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The Second Date
By Big Guy

It began innocently enough one night. I was visiting a favorite site when I decided to view the member's section. A few minutes later I spotted her handle fattens_men. I clicked on her profile and discovered that she was an allusive female feeder. I had read about them, but never come across one. As luck had it she was on line, so I sent her a message and we spent the next two hours chatting. We decided to meet again the next night to continue our conversation. One night lead to another and before I know it we had spent a few months chatting about our common interests. Her favorite subject was feeding, and helping me to reach my full potential. If you were to look at me no one would consider me thin or skinny, but she felt I was underfed. She went into great detail describing to me how she would fatten me up.

The relationship developed to the point where we decided to meet. We agreed to meet in NYC for lunch. I arrived at the designated spot early. I was pacing back and forth when she arrived. She smiled and waved as she approached. We hugged she looked into my eyes, touched my face and said, "My you are a chubby one." We spent the next four hours together getting to know each other walking around Lower Manhattan. Of course we stopped for lunch and later for dessert. That was the entertainment part of the afternoon for Cindy. I dropped her off at the train station and we decided to meet again.

Little did I know that it would almost two months to the day before we got the chance for our second date. We continue to communicate via the net. A majority of the time was devoted to her favorite topic feeding, and it effects on me. We finally set a second date and she promised to provide me with my first feeding experience.

As I was getting ready for the date, I could not recall being so excited about meeting another person. In preparation I had bought a new pair of jeans with a bit more room in the waist. I did not eat breakfast to ensure that I had an appetite. The plan for the day was to meet for lunch, see a movie and go for dinner. Cindy would treat me to lunch and dinner and I pay for the movie. I remembered the last words she wrote the previous night. "To bring my appetite; because she was going to make sure that I was very well fed." We were to meet at 12:30 that afternoon, but due to traffic I did not arrive until 1:00.

As I approached Cindy had her arms folded and asked, "Why was I late." Before I could explain she held up her hand and told me she was starving. Then walked up to me, patted my stomach and remarked I must also be hungry? I shrugged and said, "A little." Cindy took my hand and we began to walk toward the street. She stopped at a pizza place and instructed me to wait. She emerged a few minutes later with a large slice of pizza with extra cheese. She handed me the plate and said enjoy.

I gave her puzzled look, and she said, "We have to walk about a mile to the place where I've planned to take you for lunch, and I don't want you passing out on me because of hunger. Now eat," and we both laughed. After walking about a half mile, she stopped again to buy me two hot dogs.

As she handed it to me I questioned her motive for the snacks, "Was she trying to fill me up so she could save a few bucks on lunch?" She just chuckled, "These are just small offerings to tide you over until we get to the restaurant, Mr. Chubby."

We walked another ten minutes, and Cindy suddenly stopped behind a line of people and announced that we had arrived. When I questioned where, she just pointed up to a sign. We were going to have lunch at the famous Carnegie Deli. Approximately fifteen minutes later, we were seated.

After the waiter handed us the menus I asked her why she chose this place, "Because they are famous for their sandwiches and large portions. And you better clean your plate, or I will be very disappointed in you, Mr. Chubby." After the waiter took our order, she said it was time to get down to business and went on to explain the rules that governed a feeder/feedee relationship.

  1. The feeder is always right, and she pointed to herself and stressed that she was the feeder.

  2. The feedee always cleaned their plate, and pointed to me as the feedee.

  3. The feeder always determined when the feedee was full and the meal officially ended.

  4. The feeder determined the feedee diet.

  5. When they were out in public the feeder always ordered the food.

  6. The feeder set the meal and snack schedule, and this schedule was to be strictly adhered to unless changed by the feeder.

When she finished, Cindy asked if there were any questions. I just shook my head no and said, "It seems fairly simple to me. You determine when, and how much I am to eat." She smiled and nodded her head in agreement to my statement. Just then the waiter arrived with our food. I had ordered a pastrami sandwich with a side of potato salad, and she had ordered a house salad. As the waiter left I noticed her staring at my food and I asked if there was anything wrong?

She answered, "Yes, I can't believe how small the portions are now." Since I had never eaten there, I did not have a point of reference to debate the matter with her. I chose to let her vent. After lunch we had desert, and I was required to finished hers. As we were leaving, and not a moment too soon, I realized that I had just about reached my limit. Feeling confident that I had just dodged a bullet, I thanked her for lunch. She turned and remarked sarcastically, "You mean that snack you just had."

