|07-06-2007, 06:52 PM||#1|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Interview with a Feeder - by lizzy (~BBW, Stuffing, ~Explicit Sex, ~~WG)
~BBW, Stuffing, ~Explicit Sex, ~~WG - One of the things a new couple has in common is stuffing themselves!
Interview With A Feeder
I had never really considered myself a BBW – this is until I started to edge my way firmly out of the misses department size 16 to a softer, rounder woman’s department size 16, and then moving on to where some 16Ws were just not roomy enough. I just had to look in the mirror to view the belly that never used to be there and my thicker thighs that now rubbed together when I walked.
My weight had gone up and down so many times over the last twenty years:
And then the upward swing over the next five to six years:
I did indeed fill out over the past ten years or so.
I shrugged and went over to my bed to lock my suitcase. I had tremendous plans for this Memorial Day Weekend. I had always been fascinated with feederism since college. Perhaps it was because my own experiences in that area – my up and down battle or my passion for food. I read stories, chatted for hours with feeders, feedees, gainers, and encouragers, and actively participated in discussion groups about it all. But I wanted more. I became curious – I had to know what it would feel like to be well-fed. I wanted a feeder, so began my quest.
My search began online through personal ads and taking with men in chat rooms. The offers poured in. I was surprised how many were actually willing to meet. I wadded through multiple profiles, pics, and conversations I had shared with them and narrowed my list down to five possibilities: Nickolas, Bryan, Jahn, Dan, and Luke. All were different sizes, in different professions, but they were all very willing to help me fatten up – and they all lived in or near New York City.
The perfect opportunity to interview some potential feeders or at least have some really good meals with people who shared my passion was this Memorial Day Weekend. I was scheduled to go to a conference in Manhattan on Wednesday, so I extended my stay a few more days. My friend, Sandy, and her husband, Bob, who lived just outside of Manhattan, were having a barbecue on Monday. I figured I would be at the conference Tuesday and Wednesday, and I would meet with the feeders on Friday, with the exception of Jahn, who I would meet for drinks right after the conference. I could decide which one I liked and then get together with them on Saturday and Sunday or just catch up on some shopping. Sandy and Bob would be on Monday and then it was home. I was so excited. Before I went to sleep, I emailed all the men firming up plans and then went to bed.
I could barely sleep in anticipation, but I did get a few hours in. I got up early, slipped on a business suit, or, should I say, “sucked and secured” myself into the snug skirt. I packed my luggage into the trunk of my Nissan and began the long drive to the city.
I got there just in time to attend the conference. I went straight there and checked into the hotel which was located near Lincoln Center. The room was luxurious – a large room with living room, fully stocked refrigerator and mini-bar, Jacuzzi tub, and comfy bed. And, what a view!
I went out on the town with a group from the conference on Tuesday night. We hit this Chinese buffet nearby. I had hardly eaten all day so I was famished. I wanted to eat heaps. We all ate with abandon – bellies become rotund as we went back again and again for lo mein, chow mein, sushi, rolls, green tea, soda, dim sum dumplings, soup, spare ribs, and chicken, beef, and pork dishes galore.
I took a rest and we chatted about all the things we could see in New York. My dinner weighted me down like a rock. I opened my back button on my skirt and rolled down the waistband, pulling my shirt out to cover the bloat. None of the other seemed to notice or be concerned. Some of the men were already rubbing and slapping their overstuffed guts. I could barely keep my eyes off them. I have always been an FA, a chubby chaser. Most of my boyfriends were big men with ample bellies. I adored plump men. Sometimes I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be more of a feeder or a feedee enjoying the sight of a man’s belly inflating. But, right now, I feel defiantly more feedee.
Last came dessert. I stuffed myself with the deliciously sweet sugar-covered donuts. Oh, how I love donuts! They seem so light and airy going down, but they feel like you swallowed lead balls later on. Well, this was now, and I wasn’t about to obsess about later. I popped one after another in my mouth while the rest of them indulged in the soft serve ice cream and miniature pastries.
I arrived back at my hotel so swollen, moaning in pain. I slept deeply throughout the night, not able to turn and lay on my painfully inflated belly.
Thursday was much of the same except we all hit the buffet starting at breakfast. I piled pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, fried eggs, and corned beef hash on my oversized plate. Lunch was the standard wraps and sandwiches you get at a conference with potato salad, macaroni salad, chips, and cookies. Dinner was the “All You Can Eat Pasta Night” at a local restaurant. I crammed so much in I could barely breathe – my belly dangerously stretching the limits of my pants.
Finally, the day of my first interview arrived. It was Thursday and I would be meeting Jahn. I knew I wouldn’t have time to change, so I wore a sweater set – baby blue cardigan and matching tank in silk with dress pants. I deliberately chose my outfit to excite Jahn. It was a size too small. I bulged out everywhere.
Jahn was a good-looking man. He was forty-one, very tall, and had the body of a bodybuilder. Not exactly my usual type, but since I was looking for a good feeder, his size didn’t matter. Mine would – at least in the end results. He met me at the door of the club, kissing me on the cheek, looking me up and down hungrily. We walked past the blaring music and dancing bodies to a bar area in the upper level of the club. We sat down at a large booth and ordered drinks. I changed my vodka and cranberry to a pina colada at Jahn’s insistence that it was more fattening and wasn’t that the idea?
When the waiter came back with our drinks, Jahn placed the appetizer order: onion rings, cheese fries, quesadilla, mini-spring rolls, potato skins, and fried macaroni and cheese bites. The waiter must have been surprised at the large order, but he was getting a better tip the more we padded our bill.
