Chapter 2

My question is answered in the moment that has passed. In the gaze we have held, as you kneel up so that you are the the level with my pelvis, a kiss to the smooth, bare skin there, a hand cupping my ass. The other reaching below. Stroking the sphere of gluttony that we have created.

I moan. I think it might be your name, I'm not sure. It's lost in that surge of want I have for you. Certainly, the want of you fills me up, and I am grasping you. Wanting you.

Softer yes. Although, still strong. You can lift me. Taking your time, at first to stand. To kiss me, and to let me, wrap myself to you. Pulling your shoulders and in my kisses, giving myself to you with a strong bump. You hold strong. Pressing yourself to me with the same insistent want, so that I almost grind to you as I ram. I only have to help a little, wrapping my legs around you, as you catch the smal of my back.

One day... one day I want you so round, so disproportionately big bellied that I can't do this. That the weight that you feel around your middle as you carry me to bed... well its all your gut. That your swollen stuffed belly may be heavier than me. Certainly, enough to weigh me down. I make a point of squishing my thighs to you, catching and jiggling this growing belly. It might take a while... but a little taste of today.

You're gentle as you drop me to the bed. But there is a firmness to the way you lower yourself to me, a command in the way you catch my hands as they reach for you - holding them above my head so I can't touch the contour of your big belly, nor to explore the curves of my own body. Now here is the heat. It almost burns me – like standing too close to a flame. The building warmth that grows for you - that makes my skin glisten and grow red. You are kissing the rays of sun... and I try my hardest to enjoy the building feeling. I can't however, without begging, stop myself from squeezing your belly between my thighs. The soft, hanging softness as you coax the waves of pleasure from me.

Until...

I want you to have your lips around something else. If you want this pleasure of mine to wash...

Eat for me. Bloat for me. Grow for me.


Until your wide enough to weigh me down. Would you let me force feed you? Its an idea I’ve had for a while? To bloat or distend you hugely by my hand. And then to adore.

A spell of stuffing that words can't describe. Sensations that I don't have words for. Let my body adore you, my glutton. Let me choose when you're full.

I want to flip you onto your back at first. To sit astride you. And guide your journey to gluttony. And I whimper as much. You've parter my legs, and laid the squish of your belly down onto me. Rocking and rubbing so I can feel you jiggle.
"Am I feeling any softer? You tease. I think I've grown. There are calories that linger here from last time you fed me."

Soft. It doesn't seem the correct word as I feel you bump against my inner thigh. You're using your belly to tease me. But it's teasing you also. Are you feeling the way your body has added weight.

"I Think soon this will be a little belly." I can't help the crack of pleasure my vioce gives as you tease me. Grinding your gut to my body. I feel a little embarrassed. I'm week to think of you growing. Full. Overfed. Fatter, "I want to feed you up. Relentlessly." I'm gasping. Trying to keep my vioce firm. But you can hear it. The beg. The want. The need of you. So as I try to sit up and push you to yout back, my eyes finding the pile of 2 litre bottles of cola to your side, you take your opportunity. You're still in charge here. Still in control. You're not my sweating, groaning overfed hog yet. But you are a glutton. And you want to feed on my excitment.

"Please" I gasp. I'm arching my back. I'm throbbing. Your body is driving me wild. Knowing you're going to stuff so hugely. "Please".

You kneel above me once more. Letting your belly fall onto my pelvis from above. Taking time to hover, to show me how far back can raise yourself whilst still weighing me down. And then...

The first bottle pops open... Shall we drink to your fullness? A gallon or two? Seeing the skin of your belly tighten, the little ledge that comes from your chest, jutting out. Distending... Your belly button tightens. Lower belly tapers... all from above me. You're putting on a show. Taking your time to balance my pleasure between seeing you so easily chug the gas filled drink, to stopping to belch. Reminding me that in a sense we almost shouldn't be doing this. That this is too much, too quickly for a normal belly to hold. But you're not normal are you? You're a growing hog. You've pushed your belly so it can hold these huge amounts. You are nowhere near full. Even as I see your skin grow pink and your belly round.

I can physically feel you distend against Me. You really are growing for your feeder. You are 3/4 of the way through the bottle before you really have to stop. Deep Breathing making your belly press and flutter to me. A belch that makes you clutch your stomach, taking the time to tease me by looking down at your roundness. Running a hand beneath it. You know I like it when you hold your belly. When I can see you cradling it like a heavy ball before you. Just where have these abs gone now?

I am exploring you as I whimper. Pleased by your growth and girth. You can probably feel me raise my hips for you as you belch... I'm sure you can as that's when you chug the last.

And like that... so quickly. 2 litres are gone.

The third proves more difficult. Your poor tummy is swelling with gas. It's taking up room. And even on the times that I see you take the bottle from your lips , feel you grow. The periods between you lifting the bottle to your lips grow more and more. You're resting heavier and heavier onto me. Big belly weighing you down. As you approach your fourth litre. You let out a pained groan... a tummy ache. Too fast. Too much. Too full.

