Weight Gain and Feedism Blog

Not even a full bite, baby, just a nibble?

It's so good isn't it? My eyes rolled back in my head too, when I had my first taste. You've been moaning and humming with pleasure ever since we sat down to enjoy this. It has been a delight to share this with you.

And now you're so, so full. I know you love this part; your body telling you in no uncertain terms how well you've eaten. This is the point where you ask for my hands on your belly, gentle and firm, to help soothe away some of the discomfort. I am always more than willing.

But this time... this time there is something you have to do for me to earn it. You've been talking bigger than usual lately when we're deciding what to eat. You told how ravenous you were today, and how you were going to eat everything you possibly could.

Just a little more? I promise I'll start rubbing your belly just the way you like as soon as it's at your lips. Just... mmmm, well done.

I'm so proud of you, I can feel how full you are, so tight and round just here. Let me really sink my fingers in. You're getting so, so big. Look at how lusciously fat you've made yourself. Pleasure and excess suit you beautifully.

Another bite? Are you sure? You've eaten so much tonight, you've been so greedy. Have you seen how much lower your belly hangs now than it did just a few months ago? If you keep eating like this, you're going to get so fat that it will hang past your knees.

Mmmmmm. I thought you might say that, my greedy, fat, hedonist. I'll bring the desert while you finish the last of what's in front of you.

I'm going to make you so full. I'm going to feed you every bit of the treat I have in store for you, just a little bit at a time. When you start to struggle I will tease your gasping lips with my fingers, and gently slide each morsel in myself.

Seeing the look of terror on your chubby innocent face when I enter your room brings me such joy. And I know you love bringing me joy. That is your job as my plump pet, is it not?

I will restrain you, I will vibe you, I will tease you, forcing you to eat until you can't take it anymore. Only when you're a crying, whimpering mess will I let you have your release. Then after, while you're still panting, you'll thank me for it.

After what's felt like a year, you've finally snapped out of the gluttonous daze you've been in as you realize your gut has firmly pressed itself into the bed.

Just moments prior you were in your usual reluctant stupor, digesting a massive stuffing as we started fucking. It was right when I maneuvered you into doggy style, something snapped. A strange force pressing up against your distended abdomen, friction that you didn't remember.

"It touches the bed."

...

The course begins with a sharp flurry of denial.

"No no no no it's just the way...the way I'm positioned...I was just gonna gain a few pounds."

You feel me in the deepest parts of your guts as you're jostled back and forth, your massive gut smothering itself across the mattress.

"It...I can't be that big. Fuck I can't be that big."

For the appetizer, a deep sense of panic.

"No no no...that's not what this is. That's- I'm not that big- Fuck when did I get this big."

You tighten around me as you panic, pleasure dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck...FUCK....why- why didn't I stop myself."

The full meal begins with quiet sobbing, building into a crescendo of deep, chesty sobs.

By the time you let it all out, you sound like a dying creature and between gasps you mutter to yourself, to which I whisper, through gritted teeth, into your ear, demanding that you speak up.

"Fuck...you let me get so fucking fat....I told you to stop me...why didn't you stop me....please...fuck...."

A tidal wave of an unwelcome catharsis rips away any traces of denial you had left. The epistemological break, the smashing of all previous conceptions you had of yourself: reserved, intelligent, dutiful, self-aware, disciplined. The light of the sun piercing your eye as you leave the cave of your former self. Scared. This is who you are now. Fat. So fucking fat. So fucking fat and all mine.

And for dessert, one of the sloppiest and scariest orgasms you've had in your life.

Deep, guttural moans push their way out through cracks in your sobs. You're out of breath. Lightheaded. You just came all over me. An absolute, bloated mess of a person. Covered in sweat, tears, crumbs, grease, and pleasure messily dripping from your crotch, the last of your self-conception as a well put-together person fades from your mind.

I give you a deep kiss.