I found Jahn to be really goofy. He really thought he was being witty. He told me he was finishing out his residence at New York Hospital. He was going into general practice. He continued to talk about himself until the food came out. Jahn took the onion rings for himself and placed all the other platters in front of me. I knew that I had probably bitten off more than I could chew. But, I was a good sport and dug in. I ate the spring rolls and macaroni and cheese bites first, then worked my way over to the quesadillas, and began drinking my third pina colada.
The alcohol was having its desired effect – loosening my inhibitions and deadening much of the sensations of my stuffed belly. I could still feel how tightly stretched the fabric was becoming across my tightly packed midsection. I just didn’t care at the moment. Food was my moment.
Jahn pushed the potato skins at me and quickly began to feed me when I slowed. “Look at that belly swell. Hmmm … you’re turning into a real fatty,” he teased, cupping his left hand under the hard tight ball my belly was rounding out to, as his right hand continued to supply me with more food.
He grabbed and gyrated my belly roughly, causing me to belch a number of times. “So, you are my fat piggy. Take some more to drink.”
I coughed and sputtered as he pulled my head back forcing me to drink. The thick, sweet tropical drink went quickly down my esophagus. My head was spinning. I kept feeling an unbelievable pressure in my sides and what felt like a lead ball deep in my gut. I barely realized that I had started working on the mount of oily and gooey cheese fries. Jahn’s hand gyrated my flesh more firmly as he continued to stuff me hard.
Ooopf … oomph … chomp … chomp … chew … chew … chomp … chew … chew … oomph … slurp …
I felt like my circulation was cut off as my belly projected enormously forward. My pants lost their pleats and the top button pushed itself free. Fists full of fries were pushed into my mouth.
“Come on, Piggy, squeal for me …” Jahn demanded.
As my poor tummy was bounced I was forced to grunt. I never was so happy about a dimly lit place with loud music, because I could only imagine what people would think watching him roughly rubbing and I powerless, off-center from too much alcohol, letting him do what he wanted.
Then finally it all abruptly ended. The food was all gone. When I looked down, I was startled to see that I appeared at least six months' pregnant. I was in a haze and could only feel a dull throbbing and sometimes an intense internal pressure – an incredible plumpness.
Jahn was delighted. “So, you see how chubby you’re going to become with me as your feeder? I’ll make my piggy enormous. You’ll always feel full.”
He continued to go into detail about his plans to fatten me. I tried to focus but could only hear a word here or there.
“Come on, Piggy. Let’s get up and dance,” he said, enthusiastically.
I groaned as he pulled me to my feet, nearly losing my balance from being drunk and from the weight of the solid mass jutting out in front of me. He half supported me closer to the dance floor. The beat of the music was fast. I barely moved as he danced around me. I moved close to him and whispered that I was going to the ladies room. He shook his head, told me to hurry, and danced on. I did hurry – right out the front door. I hailed a cab, struggling to get in. I told the cabbie to go back to the hotel and he took off quickly, leaving Jahn in the dust.
By the time I reached the hotel, I had begun to feel just how overfed I was. My grossly swollen belly wouldn’t let me bend forward. I couldn’t free myself of the zipper in my pants, so I had to kneel on the floor to access the lower drawer and a pair of scissors to cut myself free. I slowly lowered myself to the bed, but once getting there couldn’t get up again – unless I wanted to try to roll myself to the side. I was stuck moaning, groaning, and rubbing my abused belly most of the night.
I was glad I wasn’t meeting with Bryan until closer to ten o’clock today. I was still recovering from being stuffed silly the evening before. My belly had shrunk back down quite a lot, but was still not as flat as it had been. Jahn was definitely not someone I would want to be associated with. He was only concerned with his own comfort. After my experience with Jahn, I decided to keep the alcohol within limits; I needed to keep my wits about me.
I chose a more comfortable outfit for today. I put on a white tank top that stopped just below my ribcage and a button down shirt to layer over it. My cropped pants had an elastic waistband; a pair of flip flops finished the outfit.
I left early and walked down to the cafe to meet with Bryan. He had told me that he was a college professor teaching medieval history at the university in the city. We had seemed to click during our frequently chats online and telephone conversations. He seemed very down to earth. I was very eager to finally get to meet him in person.
We both arrived at just before 10 o’clock. Now, Bryan was more of my kind of guy. First of all, he was way better looking than in his photo. He looked very handsome in his neatly pressed Dockers and Izod shirt, which barely contained his well-rounded belly and chunky thighs. Bryan was about 285 pounds according to his profile and stood 5’10. It looked like he had put on a little weight; his handsome face appeared fleshier, especially under the chin.
He brushed his sandy hair off his forehead and then shook my hand. He held the door open as he showed me inside the busy restaurant. We were seated right away. Bryan and I munched hungrily on a basket of sweet rolls as we perused the menu. I chose a Bellini with a stack of blueberry flapjacks, plump sausages, a cheese and mushroom omelet, and a side of hash browns. Bryan selected corned beef hash with a side of waffles piled high with whipped cream and strawberries.
As we spoke, I was immediately attracted to his intellect, dry wit, and infectious laugh. This was more like a standard date than the meeting the night before with Jahn. This man was very articulate, but made sure that I had a fair share of the conversation.
“So, what are some of your favorite desserts?” he asked me.
“I absolutely adore donuts – not the store-bought kind. I love the kinds that come fresh from the bakery. I can go though boxes of them before I realize that I overdid it. They’re just so delicious,” I replied.
