to keep walking out and coming to these places at your pace if you keep feeding me up like that.”

She giggled at what they considered flirting. “Buuut, I want to see that, you know? I plan to keep showing up how my man is getting fatter and fatter as long as we keep going out like this. The more they see you and the more you get plumper and unrecognizable… they will eventually realize it is you.”

“Heh. I wouldn’t mind. That sounds quite fun, actually.”

When Olivia got the perfect pumpkins she could use, she didn’t waste time in gutting them. The stuffing would be used for dessert, and the seeds would be a nice snack to grab a bite from time to time. She knew the recipe for her grandmother’s pumpkin pies by heart as she tasted it many times (although, admittedly, she had to write it down the last time she was at her parents’ house), and was longing for that flavor that was so nostalgic and cozy for her. And sharing it with Nico, her boyfriend, was the best she could do with it. She assured herself that he would love those pumpkin pies as much as she did, that he would love them so much while feeding him one by one, and perhaps make him long for its flavor and desire for it past the Autumn season… and, eventually, he wolf them down without any issue as the gluttonous pig she knew he was able to be.

The pumpkin pies came out as excellent as Olivia expected them to be. The hypnotizing smell of the pumpkin and its many spices, the texture of the filling and the crust, the taste, even. They were exactly as many as she wanted for her boyfriend, so she invited him at her house to have a fun evening accompanied by a delightful special meal and dessert.

As soon as Nicolas was at Olivia’s house, he sat down on her living room’s couch. That’s how these special meals have been since they started dating. He wouldn’t mind, as he knew she was always looking for the most comfortable places he would be sitting (or laying down) as she would feed him.

Olivia walked in with the four pumpkin pies and put them in the low table in front of him. She looked at him, from the head to the toes, with those dark brown eyes of hers and a smug smile embellishing her face.

“See, babe?” She took a good look at Nicolas’ figure, calculating how fatter she wanted him to be, imagining him taking much more more of his seat in that couch, overflowing it with his corporal mass. “I told you I would prepare four of these small pies just for you.”

He laughed.

“They are anything but small.” He shuffled so he could get even more comfortable on his seat. “I didn’t expect anything less from you, Liv. You never break a promise.”

She sat at his side, sliding his shirt up and started rubbing that soft gelatinous mass of a belly he had. It wasn’t so big, yet, but it was starting to reclaim more space from his lap. He was admittedly a corpulent guy when he and Olivia started dating, but oh, how much these two wanted him to soften up so, so much more. Patting it a few times, she couldn’t help but smile and blush.

Grabbing one of the pies and a knife, she started cutting a nice and thick slice, the caramel oozing on the sides.

“You are looking so good, now, Nico. I wonder how much more good you will look and get when I help feeding you those delicious pies, huh?”

“I will surprise you, Liv”. He tilted his head to kiss her. And as soon as his lips touched hers, she immediately kissed him back and harder.

She would feed him slices at first, but eventually opted to give him thick handfuls with her small thin hands, which he reached with his mouth, with enthusiasm and eagerness, almost like desperate to get that delightful dessert from his feeder girlfriend’s hands, even playfully licking her fingers, grabbing every leftover he could with his lips and tongue. The pumpkin and spices flavor was slowly becoming addictive to him. Moaning while gulping it all down, Olivia knew exactly where she would grab and touch, squeezing his belly fat, also fascinated with the hunger and gluttonous ways of her amazing boyfriend. He perfectly knew, as well, that it was all making her moan, getting so worked up as he devoured everything she gave to him.

“You are doing great, Nico… so, so great.” She bit her lips. “I love it.”

“It’s all thanks to you, you know, Liv?” He smiled, before opening his mouth again, ready to be stuffed with more of the pie, gulping it down before talking to her, again: “You have been a great encourager…” He felt a belch coming out from his chest, letting it out. “Urp… You have been doing an excellent job in making me this way...”

“Heh. I am certainly proud of it.” She cheekily smiled, fixing her long hair lock right behind her ear, out of nervousness, attempting to hide how wet he was making her feel down her thighs. “I want to take you to a no-return point, so, so bad...”