I couldn't resist responding, "Well, no matter what you think of it, it was quiet good and filling." Little did I know that she would turn the tables on me and wipe that smug look right off my face. As we stood in front of the entrance, I noticed Cindy's attention was directed somewhere else. Suddenly she grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go."

Before I knew it, we had entered the deli across the street. I didn't say a word until we were seated, and when I did attempt she stopped me. Cindy had a smug look on her face, "Well Mr. Chubby, I promised you would be well fed, and I intend to keep it." Before I could mount a serious protest, she rested her hands under her chin, smiled and said, "Rule number one, the feeder is always right." Then she reached over and took the menu from me and just said rule's number 3&5. "Besides, it will give me the opportunity to see just what I have learned about your eating preferences."

When the waiter returned, she ordered the food by pointing to her selections on the menu. Approximately 15 minutes later, the waiter returned with a tray covered with plates. In front of me he placed a overstuffed triple-decker sandwich, a combo platter of French fries and onion rings, and a bowel of macaroni salad. In front of Cindy, he placed a small salad. She looked at me and smiled, placed her hand to her lips and said, "Oh my, did I order too much food? Well, we'll see if you are a contender or a pretender. Now eat up, Mr. Chubby."

Like a good feedee, I picked up my fork and knife and began to eat. It soon became evident that I was quickly filling up, and I was becoming discouraged because I had not made a significant dent into the food on the table. Realizing my dilemma, Cindy immediate response was to distract me from my task. First she got me to look at her and said, "Do you know how you will finish this?"

"No," I responded.

"One forkful at a time, Mr. Chubby." She began a conversation, got me to focus my attention on her, and provided me with encouragement and praise. When I placed the last fork full of food into my mouth, I leaned back into my chair to relieve the pressure on my stomach. I had never been so stuffed in my life, and my bloated stomach proved it. When I looked up I notice Cindy was sitting there with her hands under her chin, staring at my stomach and smiling. Finally she spoke, "See I told you, I would make sure you would eat a good lunch."

After a few minutes I excused myself to go to the men's room, and she told me to meet her outside. When I came outside Cindy smiled walked up and patted my stomach and handed me a bag. I look at her and asked what was in it. A few treats, she answered. "You had remarked to me you liked these pastries, so I bought you a few to munch on as we head to the movie."

I looked at her, pointed to my stomach and said, "No way, I simply cannot eat another bite."

"Oh yes you can, Mr. Chubby, remember rule # 3," and told me I better finish them by the time we reached the theater. So we started walking downtown, Cindy at my side with her arm wrapped around my waist, and me snacking on the pastries with my belly leading the way.

I finished the pastries by the time we got to the theater. The movie was somewhat uneventful except it gave me a few hours to digest my lunch. Cindy did not seem too interested in it. I quickly found out the she preferred to give her attention to my bloated belly. I must say she eased the pressure by discreetly giving me my first belly rub. Two and half hours later we walked out into the later afternoon sun. Cindy asked if I was ready for dinner. I nodded, so she took my arm and led the way.

Ten minutes later we arrived at restaurant called Bosco's. We entered and she requested a table in the back. The waiter brought us the menu. I was allowed to look, but she was going to order She only asked me one question. "Chicken, Pork or Beef?"

I answered, "Chicken." By the time the main course arrived, I was starting to fill up again. I had already consumed a cup of soup, salad, and a loaf of butter bread. Then the waiter placed this small platter in front of me that contained the full breasts from two chickens in a mushroom sauce, and a side dish of pasta. Her dinner, rib roast, was just as large. It was a struggle but I persisted and finished my dinner. Cindy looked up, a smile crossed her face, and said, "I could see that you were hungry, Mr. Chubby; I am kind of full so why don't you finish mine?"

Before I could say a word she had reached over and switched the plates. I looked down and saw that she had eaten about a quarter of the meal. I looked up and our eyes met, and she remarked how I better get going or the food would get cold. I picked up the fork and dug in, determined to finish. For the next twenty minutes I cut, chewed and swallowed, while Cindy provided the distraction, encouragement, and praise I needed to finish.

