chapter 1

He sat down on his plush bottom (which any mention of on my part would make him blush profusely), and studied his belly, which lurched outward from me making sure he was pleasantly full for the entirety of the day, constantly satiated. He knew he was putting on weight- it made him move slower and less often, arms clipping at his hips, cellulite- filled thighs becoming a bit floppy under his skin, once flat butt becoming femininely bulbous. He breathed heavy while going up the stairs.There were even tiny breasts developing , nipples becoming more sensitive as they rubbed more against his tightening tees. The ripe tummy he coddled was becoming increasingly bloated as he put on weight, soft fat covering a semi-hard foodie belly that made him look like he was four or five months pregnant, little creases forming where his skin folded when he sat down, usually a little moist from his sweat in the summer. There was usually dampness that cupped under the tiny moons of his breasts when he was stressed, and this drove me wild.

He used to be so thin and he was so unsure of himself now that his body squeezed and pressed and pulled mercilessly at his clothing- afraid I wouldn't want him because he was no longer trim. He was a switch: 70:30 submissive, absolutely melting when I took control of him, became dominant- still sensual, but with a little teasing and bondage. I've never seen anyone who loved to be weakened and subordinated sexually as much as he. Since he wasn't intrinsically attracted to feederism, I struggled sometimes to blend my fetish in with his BDSM, not because they didn't lock together perfectly, but because he was so shy about his own weight gain it made him nervous even when I brought it up. He became moody as the pounds stacked up, more and more capricious after packing on 20 lbs. His mind bounced between embarrassment and Eros, needing to be pleasured but not wanting to show his sagging, bulging, weak body in order to get it. It seemed to him that he was becoming disgusting, but I saw his indulgence through a completely different lens. Softer, warmer, ample curves, heavy tummy. Sedentary, docile, easily exhausted... I couldn't stay away from him.
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"How was your day?"
He'd walked in the door only a moment before, in good spirits since it was a Friday, but tired from a 10 hour day downtown, sitting nearly the entirety of the length of his time there.
"Pretty good- we've got a bunch of new pieces coming in Tuesday that will need to be priced- might be pretty busy again the tail end of next week."
"Well I hope you're not going to stress yourself out too much- there's leftovers in the fridge if you haven't already eaten- I'm heading up."
It was a little game I loved to play with him- not kissing him immediately upon his return to the door, leaving him alone to eat so he'd eat a little more than he would ordinarily when he was in my presence, hoping that he'd gorge a bit on top of the bloated swell from whatever sinful greasy thing he'd eaten for lunch (which he would never admit to), letting him come sheepishly up to bed after he'd given himself a belly ache. He'd try to undress with his back to me and well enough away so I wouldn't see what he'd done. God forbid I try to touch him- he was so self-conscious about his body he'd rather I was asleep on those nights when he binged in the kitchen before he came to bed.
I felt the warmth of the hallway light dim and then flicker out, no longer illuminating my face and body under the thin sheets as he walked into the room, lifting a pull-over up and over his head.
"Come here baby," I eased his hips towards my body, still sitting on the edge of the bed, "I need you...come here."
"I'm not in the mood," he whispered as I pulled him still closer into me, "You know I'm tired... C'mon... Stop." He tried to suck his gut in and twist away from me. "I'm gross... Stop."
"I know you aren't tired."
I saw the light reflect off of his long lashes as he looked down, temples lightly perspiring, color draining from his face.
"Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?"
He blushed.
"You don't have to be ashamed of your body... I love you."
"I love you too," he said and he bent over the bed, careful not to have any contact with me except for with his lips, and kissed me, deeply, shakily. "I don't want to disappoint you."
"You couldn't disappoint me if you tried," I said as he drew away from me in the dark, "Come back here," my voice wavered a little, still deep and sultry, but wanting him to come back to me, to feel him, to breathe him in.
