BHM The 6 Month Deal (~BHM, ~WG, Stuffing)

Thanks! More coming up right now.

Thank you.

Haha, if he could have moved I'm sure he would have been.

Thanks for your feedback. I did want to let you know that my stories are generally finished before I post them. I just didn't want you to think I was ignoring your suggestions, I always like to hear ways that the story could be improved.

 

Chapter 5

During December, I was just focused on getting through the end. As much as I enjoyed Christmas and the holiday season, I really wanted this stupid bet to finally be over. I had reluctantly given up any hope that I would be able to feed Vanessa, but I took some small solace that I shouldn’t clock in at a gain of more than 30 pounds.

As the month progressed, however, my confidence in that waned. Although there were no more feedings as intense as Thanksgiving, I was still eating a tremendous amount and could practically feel myself adding weight every single day.

Every morning I felt it as I got out of bed. Moving from a prone to sitting position was made increasingly difficult by the weighty roundness of my midsection. Getting to my feet involved more and more effort, grunting audibly as I pushed myself up. Once on my feet, I usually dug my knuckles into my lower back to relieve the tension from carrying around the heavy gut that seemed to stick out further and further.

And while she stayed true to her promise not to push me too far, Vanessa was relentless in her feedings. There didn’t seem to be a single moment during the day that I wasn’t either stuffed to the rafters or stuffing my face. As Christmas cookie season began I was eating so many cookies that I wondered if I could mutate into a real-life gingerbread man.

One day I was getting dressed and found that I couldn’t quite pull my t-shirt down far enough to reach the waistband of my sweats. I scowled into our full length mirror as I tugged at it, but was interrupted by Vanessa coming up behind me and putting her arms around my middle.

“Howya feeling?” she asked.

“Fat,” I grumbled without thinking.

Her eyes gleamed at my admission. I gulped, trying to think of somewhat to take back that little slip of the tongue. Admitting it would only spur her on.

“Mmm, feeling fat? That’s just about the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said softly, pressing herself tighter against me and grabbing my belly in both hands. “Wow, this is getting so heavy. It must really take it out of you lugging this big thing around all day.”

I grunted as she kneaded my paunch, giggling as she lifted it up and dropped it to see it wobble a bit. Then her hands ventured up a bit.

“And look at these,” she crowed in delight. “Are you bigger than me up top? Are they getting sensitive yet?”

I shrugged her off irritably, but she just responded with a smack to my rear.

“And that ass!” she exclaimed. “Darren honey, you are packing on the inches everywhere! C’mon down to the kitchen, breakfast is ready and you got me all excited now.”

I sighed and followed her down, quite aware that a bit of my belly was hanging out from the bottom of my shirt. By the time breakfast ended, the shirt had retreated a few more inches and even my sweatpants felt tight.

I resolved not to admit out loud to her how fat and heavy I was feeling. One of the last things I wanted to do was give her more ammunition for her teasing.

However, it seemed that my single slip of the tongue had only whetted Vanessa’s appetite for more. She was constantly baiting me, asking me how I felt after a huge meal or as I struggled to button up a pair of pants. When I wouldn’t respond, she’d just answer for me, which really got under my skin.

“So howya feeling?” she’d ask as I sprawled on the couch, my recently glutted belly jutting out.

“Fine,” I’d grunt, stifling a belch.

“I bet you’re feeling so full that you can’t even more,” she’d tease. “So full that your sides ache, so bloated that you’d need a crane to get you off that couch, so stuffed that I could bounce a quarter off that tight, swollen gut. I bet you’re feeling massive, aren’t you? You must be feeling like a pregnant woman, watching your body grow and expand more each and every day.”

I tried to ignore how accurate she was in her teasing, but it was no easy feat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One of the weirdest parts of the month, or maybe even the entire six months, occurred at our office Christmas party. My trips in to the office became more sporadic as my weight climbed, and I started to schedule my trips for Thursdays or Fridays since most of the other people liked to be home those days.

Most of the people I worked with were guys, and the majority of them probably wouldn’t notice I had gained weight even if I doubled in size. I knew Julie would notice, however, so I really went out of my way to avoid her.

We ended up getting to the party a little more than fashionably late. Part of the delay was caused by an argument over what I should wear. Vanessa had picked out a pair of black slacks that were quite snug, and a blue button-down shirt that really highlighted my spherical gut. The whole outfit was really designed to show off my weight gain and I somewhat predictably took exception.

Vanessa won of course, citing the rules of the bet. By the time we got to the party it was in full swing. After we each got a drink, Vanessa wasted no time in guiding us to the buffet and loaded up a plate for me. For a while we mingled aimlessly and she re-filled my plate in between meeting all my co-workers.

I was starting to feel rather bloated and the buttons on my shirt were straining even more when I finally heard the voice I had been dreading.

“Darren! There you are!” Julie shouted. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming!”

Her shining eyes and flushed complexion made it pretty obvious that she had been drinking. I nervously introduced her to Vanessa, conscious all the while that Julie’s gaze kept drifting to my midsection.

Julie asked if we wanted to come sit with her at a table and Vanessa quickly agreed, giving me a smirk as she did so.

Once we were seated, Julie went to get us another round of drinks. As soon as she left, Vanessa turned to me with a grin and poked my side.

“You little devil,” she laughed. “You never told me about Julie. Was she your little office flirting buddy? You must have loved coming in to see such a tasty little chubster.”