Breakfast arrived and we sent back the empty basket of rolls a third time. We both heartily dove into our meals. For awhile, the table was silent except for an occasionally interjection from one of us, but it was a comfortable silence like we’ve known each other for a very long time. I found myself getting very turned on watching Bryan’s belly swell over his belt. I watch as he plumped up in front of my eyes. I knew Bryan was equally excited watching, as the imprint of my expanding belly could be easily seen stretching out my shirt. My belly began to puff out more as I approached finishing my breakfast.
Bryan sweetly offered me some of his strawberries. Although quite stuffed, I figured a few wouldn’t hurt. He fed me one after another drenched in sweet whipped cream.
“So, why would you want to be my feeder?” I asked.
“Well, I’m hoping for a bit more than that as you know. I would be happy also with a mutual gaining relationship. I’d love to see your beautiful body get bigger. I want to expand your horizons trying new trends in food and trying new activities like … I’ve always wanted to try kayaking,” Bryan explained.
“If you expand my horizons too much, I fear that neither one of us will be able to fit in the kayak,” I laughed.
Bryan chuckled, “Yeah, I guess we’ll just have to stick to a canoe, or perhaps take up fishing on a rather large boat.”
Story continued in post 2 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 07-06-2007 at 08:11 PM.
|07-06-2007, 06:54 PM||#2|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Breakfast almost took until lunch. Bryan insisted that I eat slowly so I could savor every bite. When I finished, my belly was slightly enlarged and I was comfortably full. I thanked Bryan, promising to call him and possibly get together on Sunday for brunch. I hated to hurry out, but my lunch date with Dan was in less than an hour and I had to get across town to meet up with him. I walked briskly across town and took a subway to Greenwich Village to a Polish restaurant Dan had chosen.
Dan waited outside and waved at me as I approached. Dan also had light hair which was streaked with blonde highlights. He had a chiseled body, the results of many hours in a gym. He wore a pinstriped business suit and carried a briefcase. He looked like he was going to meet clients for a power lunch. But, then again, maybe he thought this was a power lunch. I was anxious to see.
Dan hugged me, putting his palm on my belly. “My, my you’re getting a pudgy belly, Lizzy. But, you look famished. I’ll have to assist you in filling it out some. Come.”
Upon entering, I was nearly overcome with the delicious aromas seeping from the kitchen. It resembled a small diner and was as crowded as the café had been at breakfast. We were shown to a table near the kitchen. Even though I wasn’t really hungry, having just finished breakfast only an hour before, I could still feel my mouth watering.
Dan, who kept checking his reflection in the window behind me, placed and order of perogies and we began to chat. Dan told me he was an architect, working for a Fortune 500 company. He spent most of his time outside work in the gym and drooling over pictures of BBWs according to him. Dan endlessly bragged about his superiority in business affairs and his connections. I was very glad when the food came so he would start eating and shut up for awhile.
I quickly satiated any appetite I had developed. The dozen perogies covered in onions and sour cream had hit the spot. I was enjoying the warming comfort food. The waiter came by, took my plate, and placed another down in front of me.
“Try these perogies stuffed with sauerkraut,” Dan told me. “You couldn’t possibly be full with such a small serving.”
I ate slowly, beginning to feel the effects of the heavy dumplings. I struggled to finish the last one on the plate. My belly was distended and starting to get hard as my skin stretched tighter. I held up my hand when the next dish of perogies – cheddar cheese and potato – arrived at our table. Dan reached over to feel my overstuffed belly.
“Your barely ate anything and you’ve already gotten so plump. I’ll have to work on your capacity … you know you should rethink your outfit. You look dumpy in that, and a nice dress in basic black – you know nice and full, flowing to leave you room to fatten. I see you getting so beautifully round, a fatty, a tubby babe,” Dan said.
I opened my mouth to say something in response when he shoveled several perogies into my open mouth.
“Come on, Tubby. I want to make you good and fat. Put on the pounds. You’ve my new project. I’m going to make you huge and take lots of pictures of your fat body. I want people to see that I’m an incredible feeder. You’ll be my supersized masterpiece,” he crowed.
My stomach felt like lead and swelled out to an unimaginable size. My elastic waistband pulled sharply, cutting into my expanding girth. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, he shoveled more into it.
”You can do it, Tubby – a few more to go,” he coached.
I was nearly exploding when I reached the thirty-sixth perogie, dripping with butter. I clutched in my chair, stifling a belch. My tummy was tight as a drum; you could have bounced a quarter off of it. Dan came behind me, reached around and put both hands on my belly, and pronounced me as filled to the brim.
“There, there, Tubby nicely fattened. My, my are you a round one? Look at that belly on you! Truly a work of art, my fat girl,” Dan said, giving my belly a sharp poke. “You’re spherical.”
“Will you help me up please,” I asked struggling to sit upright.
“Of course, Tubby. I am going to fatten you up to where you’re going to need a forklift in a few weeks,” he chuckled.
Dan paid the check and handed me a business card. It was for a Chinese restaurant a few blocks down.
“This place has a grand buffet. I’m busy this holiday weekend, Tubby. But, I want you to report there every afternoon at 2 PM sharp starting on Tuesday,” he said, rubbing my belly. “I’m going to feed you until you burst every day. You’ll be big, really big in a matter of a few weeks.”
“Listen, Dan. The name is Lizzy. It’s not Tubby. And, I’m not …” I began.
He cut me off, “You’re so sexy babe … Tubby …”
He didn’t wait for my reply. He smiled at the blushing, chunky waitress and took his leave. I was left waddling out, trying to find a cab to get me uptown. I sighed. It was almost 4:00 – only thirty minutes away from meeting feeder #3, Luke, for coffee.