And to greedy to stop. You want to please... lifting it to your lips only when you've closed your eyes for a while. Enjoying the tender way my hands massage, and knead. Enjoying feeling immense.

For at four I get my way. You're a little awkward now. The pressure in your abdomen is too much. Giant belches escaping as you try to sit forward. To make room... so full. Rhe need fo move and rock but the heaviness of a tender swell. This is the quickest you've had this much.

I take my chance. You're pushed back easily so that I can prop you're lower back with pillows and sit astride you. There is a pinkness to your skin now yes. A sort of angry redness o can see that is particularly around your sides. You are no longer entirely spherical. There is alsmot a squareness to your belly.

"I'm full" you murmur gently. I feel you twitch beneath me. You like feeling this way. Over full. Aching...

I slap your belly. A belch. A moan. Another pulse. Its too full to bounce. As tight as a drum as you continue to swell. Breathing slow and laboured. I can feel you relaxing. Sinking into the pillows and letting yout belly stick out. You may be slowing. Growing too heavy to move and please. But you want to tease. I don't let uou rest.

There's more. If you want to please. I know you do.

There is something so wonderful about adoring your body. I really wpuld adore you for hours... rubbing you like this excites me. Can you feel? From how I move.

'More' I tease. I gently coax and hush you. You are caught between alarm and excitment they I'm going to pack more. You see... neither of us want to stop at full.

The fifth litre is hard. I am firm. But not cruel. I let you take several breathers for i am pleases ar tge opportunity just to enjoy you, although you're gasping. Sweating. I suppose this is a work out. Testing yout limits by exercising your lack of restraint. The little whimpers you give when you take too big a breath... ohh...

And your hands. You can't keep them away from your swollen middle. Holding on to your blimping belly as you close your eyes. Beneath the pink I can see your skin start to dimple. It's
Grey and clammy...

I press my middle finger above your belly button. "Tight" you gasp. It's painful. My poor pig, but we've been through this before. Every tine you tell me you're full... we add a little more. This fits litre is beyond your usual limit. We are here. We have filled you up... and you're still growing.

You want me to tell you that you've pleased. That you're such a good feedee. But I'm greedy for you. I blush to think of you. On the
Edge of pain and exctasy... knowing inwardly that although you've teased me for being hansels witch... you're growth os conscious and willing. I am your feeder princess. And you'll treat me like a fairytale queen until we get our fantasy endreing. Even if we do grow you fatter forever. You protest a little at the sixth.

No... so.. full. Each word is followed by a groan. A belch.. a rub of your belly. But I tease. Please... beg... on edge you're wrapped around my little finger.

I'm tipping the liquid from bottle down your throat. And you're drinking keenly. I only have to lock a few little droplets from running down your chin.

I see the panicking and pleasure as I tip thr bottle higher. Controlling its flow into your mouth. Belly growing. Your hands try to clutch... but you're so big you can't hold enough of your aching middle so wide... I think your belly button is a little deeper.

I can see you grow as more and more liquid disappears... I can feel you.

So full you're scared you may pop.

Eating and stuffing until you can barely breathe, and then counting the minutes of bliss until we can add a little more.

But only with me. A contract of feeding... It feels so good to eat this much, to know that its way too much food that I really shouldn't be feeding you, encouraging you to be eating more.

Will you let me rub your belly? ...you're not going anywhere for a while anyway. You grian fior me to be gentle. Too much. Too tight. Youre too full to jiggle... you may even be too full to move. Can you feel that ball of a belly weigiijg you down.

I have cast you into a little spell of pleasure. So keen to show off, and now here you are. A seollen hog needing his feeder ocne more.

Was i right earlier? Can you see anything below this belly?

Youre too full to fuck ... but i dont mind. Let me adore you for how well you have overate. I am so pleased. I am the most excited i think to see and experience you like this. This. This wild, session is psrt of me making love to you.

A story not to be told, but experienced. Of course, I'll feed you up. A stuffed secret...

Until your belly has never been this big in your entire life, and you can feel the calories settling into your fattening body.

The feeling of excitement brought to me to think of your roundness... But its different with you. Intense. Intimate.


My glutton. The spells you could cast with your hands on your belly. You don't know what you do to me.

I am your feeder. I am your lover I am your... oh.


7. The number comes to my head again. Its one more awawy. Will this lead to days of stuffing... 7 days of stuffing. The number comes to my head once more. 7 days where this belly is mine. A story told by the swell of your body. In the numbers on the scale growing higher and higher.

Tell me... as your body swells out, and I am , sliding at first easily down to your little tummy Then with more difficultly and thighs pushed apsrt widely. Your belly... is mine. And I'm going to feed you up.

Open wide..

Only you can please. I, my fattening lover, am your feeder. And I intend to have you know it. A glisten to my eye.


Lover to lover... our secret story. No one else knows.

I am your feeder. And you my feedee... just what will we share?

For now fantasy but soon, I hope... the roundest of then all.

Say you'll eat for me. Those three magic words.

Be mine.