"You're stubborn you know that?" He laughed and sighed a little as he unbuckled his pants. I got up and made my way over to where he was standing, putting my hands around him, feeling his button-down ride up over his swollen belly, working my arms under his, fingering the buttons that trailed down his torso in the dark as I undid them, sliding the fabric down his arms, letting his shirt fall to the floor. He didn't protest. I held his shoulders as I kissed his back and shoulders, and he put his hands on top of mine and squeezed gently. He sat on the bed and I straddled his lap, pressing my lips against his neck, him not seeing but feeling and knowing I was completely naked except for a slinky black thong, me knowing I should probably be more gentle with him than I planned on being.
I pulled my hands through his hair, pulling his head back so I could kiss his Adam's apple as he moaned, sighing against his neck, "Get into the ***ing bed."
He obliged, somewhat reluctantly- but being submissive he couldn't help himself. The little roll of fat that now graced below his belly button wobbled as he slid his bottom into the middle of the bed, leaning back, thinking that I couldn't see how distended he was- some ugly unhealthy thing squeezing it's way through his protesting organs. I could tell that his belt was pinching the skin on his low belly, especially since they were a size too small.
I felt the heat of his embarrassment as I handcuffed his wrists above his head, and tied one of my soft silk scarves so he was blind for the night. He was now on his back, defeated, hips to head elevated a little, propped up deliciously on pillows.
"Lift up for me baby."
And he did. He was getting so weak that while lifting and tilting his hips up so I could peel his pants off of him, he whined as his body shook and quivered, his muscles aching as I took my time pulling his pants off. He let go of the bridge he'd held and I ran my hands over his straining glutes; now between his legs, I softly pressed on his hips, signaling to him that he could relax downward.
Bending over him, I trailed kisses from the center of his chest to his collarbones, then gently holding his face between my hands, just grazing the soft pouch of weight that sat under his jaw, I kissed him, feeling my tongue slide against his, tasting the citrusy bite of the last big slice of key lime he polished off from the fridge only 10 minutes before.
"I'm turning the light on," I said, knowing that he'd flinch at the statement, not wanting me to see his fattened body in full spectrum. And he did.
"Can we just keep it dark?"
"Not if you want me to ravish you," I sighed in his ear, and he finally gave up and relaxed a little, bones sinking into the lardy additions he'd put on his body and the softness of the skimpy sheets. The room flooded with light and for the first time, I saw his whole body completely unfiltered by smothering clothes and his convenient twisting and turning that obstructed my view of his gained weight. He flinched when he felt the light run over his body, and groaned a little, uncomfortable. Earlier, I'd turned the fan on to help evaporate his sweat as he slept since it was mid-summer and deathly hot in Florida, but now that he wasn't moving, he was cold, goosebumps appearing under the light hair on his inner thighs, his nipples hardening into points. The breasts that had taken over his pecs had settled, soft baby mounds of flesh pushing to the outsides of his body, chasing the sides of his once strong arms. I heard his belly gurgle, and him sigh, and I glanced down to his tummy, now a dome above his body, his own gluttony pinning him to the bed; his hips seemed so low and sharp in contrast to the gorged bump of his taut gut. Thickened skin and fat coated his stretched and abused belly, meal after gluttonous meal stretching outward into a heavy gut, his inattention to his body resulting in the increasingly convex nature of his belly and butt: hips swelling with weight, thighs becoming weak and wobbly from the endless elevators and office chairs in the building where he worked, day after day, gaining weight, day after day. The natural product of unnatural human laziness. I felt that immediate bubble of attraction that so often bloomed inside me that I wanted him so desperately to pop.
I pulled a jar of coconut oil from the dresser, twisting off the lid as I straddled him, taking one white fatty chunk and melting it into oil on my palms, spreading and rubbing it all over his belly, watching him harden, to his immediate mortification, rubbing oil into his deep navel just before pushing my tongue into it, feeling the surrounding fat press against my lips. He was so sensitive. I massaged his fatty lower abdomen and briefly the small pad of pubic fat that I'd never noticed before; a subtle hill surrounding his now throbbing erection.
"Oh my god baby your body has changed so much," I groaned as, with care, I shook his swollen belly, which in turn wobbled the pad of fat beneath it. He moaned low. I ran my hands along his stretched sides, emphasizing how bloated and greedy his belly was.
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