"I love you."

what scares you has nothing to do with how the weight is starting to settle ok you. what scares you is pressing your hands into the softening flesh of your belly to feel the firm exaggerated swell of your stuffed stomach underneath and knowing that from the very beginning, you were doing this because you needed more.

when you started deliberately gaining weight you felt like you were taking a dare. you'd probably gain thirty pounds max...right? it was just for fun, to see what it was like and then you'd slim right back down, curiosity sated....right?

of course not. thirty pounds have come and gone and now you're melting into a lavish cascade of thickening fat. your shirts are starting to shorten and the buttons strain and gap as you eat throughout the day. when you catch yourself thinking that your muffin top is bulging more than it did before, you start to admit that it isn't just your imagination. handfuls of soft, wobbling fat all bulging from your hips and chest and ass served as irrefutable evidence that you were eating well these days.

you're indefensibly plump. no one would argue with that. some people are so shocked to see this fatter you that they get too flustered to speak. you wobble and jiggle and bounce and there's so much more to grab and shake and honestly, it happened fast, didn't it? of course they're shocked. You are too, sometimes. but you're not scaring so easy anymore. the shock is one that comes in waves of pleasure.

but still...it's not quite enough is it? a little more couldn't hurt. You're in a gaining mood, so why not lean in? You're starting to know how rewarding it can be when you do.

before you even realize it, you're putting another bite into your mouth seemingly every moment of the day. a cookie here. a latte there. bags of candy, bags of chips and cartons after cartons of ice cream. more pizza. You're indulging in snacks and seconds and desserts and make every reason to eat multiples of everything. you know where this is leading and all you can seem to do is race yourself to get there faster. your belly is going to start to hang, from the looks of it.

how often do you see yourself in the mirror wiping your hand across your mouth that's been so coated grease it feels uncomfortably slick? how often do you notice your cramming another sweet treat past your lips with one hand while reaching for another soda or beer to drink with the other. you used to struggle through chugging a glass of water but now you're used to the dull ache of a stomach stretched out by fizzy liquids after massive bowls of pasta. you crave the deep, thick belches that reverberate through your body that you swore you weren't that into. burgers, donuts, fuck it, you are getting fat. something in you flipped the first time you saw the scale tick up and up and up. now you practically dive into a bucket of fried chicken with courage, dimpled hands unsteady with eager anticipation of glutting yourself again with all that salt and fat and grease.

do they look hungry? give them a nice big, filling meal and make sure they eat every single bite. you want them happy and satisfied, don’t you? if they get too full, help them finish up their meal by feeding it to them. 

they might be a little embarrassed be to so full in front of you, making an absolute hedonist out of themselves, but that’s okay. show them you love them like that by pulling them into your lap as you feed them, squeezing their pretty little ass that’s downright sinful in their tight jeans. run your hands down their sides and to their hips, over their thighs, squeezing all that new, plush skin that has their clothes clinging to them. 

when their shirt becomes so tight it starts to roll up, go ahead and take it off for them. you know they’ll just whimper and shove their face into your neck, so embarrassed to be enjoying themselves so much, but you’ll make sure they know you enjoy it. go ahead and give them a kiss before feeding them another bite. or even better, give them a splattering of hickies across their perfect neck while they chug down their favorite drink, make sure you can feel each swallow.

when their belly is nice and perfectly round in their lap, ask them to suck in. watch them blush and whimper and stutter as you run your hands across their round belly, finally landing at the button of their jeans. go ahead and unbutton them, you don’t want your baby being uncomfortable, do you? watch as they involuntarily let their belly out, sighing in relief at the extra space they have. 

and so have the habits. snacking is as automatic a routine as anything else in your day. deciding you wanted to eat things that were delicious and decadent more than worry about how it would make you fat has completely changed your relationship with food. you devour as much as you want, as often as you can. you can't help it anymore; you can hardly believe the extent of your gluttony. your whole life has started to change as you've embraced eating as a reflexive response to every situation. comfort, stress, curiosity and more often, just for fun.

the idea that you might actually get fat has become more real. and despite how you're so noticeably on your way into the category of "chubby", you simple take it as permission to eat even more shamelessly. It's partially out of disbelief; you're still not quite believing that you're finally gaining the weight you've always been so, so curious about.

and so have the habits. snacking is as automatic a routine as anything else in your day. deciding you wanted to eat things that were delicious and decadent more than worry about how it would make you fat has completely changed your relationship with food. you devour as much as you want, as often as you can. you can't help it anymore; you can hardly believe the extent of your gluttony. your whole life has started to change as you've embraced eating as a reflexive response to every situation. comfort, stress, curiosity and more often, just for fun.

the idea that you might actually get fat has become more real. and despite how you're so noticeably on your way into the category of "chubby", you simple take it as permission to eat even more shamelessly. It's partially out of disbelief; you're still not quite believing that you're finally gaining the weight you've always been so, so curious about.

a lil' clip from a recent custom.. i look like a ball of FAT. i LOVE it.