Chapter 1 - one last time

A girl finds herself unable to resist her Mistress, and winds up tied up and delightfully force fed.
Just a short little one off for the holidays.

BBW, force feeding, female dominate, sexual content, some name calling, part of the Colton Corp. world. Original story, no i do not think this is a healthy portrayal of real world feeder/feedee relationships. This is just a fantasy story meant to hopefully get your jollies off and maybe encourage a few fantasy scenarios or delightful erotic or non erotic binges. I hope you all enjoy and get what you want from it.



"Please please please" she was whimpering over and over.

Thought it wasn't clear if the please was for more, for for less...

Mistress grinned circling the girl tied up to the chair. She made a shhh noise and petted her head. The girls whimpers quieted. Her pretty chubby face was flushed and shiny with sweat. Her eyes would have been glazed and feverish if they hadn't been hidden behind the pink mask. Her lipstick long since rubbed away and replaced with a smear of sauces and crumbs.

"Now now then sweetie. We talked about this. You asked to be stuffed and fed. Pampered and forced to eat. Fattened hugely and properly. You were very clear, and I was very clear. Only ask for what you are sure you want." A slice of gingerbread cake was slid between her lips.

The girl in the chair shifted as much as she could. It was true. She had been warned. Mistress had been clear. But she had asked. She had begged.

Again and again. Over and over.

She didn't even remember exactly when it had started. But once it had, she hadn't found a way to stop.

Over and over she said it would be the last time. At first it had been simple. A few playful phone calls, some messages and instructions on what to order on her way home. Watch a video, listen to a loop, eat an entire pizza while doing XY-Z.

Than finally a few heavy meals with mistress encouraging her in person. A few stuffing sessions in her home. More and more

Each time she was the one who sought out Mistress, not the other way around. Each time Mistress fed her more, now it was often past what felt good into pain and beyond that pain into a mind numbing pleasure of fullness and gluttony she hadn't been able to achieve otherwise. And it had taken it's toll on her body and life.

She was 5'2", she had been slim enough with a slight bit of pudgy curve to her, shapely and soft. But now her girth and weight were expanding out of control. Faster and faster it seemed like, she was slower but her need for new clothes was far more frequent. She spilled out of tops with ample cleavage, her belly and hips pours out over her biggest pants, her thighs and rump kept nearly anything from being pulled up over them. Dimples and rolls, heavy thick pounds of fat all over her frame. You could sink an entire hand into the soft fatness of her sides. Her face had rounded up to two chins and even her hands had turned into pudgy digits. She wasn't sure about her feet since she couldn't see them anymore.

She had started at 130 pounds when this started an average woman. She had more then double her weight by adding 150 plus pounds in the past 18 months. At least that was what she scale and said the last time she had been able to push her belly out oft he way to see the numbers. But that had been a while ago.

It turned her on. She had been lightly snacking before she weighed. Had decided to see the damage before she deleted Mistresses contacts. Things couldn't go on like this she had decided. But as she saw those numbers on the scale, her resolve had dissolved into a fit of hunger pains and need. She had moaned turned to the cabinets (she had chosen to weight her self in the kitchen of all places) and desperately threw them open trying to find something, anything to eat. All the while rubbing her belly and lower. Moaning and fumbling for food. Gorging and groaning. It was automatic. There was no stopping her. It was like a switch flipped and she did what came naturally. Which was to gorge and give in.

And when she was done, after she lay splayed on the kitchen floor, breathing heavy, rubbing her swollen belly, face and hands covered in food, the kitchen a mess, she had managed to lever herself up (it had taken a while) and waddle over to her phone. With trembling fingers she sent a text to mistress begging her for another session, for anything anytime anywhere in any form.

That weigh in had been four months ago.

She had a job, but she was on probation due to spotty attendance. Even when she was there she kept getting caught in comprising positions, or being reprimanded for eating on the job (which hadn't been a problem.. until she started doing it all the time in copious amounts).

But she hardly noticed, everything was about seeking out that next meal, her next gain that next stuffing with Mistress.

But to have a stuffing with Mistress, you had to follow rules.

You had to earn your meeting.
You had to obey Mistress in all things during the meeting.
You had to eat everything she told you to, no matter how much, no matter how long it took.

But the girl kept calling. Arranging meetings. Making deals.

Mistress would agree to meet with her.. if she went to a local buffet and ate so much she got kicked out. Mistress would take her to a restaurant but she couldn't leave till she had cleared enough food for three people. Sometimes those outings would feel like they took forever, but after a few such deals they felt like too short of a time when she considered how much food she had to eat.

Mistress would agree to meet and feed her if she spent an entire day eating and wearing a vibrator in her panties with a remote control being used by an unseen mistress.

Mistress would agree to a meeting if the girl went to a pastry shop and ordered more and more boxes of pastries until Mistress decided to come collect her. The girl had nearly passed out in blissful sugary gorge and had been hauled out by Mistress at closing time. Where she then proceeded to fill the girl nearly nonstop for the rest of the weekend.

Mistress would agree to a meeting if the girl got on camera and ate everything Mistress had delivered to her. For two days the girl gorged and orgasmed every time Mistress sent her a text telling her she was allowed to touch herself. Mistress arrived on the third day with a tiny outfit and took the bloated whale of a feeder girl to her favorite restaurant Oinkers and then back to her place. The rest of the week had been glorious. Gorges and gentle feedings mixed with belly rubs and force feeding. She lost track of pleasure and time.


But it was nearly a month after that lost week that the girl had decided this was it. She was going to lose her job at Colton Corp. She was going to lose her apartment, she had ripped her last set of pants. She couldn't stop eating and masterbating. She couldn't go more than hour without touching her belly in a way that made her gasp. She had to stop this.

But she had to have one last fix- a holiday gift to herself.