Chapter 2 - soothing away your nightmare

I don't need to talk with you about all this. You really don't want to know that I am fattening you up, I can tell.

And yet I love you in all ways. I just want to serve you and spoil you, to do everything for you. What more could a lover want?

And what I want in return is to make you so gloriously fat!

Think back, and you will see the clues of my special love for you -- all those meals I have cooked, the size of those meals and how fattening they are. And what about those calorie-laden snacks I leave about for you to consume mindlessly as we watch sports on television?

Think about all times you have started for the gym and I would pout. Or I would pull you toward bed or the kitchen.

I always have to convince you to stay with me. "Our time is so precious," I say. "Don't leave me to go to the gym. You can go there later."

But later never comes, does it?

You don't have a clue what is happening.

Think about all the times I have asked you to drive instead of walk or bike. When was the last time you even took a bike ride, hmmmmm?

I am going to put your bike on Ebay next week. I plan to use the money for some new cookware for my kitchen.

"You won't mind, will you?" I ask your sleeping body in the morning coolness.

Think a little about our lovemaking. I am taking more control in the bedroom, slowly but surely. Each evening, I make you do a little less of the effort.

"Each day, sex gets a little easier for you, doesn't it, my love?" I chuckle as you sleep. Soon, you will only have to lie there and stuff your face while I bring us both to massively intense pleasures.

You have no idea what I have been up to, have you?

Think about all the breakfasts in bed I have served you, all the late-night snacking I encouraged, the restaurants and what I order for you to eat, the fast food, all the dishes of ice cream, homemade cakes and cookies, all the lasagna you have eaten, plate after plate after plate.

If you thought of what all is happening, you would know what is going on.

I'm just glad you aren't all that good at connecting the dots and figuring things out. Especially when your libido and appetite get such a great workout all the time!

And oh, the dreams I have for your future! You have no idea!

I dream of next Thanksgiving, visiting your parents and them remarking on how much weight you have put on.

Your dad will look a little worried about you. Your mom will eye me suspiciously, trying not to look at the size of your potbelly. And at the table, your siblings and their lovers will all comment on your uncontrollable appetite as perhaps being the cause for your new shape and size.

I dream of a few years from now, you running into some of your old high school and college loves. They scarcely recognize you beneath all the flab I have piled on you.

Large love handles, a widened bottom, thick thighs, a huge gut, double chin, round soft arms, chubby cheeks, these all mask and cover the slim fit lover they once knew so well.

Your former lovers look at you in shock, not knowing what to say really. I stand beside you smiling proudly, holding you around your bulky waist with one arm as I pat your huge belly with the other.

Oh my. What inspiring dreams I have!

"What do you dream of, I wonder?" I whisper into your ear and watch you flinch.

In less than two seconds, you grimace a little at my words. Suddenly, you shake and startle awake. Your eyes flutter open, filled with fear.

"There, there." I rub your shoulders softly. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yes," you say. "It was so strange, but it felt so real. I dreamed I had grown so fat that I could no longer fit in our bed." You shiver as you tell me this.

"You fat?" I laugh. "Like that could ever happen."

"It was horrible, so scary," you say, nearly breaking into a sweat.

"Oh, my poor baby," I coo, soothing you with words and the touch of my hand against the side of your face. "That nightmare must have been --" I pause a second, then add, "very scary. But don't worry. I can't imagine you ever getting fat." I smile a big toothy smile at you.

You seem reassured now. You nod your head, and after a few more seconds, your body stops shivering.

"Well, let me get up out of bed, and I'll bring you the paper. It's going to rain today. I thought we could spend the day in bed, what do you think?"

You have a big grin on your face now.

"Maybe I can help you forget that nightmare," I say, winking at you flirtatiously. "But first, I'll fix you a nice breakfast in bed while you read. I'll bet you are hungry after such a stellar performance last night, lover."

I lean over and kiss you atop your head.

Before you can say anything, I am out the door to retrieve the daily paper.

And I am deep in thought: "What should I fix, bacon or sausage, pancakes or French toast? Maybe I'll try that new cheesecake recipe today. I wonder if I have some cheese to make some fried mac and cheese for lunch."

I feel a smile growing upon my lips as I plan out our day together. And as I plan your future fatness....

THE END
(or is this just the beginning?)

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: No weight-gain erotica fan or feederism fetishist should feel left out in reading this story. In this tale, the feeder-narrator as well as the feedee could be female or male, straight, gay or lesbian. I purposely wrote this ambiguously, so readers of all stripes and types could enjoy this story however they wish to envision it.

So this is a story for all FFAs, male FAs, BHMs or BBWs, feedees and feeders of both genders to enjoy! The only ones who might not find it to their liking are those who might find it a bit dark. If you are concerned about that, turn back now before you get sucked into living the life of a feedee in need of a "loving feeder" like the one narrating this story.

Have you put on a few pounds recently since starting a new relationship? Maybe this story might provide some dark insight into your situation.

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