I got to the café with time to spare. The cab ride was bumpy and jolted my inflated middle most painfully. I made myself walk around a few blocks to walk off a bit of the bloat. I’m sure Luke was going to expect me to eat a little and I didn’t want to disappoint him.
I found Luke sipping coffee and checking email at a computer at the Internet Café. I still was having problems getting around and walked up to him slowly.
“You’re heavier than I though from looking at your picture,” Luke observed with a broad smile.
Luke was about 5’6, an inch shorter than me. He wore jeans and a tight t-shirt, which showed off his emerging belly. We shook hands and he pulled out a chair for me to sit. I sat very gingerly.
“I hope my being heavier isn’t a problem,” I smiled.
Luke eyed my bloated belly thoughtfully, “No, quite the opposite. I love it. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I have to confess that I’ve been eating in preparation for meeting you.” Well, it was partly true.
“I am honored that you would go to all the trouble of showing me how large you can get. I’m really flattered,” Luke said. “I have a table reserved out front. I thought it would be nicer.”
He helped me up and we walked to one of the tables in a corner spot out in front of the café. “I can see that you’ve eaten already by how enlarged your belly is. I’m glad I only ordered you half-dozen beignets. They are your favorite, aren’t they?” he said, as our coffee and donuts were brought to us by a waitress.
I groaned inwardly. I was able to smile slightly before he pushed the heaping plate in front of me. We chatted awhile about how he admired my perseverance, even though it was apparent that I was quite stuffed, his job in computer data analysis, and my occupation as a manager in a department store.
I ate about three before I had to stop – stuffed to the gills. The buttons on my shirt were barely hanging on – the button holes so stressed as my flesh puffed out, threatening to show itself given half a chance. Luke gently tried to coerce me to take some more coffee and then try again a bit later.
Luke was about eight years my junior, having recently graduated from college with a Master’s Degree in Computer Science Technology Systems. I found him to be funny, but very young, although his optimism was refreshing. He told me that it had always been a dream of his to feed a woman to excess, to experience with her the different stages of growth from just a little pudgy to chubby to fat and then, if she wanted, to truly, superbly fattened. Luke admitted that he had only been encouraged from online and would be very happy to make this a real experience for both of us.
I let him begin to feed me small pieces of pastry as we talked more. He seemed thrilled by this, but went slowly, seeing my discomfort mounting … but still so excited and turned on by it. Bite by bite, I struggled to eat and then to breathe. My belly stretched beyond what was comfortable and my buttons held somehow, but now larger gaps appeared in between each buttonhole. I dated not breathe too deeply for fear of popping then open or possibly popping myself.
Luke patted my arm, “If you let me be your feeder on a full-time basis I can promise you’ll be twice the size you are now in a month’s time. But if not, we could still meet like that so I could help you grow wide and eat well. You would look amazing several sizes larger. I can see it right now.”
I thanked him and said I’d give it some thought. I cradled my belly, so it wouldn’t get jostled as I walked. I walked like a pregnant woman – my thighs slightly parted wider trying to balance – my center of gravity off. I moved slowly to the curb to hail a cab. A button popped open. I decided to just open them all. My stomach was so engorged…absolutely huge. I rubbed it absently and then turned sharply to my right. Just out of my line of vision, I could have sworn that I saw someone I knew. But, when I turned to see, there was no one there. I guess I was just being paranoid. Must be all the food I ingested. The cab came just then and I got in. I went back to the hotel to sleep this off. I had a dinner date with Nickolas at nine o’clock tonight.
At eight o’clock, I got out of the shower and began dressing. My overeating was taking a toll on my wardrobe. The pencil skirt made me resemble an overstuffed sausage. My belly had reduced in size from earlier, but all the eating I had done even before I began interviewing my feeders had made this once form-fitting skirt, more form fitting than ever before.
Unfortunately, I had nothing else and no time to go and buy something. Thank goodness for the little bit of spandex in the material. I struggled with my pantyhose, pulling them firmly over my thickened belly and waist. The skirt went on next, zipping up the back and pulling the button closed with effort. The peach-colored top couldn’t camouflage my protruding bump. It was pronounced and would most definitely become more so by the end of the evening. I was surprised that I actually felt hungry after all the eating I had done this day. A slight gnawing in my stomach.
Nickolas was my finally interview and then I would make my choice. Already I had disliked Jahn, finding him to have a sadistic side. I knew that Dan would be a good choice if I wanted a regimented routine and no say in the matter. I knew I would gain weight rapidly under his tutelage, but I also suspected I would grow larger than I may want. Somehow fifty or sixty pounds would be paltry to Dan. I could see his goal weight for me in the hundreds. I stepped on the scale I had brought with me…a seven pound gain so far this week. Not surprising considering how I had stuffed myself. So, I was just about 190 pounds. Still too light for Dan’s taste. He wouldn’t give up until I was at least 600 or 700 pounds of solid fat. I had visions of being this giant ball, stuffed with food at an all-you-can-eat buffet, and Dan proudly rolling me out to the curb. Somehow erotic. I believe Dan would leave me there – that is after snapping a number of pictures of all his good work to show his friends.
Now, Luke and Bryan were a different story. Both were sweet and both I was more physically attracted to. "Well, I guess I should give Nickolas a chance before I start deciding," I mused to myself.
I threw a sweater over my shoulders and grabbed my purse. The restaurant was about twelve blocks away, so I decided to walk to take in the sights. I always enjoyed visiting the city, especially in the evening. It wasn’t usually as crowded, electronic billboards flashed from almost every building, taxi cabs flew past with people going to plays or dinners.
