Weight gain writing

It’s amazing how much the body can change in three weeks. The alcohol and weed kept her docile and happy. With her inhibitions lowered she feasted. We had to share a bed. So I was able to fondle that belly every night. “Just a little more” she insisted as she reached for another slice. I rubbed her belly. “That’s what you said three hours ago.” As I said access was all that had kept her thin. That and criticism. But I had nothing but compliments and encouragement. the winter weather hid her gains for a bit. A bulky sweater at the dinner table and around the family saved her. But I knew better. Under that sweater was a pair of ill fitting jeans with a button about to burst if it wasn’t unbuttoned. A soft toneless middle that wouldn’t be done eating for hours. The last week we went to my house with her Christmas presents. No need to try them on we had to get going. My family was out of town after a long feast. Armed with the leftovers, an empty house, and a repressed pig I set to work. Of course we would be going out to party. Of course go crazy. Of course you can have more. “Just a little more” that was her refrain. For hours she would promise herself that it was just a little more. But it never was. 

Winter break was the real show. Just my luck to be invited. Just my luck to be a buffer. Her slight fear of criticism would be her undoing. I schemed while watching her devour endless fastfood in the passenger seat. Her belly folding over her seatbelt while her cheeks were bulging with food was distracting. Her belly button was deepening. She tugged her shirt down getting some grease on it. I said nothing aside from ordering more at the next drive thru. No questions asked. Shoving down bag after bag of food. Out of nervousness? Out of greed? Out of obligation. Her groans were music to my ears. And then the tell tale sigh of jeans being unbuttoned. Her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Her belly jiggled along with the movement of the car. I watched as she tried to hold it still with her hands. They sunk into the pliant flesh. I poked it and giggled when she burped. “Making more room?” She laughed and nodded. I rubbed her belly coaxing more out. I had three weeks with her. 

At first it was cute to guys. The first 5 pounds she gained. That little softness. Her boy toy loved it. I saw him grab at her more. But the unexpected happened or rather the obvious. Thanksgiving happened. And as always happens with holidays centered around eating a few more pounds followed. Just enough to have her suck in. Just enough for him to notice. Just a little more to hang onto at night. She had shared that he did doggy more. I had consoled her with many a girls night in and out. Calories aplenty. Each ending with her belly up on the floor. There were more opportunities for my touching her belly. She didn’t seem to make the connection to the food and her ever shrinking clothes. I liked it that way. He didn’t leave her. He just kept it on the down low. Only hitting her up when he wanted some. This seemed to fuel her desire to go out. She danced her way to free drinks. But every night she went home with me after filling her belly with some fattening meal that she wouldn’t remember in the morning. And ahhh those mornings were a sight to see. A hung over soft college girl struggling to button her jeans. Her figure just a bit fuller than the day before. 

The life of a party girl is not the most glamorous. The drinking and hangover cures have consequences. It starts with a slight pinching at the waist. You brush it off as bloating. You’ve always been thin. Why would that suddenly change? Never mind the influx of calories so late at night. Nevermind the complete lack of exercise. Walking or biking to class should be enough. It’s normal to want to unbutton your pants and change into something more comfortable as soon as you get the chance. Most people don’t have abs you tell yourself. In fact you never had them. It’s not fat it’s just skin. It’s supposed to be that way. It’s good that your butt is bigger. You can twerk now. The jiggle in that wiggle is desirable. Your boobs are bigger. Your body is more pliable. It’s sexy. I pat your butt often now. I pat your belly when you eat too much. I pushed my luck one time when you said you had no more room. I unbuttoned your jeans and we both looked down at the soft belly that plopped out. Just a small one. I pushed the food toward you then. 

Beer had been her undoing. That and endless carbs and sweets. What was once flat had blossomed into an alluring softness. Endless flattery had kept her eating. Never an athlete there was no need to worry about her hitting the gym. It seemed the only thing that had kept her thin all her life was a lack of access. But as my roommate that changed quickly. She was an easy target. Before you had started to get soft she had been my focus. My source of pleasure. When she was under the influence she ate like a guy three times her size. First time at a party I had watched her pound down the drinks resulting in quite the impressive beer bloat. A feast of grease had shown her great potential. And a belly rub had confirmed that her composition was perfect for some weight. Some nice delicate softness. Just a bit that would make her jeans snug. Not enough to alert her to the change. No. But just enough to give me something to pat and rub when she ate too much or drank too much. 

But alas it was all in my head. It was just me doing this to myself. I mean yes there had been punishments for both me and my friend but after a while I think it became clear that the punishment was not working. My cousin got bored with it and they were more into each other. But he vowed that should we violated her privacy again there would be dire consequences.

he said nothing other than mentioning college treating her well. She was having way too much fun eating to pay attention to his comment anyway. And I was having way too much fun watching their interactions. Him trying not to like the new softness and her oblivious to his discomfort.

No memory of it but the association was strong. Filled with self loathing over his growing boner watching his girlfriend eat. Why? Meanwhile her groin tingled with each bite.