“No, she’s just kind of a friend,” I protested.

“It’s okay babe, I know you’re faithful. I mean, look at you. You’ve gone through this whole little deal we made and never cheated. Well, never successfully.”

Just then Julie got back to the table with three fresh drinks.

“Julie, I just love that dress,” Vanessa gushed.

“Oh, thanks,” Julie replied. “It’s one of the few that fits.”

“Really?” Vanessa asked casually, but I was too familiar with her to think that was just an off-the-cuff observation.

“Yeah, this place ain’t good for the waistline, y’know,” Julie giggled, glancing rather obviously in my direction. “Too many temptations at home, I just eat all day it seems.”

“At least you’re not the only one with that problem,” Vanessa said, reaching over and poking my paunch.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

Julie laughed uproariously.

“Oh my gosh, I know, I couldn’t believe it when I saw Darren walk in,” she tittered. “I guess marriage really agrees with him, huh?”

“Well you know what they say,” Vanessa winked. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I just like to make sure my man is well fed.”

“Any more well fed and he might pop!” Julie guffawed, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Darren. I didn’t mean to say that, you know, I meant that, I’m so sorry . . .”

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I have definitely gained quite a bit of weight somehow. After the holidays I’ll start working on losing some weight.”

“I didn’t mean to say that,” Julie stammered, her face even more flushed. “You still look really handsome, I mean, a bit of extra weight can look good, y’know, who wants a super skinny guy, sure muscles are nice and, and . . . I’ll shut up now.”

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what you mean,” Vanessa told her. “I think Darren is hotter than ever, and I just love that he enjoys my cooking so much. It’s like he just can’t help himself, isn’t that right?”

I just nodded and ate my last meatball.

“Looks like someone needs a refill,” Vanessa observed, nodding toward my empty plate. “Julie, can I grab you something as well?”

“Mmm, better not,” Julie declined.

“Oh come on, it’s a holiday party,” Vanessa urged. “Calories don’t count here.”

“Alright, I wouldn’t mind a bit more of that chicken wing dip,” Julie relented. “Ooh, and maybe some spring rolls.”

“Coming right up,” promised Vanessa.

She swayed away, her tight bum shifting seductively in her snug skirt.

“Look, Darren, I’m sorry-” Julie began.

“It’s okay,” I cut her off, holding up a hand. “Really, it’s fine.”

“It’s just, I didn’t expect you to be one of those guys who really packed it on after getting married,” Julie insisted on explaining.

“Yeah, me neither,” I said ruefully, patting my substantial gut.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” Julie asked.

“Um, ah, you see,” I stammered, now suddenly on the spot.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I get it. Trust me, I do. I didn’t go to my last high-school reunion because I was 40 pounds heavier and worried what people would say. But you should know that I really did mean it that you’re still, well, you’re a very attractive guy. I probably would never say this if I hadn’t been drinking, but I’ve always thought that and I certainly don’t think any different now. Some people look good at a heavier weight and, well, I think you’re one of those people.”

I blinked, conflicted. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her the real reason I had gained, but I had to say something.

“Um, yeah, you’re right,” I admitted. “I was avoiding you a bit because I had gained weight. I just, ah, didn’t know what you’d think.”

“Well, I think you seem very happy with Vanessa and I think that’s great. There’s nothing wrong with, um, relaxing a bit when you get happy.”

Just then Vanessa returned with two overloaded plates of food.

“Guess I went a little overboard,” she apologized with a laugh.

“Wow, that looks amazing!” Julie exclaimed, popping an onion ring in her mouth.

“Sometimes I forget not everyone has Darren’s appetite.”

“Oh please, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than he has,” Julie chuckled. “It’s cute that he’s put on a little marriage weight but my friends call me the bottomless pit.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” Vanessa remarked, smirking at me.

For the next couple hours we just chatted at the table, entertaining Vanessa with some of our crazier work stories. She was up and down constantly, fetching us fresh drinks and plates of food whenever we ran out.

I was far from empty when we began, but the drinks helped sharpen my appetite and my capacity had been increased enough that I was still able to eat quite a bit. I have to say, though, I was quite impressed (and a bit turned on) that Julie was matching me bite for bite.

Against all expectations, we actually had a really fun time. Almost fun enough for me to be unaware of my constantly tightening belt. As the night wore on, both Julie and I began to flag. When Vanessa grabbed out plates for another round of refills Julie held up her hand.

“Ooh, erp, no more,” she begged off, pressing a fist to her mouth to stifle a belch. “I just can’t, I’m going to pop.”

If she wasn’t, her dress was about to. The material was stretched to near-translucence around a very swollen belly. I was in no better shape, of course, my own belly hanging heavily over my belt and threatening to pop a few buttons.

“Okay, I’ll let you off lightly this time,” Vanessa teased. “But you really must come over for dinner sometime.”

“Sure, I’d love that,” puffed the very bloated blonde.

We all stood up, some easier than others, and said goodbye. When Vanessa hugged Julie I spied her hands lingering a bit on the chubby blonde’s waist. My hug with Julie was made a little awkward by our swollen bellies bumping into each other.

