Chapter 3

I had no idea how to tell her.

Every morning over breakfast I thought of her, but bigger, bouncier, and jigglier, eating cinnamon rolls slathered in butter and cream frosting, downing milkshakes for the hell of it, letting her belly hang from her waistband, letting me massage it as she got full, filling just a little bit more of the chair each day and absolutely in love with every inch she gained.

At night, when we were alone, I’d think of her beneath me, hand wrapped greedily around a slice of cake as she tore through clothes, bursting bra straps, ripping panties that could no longer contain her greed, her hips and thighs getting caught as the smaller areas in our apartment could no longer fit her, and I’d tease her, humiliate her as I pleasured her.

Those thoughts never truly disappeared. Pushed to the side, swept under the rug, they began to claw at me, the secrecy of it, it almost felt like cheating on her. I’d told her everything there is to know in my world, my family, my dreams and hopes and aspirations, my kinks and desires and every tiny secret, besides this one. It certainly didn’t feel tiny.

But there she was, killing it in everything she did.

Any attempt to sabotage her figure without her consent felt horribly wrong, at least to me. It was her body, her life, her health, her future, even, in acting. So I still hit the gym with her, ate my avocado toast in the mornings, and balanced our plates as best as we could.

Then she asked me one night, both on our backs, hearts still settling from the night’s festivities, the question.

“Do you ever fantasize about anything else, when we’re together?”

I froze, trying to still the flutter in my heart. “Shibari not enough for you now, Ry?”

“No, Princess, like something else, something fun or silly or different.”

I paused. I’d never lied to her. Ever. Not once. There were parts of me that wanted to believe she was a closeted feedee, hiding from her fetish because society deems it as unreasonable, unacceptable, to love a growing girl. Maybe, just maybe she didn’t even know this existed, and when I’d tell her, she’d discover it, and we’d live the life of our dreams––

“I…I’m not sure if I want to talk about it.”

I never let those thoughts win. This was Rylee we were talking about, who’s jar of kinks were more than enough to make our alone time exciting, passionate.

Her puppy dog eyes looked to mine as she propped herself up. “Ooh, is my princess hiding something?” Her smile was bright, her eyes alight in the darkness of our room, her finger tracing my shoulder blade, down my collarbone, the same she had when we’d kissed for the first time.

My breath caught as her finger traced down my sternum. She was playing games now, and I’m not sure I wanted them to stop. Our eyes locked, and with it, our game was sealed. Her smile became my smile as I traced my lips with my tongue.

“I…might tell you,” I said, but my heart thudded in my chest, the thousands of millions of ideas I’d dreamed rushing back to me, the guilt, the excitement, the nervousness.

“Might?” she asked, hands teasing lazy circles on my chest.

“Might,” I said back, a smile in my words.

Her hands stopped over my heart, whispering gently in my ear, “I think you want to tell me.”

I pulled her wrist from my chest, pushing it down, wrapping my index finger around the base of her hand, pressing it to the bed beneath us. This was the only place in the world Rylee wanted to be anyone but the dominant force, the center of it all. I knew that feeling quite well––to be so strong, all the time, it took a lot from her. And I was more than happy to oblige her in the bedroom.

We teased, prodding and playing games until finally my third climax of the evening spilled from me, breath desperately trying to find its way back into my lungs. In a moment of impulse, I pulled her close, her face inches from mine, lips just a few inches below mine.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course,” she said, lips kissing mine gently.

“And you know I’d never do anything you don’t want to––”

“Callie!” she was dying to know, eyes wide. “I just, for twenty minutes––”

“I know, I know, just––”

“Tell me!”

My heart thudded, racing through my ears, feeling gone in most of my body––but the words fell from my lips. “Do you know what feedism is?”

She paused. God, that momentary pause, it felt like forever. Did she? Did she know what it was? Was she…there was no way, right?

“No.”

My heart sank a little.

I explained it all to her, how I loved her without this, how this was just something I’d liked since I was a kid, how it turned me on like only she did, but I had no idea why. I showed her some of my favorite models, their before and afters, and some of my favorite videos, anything from button pops to stuffings to sex. We spent hours and hours pouring over content, not because Rylee was into it, no, she was curious about my interest, and we talked and talked and talked about everyone and everything in the community.

There was a long moment of silence. Despite the hour, I was so far from sleep. “Show me the first girl again,” she asked, finally.

I did, a before and after of a model who I’d started following from before the time I knew the term ‘feedee.’ We watched one of her videos, a cream chugging, when I felt her finger slide down my right leg, teasing.

I squirmed beneath its teasing touch.

“What if I were this girl?” she whispered.

My eyes flashed to hers, but hers were closed as she pressured me, no teasing, nothing.

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

“What if I were this girl? Sitting in something cute, something that was perfect for me fifty pounds of fat ago?”

Breath was nonexistent. As far as I could tell, I’d never taken a single breath my entire life. The pleasure built quickly, oh so fucking quickly.

“What if I jiggled when we fucked? What if my ass had grown so fat it brushed up against you, so when I sat on your face it enveloped you? What if my belly hung over my waistband, what if my thighs pressed together and swayed when I walked, what if I was your personal piggy, just to––”

It tore through me, the fourth of the night. It was different, carnal and unstoppable. My whole body tensed and untensed as pleasure poured in meteoric waves through me.

Finally, Rylee opened her eyes to me, a little in shock. She breathed, curiosity alit in her eyes. “That was…too easy,” she said.

Still trying to catch my breath, I just nodded in dumb agreement. It was too easy, that felt cheap and guilty…and so unbelievably hot.