I recognized Nickolas instantly. He looked just like his picture – the Greek god. He appeared as if the statue of Apollo had come alive – down to his curly hair which was pitch black, pale skin, piercing eyes, and strong, muscular shoulders. Only this Apollo’s abs was not as rock hard. His dark blue shirt showed a slight stomach bulge. Definitely a Greek god. We shook hands. Although he smiled, there was an air of seriousness surrounding him.
Nickolas showed me into the back of the nearly empty steakhouse. “I’m part owner of this establishment,” Nickolas explained. “I arranged for a table where we can have a little privacy and get to know each other better.”
He eyed me appreciatively as I brushed past him to a table next to the fireplace. It was already laid out with a bottle of wine chilling and two Greek salads. He sat me with my back facing the back of the oak booth where I could get a good view of the entire place. There was a hunting theme running through the place, paintings of animals, rifles crisscrossed above the fireplace, gaming trophies on the mantle.
He smoothly said he wanted to sit with his back to everything so he could concentrate on my beauty. Sappy, I know. But at the time, I was flattered by his compliments.
The booth was very narrow – a tight fit. If I breathed too deeply, I was sure my belly would easily touch the table. But, this thought left my mind almost at once when Nickolas began pouring the wine, signaling that the meal had officially begun. Nickolas said that there were no menus – the food being standard steakhouse fare - so he had ordered for both of us based on what I told him were my favorites. Tomatoes with mozzarella and fresh basil came out with fresh rolls and a chilled seafood salad.
I felt very relaxed with him. There was no pressure and I ate liberally of the rolls and appetizers, as did he. Nickolas asked me what my expectations were regarding his role in my growth.
“Well, I would like to gain no more than another 45 to 50 pounds. I guess I expect my feeder to be very encouraging – not that I need much persuasion; as you can see, I have done a good job on my own. But, I think I could go farther with a feeder. I could be kept full, allowing me to put on weight faster,” I replied.
“So, you want to get fat faster?” Nickolas asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Faster than I have been. My progress has been dismally slow,” I answered back.
He reached out to squeeze and probe my belly. “Yes, I see. You’re probably not eating the right foods in the correct amounts. You need fattening foods and often. Don’t stuff just to feel full,” Nickolas advised. “But to gain fat. I’ll take care of that, my dear.”
He pulled out a measuring tape from his jacket pocket, wrapping it around my ample middle. Nickolas clicked his tongue, and nodded to himself. He then signaled to the waiter, who served a large platter of thick and juicy steak, pasta in a creamy carbonara sauce with bacon and onions, creamed spinach, and mashed potatoes. He served me first with large portions, and then himself with much smaller portions. He cut the fat from his steak and fed it to me – one mouthful at a time. He watched closely as I cleaned my plate and he filled it up again.
He spoke of his partnership in this place and of the other owner’s enthusiasm for hunting and fly fishing, while my belly enlarged, touching the table just as I predicted. I blew up with each bite of delicious food. I had reached that feeling of fullness I adored. I tried to lean back, but I was forced to sit straight and tall in my seat. My waist thickened, forming a great, cumbersome ball in my lap.
Every time I slowed down, he chided me, ordering me to eat, placing more on my plate. “You will finish this in ten minutes or I’ll increase your portions twofold,” Nickolas said with a wicked tinge to his voice.
Thinking it a game, I took up his challenge and finished – just over ten minutes. As promised, my plate was piled high with double the servings. I was already bursting, my skirt’s button popped open long ago.
I laughed at him. “It’s been fun, but I really can’t …”
He reached across and prodded my belly. He seemed to consider a moment before saying, “You’re fairly full and you’ve blown out well. But, your sides need to swell, so therefore eat and eat fast. I have things to do.”
“But …” I began. Nickolas shoved the table into my expanse causing me to choke.
“You’re not leaving until you’ve cleaned every morsel off that plate. Now get going,” he commanded.
Periodically, Nickolas would push the table into my belly to get me to eat faster – sort of like kicking spurs into a bloated horse. And, I felt like a bloated horse. My sides blew out as I pumped myself bigger and bigger with food, my belly aching. When I finished, he pulled away the table violently, nearly yanking me to my feet. Tears rolled down my face as he pulled out the tape again to measure me.
“You went from 44 inches around to …” he began, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “… only 51 inches. With how many pounds of food you ingested you should have expanded at least nine inches. You just don’t seem to have the endurance. You’ve failed the test. I couldn’t possibly take you on. You can leave now.”
My mouth gapped open. Nickolas stuck a roll in it. “Eat it and waddle your way out of here,” he said harshly, pointing to the way we had come in.
I spit out the roll. “You’re crazy, you know that! Roleplay is one thing, but you’re nuts,” I cried. “You have no idea what a feeder does.”
“Hey, Chubby, I’ve fattened up plenty of women,” he answered angrily, poking my immensely inflated belly. “I grew them out huge, bigger than their wildest dreams. And you don’t have the stamina, so I’m not wasting my time with a lightweight. Go put on about a hundred pounds and come back. Maybe we’ll see if you can hold up under the pressure.”
I hobbled out as quickly as I could in my delicate condition. Of course there were no cabs to be found, so I attempted to walk slowly back to the hotel. Before I got a block, I had to stop to catch my breath. I had to admit that I was so engorged that I could barely move. I wouldn’t be able to walk back to the hotel. I had to find a place to stay and wait this out. The movie theater was only a block away. I bought a ticket and sat down in an empty theater.
Just as I fell into my seat, a man appeared before me.