“That was so much better than I could have ever anticipated,” Vanessa remarked as we went out to the car. “To watch the two of you stuffing your faces like that . . . mmm! She looked soooo bloated, poor thing. I thought that food baby might cause her dress to tear.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“No, I most certainly can not! And why would I want to? It was so funny seeing how she looked at you, she couldn’t take her eyes off your gut!”

“Well, I’m glad you had fun.”

“Oh c’mon, you had fun too. And I am happy you have a good friend at work, you should stop avoiding her.”

“I will. It’s just . . . you know, it’s weird. To have people see me like this.”

“I know,” Vanessa replied. “But you should get used to it. Some people are destined to be fatties, and I think you may be one of them!”

“We’ll see about that,” I told her. “I’m in this for the long haul, don’t think I’m giving up already.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’m not letting up yet.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter 5 cont.

The rest of the month was pretty nice. We enjoyed our first holiday season as a married couple, and the feeding actually took a bit of a back seat. Don’t get me wrong, I was still eating an impressive amount of food each day, but for the most part we were focused on doing all the cliched stuff - decorating and buying presents and watching Christmas movies together.

Slowly the year drew to a close, and at midnight on New Years’, I drew Vanessa in for a kiss and gave thanks that this was all finally over.

The next year I woke up late and wandered down to the kitchen. Vanessa was waiting for me with a large breakfast.

“Sit down and dig in,” she directed.

“Yeah right,” I laughed. “Nice try. Let’s get this weigh-in over with.”

“Not so fast, porky,” Vanessa shot back. “Did you forget about the little matter of the penalties?”

My heart sunk, somehow it had completely slipped my mind.

“Crap,” I muttered, sitting down.

Vanessa smiled and hummed to herself as she served me, bouncing happily around the kitchen as I ate robotically. By the time I was done, the all too familiar stretch and ache of an overfull stomach was back. I had thought I’d never have to feel that way again, but it turned out I had three more weeks of it.

And Vanessa did not let up. If she had taken it easy on me over the holidays, she made up for lost time in those three weeks of penalty feedings. From morning to night and even a couple times during the night, she was feeding me quite enthusiastically.

I began to feel like quite heavy and ponderous. Between the accumulating weight and a belly that was heavy and swollen from constant eating, I was beginning to move quite slowly. Vanessa teased me constantly - every seam that split, every meal that finished with me unable to get up, every new jiggle and wobble.

Not to mention, she was quite diligent about getting daily updates up on the web. It seemed like just about every meal or outgrown pair of pants was documented for all to see. She showed me the traffic we were getting on our site, it was up to hundreds of hits per day.

It seemed that women all over the country (and a few beyond) were excited to watch me fatten up. Each new video, story, or photo-set prompted dozens of gleeful comments.

Those last three weeks seemed much longer than they should have, but at long last the penalty weeks came to an end. It was January 22nd and the final weigh-in was upon us.

Vanessa was giddily waiting when I woke up. She recorded me as I shuffled over to the scale, wearing only my underwear for maximum accuracy. I held my breath as I stepped onto the scale and leaned forward to peer past my bulging middle . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“No no no no no no,” I whispered.

“And there it is!” Vanessa announced loudly, zooming in on the number. “Darren weighs in at a hefty 207! That’s a gain of 43 pounds! Woo-hoo!!”

207. 207. Two hundred and seven pounds. That seemed impossible. It was surely incomprehensible. I was too stunned to even get off the scale, I could only stare in horror at the number.

“So, that’s a gain of thirteen pounds over the limit of thirty,” Vanessa continued to narrate. “By the terms of the agreement Darren must gain two pounds per each pound over the limit, so a total of 26 more pounds to be gained within 6 months. That will give us a grand total of . . . 69 pounds!! Hahahaha, howya feeling about that, honey?”

I just shook my head in disbelief. How could this have happened? This was really the worst possible outcome. Not only had Vanessa succeeded in fattening me up to an embarrassing degree, I had actually gained so much weight that I now had to pack on another 26 pounds before this nightmare was over.

Vanessa handed me a pair small boxer briefs. I recognized them as the pair I wore for the opening photo set.

“Time for a before and after,” she announced. “The first ‘after’, anyway. More of a ‘middle’, if you really think about it.”

I struggled my way into them, although it was no easy feat. Fat poured out of every opening, exaggerating the extent of my gain. She took pictures from head on, from the side, and from the back. Vanessa giggled and bit her lips as she also had me pose on my hands and knees, flat on my back, and even leaning with my forearms against the wall.

“That was so amazing baby,” she said when we were finished. “I am so turned on right now you wouldn’t even believe it. I’m going to go work on getting these all together and making the big announcement on our site. Feel free to grab breakfast, I’m not going to force you to eat anymore. Just remember, you have six months to gain 26 pounds and the sooner you do so, the sooner this ends.”

I put on some more comfortable underwear and got dressed. In the kitchen, I paused to think things through. While it would be nice to finally get a respite from the feedings, I did want to have this over with quickly. Which meant, and I loathed this with every fiber of my being, I would have to keep stuffing myself.

For the next hour or so I prepared and ate breakfast. There was one point when my stomach was slightly overfull that I nearly stopped. I’m not sure why it seemed so much worse to force myself to keep eating, but it did. In the end, though, I was motivated enough by the thought of being done with all of this.

After eating until I was well and truly stuffed, I rested for a bit at the kitchen table. Vanessa joined me after a few minutes.

