#bee is bumbling

What if instead of royal jelly being secreted from the worker bees, there was a separate class of bee boys who make it when they get turned on?

Their whole job is to be horny, slutty lil guys who lie on their back and leak the royal jelly all day. Wombs warm and swollen as their muscle walls contract, fingers fluttering over sensitive spots.

Maybe the other workers use them during their breaks for some much-needed release. Even better if the breaks always seem to be cut short and leaves the poor bee desperate and bucking into nothing.

You take your feedee to an AYCE (All You Can Eat) Sushi restaurant. You order for the both of you. Your plate has a modest two rolls to work through. For your feedee, they get two long plates with a total of ten or so rolls.

"Remember, you have to clean your plate or we'll get charged extra. Be good for me."

It takes time. California rolls, Caterpillar, Alaskan, Cucumber, and many more all go down bite by bite, piece by piece. They take small sips of water and ginger, but it expands the rice in their stomach just that little bit each time.

I like to bake. I could imagine a feeder trying a cookie and telling me how well I did. I tend to always think I could have done better, even if I know what I did is good. I shrug, but say thank you. Then they box me in against the counter and press a few into my mouth.

“You don’t believe me? Try a couple more.” Warm chocolate and brown sugar moves down my throat. I get full easy, so they move their hand across the sensitive stretch marks that are all over my lower belly.

“Oh, poor puppy needs something to balance out all that sugar, huh?” And only a few minutes later I’m being fed the leftover pasta from dinner. When I get too full and too warm, I’d want to take off my shirt to get more comfortable. Then there’s no hiding how I’ve grown over the years. There are the marks on my tummy, but also down my arms and chest from taking testosterone.

The first month on T alone made me hungry enough that I packed on 10 lbs without trying. The doctor I worked with immediately referred me to a dietitian. To her credit, the dietitian wasn’t really concerned with my weight because most of what I was eating at the time was pretty healthy and she’d seen me at the work gym plenty often. Still, I went from around 180 lbs to now being 210.

Thighs are my absolute favorite part of the body, next to hips and ass. I would love to have a heavy hottie sit on me and pin me down.

A bottom-heavy cutie in lingerie? Adorable. So freaking cute. Especially fishnets with the little pockets of fat being squeezed all over.

Tight jeans? Very spank-able. I’d gladly patch the inner-thigh when you wear them out too, just so you can wear them a bit longer.

A short skirt that hardly covers the panties you let me pick out? Do a little spin for me.

Thigh-high socks? You know your chubby thighs are going to spill out the top, and you know I’m going to want to bite them.