Chapter 3 - no need to speak a word

One of my last attempts to find a feedee man through personal ads was with a little weekly metro. I was very subtle: "I would love to assist you in experiencing some expanded personal growth." I was delighted when, in the midst of the 87 other oblivious (or obese-man) responses, a self-described "150-pound, 30-inch-waist enthusiastic feeder-to-be" turned up. Talking to him during a follow-up telephone conversation and hearing his obvious dream of growing fat sent a shiver of desire down my back and made me twitch between my thighs in anticipation.

But he had lied. He turned out to be over 250 pounds with a 53-inch waist, and while we had a nice time at the buffet, I did not return his calls for another date.

So it's been difficult, and I have recently discovered that there are guys like Jake or Arnie at the gym - so slim-waisted and fit. It's just a matter of using my womanly ways to convince a man like Arnie that I can give him a lot of pleasure - if he listens to me and does as I say.

So what is there about feeding and fattening men that I find so attractive? I thrill to the touch of a man's soft body on mine. Or the pleasure of massaging Arnie's belly when it is swollen to its capacity. I love the widening glance in a man's eyes, his shock reflecting that he knows what I want. He knows I want him to eat another plateful of food before we retire to the bedroom, me carrying a platter of brownies as we go. His knowing looks when I caress his stuffed belly and finally let him know I'm ready for loving.

Whoever said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach may have been on to something. But it's not just Arnie's heart that starts throbbing after he has plowed through a panful of my special fattening lasagna. I have trained him well to appreciate that full-full-belly feeling and associate it with carnal pleasures to come.

There is something almost primitive in the notion of a woman encouraging a man to eat more, knowing how it puts her into the mood for love. And with his swollen gut, he is in the mood for love as well. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not partaking of a human experience that goes back to the dawn of time, back to when our ancestors dwelt in caves and the supply of food was so uncertain that a surplus was stored like a treasure trove on the bodies of men and women as the earliest form of conspicuous consumption.

Surely, there is something very ancient in a person's growing resemblance to the corpulence of figures such as those rounded depictions of "gods" and "goddesses" found in every culture. I feel there is something so primal in my worship of a man's growing body. I am sure there are many people I know who would be aghast should they know the pride I take in Arnie's swelling body and the joy it brings me - in the kitchen and in the bedroom.

Fine, let them be horrified. I'm not a woman who builds fat men's bodies in order to gain acceptance from society. I'm doing this as one of the most fat-positive things any woman can do in a society which hates fat people. My fattening of Arnie is a big "*** you!” to those who think men should have sculpted shoulders and six-pack abs.

I show my love for fat men in public, patting Arnie's belly, getting up to serve him plateful after plateful of goodies at the buffet.

I am a woman who chooses to fatten up men, and to let my fat-loving sisters know that they are not alone. And to let men who are gaining weight know that we adore you! To Arnie, my latest fatty, I tell you that I love you more with every ounce you gain and every inch you grow fatter. At least, I will tell you this some day, I'm sure, once you're big enough.

To all men, I say this: Don't forget, there are women who will love you fat! There are even women who who will love to make you fatter and fatter!

And I am not the only one. By choice, or some weird biological inheritance or by some great experience like Jake, we women are here to fatten up men like you. And you don't stand a chance. So open your mouth, not to complain about how much you weigh or how tight your pants are getting. Open your mouth, so we may feed you. Men, open your mouths, so your lovers can show you their love and appreciation by spooning in their lovingly-prepared meals.

I see deliberate fattening as the next stage in our human evolution. Men, your fat is like a maturing, a blossoming of your beauty, a ripening of your bodies.

And yes, my dear Arnie, he was thin until we met. He was physically fit until we met. He had been spared the horrible denigration that fat children in this society incessantly experience. Now, I will teach him to make his way through a world designed by small-minded people with Lilliputian concerns. His family members, co-workers and so-called friends are constantly chiding him for gaining so much weight so quickly. Some of them even blame me for Arnie's growing fat.

Like it's my fault. He's the one who's doing it to himself. He's the one opening his mouth and eating so much.

Yet, however maddening family and friends' attempts to constrain Arnie may be, they are bound to fail. I will succeed in convincing him to grow, as I have so far convinced him. I watch Arnie's burgeoning man-boobs, his bulging potbelly, his widening hips and thickening thighs with great fascination. I watch his expansion with love and appreciation. I magically transform each new stretch mark into a love-bite and turn each new ripple of flesh and roll of fat into an embrace we can shared.

And I know Arnie loves me for it. He shivers at my touch as I fondle his fat body and caress his love handles, my thin-fingered small hands pressing deep into his soft flesh. I don't need to speak a word. I am sure he knows it. As I climb on top of Arnie, I silently assure him that I will continue to love him the fatter him grows. I love experiencing that sense of awe engendered by his swelling body. I love him growing fatter and fatter for me - growing so much more of him to love.

Call me a bodybuilder. For lack of a better term.

The end?

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by the classic BBW bodybuilding article at Dimensions (featured in Harpers Magazine, I believe, and the first time feederism went mainstream). Also inspired by the wonderful art piece named "A Different Kind of Weight Training" by DeviantArtist LovezChubz. The artwork is in my pics, and I used it to illustrate an earlier story posted here: "What I Love About You".