“Well, it’s all up there,” she announced. “I can’t wait to see all the responses we’re going to get. This has been like the event of the feederism community this year, and I know a lot of people were looking forward to the big reveal.”

“Yeah, great,” I grunted. “Just fricking great.”

“Aww, is somebody a little grumpy?” Vanessa mocked with a grin. “I could have told you this would be the outcome from the very beginning. It was so cute that you had so much confidence when we started, telling me how much you’d fatten me up and that I’d be wearing maternity pants and busting seams. Did you really think that this was something I thought up the day before I mentioned it?”

“Um, I dunno.”

“Haha, not likely. I started planning this about two months after we had started dating. I figured if I waited until we had been married for a few months, you’d be really confident that you wouldn’t gain any weight. I’ve spent months asking advice on forums, researching weight gain techniques, and talking with people all over the country who have gained a huge amount of weight. This plan has been foolproof from the very start, it was already determined the moment you signed your name.”

That actually made a lot of sense now that I thought about it. She had been very intentional every step of the way. I hated to admit it, but she had really outsmarted me on this one. It did seem that I was doomed from the start.

“So you see,” she continued. “It was really only a matter of how much weight you’d gain. I figured 30 pounds would be the minimum, so it made sense to use that as the cutoff. I was hoping for at least 35 pounds, which would mean you’d have to gain at least 10 more and end up in the forties or even fifties. But this . . . oh Darren, this is even better than I hoped. You’re going to end up gaining almost seventy pounds! That’s so hot!”

It didn’t feel hot. It felt embarrassing. I already felt enormous and the thought of putting on another 20-something pounds was just mortifying.

“Well, I guess I’ll go get some work done,” she announced. “Guess you’re going to need to let that breakfast settle, huh?”

“I guess,” I sighed.

That night I went to bed feeling uncomfortably full, just as I had the prior six months. The difference was that this time it was self-inflicted. I kept overeating, as much as it grated me to do so.

There were only two things that helped take the sting out a little. One was that I could start introducing some short workouts. I discovered quickly that all those added pounds were really taking a toll, I could only do a fraction of what I could before. The goal wasn’t to slow my weight gain, however, it was just to build a bit of muscle so I could lose the weight quicker once I finally reached my final weight.

The other thing was that Vanessa’s ardor hadn’t cooled. If anything, she was initiating certain sensual activities even more often. Barely a meal went by that I wasn’t groped in some way. It was like our honeymoon all over again, and I really couldn’t complain about that.

As the weeks went by I watched the number tick up on the scale with mixed emotions. Each pound brought me closer to finishing this ordeal, but it also made me feel and look that much fatter. For the most part I was still pretty confident that I’d be able to drop all this weight once this all was done, but then something happened in early February that really weirded me out.

I was probably about halfway or so to gaining the extra 26 pounds. Vanessa was out for the evening and I was eating most of a pan of lasagna for dinner. Although I was already pretty stuffed, I forced myself to finish the last two pieces.

As I took some time to relax and digest, I became aware that I was fairly engorged somewhere else as well. Feeling flushed and a little breathless, I shifted uncomfortably. Apparently being painfully full triggered a very strong physical reaction and I found myself wishing Vanessa was around to give me some relief.

Knowing she’d be gone for a while, I decided to treat myself to a nice hot shower. After I managed to get to my feet, however, I found myself drawn to a plate of brownies that sat on the kitchen counter. Helplessly, I watched myself pick up a brownie and cram it in my mouth. My breathing became ragged as I ate with one hand and rubbed my swelling stomach with the other. I only paused to pour myself a glass of whole milk.

Minutes later I was washing down the last brownie with my second glass of milk. I groaned as I gently massaged my blown out gut, it was stretched so tight the skin even itched a bit. My libido hadn’t calmed, however, as I was still in a state of full excitement.

Moaning and belching, I waddled upstairs before getting undressed and easing myself gently onto the bed. My domed stomach mounded up, hiding my view of anything beneath it. I grunted as I grabbed a bottle of oil from the nightstand, telling myself it was just to relieve the itching of the stretched skin on my abdomen.

As my hands ventured south, however, I closed my eyes and drifted into one of my favorite fantasies -

“Oooh, I’m so stuffed,” Vanessa moaned, looking up at me.

She certainly looked it, sitting there on the couch wearing only a pair of too-small panties. Her soft hips spread out to the sides and her plump thighs jiggled deliciously with every movement. Spilling out onto her lap was a spherical belly, freshly glutted on a huge dinner.

“I think you still have some room,” I chuckled, offering her a forkful of cheesecake.

“So full,” she gasped. “I think I’m going to pop.”

“C’mon, just one little bite,” I urged.

“I think you want a bite,” she replied, her eyes suddenly predatory.

“Wh-what?”I stammered.

“Getting a little porky there,” she giggled, poking my gut.

I looked down, my flat abs replaced by a substantial pot belly.

“W-wait, no, no,” I protested.

Suddenly she was on her feet, still unclothed but back to her lean form. She took the cheesecake from me as a I backed away, my legs bumping into the side of the bed and causing me to fall backward.

I was naked now, pinned by my immense gut. Vanessa pushed a fork full of cheesecake toward me with her right hand as her left hand gripped me firmly.

“Open wide,” she cooed.

I did, powerless to resist at this point. She fed me bite after bite and I watched myself get fatter and fatter, her two hands moving in rhythm until . . . until . . . until . . .

