chapter 3

3.
“C'mon little pig. One more bite,” Dom said, furrowing his brow, “I had this special made for you, and I want every bite in that growing gut.”

Mac smiled and rubbed his taut belly from his spot splayed out on the donut couch. He was stuffed full and lethargic, as he had been every day since first visiting Dom’s estate. The experience of being Dom’s feedee had been magical, truly the fantasy he had signed up for. Like Dom had said, a driver picked Mac up from his crappy apartment and brought him not just to Dom's estate, but anywhere he wished. Dom tracked Mac's steps, wanting to keep his physical activity to a minimum. During their nightly meetings Mac and Dom spent hours chatting and groping and eating, Mac painfully aroused at what Dom was doing to him. Dom had his chefs cook huge portions for his new feedee, delighting in trying out all sorts of culinary feasts on him to find his favorites. Baked mac and cheese, barbecue brisket, all sorts of cakes. Milkshakes of every flavor. By the end of the first month it felt like Mac was constantly shoving home fries down his throat they were brought so frequently.

June was wonderful. Almost too wonderful. As much as Mac appreciated being eased into overeating, there were times he wished Dom was a bit more… rough with him. Mac was eating more than he ever had, but there was nothing forceful about their meals. No times Dom pushed and pushed until Mac was a sweating stuffed mess on the couch. No stuffing escapades during their bedroom romps. So far Dom had been content watching Mac try and fit more food in himself each day, and his capacity had shot right up. Maybe that aggression would come, but as a month came and went and only three pounds stuck to Mac’s skinny frame, he found himself wanting… more.

‘Still, this is the first time he’s pushed me,’ Mac thought, looking at the half finished cheesecake Dom rolled on a cart towards him. ‘I need to show him I respond well to this, maybe he’s testing me.’ Mac pictured Dom standing over a stuffed version of himself, belly swollen like a beach ball. This version of Dom called Mac wicked names and pushed in bite after bite, bringing Mac to the bursting point. He felt himself stiffen, the fantasy clouding out rational thought. Mac held back his glee and brought his fork forward.

“Mmm,” Dom cooed, grinning as Mac shoved in a massive bite, chewing wildly. Dom leaned forward, rubbing his feedee's bloated middle and whispering in the younger man’s ear. “I don’t think piggies use forks, do they?” Mac’s jaw dropped open, the fork leaving his fingers as he felt dampness leak into his underwear.

“Yes,” he mumbled, and Dom frowned, moving the tray to the floor. Mac hated seeing that frown.

“Yes what?” Dom said flatly. Mac felt foolish for having forgotten so easily.

“Yes, sir!” he squeaked, leaning over and getting his hands and knees on the carpet. Mac pushed his mouth into the cake not caring about the frosting getting all over him. He took one big swallow and went to rise as he felt his overloaded stomach protest. As Mac had felt many times, the fantasy of actually eating until he was painfully stuffed was more fun than in reality. Mac’s stomach rebelled at the excess, nausea threatening. Mac tried to lift his head when he felt a hand at the back of his neck.

“You’re not finished yet, you’re looking awfully skinny for a pig. You need to improve your eating habits to get big for me.”

Mac felt himself nearly cum. Those words, so expectant and naughty. Dom’s plan for Mac’s body was laid out so matter of factly. Sure it was just twenty pounds, but the way Dom talked it felt like so much more. Mac looked down at the half a cake remaining. In truth his stomach felt tight as a drum. Growing up, he was the kid who always left part of his meal unfinished. Much of that was the early discovery of his fetish and fighting against it at all costs. If he never finished his food, there was no way he could get fat, right? That left Mac with a small stomach that hated to stretch, yet Mac opened his mouth wide and plunged back in, swooning as he felt Dom’s hand push him further in.

‘I have to keep pushing,’ Mac thought, chewing wildly and taking quick, successive bites, ‘if I don’t prove myself here, there's no way Dom will want to continue with me.’

Sounds of eating and Dom’s encouraging coos moved across the dining room. Lust fought off nausea, helped by Dom’s encouraging strokes on Mac’s hard member. It took nearly a half hour, and though his nose and cheeks were covered in a layer of cake Mac managed to finish. He flopped onto his back, belly mounded painfully to a dome above him. Dom moved his hand from the back of Mac’s head to his distended stomach, giving an appreciative pat.

“Good boy.”

Mac arched his spine to try and get relief from the pressure and let out a small belch. He was truly beached, so overfull there was no way he was moving from this spot on the floor.

“But you’re not quite done.”

Mac felt his cock twitch as Dom ran a fat finger over his lips and cheeks, scooping up the remaining cheesecake and shoving the finger deep in Mac's mouth. The look of arousal was plain on Dom’s face, Mac could practically see him adding up all the calories he had just forced into him. The feeling of Dom’s hand on his stomach was overwhelming when paired with the intense pressure. Mac melted as his feeder rubbed at the bloat, his praise for Mac’s gluttonous display pure ecstasy. Dom tugged Mac’s underwear off his bloated form, towering over him.

“Now you’re eating like a piggy," the grey-haired man said with a wicked grin, "I think you’ve earned a reward.”

Mac lay there motionless as Dom knelt low. The older man took Mac in his mouth. It was the first time he had been given this kind of reward. Before he knew it, Mac felt an intense release, and faded into darkness, belly churning.

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