He laughed. “With the way you are doing this, I may not be so far away from that point”.

Olivia grabbed the last of the pies’ plates, with no much left than a small handful and gave it to him.

“Mind in making me the honors, my glutton hog?”

“Of course. All for you.” Nico took the plate and grabbed the handful of pie with his bare hands and shoved it into his mouth, not wasting any time onto it. As he ate it, he couldn’t not smile. He was proud of being Olivia’s glutton-feedee boyfriend.

“See?… I knew you will finish them up.” She snuggled her face into his chest, before tilting her head and giving him a kiss. “Now, I’m the one wanting her dessert…” She wrapped one of her legs onto his waist, ready to make out with him.

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It was her favorite. Olivia’s favorite coffee drink flavor: Pumpkin Spice Latte cappuccino.

Olivia always orders it whenever it is autumn, and during the past two years, there hasn’t been an exception where she doesn’t order one of these coffee drinks. She and Nicolas knew it wasn’t THE real thing, of course, but nevertheless, it still tasted as wonderful as always.

This year, however, Nico was enchanted by the lovely idea of buying her a full box of Pumpkin Spice flavor mix for dairy products. Especially since he knew how exactly he wanted to prepare and mix it with, even after the autumn season ended, just for her. However, Olivia couldn’t expect his choice: heavy cream milkshakes that he was going to feed her.

Nicolas’ intentions were very clear in how he wanted to do this. For the past few months he was looking something perfect to help her in gaining weight and making her addicted to it, while also pampering her in the process. And as soon as the autumn started, he remembered the pumpkin spice flavor she loved the most, so “why not making her some milkshakes with this and heavy cream?”

“Maybe, I can even add some caramel syrup into them to add not just a sweeter flavor but more calories…”

Nico wanted to focus on his beloved Olivia now, partly because he wanted to reciprocate all of her amazing work in fattening him up, and also because he developed a growing desire to see her getting fat as much as he got.

Although he was a gluttonous feedee at heart, Nico also had some feeder tendencies, and he would be lying if he hadn’t imagine in being Olivia’s feeder at some point during the past whole year, especially as he realized a couple of things about her, like noticing that she wasn’t very subtle in sneaking a few bites from all that delicious food she made for him, and finding out that the fading stretchmarks she had in some areas of her body were there because she used to be overweight in the past. He simply couldn’t stop thinking about all of it as a whole.

“Wouldn’t you be opposed to the idea of me feeding you?” Nico remembered telling her as he finally decided to express his desire to fatten her up.

“What?” His question took Olivia by surprise. “You want to feed... me?”

“Well, you have been very sneaky, Liv.” He responded. “But, you cannot trick me. Recently I have seen you grabbing bites here and there when you are not just going to feed me, but when you are doing it, as well.”

“We… well! Of course, I have to… I can do that, you know?” She responded nervously.

“Exactly, I know you can do that. But…” One of his hands reached her face. “I can feed you. I want to feed you, and I want to make you fat, too…”

As he started to caress her face, her ears got very red.

“What are you saying??” She kept replying in a nervous manner. “Making me fat???”

He giggled, and with a smug face, he told her: “Your reactions say it all, Liv. I bet you have been thinking about it. You told me that you were overweight before, but I suppose it’s possible that spending all this time with me could have turned on a switch inside you.” He grabbed one of her hands and he put it against his chest and his upper belly, jiggling it. “I mean, you made me aaaalll this fat… wouldn’t you want some of it as well?”

Liv closed her eyes, her face all red, as she grabbed Nico’s thick upper fat roll, before making her hand go to his left juicy moob. She felt like her heart would come out of her chest.

“This is all your work.” He whispered to her ear. “And I want to repay you as nicely, too, while also making you my gluttonous piggy.” He teased her.