I gasped as I snapped out of it, momentarily disoriented. For a few minutes I just laid there, trying to collect myself. When I finally got up and got myself cleaned up, I could only think one thing -

I was in serious trouble.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the next six weeks or so, I put on the last of the extra weight. As I continued to expand, Vanessa teased me constantly. Not an hour went by that she wasn’t drawing attention to how fat I looked. The worst part, or one of the many worst parts, was that it was starting to turn me on. I told myself that once I could stop eating so much, I could finally regain control and reverse this very dangerous course.

On April 7th, I got on the scale and nearly shouted in relief. I had hit the final mark, a whopping 233 pounds. I was immense, so much fatter than I ever thought I could ever be.

“Well, that’s it,” I told Vanessa. “I’m going to lose all this weight now, so you may as well take your pictures to remember it by. By the end of the year I’ll be back to my old weight. And don’t think I’ll forget this little scheme of yours, I will fatten you up. Just wait.”

Vanessa just smiled, looking inappropriately smug. She did take the final pictures and uploaded the last chapter of this saga onto our website. The responses were pretty typical, most women seemed pretty confident that I would fail in my attempt to lose weight.

“Once a feedee, always a feedee,” they would say.

I was determined to prove them wrong.

 

Awesome!! One of my all time favorite stories

 

Not a bad story - but I'm irritated that the descriptions of feelings and body development don't match the time span, weight gain referenced and food/calories consumed very well at all.

Like being 'immense at a whopping 233 pounds'? Seriously? How tall is our protagonist - 4" foot? With the amount of food consumption you describe (like 6 burgers as one fast food snack), anybody would also have gained a lot more weight in 6 months than 67 pounds.

I'm not a weight measurement fetishist at all, but to follow and relate to a story a little logic and consistency goes a long way.

 

Thanks for your feedback, I would love to address your concerns. One of the biggest challenges in writing is clearly conveying your ideas to the readers, and I'll certainly be the first to admit that I can fall short in adequately doing so.

The "immense" remark had to do with how our protagonist feels. The story is told from a 1st person POV, so I'm trying to convey more how Darren feels than give an objective outside account. A pregnant woman may gain ~40 pounds in nine months, but it seems common that they complain about how large they feel. Part is that the weight is gained quickly and part is probably how we each perceive ourselves.

The burgers stuffing was much more than a snack to Darren. I know I didn't say it explicitly, but he probably didn't eat much more that day after the stuffing.

In this particular genre I too enjoy accuracy and a certain degree of "believability". At the end of the day, though, I'm really just writing this for "fun", and sometimes accuracy takes a bit of a backseat. I am always interested in hearing how I can improve, and I will certainly remember your comments as I write in the future.

 

I enjoyed this!

I don't think the protagonist's description of his feeling was too far off. I feel immense when I put on ten pounds - sluggish, too. For someone who is fit, that gain in such a short period would feel staggering.

I really like the pacing - hard core feeding stories sometimes bore me because of the repetition. But this didn't just feel like a sea of the same feeding session, because each one related to his changing sentiments.

 

I don't think it was unrealistic at all. The human body can only absorb so many calories at a time. Six months is 26 weeks + 3 week penalty is 29 weeks. He gained 69 pounds total. That's almost 2 1/2 lbs/wk average, but would have been much less in the beginning because he was fit, and toward the end as his metabolism slowed from no longer exercising, the pounds would have been piling up quickly.

The story contains the feeding 'highlights'. For a person new to this lifestyle it might feel like the feedings went on forever, day in and day out, but in reality, most days is simply just eating more than normal. If he was feasting everyday with the cost of food they'd have to mortgage their house to pay for it all. This is told from the character's point of view and to him it's a relentless onslaught of food. He feels constantly stuffed, 'immense' and so forth.

I think it's a great story and realistic enough to want more.

 

I would love more like that. It hit all my buttons

 

Love this story!

 

I happen to disagree with the comment about being unrealistic as well. Not everyone gains weight the same, especially if you've been super-fit and have a naturally high metabolism. I happen to like the fact that the weight gain actually seems more realistic than most fantasty gaining stories. There are tons of stories where the gain seems disproportionate to food consumption in the opposite way. To me, this story is so good because it seems plausable, wheras a lot really don't.

To the author, please take criticism with a grain of salt. This is one of the most awesome stories I've read!

 

I would also guess that, going from someone who worked out very regularly to someone who did little but walk from bedroom to kitchen and back, after seven months there would have been some loss of muscle mass, so he probably gained more than 43 pounds of fat.

That said, however, I would agree that, given the crazy barrage of food that he was dealing with that the total seemed a bit low to me, but I agree that bodies are all different, and the weight gains we hear about that are more rapid are often with people who gain weight easily in the first place.

 

Thanks. I really admire your work and appreciate your feedback. You hit the nail on the head with the repetition, I find myself going down that road too easily.

Thanks! You definitely explained it the way I was thinking about it when I was writing. Always an honor to see a comment from you, I love your stories.

Thank you.

Thanks!

Thank you, I appreciate your kind works. I may be a little paranoid about making it unrealistic and could be overcompensating a bit in this story. I'm glad you've liked the pacing of it.

