Breeder feeder

chapters 10-11

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10

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He walks over toward us, toward her, again calmly but intensely, his eyes relaxed and his comforting smile on his face. She turns to him, her back against the entrance before us, her soft wide bottom mashed up against the wall as firmly back as she can get.

When he arrives, he pauses. He smiles down at her gently, and makes the same deep-throated cooing sound he'd made before. She breathes in sharply, and shivers. Her breath quickens. He reached down again, and she doesn’t wait for him, but bites his hand again. He doesn’t pull away or recoil this time, but grimaces a little as she holds on tightly, a drop of blood rolling down her chin. His face is firm, dominant, and he bends down over her steadily but not slowly, her eyes growing wide, and bites her on the lower side nape of her neck, just by the shoulder, taking her entire, small, muscle there into his mouth, and her body instantly begins to go limp, as she involuntarily makes, for the first time I've ever heard, a soft high-pitched sound exactly like his cooing, but feminine, and whimpering at the end, and her mouth opens reflexively, releasing him, as her eyes close, and her tail wraps loosely against his thigh. His bite is not hard enough to draw blood, but firm, and he wraps his other arm around the small of her narrow back, all the way around her tiny wasp waist, and holds her firmly, and she goes limp in his arms as his other hand reaches down in a flash and scoops her up.

When she opens her eyes, he is carrying her back to her pillows, his massive muscles wrapped around and holding her small lithe body, and he sits down upon her bedding, squishing it much more than it'd ever felt before, his great form sinking into it, and he pulls the platter of food over to himself. He takes a bit of food and presses it to her lips. Her expression is unreadable, but her body speaks of fast-fading defiance. He bends his head down over her, as if to bite her again, but instead his lips almost meet hers, and he coos at her again, the deep sound reverberating around them. And he holds like that for many seconds, a whine escapes her as she bites her lips, and the whine morphs into the same cooing, soft and high compared to his, and the sounds meld together, and her lips breach the last few millimeters to his as the sounds mingle and harmonize and he kisses her for the first time.

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They kiss for long minutes, her slim small arms wrapping his huge wide shoulders and neck as best they can. Finally he breaks the kiss, gently, and she moans at him, her eyes only barely opening, her hand mixed into his curly dark hair. He brings a bite of food back to her mouth, against her lips, and his nose just brushes hers, and she opens her lips immediately this time, as if in reflex, irrespective of any remaining will or worry or anxiety or caution. He softly presses the bite into her mouth and she chews and swallows and another bite is at her entrance already, and she takes it too in and consumes it, and then another bite is there, and then another, and another, and another after that. Slowly, gently, firmly, steadfastly, and rhythmically he feeds her bite after bite the entire platter. Before it is finished we quietly set another next to him, and he feeds her from that too.


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11

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Her tummy is grossly distended in a way I've never seen on her before, not after her most starved day, not after she's been missing for two days and hasn't eaten a bite, never, when finally she moans. But she doesn't stir beyond that, and he begins rubbing her belly, and she purrs, and soon begins snoring in his arms. But he isn't done. Her tiny belly needs to be stretched.

He rubs her belly for several minutes, perhaps half an hour, as she sleeps, her uncomfortable snores relaxing into a gentle rhythm as he helps break up the thousands of calories of fatty food within her small, slim, firm tummy, rubbing the hard ball until she is finally relaxed, her belly beginning to have just a bit of visible give. And then his hand slips lower in its circles of rubbing, lower, lower, and she stirs in her sleep, and he moves slowly lower in his circles, and her breathing deepens, and finally he is at her mons, and her arms tighten around him in her sleep, and finally he is at her clit, and she moans and her eyes flutter briefly. She begins panting gently, and after a minute squirming slightly. When her eyes open and look at him, her pupils wide as they've ever been, she is on the verge of climax. And he stops. She convulses lightly in frustrated anticipation, but he holds her gently still. He kisses her again, and she kisses him back, but her part-closed eyes are heavy in expectation, anticipation, though of what she knows not of yet. And he slowly brings more food to her mouth, and she looks at him, and he stares into her, and strokes her vulva again gently, and she moans and her mouth opens and her eyes close and he masturbates her and feeds her the entire rest of the second tray.

When he finally finishes, it has been hours we've been standing there watching in fascination. She is barely conscious, looking into his eyes as he holds her vulva, she has done very well, had submitted completely, and now he finally shows her that he is pleased with her, and slowly but firmly strokes her to what is possibly the first climax of her life.

Her aftershocks appear to go on for minutes, but she's passed out on the instant, her body now convulsing gently and rhythmically in his arms as she sleeps, as he props her up against his chest and holds her to prevent reflux as her tummy slowly digests and he resumes massaging it gently.

"Good Dloffic," Carl says. "Good fatten Sweetcheeks."


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