She bit her lip just with those three last words, losing the little concentration and balance she had left on her, slipping on the couch, as her boyfriend ended up above her. Nicolas was, in a word, huge. He was already corpulent when they met, but his figure got wider and heavier with time. His arms softened up, his elbows almost buried in fat. His whole torso was drooping on her, his abundant stomach with thick rolls all over his Liv’s stomach, and his moobs sagging close to his girlfriend’s face. From Olivia’s angle, she could trace how rounded and chubby looked his face, with a prominent second chin. His breath was becoming quick and heavier.

“See...? All because of you… I’m 360 lbs now… Wouldn’t you want me to feed you… and fatten you up at my current weight, babe? To a point of no return?”

Olivia moaned when she heard his proposal, her legs trembling under Nico’s weight. He didn’t take long to observe this, and started giggling.

“Are you fascinated by this? Feeding you and making you soooo fat…?”

She looked him into his eyes, until she slightly averted them into another direction.

“...Yes.” She sheepishly responded. “...Could you?”

This all brings Nicolas to the present time. It’s been some months since that confession/talk he had with Liv, and he had since applied his “magic” on her all that past summer. And, although he manifested his want to feed her and making her fat, all he wanted was to spoil her, to pamper her.

That morning, Nico prepared for her, as much as he could, a vast breakfast composed of the same dishes she usually made for him when she started staying over at his house. It was a nice gesture, but he his intentions were obvious, as well.

“Wow, Nico... you shouldn’t have. This is a lot.” She said as she contemplated the whole table full of rich and hearty food.

“Nonsense, Liv.” He said. “I know you can handle it all fine. We didn’t spend the whole summer in training your appetite, and that peeking belly of yours is enough to prove it.”

He pointed to her ‘small’ tum peeking though her sleeping shirt, which she sheepishly rubbed it, before attempting to hide it with her shirt, slightly embarrassed.

Olivia sighed as she sat down at his table. “Oh, what the hell. I will try. It smells good and looks REALLY good.”

She took her plate and started to fill it with a couple of pancakes oozing with butter and syrup, scrambled eggs, and she also decided to grab a couple of bacon strips. She took a bite of the eggs, and a bit of the pancakes and couldn’t avoid moaning out of how delightful it was all. She then grabbed a few more forkfuls from her plate and stuffed them into her mouth, before gulping it all down.

“Mhmmm. You even tried to do my seasoning.” She noticed, tasting the pancake with syrup on her lips. “This has cinnamon on it”.

He nodded and smiled. “Of course, how couldn’t I. I was inspired by you, after all.”

She giggled as she went to fill her place with more pancakes, and picked up some fried ham and jam. She also picked up some fried potatoes with chili and chorizo, and more scrambled eggs. Nico was looking at Liv, all fascinated at her growing appetite, because he knew his girl was capable of eating as much like that, and he also knew it could grow more if she got bigger.

She noticed Nicolas was looking at her, as much as she usually did when he ate a lot, which was exciting to say the least. And the more he admired her, admittedly, it made her want to eat and stuff herself much more. Her legs trembled a little, and passing one of her hands over her tum, giving it a rub, she became eager and continued her eating.

“Owww… I don’t think I can fit anything more here…” She reclined on her chair, caressing her tum. Almost all of the breakfast was gone (although Nicolas grabbed some bites as he saw her eating speed was decreasing). “Maybe next time… but this is all I can handle now.”

“Oh, come on, Liv.” He stood up. “A few more bites? For me? You always push me up a little more…”

“Yeah? But you are you. Trust me, I cannot do so much more right now.” She started to rub her tum once again. “I’m not a big glutton like you.”

“Yet.” He corrected. “And I will make sure of it. Besides, I have a little treat for you and just you. And I will give it to you if you eat juuuust a little more. All calories count~”

“Hmmm…” Liv groaned, but was curious. “What is it?”

“Eat a little more, and I will let you have it.” He teased her as he sit down at her side, and grabbed a fork to pick some leftover pancakes, that he wrapped with ham. “Say ‘ah’.”

She opened her mouth and Nico shoved the piece of pancake into her mouth. She chew it and gulped it.

