WG Story Drone
Well-Known Member
~BHM, ~BBW, Feeding, ~Sex, ~XWG – Stranded in the winter snow, John shelters with a sexy feeder woman chef. This is an ordeal?!?
Yeah, definitely a wrong turn somewhere, he thought to himself.
Looking up from his map, he could see some light in the distance and maybe the silhouette of a house. He started the engine back up and drove towards it; maybe they had a phone he could use, he thought. He pulled up alongside the snowy driveway and parked. He made his way up the driveway and to the front door of the smallish, neat little house.
Just as he raised his hand to ring the doorbell, the door opened and before him stood a gorgeous, voluptuous blond wearing a see-through black nightgown and black slipper pumps.
"Hello," she said in a quiet but throaty voice. "Did you break down?"
"No, but I would like to use your phone, if I could," he gulped, taken aback by the woman's beauty.
"Well, I'm afraid my phone hasn't been working properly for last few days, but you're more than welcome to come inside and warm up a bit," she answered.
John eagerly complied. As he set about removing his snowy boots and coat, his hostess eyed him carefully and smiled mischievously.
"I was just about to have dinner," she said. "Would you care to join me?" she asked, helping him off with his coat.
"Well, ah, sure, I guess. If I'm not imposing," John hastily added.
"Oh no, it's no imposition at all," she said. "In fact, I've been dying for some company."
She led him into the small, cozy kitchen and asked him to have a seat at the table. John couldn't believe his eyes! Spread out before him was a complete turkey dinner, as elaborate as you would expect on Thanksgiving Day. Just looking at the steaming bowls of potatoes and stuffing and buttered vegetables, the big, soft dinner rolls and of course the enormous turkey made his mouth water.
"Wow, it looks like you were expecting company," he stammered, not knowing what else to say.
"Just you, I have this strange pstchic ability to sdometimes know when people sre in disdtress - and also what they really like" his hostess cooed, removing a pumpkin pie from the oven and setting it on a cooling rack. "Now, let's eat. I bet you're famished."
And indeed he was. They ate and chatted for more than an hour, when John felt a sudden wave of embarrassment at how much of this stranger's food he had consumed.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm usually not this much of a pig."
"Oh, you're not being a pig at all," she said. "In fact, you've hardly eaten anything!"
John looked at her in disbelief. He liked the abt feeling of being stuffed, but was inwardly ashamed and felt guilty about it. But this woman was minimizing those feeings, axtually seeming to approve of his secret vice.
She grinned and stood up from the table, moving very near John. Then she pulled the nightgown over her head, exposing her luscious, naked body, her large, pert breasts, her full hips, her sweet, creamy skin. John's mouth fell open, and his eyes bulged. Swiftly, his hostess picked up a fork from the table and loaded it with a big bite of mashed potatoes.
"Now, can you eat just a little more? For me?" she asked sweetly.
John nodded vigorously and grinned.
"Now that's a good boy," she said, carefully positioning herself on his lap. She guided the forkful of potatoes into his open mouth.
And so it went for several more hours. She sat on his lap and fed him the remainder of the meal, bite-by-bite, oblivious to his active hands and his swelling belly. When all the food was gone, she got up from John's lap and went over to the counter to get the pie.
"Oh no," chuckled John. "I don't think I can eat another bite for a week."
"But you'll look so much better with a little meat on those bones," she informed him. "You're far too thin now."
John knew this wasn't true. At 225, he wasn't exactly obese, but he wasn't really skinny either, and he knew he should watch his weight more than he did.
"But - but I don't want to be fat," he stammered, glancing down at his now bloated and distended belly which was threatening to burst the buttons on his skintight shirt.
"Yes, you do," she said, emptying the contents of a tub of Cool Whip onto the pie. She set the pie before him, and then proceeded to kneel between his legs and unzip his fly. After a bit of fumbling, she freed his erect penis. She began running her tongue over the tip slowly at first and then a little faster, sending waves of pleasure through John's overstuffed body.
"Now, can you eat just a little pie? I don't think you want to disappoint either of us, do you?"
Without a word John began to eat the pie. As he ate, his hostess continued to suck and lick his penis, pacing herself so he became more aroused as more and more of the pie disappeared. Her sucking got faster and more furious until she finally let him come just as he swallowed the last bite. Slightly out of breath, she sat back on the floor, looking up at him. She observed that his belly had become distended to the point where several of his shirt buttons had actually given way, exposing his fat, round stomach.
"There, doesn't that feel better?" she asked.
John just moaned and closed his eyes, unable to believe what had just happened.
"Well, it's far too late for you to be traveling on these slick roads, so you can stay here tonight. I've prepared the guest room for you," she said, rising to her feet.
When had she done that? John wondered, then rememberdd that she'd also prepsred the meal. She had obviously had plenty of physic precognition. With some difficulty John stood up and followed her down the hall. She showed him into a small room dominated by a large bed, upon which was a heap of soft looking pillows and, unbelievably, a plate of cookies.
"I'll see you in the morning, then," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek. She then left, shutting the door behind her. As John undressed he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser. As a reflex he tried to suck his stomach in, but try as he might it wouldn't budge. Fabulous, now I look pregnant, he thought disgustedly to himself, sliding between the sheets. He snapped off the bedside light and lay in the darkness, trying hard to ignore the huge bulge in the covers his belly made.
This all has to be a dream, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.