You're probably right. Maybe the main thing to learn from this conversation is that we all have slightly different ideas of what is realistic and/or ideal in this type of story. It can be a fine line to walk between realistic and entertaining sometimes, too much emphasis on one aspect may be detrimental to the other. I know I'm far from perfect, but I hope most of you can find some enjoyment in this story.

 

Epilogue

The transition was harder than I expected. My stomach truly had been stretched out to an amazing degree, even normal sized meals didn’t come close to filling me up. Getting back into working out regularly was a challenge, my vastly increased weight definitely slowed me down.

For the most part, though, things went well for the first couple months. My calorie consumption was way down and, despite some sore muscles, I was working out on a pretty consistent basis. In early June I was down ten pounds, and there was really only big problem.

Vanessa had totally and completely cut me off in the bedroom. We hadn’t had sex since my final weigh-in at 233 pounds, by far the longest since we had been together. It’s not like she was cold or combative, she just stopped every type of sensual activity.

It was actually so subtle that it took me about two weeks to realize what was happening. She was just as loving and affectionate as ever, but anytime we approached a possible moment of passion, she deftly sidestepped it.

At first I was a bit taken aback, but I decided to use it as motivation. I’d show her that I couldn’t be beaten that easily.

It turns out, however, that two months without carnal pleasure is quite a long time. My body was confused and frustrated. It went from too much food and tons of physical intimacy to a frustratingly spartan lifestyle.

My thinking became fuzzy after a while and I could feel myself losing traction. Vanessa wasn’t ever shy about parading around the house naked or wearing just her underwear, which made this forced celibacy painfully difficult.

Food, although never a passion of mine before this, also began to haunt my dreams. Every night I’d go to bed with a grumbling stomach. I’d sleep fitfully, waking up every so often licking my lips as I emerged from a dream about a wonderful feast.

My will began to crumble and I think Vanessa could sense it. One morning, feeling extra tired after a particularly restless night, I went downstairs to find a scene out of one of my recent vivid food dreams.

My mouth began to water as I took it all in - cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, fruit salad.

“Hungry?” Vanessa asked, looking at me in a way that I missed so much.

I could only nod. I sat down and let Vanessa fill a plate for me. As she beamed down at me I had an odd sense of deja vu. After I finished my first plate, I held it out for a refill.

It’s okay, this is just a one time deal, I told myself. Nothing to worry about, one big meal certainly wouldn’t ruin anything. Especially after I had been so good for two straight months.

I think I finished four of five full servings and once again felt the familiar ache of an overfull belly. Vanessa took me by the hand and led me upstairs, where she fully and completely ravished me for the next three hours.

I couldn’t even count how many times she brought me to completion. After it was over, I was too exhausted to move.

“Wasn’t that nice?” Vanessa asked, kissing my bloated gut.

I passed out before I could think of an answer. Several hours later I woke from the best sleep I had had in quite some time. At first I panicked a little, worried that this meant I had fallen off the wagon. I ate responsibly for the rest of the day, however, and felt much better.

The next day I stayed focused, exercising and limiting my caloric consumption. The day after was the same, as was the day after that. I felt like I was right back on track . . . except for that nagging desire to binge and be pleasured by Vanessa.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time I faltered was only three weeks after the first time. Then again a week later. Then two more times the following week.

The number on the scale stopped its downward trend as my diet went to hell. Every time I tried to correct course I was betrayed by my stomach and my libido. The two seemed inextricably linked now, sensual pleasure had mingled with overeating until I could no longer find a distinction between them.

Seeing my weight loss reverse by five pounds was enough to get me motivated again. I steeled my will, resisted offers of heavy, fattening meals, and kept working out.

Again I began to make some positive progress, but just two weeks later I was loosening my belt as Vanessa fed me a half gallon of ice cream.

Up and down it went, clothes getting loose and then tight again. Vanessa never seemed impatient or anxious, seemingly willing to play the long game. I resolved to try harder, to do better, but in reality I was backsliding more and more.

From a low of 211, I watched my weight tick back up to 220. Vanessa was beginning to tease me again as I was forced to go back to my largest clothes.

One morning a large breakfast led to some bedroom activities, and then Vanessa continued to feed me there until I was completely beached, unable to roll my bloated form out of the bed. That served as a welcome wake-up call, and I redoubled my efforts to shed all my weight and prove to her that I would not be undone so easily.

Day after difficult day I stayed true. I would be lying if I said it didn’t feel damn good to see the numbers on the scale go down once more. Even though Vanessa’s sexual holdout made it doubly difficult, I was still making progress.

One morning I weighed myself before taking a shower and saw a number under 210 for the first time in quite a while. Just seeing that ‘207’ number staring back up at me was enough to lift my spirits for the rest of the day.

I thought I finally had reached the point that I was invulnerable from Vanessa’s temptation, that I had gained enough positive momentum that I could coast right back down to my starting weight.

Vanessa proved once again, though, that she enjoyed disillusioning me of such fantasies.

One evening I got home from running a few errands and found Vanessa laying on our bed, surrounded by empty plates. Her jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped to show a very rounded belly, a sight I had dreamed about often.

“Ooh, baby, I ate so much,” she groaned, rubbing her middle. “Come feed me some of that cheesecake.”

She pointed to a full cheesecake on the nightstand and I rushed in to obey. Too horny to think straight, I didn’t even question this suspiciously perfect scene unfolding before me.