“A little more.” He cut more of the pancakes and offered it to her, which she again opened her mouth to eat it, chew it and gulp it down. “Good girl. Come on, you are almost there.” And, once again, he offered the final leftover from those pancakes he grabbed, which she also ate. “There. I think you deserve your prize now.”

He stood up once again and walked up to his refrigerator. His belly was jiggling up and down as he went to open it, and grab Olivia’s well-deserved treat: a glass of milkshake made with that pumpkin spice flavor mix he bought earlier. He also grabbed the caramel syrup and put some into it.

“And here it is.” He smiled as he showed it to her. “It’s a milkshake that I am very sure you will grow to love.”

“A milkshake, huh?” She reached her arm to attempt to grab it, but Nicolas refused.

“Nope, I will feed it to you, instead.”

“For real?” She kept rubbing her full belly.

“Sure as hell. It’s your prize, babe… but, let me have some fun out of it as well.”

Olivia remembered all those times she flirted and teasingly did the same with Nico, so, she couldn’t back off. Regardless, she wanted him to enjoy the moment, too.

“Okay, big guy. Let’s find out what this milkshake taste.”

“Of course.” He smiled as he made sure Liv was at least somewhat comfortable. “Recline your head a little more, okay?”

She followed his instructions and did so, as he was grabbing the glass and bringing it closer to her lips.

“Drink up~”

As Olivia separated her lips, Nicolas tilted the glass to let flow the creamy liquid into her mouth. Instantly, Olivia tasted the pumpkin spice flavor, but she was forced to drink it up as quickly as more of the milky liquid was flowing into her. And as she started to chug, she noticed how thick it felt, and how incredibly sweet it was, too.

“Caramel syrup… and it has heavy cream, too?” Olivia identified the rest of the flavors as she chugged the milkshake. She started moaning as she felt how sweet it was. It was so rich… so delicious. So heavenly like. So she kept drinking, and drinking… and drinking, until it started to hurt… until there was nothing left in the glass.

“Wow, look at you… You surely enjoyed all of it.” He gave her a belly rub, and patting it made her let out a burp.

Groaning, Olivia tried to shuffle into her seat with some pain. “Pumpkin spice, huh? Urp...”

He nodded, as he kept rubbing her tum.

“Gosh…” Liv responded, groaning. “And heavy cream, too?! Fuck, you really want me to get very fat like this… There’s no way I’m not going to get addicted to these now!...”

“Figured it out?” He responded, giggling, as he also caressed her hair. “I knew you would love it. I can make you so much more, you know that, right?”

“I mean…” She fidgeted. “I dunno… I wouldn’t mind, but… fuck… how much did you buy of that pumpkin spice flavor stuff?”

“Enough to last until winter… or I would hope so, of course.” He replied with some tease. “We could finish them sooner if you want that…”

“So, so fat…” Olivia mumbled to herself, before reclaiming: “You are so mean, Nico!”

“Maybe? But, look at the good side of it, it’s sweater season, too!” He kept teasing her, even sticking his tongue out, before kissing her forehead.

“Ugh… don’t do this to me...!” She trembled with pain and laugh.

“Take it easy, Liv.” He grabbed her hand, helping her to stand up. “Relax, okay? At least for now. Let’s go to the couch so you can rest and digest it all.”

He reached down as she also titled her head to give each other a kiss on the lips.

“Can I ask you to be gentle while I rest?” Olivia asked.

“Of course. All for you.”

****

(1) I was looking for an English word for this specific kind of dessert, because it didn't hit me well with just "pumpkin candy", all I know it as is "dulce de calabaza", but apparently the ES Wiki says it is actually a dessert/sweet coming from Guerrero, Mexico. YET, I know for a fact that we also make it here in the north of the country during autumn (ie October-November). Do they do it in English-speaking countries too? I feel they DO, but "pumpkin pie's filling" also doesn't feel appropiate to name it either, lol.

#feedist kinktober #feedist kinktober 2024 #original characters #original fiction #weight gain #wg text #weight gain fiction #mutual gain

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