Chapter 1 - Day 0: making a calorific list

What would your love bring you for the twelve days of Christmas?  How many pounds can I bring to your waist in such a small period? You've wanted to indulge for so long... but can you eat to please?


There is no denying that you’ve grown fatter through our greed – as your hands support the small of my back, I can feel the soft jut of your sprawling belly press to my pelvis. Although we can’t act surprised, can we?  Our indulgence has done this to your body. Your need to push the limits of your little gut, until its swollen and round. My insights that you can fit just a little more... leading you away from a feast at the table to bed for the first of an evening of dessert. Eating until you feel that any moment, with each next breath, you may just burst. Achingly full. Undeniably gluttonous. Our greed for gluttony feeds from one another... and here's the the proof on yout waist.

My lips are only millimeters from yours as a soft gasp escapes me. I am sure you feel the warm breath on your skin,  that you feel as my body trembles for you and I find myself slipping closer to you, falling into your arms. Lettinv you hold me... feeling strong if a little soft. I need the touch of your body to mine. More.

A reflexive, low moan follows...all because I can feel the give of new fat pressing from your body to mine. My hip bone rests on the lowest curvature of your belly, sinking a little into the new jiggle of your body and I can't help myself but to rock into you. Your own greed amplified by eating to please has grown you until pound after pound of a spreading, soft fat threatens to spill over the top of your waistband into your lap.

This is a winter weight which has settled so well onto yout body in a season made for eating in excess... amplified tenfold by our love of hedonism. And it seems that during the holiday season this hedonism is only going to plump this gut up more.  You just can't seem to stop.  You're such a glutton. Insatiable, even as your belly inflates and expands, even as you groan and grow into a bleching, beached mound of gut... And I adore it.  Playing with your softness, letting you show off this plump little belly, excites me.

I want in one gasp to beg you to gorge for me. Telling you to eat for me, past your limits. Past our wildest desires... and to know that even then I will keep feeding you more. In Another tl command, seemingly gentle at first, as I encourage you to lay back. To arch your back... as you tease me running your hands across your belly.  So round. Ridable...  how long before this ball of a belly has you beached beneath it? Glutted. Your turn to gasp. To beg. No longer rubbing only to tease me, but because the tender ache in your belly. 

Overfed... I find myself biting back the want to feed you already. I want to see you gorged and growing. Eat for me. Eat for me, and don't stop.

Measurements matter for a growing hog. How many calories? How many inches?  How many pounds? ... how many buttons will refuse to fasten as you grow?

I trace my finger around the waist band of your trousers, taking care to punch the lip of fat that spills over them. "This belly might cover a little more of your lap by the time I'm done with you..." I jiggle and squeeze, taking a handful. If I extend my middle finger, tracing down from the dent of your belly button, stroking the soft hair that leads its way downwards, on softer fat towards... well beneath I can feel a pulsing growth. Not so soft..."are you turned on by my playing with your fat? Just think of how much more we are going to add."

And now to dress you... we need a shirt fit for a dinner date with your feeder. One that squeezes its way around your hips, that threatens to let your buttons strain, and beneath them that softness of your waist risks falling out. A lower belly that already sneaks its way out of shirts when we fill you up... what's happening to your abs? To my fit glutton who only indulges so occasionally. Craving fullness... it seems with each stuffing your greed has grown a little more. Look at how big you're growing...

You grow so well, I tell you as I unbutton your shirt in full view of the mirror... from a tight shirt to fat undeniably on display. Do you want me to feed you in it already? i know before I tease. You're hands are holding your belly, clutching at your under belly as if you need to support its weight.

My glutton... the next time you wear this, the only way you're getting out of it... is to burst one button at a time. One mouthful more from my hand.

You certainly look much fatter. In fact, You feel it, as I squeeze you beneath my muscled thighs. But, I want to know. I want to be able to tell you how much you have grown. To tease you for the inches that your body has gained...

Will this eating bring you xloser still to being my hog? My obese pig...

I hope you don't mind that in those times I feed yoy from sat in your lap... well telling you so makes me sit down onto you. I can't hover any more. I need you. I need to feel my glutton.  I have to rest my chin on your shoulder, my breasts heaving against your chest as I try to steal myself. I'm excited for you already... before we start. The thought of you distended, and overfed... eating for me. The times I've experienced with you before are enough to make my heart race... what will this belly do to me?

12 days of decadance... or more.  How much fatter would you be after over eating for the entire month of December?

You’re already the biggest you’ve ever been. And the smallest you're ever going to be again.

I want to hear you say it. Promise me your greed. Tell me your belly is mine... each time you're full... a little more for your feeder.  Even as you belch and gasp - even when your belly grows so big that you can't see over yourself...Let me rule your roundness... 


Your gift to me is in your greed. In buttons popped and calories consumed. 12 days of indulgence... how many calories can you consume? 8 thousand? More than four times your daily reccomendarion. 10 thousand? Your biggest stuffings with me often can sit around there... even if after you can barely move. Even if after gorging you need my tender ceremony and care. No. Twelve thousand seems right. Twelve thousand calories, every day... the twelve days of Christmas. A true gut, and true gluttony given to me...

Here is my request... my command of your belly.

12 days of hedonism. 12 days of growing fatter... 12 days of being the glutton we both adore... our secret.

Too many breakfasts. Too many lunches. Too many dinners... so much belly.

Are you ready for me to do everything I want to you? Are you ready to please? Will you finally give in to your greed... Will this be the stuffing that brings you over the edge? From greedy - needing to feel your belly full and swollen, distended on your body - to full... and fat.

Promise me your belly? A plump present... for 12 days, let your love bring you every one of her desires... one bite at a time. Will you grow for me?