“What the hell happened? I followed you in here, but I had no idea. Oh, you’re huge!” the man cried.
“Bryan? Bryan, why are you here?” I gasped.
“I’m sorry, Liz, I didn’t get there in time to stop all of this,” Brian said, apologetically.
My voice was raspy. “What … what are you talking about?”
Bryan admitted to me that he’d been following me all day. He wanted to see his competition as well as being intrigued to see if I was a fake or truly wanted to do this.
“I’m not usually a stalker. But after watching you across the street at that restaurant at lunch – I was hooked. You really did justice to your meal, and managed to stuff so much into your belly. I couldn’t resist the temptation of continuing to follow. It was quite thrilling,” Bryan explained.
I just groaned and shifted in my seat.
“Now, I’m not being perverted or anything. I’m going to expose your belly,” he said, carefully pushing up my shirt and teaching behind me to unzip my skirt.
I shivered when I felt a cool breeze across my bare skin. He sat next to me and began to lightly massage my severely bloated middle.
“Ouch … ooooh … ooooo.” I exclaimed.
“Sorry, I know it hurts. I will go gently. You’ll feel better as soon as you start digesting some of that. Until then, I’ll try to realize some of your pressure. When I’m doing this, if you need to burp or fart, let it out,” Bryan instructed. “Don’t hold it in. There should be some pockets of gas in there; you’ll just be in more pain if you don’t release everything.”
I relaxed a little as he continued his ministrations to the solid mound of flesh my belly had become. I didn’t do what he told me initially. I tried to hold in my gas. But the strain and the feeling of being blown up bigger made me give in – or should I say let it all out. Bryan simply smiled and said he must be doing a good job.
“You know,” Bryan began. “I never would have believed you’d get so extraordinarily enormous so quickly. I still can’t quite believe my eyes. If I’m making you uncomfortable speaking to you like this, just tell me and I’ll stop. I just think you look so unbelievably lovely.”
“No, keep talking. It helps. I feel …” I began.
“Turned on?” he asked.
“Well, yes. I am,” I admitted.
“If we decide to get to know each other better, I’ll actually show you what a really feeder boyfriend can do for his feedee girlfriend, but for now,” he whispered, “I’ll just have to tell you how luscious your full belly is and how I’d cover it with kisses, hugging you close to my chest…”
His voice kept me helplessly in his power, feeling the heat rising within me.
“You’d shiver as I anointed you with cream, lapping it up, nourishing myself … I’d make a table from your naked body, nibbling, licking, eating all the amazing food you would offer, growing fat from you, my belly bloating and filling out to match yours,” he continued, speaking softly, his fingertips brushing my sides.
I could barely help myself as I felt my hips move in and out slowly, my excitement mounting with each passing syllable.
“I rub my bloated belly against yours as we both moaned in pleasure…” he murmured.
Seeing my agitation, he said, “Then I’d go down on you, my belly aching, brushing the floor as your hips moved faster and faster…”
“Oh, Bryan, I wish you would now … I’m so ready,” I told him.
“I’d be taking advantage – I couldn’t do that. Besides, I want to act out my fantasy with you when you could really enjoy yourself. You’re too engorged right now, I’d hurt you. Although it would be really kinky, this isn’t a private place and someone could walk in. I want to be alone with you,” he replied.
Bryan held me close then continued to work me over until I was soft and pliable, two hours later. When the movie was over and we left the theater, he walked me to my hotel room, kissing me deeply.
“I want to play out your fantasy, Bryan,” I told him. “I want you to be my feeder, my boyfriend.”
“We will. Right now I want you to get some rest,” Bryan replied.
I still had a horrible stomachache. Bryan brought me inside and helped me lay down where I fell into a deep sleep.
Story continued in post 3 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 07-06-2007 at 08:39 PM.
|07-06-2007, 06:56 PM||#3|
Join Date: Apr 2006
The next morning, I awoke to bright sunshine streaming through the curtains. I stretched.
OUCH! I was still terribly swollen, my belly aching.
I looked over to the clock … 7 AM … too early … and Bryan was slumped in a chair near the window, covered in a blanket.
He must have sensed me peering at him even in his sleep because he stirred, stretched, and opened his bloodshot eyes. “You’re up early, an early riser like me. How are you feeling? You were in pretty bad shape last night. I didn’t want to leave you in your condition.”
“I’m okay, just sore,” I lied.
He came over to examine my belly. I winced as he exerted slight pressure near my belly button. “Oh, I can see you’re just fine and dandy, Liz. You’re still swollen as a tick. You’re going to be in need of some TLC today. You need to give your digestive tract a long rest,” he said.
“You sound like a doctor,” I replied.
“I’ve gotten myself into this position enough times to know what to do,” he answered.
“Really?” I asked.
“Well, you don’t think I was born with a gut this size without stuffing myself on occasion,” he said, slapping his belly which quivered ever so slightly.
He ordered room service, which came within thirty minutes – egg sandwich on a croissant for him and a large bowl of oatmeal with tea and a gallon-sized bottled water for me. Bryan propped me up on a few pillows and spoon fed me, stopping every few mouthfuls with tea and then the water.
“You need to make sure you’re eating enough fiber and drinking enough water or you’ll be in more pain today. So, I want you to drink all of this by the time I get back,” Bryan instructed. “I’m going back to my hotel to shower, change, and I’ll be back with some provisions.”
“Bryan, that’s a gallon of water,” I observed.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to do it in two hours,” he said, kissing me on top of the head. “Sip away.”
I managed to drink most of the water and take a shower before he got back to my room. I was sprawled out on the bed with the waistband of my pants pulled down watching television. He walked in with a few brown paper bags in his arms.
