(cw: feederism, soda chugging, burps, overstuffing)

You know those really big water bottles? The ones that are so unnecessarily capable of holding so many calories much liquid?

Your feeder fills one up for you, but the liquid... it's soda. Not the water you were expecting. You're demanded to finish the bottle before you can have any real food, and you are fucking starving.

Sure, chugging the soda as fast as possible may fix the problem... but then you would have to sit and let out burps while your stomach deflates back to its normal (albeit swollen) curve.

You decide to slowly sip at first, but it isn't enough. What is, really? You start chugging down, your gut jiggling with each hefted gulp.

You interrupt desperate swallows to let out the occasional belch, one hand keeping the bottle to your mouth and the other trying to support the steadily increasing weight of heavy liquid in your belly.

You feel like you've gained five pounds just from finishing the bottle, and yet, your feeder took note that you complained about your hunger.

i want her so fucking bad that i'm willing to leave her house twenty pounds heavier just for the chance to have her call me her good boy to my face.

i want her to stuff me so full that i can't get off that fucking bed i stayed on last time.

i want it to get so bad that the sight of my swelling gut makes her genuinely feral and she takes out that aggression on me while i can't fucking leave.

i want her to pound into my lard-padded body so hard that i pass out.

and i want her to keep fucking going until mommy's satisfied because fuck that would be such a lovely way to be woken up and also take what belongs to you because i would be your personal fat fleshlight.

and i would never say no anyway so it doesn't matter if you ask first. just a thought.

but would you forgive me if i told you i went a bit further than planned and fell asleep like this? surely that makes it better?

hear me out:

your bratty, annoying, fat-fuck little sister who always steals your snacks has done it one too many times... and you decide to mercilessly stuff her for it.

all that food she loves enough to take from you? oh, she can have it. you certainly don't mind.

you'll play it off well enough at first, innocently asking where your treats have gone. she'll make up something completely unremarkable— you both know where they went, after all— straight into her fat piggy gut.

you'll wait it out, giving her time to think she's gotten away with her gorging... not knowing there is more to come.

she'll come home, looking for more things to stuff her ever expanding form with, only to find absolutely nothing in the pantry. she'll rush to your room, about to rip you a new one about how unfair you are... until her eyes meet the pile of snacks on your bed.

the wrappers and labels are all familiar, all the foods she had stolen from your snack stash. this punishment required meticulous, borderline sadistic tracking of your precious little sister's binging habits.

you spend the next several hours intermittently stuffing your sister's face with food and pussy, making sure she never disrespects you like she has been ever again.