John's Ordeal
By Anonymous
(Lightly edited and migrated from the Weight Room Anonymous Archives)
Part One
Darkness began to fall quite early that night, as it usually does in the middle of January. John continued down the lonely, rural road, peering out his windows to either side in search of a gas station or a pay phone. He was supposed to be meeting some friends at a hunting camp but felt sure he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. He pulled off the road briefly and stared at the crude, hand-drawn map that was supposed to guide him there. By Anonymous
(Lightly edited and migrated from the Weight Room Anonymous Archives)
Part One
Yeah, definitely a wrong turn somewhere, he thought to himself.
Looking up from his map, he could see some light in the distance and maybe the silhouette of a house. He started the engine back up and drove towards it; maybe they had a phone he could use, he thought. He pulled up alongside the snowy driveway and parked. He made his way up the driveway and to the front door of the smallish, neat little house.
Just as he raised his hand to ring the doorbell, the door opened and before him stood a gorgeous, voluptuous blond wearing a see-through black nightgown and black slipper pumps.
"Hello," she said in a quiet but throaty voice. "Did you break down?"
"No, but I would like to use your phone, if I could," he gulped, taken aback by the woman's beauty.
"Well, I'm afraid my phone hasn't been working properly for last few days, but you're more than welcome to come inside and warm up a bit," she answered.
John eagerly complied. As he set about removing his snowy boots and coat, his hostess eyed him carefully and smiled mischievously.
"I was just about to have dinner," she said. "Would you care to join me?" she asked, helping him off with his coat.
"Well, ah, sure, I guess. If I'm not imposing," John hastily added.
"Oh no, it's no imposition at all," she said. "In fact, I've been dying for some company."
She led him into the small, cozy kitchen and asked him to have a seat at the table. John couldn't believe his eyes! Spread out before him was a complete turkey dinner, as elaborate as you would expect on Thanksgiving Day. Just looking at the steaming bowls of potatoes and stuffing and buttered vegetables, the big, soft dinner rolls and of course the enormous turkey made his mouth water.
"Wow, it looks like you were expecting company," he stammered, not knowing what else to say.
"Just you, I have this strange pstchic ability to sdometimes know when people sre in disdtress - and also what they really like" his hostess cooed, removing a pumpkin pie from the oven and setting it on a cooling rack. "Now, let's eat. I bet you're famished."
And indeed he was. They ate and chatted for more than an hour, when John felt a sudden wave of embarrassment at how much of this stranger's food he had consumed.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm usually not this much of a pig."
"Oh, you're not being a pig at all," she said. "In fact, you've hardly eaten anything!"
John looked at her in disbelief. He liked the abt feeling of being stuffed, but was inwardly ashamed and felt guilty about it. But this woman was minimizing those feeings, axtually seeming to approve of his secret vice.
She grinned and stood up from the table, moving very near John. Then she pulled the nightgown over her head, exposing her luscious, naked body, her large, pert breasts, her full hips, her sweet, creamy skin. John's mouth fell open, and his eyes bulged. Swiftly, his hostess picked up a fork from the table and loaded it with a big bite of mashed potatoes.
"Now, can you eat just a little more? For me?" she asked sweetly.
John nodded vigorously and grinned.
"Now that's a good boy," she said, carefully positioning herself on his lap. She guided the forkful of potatoes into his open mouth.
And so it went for several more hours. She sat on his lap and fed him the remainder of the meal, bite-by-bite, oblivious to his active hands and his swelling belly. When all the food was gone, she got up from John's lap and went over to the counter to get the pie.
"Oh no," chuckled John. "I don't think I can eat another bite for a week."
"But you'll look so much better with a little meat on those bones," she informed him. "You're far too thin now."
John knew this wasn't true. At 225, he wasn't exactly obese, but he wasn't really skinny either, and he knew he should watch his weight more than he did.
"But - but I don't want to be fat," he stammered, glancing down at his now bloated and distended belly which was threatening to burst the buttons on his skintight shirt.
"Yes, you do," she said, emptying the contents of a tub of Cool Whip onto the pie. She set the pie before him, and then proceeded to kneel between his legs and unzip his fly. After a bit of fumbling, she freed his erect penis. She began running her tongue over the tip slowly at first and then a little faster, sending waves of pleasure through John's overstuffed body.
"Now, can you eat just a little pie? I don't think you want to disappoint either of us, do you?"
Without a word John began to eat the pie. As he ate, his hostess continued to suck and lick his penis, pacing herself so he became more aroused as more and more of the pie disappeared. Her sucking got faster and more furious until she finally let him come just as he swallowed the last bite. Slightly out of breath, she sat back on the floor, looking up at him. She observed that his belly had become distended to the point where several of his shirt buttons had actually given way, exposing his fat, round stomach.
"There, doesn't that feel better?" she asked.
John just moaned and closed his eyes, unable to believe what had just happened.
"Well, it's far too late for you to be traveling on these slick roads, so you can stay here tonight. I've prepared the guest room for you," she said, rising to her feet.
When had she done that? John wondered, then rememberdd that she'd also prepsred the meal. She had obviously had plenty of physic precognition. With some difficulty John stood up and followed her down the hall. She showed him into a small room dominated by a large bed, upon which was a heap of soft looking pillows and, unbelievably, a plate of cookies.
"I'll see you in the morning, then," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek. She then left, shutting the door behind her. As John undressed he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser. As a reflex he tried to suck his stomach in, but try as he might it wouldn't budge. Fabulous, now I look pregnant, he thought disgustedly to himself, sliding between the sheets. He snapped off the bedside light and lay in the darkness, trying hard to ignore the huge bulge in the covers his belly made.
This all has to be a dream, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.