“So, what have you brought me?” I asked.
“Some lunch for later, I’ll put it all in the mini fridge, and some movies. You need some extra care today, so I’ll keep you company,” he said having me choose from the selection of movies he brought me. “How is your belly? The truth, please.”
“I’m having some cramping here and there and still feel bloated,” I admitted.
“You may have a little gas. Hungry at all?” he asked.
“A touch,” I replied.
“Good, wouldn’t want that belly to totally disappear,” he smiled.
He went to the kitchen and heated up some broth and brought it out to me. He put a bunch of pillows under my head and back, and again spoon fed me the warming soup. I rested my arms behind my neck, watched TV, enjoying a belly rub in between. I was soon drowsy again. My stomach groaned and grumbled partly from still being hungry and partly from being filled with gas.
I begged for a bit more. But, he made me wait at least an hour in between the small meals he gave me, massaging my belly, helping to release the pressure. Then there was more water, more tea, some lightly buttered toast, more water, more broth…after awhile I felt waterlogged.
At lunch time, he served me an immense salad full of fresh fruit, a touch of goat cheese, nuts, sliced chicken, and lots of greens. I was able to eat this on my own. He ate a 12-inch hero sandwich. I watched as his belly rounded out from the sandwich and the continued snacking during the day with me.
After lunch, at two-hour intervals I was given bran muffins and some more fruit. Dinner consisted of spaghetti for him and a plate of brown rice and vegetables that left me famished and hungry for more, my big belly screaming for sustenance. He reminded me that he wanted me in good shape. He was taking me out tomorrow for a special surprise and my stomach needed to ready for it. He left early so that I could get a good night’s sleep and I had to promise that I wouldn’t eat another thing until I was picked up tomorrow. I promised, rather reluctantly.
I was up early the next day, showered and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. The jeans had been somewhat looser the week before; now I had to lie on the bed to zip them up, and a roll of fat formed over the top. Unfortunately, I had nothing left to wear except for the outfit I would be wearing to Sandy and Bob’s house tomorrow afternoon and I already knew I would have a problem with that outfit as well. Maybe I will take a look for something today?
My reverie was broken off by a knock at the door. Bryan also wore jeans and an Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt; his pants looked rather tight as well. He smiled, kissed me on the cheek and asked how I was doing. I was absolutely fine. Most of the swelling had gone down and I was famished.
We went to a coffee shop nearby where I was treated to three chocolate croissants and two cheese Danish with a cup of coffee. Bryan ate the same, except he added a cherry Danish to his breakfast. From all the eating I had been doing, this barely made a dent. I was not hungry, but far from full, which Bryan said was good since he would be bringing me to a special street fair today. We discussed his fantasy he had talked about in the movie theater the day before yesterday.
“Well, if you’d be comfortable with that,” Bryan commented. “I’d be all for it. But, if you decide that this isn’t something you’d like to do later on, just tell me. I want you to enjoy yourself, Liz. I know I certainly will, but you being in a comfort zone is key.”
“I’m very excited about this. I think it will be a lot of fun. And, I promise, if I start feeling anxious about this, I will let you know,” I replied. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like we’ve known each other a lot longer than just a day or so.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” he said. “Like we’ve actually known each other for years.”
So began our eating adventure. Directly after breakfast, he took me to the street fair. Many of the famous restaurants in Manhattan had their chefs preparing meals out on the street to get you to come into their establishments, and others were offering half-priced meals. Bryan and I went booth to booth sampling everything, but I noticed Bryan was restraining himself. He took small bites of most things, but encouraged me to eat much more.
We spent the day going in and out of several restaurants on the route. We would go in and order drinks and some of the good appetizers or dishes we had sampled outside. Bryan would make sure I had eaten my fill and then we would walk around some more, going into another restaurant and doing the same. And, then the cycle would begin again. By six o’clock, I looked amazingly mammoth, sporting a belly that appeared very heavy with child. I was comfortably bloated with Bryan sneaking a gentle rub here and there.
We stopped at a Japanese place before going back to my hotel room. I went to take a shower as Bryan set up for his fantasy. I came out into the livingroom wearing nothing but a silk robe. Bryan gasped as I slowly allowed the robe to slip from my shoulders, revealing all the work he had done that day. He came to me and kissed my neck, drawing me closer to the many cushions lying on the floor.
Bryan had me lay on the bed of cushions, partly sitting up, as he lit the remainder of the candles.
“Ready?” he whispered.
“Ready for anything,” I replied, lying back, closing my eyes.
I felt something near my mouth. I opened it and a piece of chocolate began to melt on my tongue, drenching it in sweetness…so delectable. This piece was joined by many others each with its own texture and flavor. After the over two pound box was half gone, my belly deliciously stretched again. His lips were on mine, his fingertips descending on expanding belly … exploring … tickling. As I approached the end of the box, I began to feel and look weighted down, shockingly overfed. I held up my hand.
“Have you had enough?” he murmured near my ear.
“Yes,” I whispered back. “So full now. Are you ready for me?”
“Yes,” Bryan said, taking the pillows out and putting them under my backside, pushing my overfilled belly upward. I wheezed undergoing a weight shift … less air … panting, then experienced something cold on my belly and then more and more coldness … I shuddered. I looked upward into the darkness and glimpsed my belly now completely covered with rolls of sushi. I resembled a sushi boat, my belly serving as the platter.
“I’m so hungry,” Bryan said. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready all day. Will you now feed me?”
“Take your fill,” I reply, my thighs parting slightly, my belly rising higher.