I took a forkful of the dessert and fed it to her, one hand gently rubbing her swollen stomach. As she slowly ate another bite, her hands worked at my belt and pants to get them undone.

“Help me get undressed,” she asked after a few minutes.

I gladly helped her disrobe and took off my clothes as well. After she laid back down she grabbed a handful of the cheesecake and spread some on herself.

“Uh-oh, looks like I was a little messy,” she cooed. “Will you help clean me up?”

I dove right in without a second thought, aggressively licking her clean. I didn’t even notice that she kept adding more and more, my appetites were inflamed and could not be denied.

Pretty much the whole cheesecake somehow found its way into my stomach, but I was too far gone to care. Our coupling was intense and left me exhausted afterward.

A few hours later Vanessa roused me from my slumber and coaxed me downstairs. She led me to the kitchen, where I sat down and rubbed my eyes. A full meal of pork chops, spaghetti with meatballs, and more was waiting.

I couldn’t find the energy to protest as she served me up a big portion. Nor did I voice an objection when she served seconds or thirds. By the time I waddled back up to bed I was ready to pop, my bloated belly sticking quite far out ahead of me.

The next week or two was a little hazy as I fell back into a cycle of eating and sex. Vanessa pressed her advantage while my defenses were down, feeding me one gut-busting meal after another.

I had a few moments of clarity where I scrambled a bit to regain control, but couldn’t reverse the tide. I began to avoid the scale as I had to go back to my larger clothes.

The weeks dragged on and I could see myself getting larger in the mirror. One morning I began to panic as I realized I could barely button my largest pair of jeans. I resolved to stop this slide and get back on track.

“None for me,” I told Vanessa when I went downstairs.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, picking up a muffin and shoving it in my mouth. “You’ve gone too far, there’s no going back. You’re a fatty now, so sit down and eat up.”

I shook my head, but her words really struck home. She just responded by feeding me a strip of bacon, then another muffin. I sat down as the onslaught continued, unbuttoning my jeans as she packed me full.

At dinner that night I had to actually take off my jeans, even unzipped they dug into my tremendously swollen gut. Vanessa just grinned at me as I puffed and groaned that I couldn’t move.

Several weeks later my upgraded wardrobe was getting a bit snug. I got on the scale again finally, this time at Vanessa’s insistence. I blinked dumbly at it, unable to believe that I had actually crested the 250 mark.

“I have to lose weight,” I said out loud.

“Sorry babe, I’m afraid that’s just not happening,” Vanessa smirked. “You’re my feedee and I would be a horrible feeder if I didn’t make sure your belly was stuffed so full that you have a hard time seeing your knees when you sit. Tonight’s dinner is fried chicken and fettuccine alfredo so loosen that belt, okay?”

My protest was cut off by her hand unzipping my fly and sliding in. My hope of resistance faded away as she fondled me, arousing me to the point that I nearly begged her to start feeding me there and then.

That evening, post-dinner, I reclined on the couch next to Vanessa. She deftly massaged my bloated belly in what was admittedly a very pleasant experience. The voice in my head that freaked out about gaining weight had been getting quieter even as my weight climbed. It still disturbed me somewhat that I had gotten so fat, and I hadn’t given up my hopes to feed her one day, but yet I could not deny that she had somehow made this an extremely pleasurable journey.

“Tell me,” Vanessa said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Uh, tell you what?” I asked, wondering if I had missed something she said.

“Tell me you’re my feedee,” she commanded. “And tell me you want me to feed and pleasure you. Tell me you want me to make you fatter.”

My automatic reply of “No” was nowhere to be found. As her hands rubbed my gut, all I could think of was how nice it felt. It took all my self control to not obey her command.

Vanessa smiled and her hand slid downward. A very small voice in the back of my mind briefly roused itself to warn that this was not good, but it faded rather quickly.

“I’m not going to - oh! - ah, say anything like - mmm! - that,” I gasped, arching my back as her hands worked their magic.

“That’s fine, just tell me you want some ice cream,” she replied, smiling at me in a very unsettling way.

On the surface that didn’t seem to be a very big concession, but I was sure it led down a dangerous path.

“I, ah, don’t think so,” I grunted.

“Okay,” she said, letting go of me and turning away.

“No wait, I want some ice cream!” I exclaimed, the words galloping out of my mouth before I could corral them.

My eyes bugged out as she gripped me fiercely. The last thing I remember before she took me over the edge was her lust-filled wicked grin. She won, and she knew it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Epilogue cont.

On December 31st I weighed myself again, Vanessa reminding me of my vow to be back at my original weight by this day. I grunted as I stepped on the scale, my spherical gut freshly stuffed.

I looked at myself in the mirror as Vanessa bent over to read the number, I could no longer see over my belly. Besides a huge gut that made me look pregnant with twins, I was ‘blessed’ with a pair of genuine man-boobs that were disturbingly round and soft.

My arms were thick, but there was some muscle as Vanessa had actually insisted I work out regularly to support my increasing bulk. My ass and hips had taken on more inches than I would have preferred, but Vanessa told me she liked that I was ‘balanced’. My thighs, also, were thick and rubbed together when I walked, a particular fact that tickled Vanessa to no end.

“What was your original weight?” Vanessa asked.

“Um, 164 I think,” I replied, thinking back.

“Just missed it,” she winked at me. “You’re now weighing in at a hefty 264, an even 100 pound gain.”

