chapter 1

How fat is this going to make you? I find the thought on my mind soon after I murmur my plans for a stuffing weekend. For my want to push the boundaries of your indulgence even further... from the moment I feel you're excitment grow at the thought. I'm thinking of what it might do to your waistline...

I adore every stage of this journey to gluttony. When you first start to indulge and you reach the stage of fullness that I know you should stop. That everyone else would stop with a satisfied, well fed belly. But not you, my glutton.

I adore the little sparks of excitement that passes between us as pat your belly, letting your hands linger on its sides... reminding me of how you tenderly clutch at its fullness. Knowing that's what you want. But for now you can slap it. You can show me theres softness. Room to grow. You are no where near full. You're greed still rumbles in your belly. And so you eat and bloat for me so that find excitment seeing you grow rounder with every bite.


I adore as you begin to fill up. Your slower now as inch by inch you grow big... my excitment rising in the way your belly struggles to find space to push outwards, upwards, spilling out to the sides as you expand. I'm gentle with you. A loving caress. But I can't help myself from squeezing a little too hard. From allowing my excitment to spill over into a more and more enthusiastic exploration of your swollen belly. The fuller you are... the more you want. That we want.

I adore as you start to reach that point of overstuffed. Your breath catching in short pants. The moans that escape you; a little belch and a moan, my fingers pressing into a densely packed gut and a moan; the want to please, to enjoy my body, to use this belly to please me brings a moan too.

I adore as you start to tell me you're full. I love seeing your hands on it. I love hearing you explore how tight it is... a little in awe that you've grown so round. But I want a little more. And I know you do too. Even as you protest that you're too full.  It's time to feed you up. Past that limit of fullness and way into the territory of hedonism and greed... the little ache and pain that a really stuffed belly brings. So that you need me to settle your belly.

I adore seeing you go from strong and in control... to glutted. Somehow a little vulnerable, as you try to arch your back to offset a grossly distended belly, having followed the want of my pleasure. I dont need to ask if between your careful little burps, and the moans of your fullness, if you're excited by this belly. Now its tight. Now it's full. Now its stuffed... but is it enough.

"I'm stuffed" you always protest as I unscrew the lid off a bottle. A bloat ontop of this over indulgence. "No, really I'm too full... theres no room."  But I always find some... even if I have to be a little more forceful.  Then I know you really are full. With your skin stretched tight and red.

Then I can really enjoy the belly we have made... for days afterwards too when, once you are less tightly stretched, I can feel the growing softness of new fat. I can't hide how much I cry out when I feel your swollen weight on me.

And, its here my mind is now. Before you have even began to stuff... what would happen, if I pushed your limits a little more? Just how fat could you get... What would this belly look like with 50 pounds? With 100...


How much of an impact are these stuffings going to have on your waistline? How many inches are you going to grow? I guess there is only one way to find out. 

I hope you're hungry. Greedy. Ready to grow
I want to make you feel immense...

I have big plans for you, and your greed. And this is how I judge your potential...

Please your feeder, my glutton. Let me enjoy a growing gut. Indulge me... I want to fatten you up. And it starts... with this one indulgence.