I moaned as I felt his lips and tongue moving over my engorged belly, lapping up all the food … sucking noises … chewing … nibbling near my belly button. I shuddered, moving my hips up and down, so turned on. Bryan was moaning in response or could have it been to the pressure of his enlarging belly being forced to spread out so quickly as he ate faster and faster, getting fatter and fatter?
I was able to get a glimpse of his belly; it seemed to be growing out of control, his cheeks bulged like a chipmunk's as he forced more in. He huffed and puffed, seemed winded as he continued to moan and finally I felt the last piece leave me. He grunted in pain, struggling for breath, his belly much more bloated than my own. Bryan rubbed his belly against mine.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Ate so much. Too full … feel like I could explode.”
“It’s alright, relax and breathe,” I told him.
“No … no …” he huffed. “Not finished yet.”
He crawled to my legs, gently pushing them further apart. Then his lips wrapped around my clit. I gasped, my body trembled as he plunged his tongue deep into me, suckling, lapping … I held my big belly as I felt myself begin to convulse, plummeting into the first of many orgasms. I shook as I rolled to my knees and inched to where he lay panting on the floor, totally spent, rubbing his overinflated gut, his pants tented.
“Oh, man, that was wonderful,” he smiled. “I hope it was as good for you.”
“Not quite,” I said, unzipping his pants and bringing out his thick penis, slipping a condom over it.
“No … I couldn’t possibly,” he breathed, nervously. “So bloated.”
I plunged down hard on his swollen member, going belly to belly with him. Bryan began gulping air as I thrust harder and harder, his face going scarlet … moans turning to shrieks … his body seized with pleasure. He quaked more violently as I began to rub his belly, bringing him closer to the brink.
“No! No! Baby, no!” he yelled, tears running down his cheek.
“Yes, yes,” I gasped, taking in a mouthful of air.
“Oh, no! Please, let me finish … aaaaahhhhhh!” It started out as a small vibration, went to a quivering, and then a massive shivering as he roared, holding his blown up gut, his hips thrusting wildly.
“Now, I’m good,” I whispered into his ear, sucking on his lightly sucking on his earlobe.
“Oh, Liz,” he whimpered. “Oh, now that was amazing.”
“And this is only the beginning,” I answered, falling asleep in his outstretched arms.
I must admit that I was very disappointed to find Bryan gone when I awoke the next morning. He did leave a note apologizing. He said he had somewhere he had to be early, giving me his phone numbers, and promising that we’d talk later.
I busied myself by packing up, showering, and changing into a skirt that had become a tight fit. I was surprised by a knock at the door. It was room service with big trays of breakfast, eggs benedict, French toast, coffee, and Danish. The server handed me a note from Bryan:
Wasn’t sure what you’d like, so ordered a few things for you to indulge in before meeting up with your friends today. Eat up. I’ll see you later.
By the time I had finished indulging, I was fastening my skirt with a safety pin and pulling on a puffy blouse that fully disguised my added weight. I packed up the car and reluctantly checked out of the hotel. It had been a wonderful weekend. I drove over to Sandy and Bob’s home where the party was in full swing. There were so many people I remember hanging out with growing up. It was great seeing everyone.
Sandy commented briefly on my added weight. Can’t get past me, she had said. She said I looked happy and it looked good on me. Then she brought me over to a man, in khaki shorts. When he turned around, my breath caught…it was Bryan!
“Liz, I want to introduce or should I say reintroduce you to my cousin, Bryan,” Sandy said presenting me to a smiling Bryan. “You may not remember him, but he used to hang out with us every once in a while during the summer months when we used to visit my parents bungalow upstate.”
Bryan put out his hand as Sandy excused herself to go and meet the other guests coming in. His hand grasped my waist, pulling me closer.
“You knew?” I said, flabbergasted.
“Yeah, when I saw your profile on the site I remembered. I had Sandy invite you to the party, so I’d be sure to meet up with you later,” he said, chuckling. “We have known each other. And, I remember you with fondness, the chubby little girl with the big smile who turned into a lovely, chubby lady with such potential,” he replied, his hand reaching covertly under my blouse to stroke my protruding, softening belly. “Are you angry?”
“No, just surprised,” I gasped.
“Well,” he said, handing me a plate of food. “As you said, this is just the beginning of a very rich relationship….care to share a bite to eat?”
Last edited by Risible; 07-06-2007 at 08:40 PM.
|07-10-2007, 09:05 AM||#6|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: The land that I come from is called the Midwest....
|07-12-2007, 08:52 PM||#7|
Join Date: Apr 2006
|07-13-2007, 05:38 AM||#8|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: The land that I come from is called the Midwest....
|07-13-2007, 07:18 AM||#9|
Join Date: Apr 2006
|07-17-2007, 02:22 AM||#10|
Join Date: Feb 2007
This is the first fic I have come out of lurkerdom to reply to - I think it's absolutely fabulous. The details you add about the practical concerns really make the writing stand out. I like the fact that the characters are distinct in personal styles and interests, and that not all the men our heroine meets are good guys. She has to kiss a few frogs to find her prince, and I like that a lot.
|07-23-2007, 08:32 AM||#11|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: The land that I come from is called the Midwest....
|07-25-2007, 06:52 AM||#12|
Join Date: Apr 2006
|02-18-2008, 07:28 AM||#14|
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Ontario, Canada
Somehow I'd never read this one before--I'm glad I did now, it was just brilliant!
Really good job, Lizzy
"The best of ideas is hurt by uncritical acceptance and thrives on critical examination.."
-- George Polya, mathematician