I was surprised to hear the number, but looking in the mirror I had to admit that it made sense.

“I bet we can hit 300 by May,” Vanessa teased, swatting my rear.

“Oof, I’m already huge,” I groaned.

“I know,” she grinned. “Huge and getting more huge. Ready for breakfast?”

My stomach growled as if on cue and she laughed delightedly.

“I guess I am pretty hungry,” I admitted.

“Good, wear your sweats ‘cause I’m going to stuff - you - full.”

I knew she meant it, she always did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I groaned as I slowly settled my 287 pound body onto the couch. At least, it was 287 pounds when I woke up that morning, I was almost assuredly over 290 after that ridiculous meal.

Julie had finally come over for dinner and Vanessa of course pulled out all the stops. Dish after dish was served until we were both flushed and puffing, and still Vanessa would plop more onto our plates with a smile.

Julie wore a belted dress, it was snug when she arrived as she clearly had not been losing any weight either. At some point during the meal, just before dessert I think, she had decided to be done with decorum and just unbuckled the belt and dropped it on the floor.

It helped lessen the sting of her seeing me unbuckle my own belt and unfasten my pants a few minutes before. She and Vanessa had both smirked at me when I did so, which oddly caused a sudden stiffening down below.

By the time dessert was finished poor Julie could barely speak, and I was not that much better off. After an hour or so the meal had settled enough for Julie to finally move. She excused herself to go home shortly thereafter, probably worried that if she stayed much longer Vanessa would bring out more to eat.

I think Vanessa and I were both watching intently as she waddled off - her dress definitely riding up more than it had when she had arrived, her creamy white thighs jiggling in a very enticing manner, and her belt sticking up out of her purse. After we saw her off I collapsed on the couch and Vanessa went back to the kitchen, I assumed to clean up.

Instead, she reappeared after a moment with a plate of cannolis. Julie had brought them and I never noticed that they were not included the dessert smorgasbord.

“Oh baby, I’m about to pop,” I groaned right before she stuck one in my mouth.

“I know,” she teased. “You made such a pig out of yourself in front of Julie.

“It’s your fault,”I mumbled through the end of the cannoli, sighing as she fed me another.

“My fault you’re such a gluttonous fatty?” she asked innocently. “I have no idea what you mean. I just make the food because I know you like it so much. Surely you can’t blame me that you keep stuffing yourself until you can barely waddle.”

My reply was negated by a third cannoli as she took out her phone and snapped a couple pictures of me. I knew how I must looked, sprawled out with my pants completely unzipped and shirt straining around my orb of a belly.

“For the website,” she explained.

Yes, she was still updating the site, to the delight of female feeders everywhere. I had given up any protests about it, finding that the reward for going along with it made it worthwhile for me.

She fed me the fourth cannoli and began unbuttoning my shirt while she picked up on her earlier narrative.

“Surely I’m not responsible for your current bloated state,” she needled with a grin as I stifled a belch. “When’s the last time I forced you to eat anything, hmm? It seems all I have to do anymore is put something in front of you and you’ll binge until your gut gets so swollen that you have to spread your legs and let it hang down.”

Her breathing grew slightly ragged as she continued, her pupils dilating.

“Speaking of, I just can’t believe how huge your belly is,” she continued, biting her lip. “You just stick out

soooo​

far in front now, you even arch your back when you waddle around. It’s so funny when we go out and I see other women look at you, they must wonder how on earth I can possibly be married to such a blimp. Lucky for you I don’t mind much, eh?”

A fifth cannoli followed.

“And it’s not just your gut that is huge, your cute little rear has inflated with pounds and pounds of wobbly fat. It just jiggles and jiggles when I spank you!”

I flushed, groaning as I swallowed the fifth and she fed me the sixth and final treat.

“Everywhere, just everywhere, is covered with inches and inches of fat!” she exclaimed, her hands running all over my torso.

From my man breasts and down my sides to the very thick love handles that spilled out to the sides, her hands squeezed and grabbed and pulled, making sure I was quite aware indeed of exactly how fat I had become.

“And still you eat!” she exulted, looking almost deranged. “You eat and eat and eat and eat until you’re beached here like a whale, so full and swollen and bloated you’re practically immobile!”

With that she flicked my taut belly and I belched. Nearly out of her mind with lust, she pushed me sideways on the couch and shifted me so I was on my back before violently ripping off my pants. Her own clothes flew off in a blur and she impaled herself on me with a cry.

All the eating and teasing had taken us to the edge already and in no time at all our bellows were ringing off the walls as we spasmed in release.

For a while we just laid there, probably not a single coherent thought between us. She rested on my mountainous middle, slick flesh against slick flesh.

“Darren?” she murmured after a time, possibly minutes or hours.

“Hmm?” I replied drowsily.

“Thank you.”

I rested my hand on her back.

“You’re welcome. And . . . thank you.”


THE END

 

Thank You. I just loved it.

 

amazing amazing amazing

 

One of the 5 best stories I've ever read on here. I think the pacing and amount of gain is perfect.

 

Are you going to do more stories? You're an excellent writer.

 

Thank you.

Thanks!

I really appreciate that, thanks for taking the time to comment.

Thank you very much. I always have at least several stories sketched out, it's just a matter of finding the time to bring them to completion. It'll probably be a while before another is completed, but I'm not planning on quitting yet.