It’s amazing how much the body can change in three weeks. The alcohol and weed kept her docile and happy. With her inhibitions lowered she feasted. We had to share a bed. So I was able to fondle that belly every night. “Just a little more” she insisted as she reached for another slice. I rubbed her belly. “That’s what you said three hours ago.” As I said access was all that had kept her thin. That and criticism. But I had nothing but compliments and encouragement. the winter weather hid her gains for a bit. A bulky sweater at the dinner table and around the family saved her. But I knew better. Under that sweater was a pair of ill fitting jeans with a button about to burst if it wasn’t unbuttoned. A soft toneless middle that wouldn’t be done eating for hours. The last week we went to my house with her Christmas presents. No need to try them on we had to get going. My family was out of town after a long feast. Armed with the leftovers, an empty house, and a repressed pig I set to work. Of course we would be going out to party. Of course go crazy. Of course you can have more. “Just a little more” that was her refrain. For hours she would promise herself that it was just a little more. But it never was. 

Winter break was the real show. Just my luck to be invited. Just my luck to be a buffer. Her slight fear of criticism would be her undoing. I schemed while watching her devour endless fastfood in the passenger seat. Her belly folding over her seatbelt while her cheeks were bulging with food was distracting. Her belly button was deepening. She tugged her shirt down getting some grease on it. I said nothing aside from ordering more at the next drive thru. No questions asked. Shoving down bag after bag of food. Out of nervousness? Out of greed? Out of obligation. Her groans were music to my ears. And then the tell tale sigh of jeans being unbuttoned. Her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Her belly jiggled along with the movement of the car. I watched as she tried to hold it still with her hands. They sunk into the pliant flesh. I poked it and giggled when she burped. “Making more room?” She laughed and nodded. I rubbed her belly coaxing more out. I had three weeks with her. 

At first it was cute to guys. The first 5 pounds she gained. That little softness. Her boy toy loved it. I saw him grab at her more. But the unexpected happened or rather the obvious. Thanksgiving happened. And as always happens with holidays centered around eating a few more pounds followed. Just enough to have her suck in. Just enough for him to notice. Just a little more to hang onto at night. She had shared that he did doggy more. I had consoled her with many a girls night in and out. Calories aplenty. Each ending with her belly up on the floor. There were more opportunities for my touching her belly. She didn’t seem to make the connection to the food and her ever shrinking clothes. I liked it that way. He didn’t leave her. He just kept it on the down low. Only hitting her up when he wanted some. This seemed to fuel her desire to go out. She danced her way to free drinks. But every night she went home with me after filling her belly with some fattening meal that she wouldn’t remember in the morning. And ahhh those mornings were a sight to see. A hung over soft college girl struggling to button her jeans. Her figure just a bit fuller than the day before. 

The life of a party girl is not the most glamorous. The drinking and hangover cures have consequences. It starts with a slight pinching at the waist. You brush it off as bloating. You’ve always been thin. Why would that suddenly change? Never mind the influx of calories so late at night. Nevermind the complete lack of exercise. Walking or biking to class should be enough. It’s normal to want to unbutton your pants and change into something more comfortable as soon as you get the chance. Most people don’t have abs you tell yourself. In fact you never had them. It’s not fat it’s just skin. It’s supposed to be that way. It’s good that your butt is bigger. You can twerk now. The jiggle in that wiggle is desirable. Your boobs are bigger. Your body is more pliable. It’s sexy. I pat your butt often now. I pat your belly when you eat too much. I pushed my luck one time when you said you had no more room. I unbuttoned your jeans and we both looked down at the soft belly that plopped out. Just a small one. I pushed the food toward you then. 

Beer had been her undoing. That and endless carbs and sweets. What was once flat had blossomed into an alluring softness. Endless flattery had kept her eating. Never an athlete there was no need to worry about her hitting the gym. It seemed the only thing that had kept her thin all her life was a lack of access. But as my roommate that changed quickly. She was an easy target. Before you had started to get soft she had been my focus. My source of pleasure. When she was under the influence she ate like a guy three times her size. First time at a party I had watched her pound down the drinks resulting in quite the impressive beer bloat. A feast of grease had shown her great potential. And a belly rub had confirmed that her composition was perfect for some weight. Some nice delicate softness. Just a bit that would make her jeans snug. Not enough to alert her to the change. No. But just enough to give me something to pat and rub when she ate too much or drank too much. 

sometimes it’s the ones that are turned on by the humiliation and teasing. Being told that they couldn’t control themselves. Being told that for someone who doesn’t want to grow they are certainly turned on by being stuffed. They are turned on by feeling bloated, stuffed, fat, and heavy. But my favorite is that look. That either perfect plumpness or that soft jiggle. I just can’t look away.

I had an amazing dream last night. I was watching one of the feederism videos of a guy stuffing his face. He was nearing his limit. Everytime I have watched a video like that I have wanted someone to push more down their throat. This time while watching I was somehow able to reach in and feed them. He looked shocked but accepted each new bite. He was breathing heavy but I didn’t let up. I started rubbing his doughy middle kneading the soft layer of fat coaxing out burps. I relished the way it just rested in my hand, that overhang. Just so plump and juicy. I couldn’t stop touching him. I couldn’t stop feeding him till all of it was gone. The half eaten large burrito, the third order of fries, the last of the milkshake, the burger, the rest of the soda; all of it now sat heavy in his belly thanks to me. I sat there and palmed his belly telling him how well he did. I’m told him that this would only make these jeans tighter and add more fat to his already doughy body. He moaned with pleasure. And just when I was about to suggest more food my stupid alarm went off.

hey all so sorry I’ve been busy with new jobs and haven’t been posting at all. I have posted new chapters on both deviantart and fantasyfeeder. For fantasyfeeder it’s under Natatat. For deviantart is ntllockwood. Enjoy the new chapters 😊