Chapter 1 - A pleasant meeting

"Once I opened to him, that's when I left you for him. I told him how I fantasized, told him what I would never do on my own. He told me I could never have stayed with you and really been completely his... Once I was, he told me no matter what, that he would make me fat, against my will if need be."

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This was a short experiment in (mostly) dialogue-only prose. It takes place on a sidewalk in a fairly uptown part of any random city. It is a provocative, fairly dark and naughty story discussing weight gain and some of the darker aspects of feederism, especially erotic humiliation, submission, domination, and force, though between ostensibly-willing participants.

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Until I can think of something better, I've decided to add a BDSM scale to all my stuff. It ranges from 1 to 10, where a 1 is mildly kinky and a 5 is solidly BDSM. A rating of higher than 5 is probably extremely naughty. If you aren't sure you like this stuff, I encourage you to find something with a rating of 3 or below.
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This story's BDSM rating is 3.

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Like much of my work, this is one of an ongoing series; however, this series is related by theme or style, not necessarily by characters, setting, or plot.

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Comments and critiques are greatly appreciated!

Enjoy at your own risk! 0.o ;p XD lol



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Brief Encounters - Shock and Awesome



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"Jessica?" I hear as I exit the shop.

"Matt?! Oh my gosh! How are you?" My impatience with Jack immediately turns to hope that he takes his time inside the little donut shop.

"My God.. What the hell happened to you?!" asks my ex, in the emotionally weak, but arousingly vindictive, tone for which I know him so well.

"Oh, this?" I look down, twisted, naughty wheels already spinning. "This is Jack's... fault... He feeds me really well..." I subtly, intentionally stammer, fading my voice to quiet as if thinking, but smile sweetly, tauntingly weak and pleasing, hoping for what might come next.

"I can see that. *Hahahaha*" Matt laughs a little too long, a little too pointed to be real. I try to ignore it, so that I don't laugh myself. "You're so fat. What a fata$$." His superior look. The glance at a rear he can see, from his six-foot height, sticking out clear beyond even my the fat rolls of my back by well more than a foot now. The disgust, the amusement, the vindication in his voice, his glance: My knees tremble.

I frown, playing my part much better than he, even trying to work up some good tears to hide how turned on his words make me.

"So... you wouldn't fucck me now...?" I pout and tease, and squeeze my mammoth thighs together just a tiny bit in anticipation.

"NO!!!" His face turns red as people on the sidewalk begin to stare. "You're, like, a fat cow now!! That's gross! I mean, look at you! All you ever were was a fucck. And now, you're nothing!" People were stopping now to rubber-neck the spectacle of this tall handsome young man fat shaming my oh-so-shamefully fat self.

"You were so fine before, a real piece of a$$, that stupid fuccking thief got what he deserved for stealing you. *Hahaha*" He certainly did. "God, I'm happy he did it now. I mean, look at you! You blew up like a fuccking balloon! *Haha*" he pauses as he chuckles happily, vindicated, revenged. A trickle of moisture on my inner thigh makes me shiver. "I mean I remember when that waist was a size two, tiny, those slim cheeks, that firm, tight little a$$, and look at your arms! They were as small as my wrist, now look!! As wide as my fuccking thighs, filled like sacks of fat, and they even hang over them-fuccking-selves!! And your gut, it probably hangs below your knees when not crammed into those yoga stretch pants and that hideous three-size-too-small muumuu shirt."

I gather myself, practically melted on the floor. "True, true..." I sigh and shiver one more time before I blow his simple, rigid, and self-deceivingly repressed little mind, "but... Matt..." I smile sweetly, still stroking my huge full tummy, stuffed full by Jack himself just an hour before. I still feel his love inside me, in my tummy and... elsewhere. "You're wrong about one thing: I didn't 'just blow up like a balloon.'" I turn my eyes up and look right into his, biting my lip involuntarily: I want to feel his reaction wash over me, like a tidal wave of sexual, stimulating shame. "He blew me up!... I didn't even really have a choice... he simply tricked me or forced me whenever I resisted, and he was always so dominant, masculine, a... man. I didn't really even want to resist.

"He manipulated me to tell him my darkest secrets, how I fantasized, tell him what I would, could, never do on my own. He told me I could never stay with you and at the same time be really, completely... his..." I gush and step closer to my now pathetically awkward, shocked, and culture-shocked victim. "Once I accepted that, that's when the rest of my soul left you for good. Once I opened up my truth to him, I simply couldn't continue to live a lie with you." I step right up to him, the brim of my gut against his embarrassingly rising package, running my bloated finger down his chest. "Coward," I whisper to him. He's so upset he can't move.

I prepare for my climax. "When I came to him then, he told me he would make my fantasies come true. He told me no matter what, that he would make me fat, against my will if need be... That is why I left you for him. He is demanding, sexy, dominant, ardent; he turns me on, down to the bottom of my soul, and of my fat, wet, tight little pussy, by being the man you aren't." I push him now with my finger, enjoying the hideous discomfort on his flushed face, stumbling back, and his as-yet-unnoticed-by-him-but-noticed-by-everyone-el se erection. "A girl can be courted by a boy, a weak and scared one, but a woman needs a man. He made me fat, and he made me happy, and we satisfied, fulfilled, each other. Deep--carnal--fulfillment. And the huge--" I shiver against the man behind me, "sacks--" I feel arms around my sides, not Matt's, but his, "of fat--" Jack's hands gather beneath my belly fat, as warm lips and breath nuzzle against my neck, "that hang off me--only thrill me more when they are mentioned, or talked about in hushed circles, and even more than that when they're openly criticized, because he filled them on purpose. He made them fat. He made me fat, and huge and glorious and obese. And he fuccks me constantly."

A thick cock is pressing between the thick-with-fat cheeks of my soft a$$, testing the strength of my 'yoga' pants tucked into its crevice, and I'm glowing with a huge shit-eating grin on my sex-flush-reddened face as Matt finally seems to wake to just how ridiculously awkward this has become, and then notices his own erection, and finally I suppose sees the dark cold eyes now staring from above my head, boring right through his flimsy soul. Without a word, not turned-on as I am by the humiliating stares around us, he scampers off, and the rest of the rubberneckers uncomfortably shuffle off as well, somewhat to my malicious and seditious disappointment. It is quickly relieved however.

That nose is at my ear again, lips whispering into me, quietly, to my heart, my soul, as they always do. "I think it's time for another feeding. Mmmm. You know how I feel about you showing off my hard work without permission, my fat little piglet. Time to fill our 'fat sacks of fat', and, I suppose..." he wraps closely around me, hand traveling unabashedly, blatantly south, "this wet little--" I turn my head quickly into him and up to kiss his sinful words from his deliciously course and naughty lips and tongue. He tastes like the four dozen gourmet pastries he is carrying home for me. He nuzzles me, bites and kisses the side of my lip affectionately, dominatingly, dominantly, and I squeal a little girlishly (and, I admit with ecstatic pleasure here, piggishly) before turning with him obediently as he wraps his coat and arms gently around my tender fleshy shoulders and leads me off to my wonderful punishment.


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)*: End. ;-}



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By this deviant tale, I hope you're pleased.

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Comments and critiques
I greatly appreciate.
Thank you for reading.


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Notes, Comments, and Interesting but Incomplete Ideas, Additions, and Continuations

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CONTINUANCE: Like much of my work, this is one of an ongoing series; however, this series is related by theme or style, not necessarily by characters, setting, or plot.