The waiter returned, sensing who was in charge looked directly at her and asked if we would be interested in some dessert. To my dismay she responded, "Yes." The waiter quickly returned and hand her the dessert menu, ignoring me totally. She ordered coffee and cake for both of us. A few minutes later the waiter placed a large piece of double fudge cake for me, and cheesecake for Cindy. Just like dinner I wound up eating just about all of it. Before I could finish, Cindy had time to drink a second cup of coffee and go to the woman's room. It must have been quite a show for her watching me struggle as I stuffed myself. I honestly thought I'd explode, when I swallowed the last bite.

It took about ten minutes to pay the check, and it gave me some rest and allowed all of that food to settle in my stomach. Well, the moment of truth had finally arrived, would I be able to get out of the chair? As I went to rise up I found my stomach was so bloated it blocked my way. So I quickly pulled back into the chair and then rocked forward to give me a little momentum. It was sufficient and allowed me rise up from the chair.

Finally on my feet, I looked down and noticed my stomach, and it was huge. Now, I know what a pregnant woman goes through in the last trimester. I could feel the weight of the food pulling down on my stomach, and to maintain my balance I needed to tilt backward a little. This only made my bloated stomach stick out farther. As I walked down the aisle to door, I felt that every one was staring at my belly as I waddled along.

When we exited the restaurant Cindy took me by the arm and gave me big smile. Then she patted my overstuffed stomach and said, "Well, everyone could plainly see that you are one well-fed man tonight, Mr. Chubby," and chuckled. We walked at a leisurely pace for a few blocks when she stopped. She told me to sit, and she walked around the corner. Cindy told me she would get me something to help relieve and settle my over stuffed belly. I figured she was going to the drug store - was I ever wrong.

A few minutes later she returned, carrying a large bag. She sat on the bench, leaned over patted my stomach, and told me she had something that would fix me right up. "Surprise," and handed me a large ice cream sundae. "I know you always have room for ice cream." It was a three scoop sundae with the works: syrup, nuts, whip cream and a cherry. Before I could say a word she said, "Mr. Chubby, I am invoking rules 1,3, and 5. Now start eating," so I took the spoon and dug into it.

It was rich and creamy and to my surprise went down fairly easy. When I was finished, she put her sundae down and took the empty plastic bowl and threw it into the trash. When she returned she pick up her sundae and said, "You finished that sundae so quickly you must still be hungry… Well, then, why don't you just finish mine?" Then she handed me hers, and, of course, she had hardly touched it. I hesitated and a thought of rebellion crept into my mind. I looked at the sundae and then at her.

A devilish smile crossed her face as if she was daring me. "Start eating, Mr. Chubby, or I start feeding it to you." The look told me she was not kidding. So I picked up the spoon and started to eat. She just sat next to me and began to rub my belly with her right hand. All she said was, "Good," and repeated it several times. When I finished, she gave me a few minutes to rest, then we headed out to Penn station where the whole day began.

As we walked Cindy tried to quicken the pace, but I just could not seem to keep it up. To motivate me, Cindy told me if she had to wait an hour for the next train she would entertain herself and me by feeding me a dozen donuts.

Well, it worked and we reached the station with about 12 minutes to spare. As we stood by the entrance to the train, Cindy reached around and gave me a big hug. She looked up and told me that she had been waiting to do that all evening.

"Did I pass the test?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Chubby, you are definitely a contender… I was very impressed with your ability to eat."

All the while I could feel her left hand and nails, stroking the side of my stomach. Suddenly she shifted her hand and placed her index finger inside of the waistband on my pants. After what felt like an eternity she looked me in the eye and smiled. "Hmm, doesn't seem to much room left … You know the next time I am going to keep feeding you until that button on your jeans either pops or you open it to relieve the pressure. And there is nothing you can do to stop me.

"Are you ready for the challenge, Mr. Chubby?"

At that moment, my mind ran wild. She was right; there was nothing I could do to stop her; I was putty in her hands. Suddenly I heard, "Well," and was jolted back into reality with a sharp poke to the belly with index finger on her left hand. All I could do was nod my head in agreement. "Good." Next she gave me a big kiss and ran down the stairs to her train. As she moved from my view, I turned to walk away. I knew after this evening I would be seeing a lot more of that woman. Then I looked down and began to smile. I also realized I would be seeing a lot more of my stomach! ! !