Chatting With Masterfeeder

Chapter 1 - Sister’s Secret Cravings

It was a typical Friday afternoon at our house in Iowa. Our parents had taken off for the weekend, leaving us alone. Just me and Becky, my stepsister, two years older than me. We didn’t get along at all, she always treated me like some annoying pest, but lately, something about her had piqued my curiosity.

Becky had changed recently. She’d always bragged about her looks: long black hair cascading over her shoulders, striking blue-green eyes, and a flawless figure, or at least that’s how it used to be until a few weeks ago. Now, she’d gained weight, and fast, her once-slim frame softening into fuller, rounder curves. I couldn’t figure out how it happened, but I was itching to find out. Like most teenage boys daydream about girls their age, I’d often drift off before bed thinking about Becky. Even though she treated me like dirt, she was undeniably pretty, and my teenage hormones didn’t care.

Boredom drove me to wander into Becky’s room.

“Oh my God, Tomas! Get out of my room, you little brat!” she snapped the second she saw me, her smile vanishing. She was propped against the wall on her bed, quickly shoving something under a pillow.

I raised my hands in surrender and hurried out. It stung that she treated me like an intruder in her space, but I was used to it. Still, I couldn’t shake one thing: her sudden weight gain and her shutting herself away in her room.

I retreated to my bedroom, but curiosity gnawed at me. I had to know more. After a few minutes, I crept back to her door, leaving it cracked just enough to peek through the keyhole.

Becky was sprawled on her bed, phone in one hand, a jumbo bag of potato chips in the other. She was scrolling through videos, mindlessly grabbing handful after handful, shoving them into her mouth with a hunger that didn’t seem like her. She didn’t even notice how much she was eating or the chip crumbs tumbling onto her shirt. When the first bag was empty, she tossed it carelessly to the floor and grabbed another. It was like her only goal was to devour those chips, unless she was genuinely ravenous.

It was… weird. Becky had never been like this. She’d always been obsessed with her figure, her beauty. Watching her binge like that, completely unrestrained, felt unreal. Were ghost stories real? Was our house haunted, and she’d been possessed? Why was she eating nonstop, eyes glued to her phone?

I watched for a few minutes, equal parts fascinated and confused. Then I noticed she was talking to someone on the phone. Her voice was soft, almost flirty. Who was she talking to? Was a guy behind all this?

“Haha, stop it! You’re awful… No, I swear, I can’t believe it! Finishing a whole bag of chips feels so easy now, you were right!” she giggled between bites, absentmindedly rubbing her bloated belly like it was some kind of turn-on. Then she sighed, content, and flopped back on the bed, still chatting and crunching away.

I couldn’t look away. Whoever was on the other end of that call was definitely tied to this change. I had to figure out what was going on. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized the truth might be way more shocking than I’d ever imagined if someone was really behind this otherwise inexplicable shift.

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Main Characters:

Name: Tomas
Height: 5'9" (approx. 175 cm)
Weight: 135 lbs (approx. 61 kg)
Appearance: Messy brown hair, thick glasses, lean and slightly awkward build
Traits: Smart, curious, reserved, often the target of Becky’s teasing

Name: Becky
Age: 18
Height: 5'6" (approx. 167 cm)
Weight: Recently increased from 130 lbs to 160 lbs over the past 6 weeks (approx. 72 kg)
Appearance: Long black hair down to her shoulders, blue-green eyes, once-slender body now softer and chubbier
Traits: Vain, arrogant, bossy with Tomas, secretly insecure

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It was Saturday night. Our parents were still gone, and the house was wrapped in an eerie silence, broken only by a noise coming from Becky’s room.

I crept toward her door, holding my breath. The closer I got, the clearer the sound became, a heavy, almost panting breath. Something inside me screamed to walk away, to mind my own business, but my curiosity was too strong. Was there an animal in my stepsister’s room or what?

I nudged the door open just a crack, peering inside. Becky was sprawled on her bed, mouth slightly open, tongue peeking out. Her once-flat belly now rose, swollen and prominent under the thin fabric of her shirt. Scattered around her were candy wrappers, crumpled chip bags, and empty cans of soda and energy drinks. No doubt about it, she’d been stuffing herself again. I’d never seen anything like this before; she usually locked her door at night. Had she forgotten to lock it? And if so, was this normal? Did she do this every night?

But the mess around her wasn’t what hit me hardest. No. It was how completely lost she was in her phone. Even now, with fingers sluggish from food and her belly taut from overindulgence, she was frantically typing on the screen propped above her face. She seemed hypnotized, like that device had some kind of control over her beyond mere distraction.

I leaned in slightly, trying to get a better look without being noticed. Becky let out a soft moan of satisfaction. I saw her pull one hand from under her pants, then let the phone drop beside her. A few minutes later, her breathing steadied, she’d fallen asleep, exhausted.

I waited. My heart was pounding. It was risky, sure, but I couldn’t let this chance to learn more slip away. With careful steps, I entered the room, stepping over the scattered food wrappers on the floor. I approached the bed and reached for her phone.

The screen was still lit. A chat.

My fingers trembled as I picked it up. Someone had messaged her recently. The texts scrolled one after another, filling the screen with words that sent a chill through my veins.

“Good girl, keep it up, stuff that belly.”

“Just let go completely, don’t worry.”

“Trust me, Becky. Tonight, with your parents gone, I’ll make you feel like a greedy little pig!”

Below the messages were photos. Packages of food ordered online. A massive haul of sweets, snacks, and greasy junk. And then… a receipt for a payment. Someone had bought her all that food.

I swallowed hard, trying to make sense of it. Who was this person? Why were they pushing her to act like this? Becky had never been one to let anyone control her. Yet now, she seemed completely under this guy’s spell.

My gaze shifted to her, asleep and sated, her belly rising with slow, deep breaths. What the hell was she doing?

I had to read that chat. I had to find out who was ordering her this insane amount of food, who was coaxing her to gorge like this, week after week. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. In none of my fantasies about her had I ever pictured her like this. She seemed to revel in acting like a mindless, gluttonous chub, oblivious to how much weight she’d gained. Why?

The dim light from the phone illuminated her body like a living portrait of decadence and sensuality. She was infuriating, yeah, but so damn sexy that from the moment I met her a year ago, I’d always felt a thrill being near her. Like a queen bee emitting pheromones that draw in the drones. Maybe that’s why she kept me at arm’s length, she didn’t want anything to do with her “bratty” little stepbrother in that sexual sense, even though we were just stepsiblings.

Seeing her so exposed, her too-tight shirt rolled up under her newly plump breasts, was unreal. Her big, soft, pale belly, stuffed with who-knows-how-much food, was on full display. Her navel, once a vertical oval, was now rounder, almost horizontal. And all around, her belly had a layer of fat that gave it a roundness that looked out of place on her.

What was happening to my gorgeous stepsister? She was letting herself go, squandering the edge she had over so many girls at school in terms of fitness! She’d been lucky to start with a stunning body, and now those curves were growing in ways that, I’m sure, plenty of guys wouldn’t mind. Well, maybe not with a belly that round. It was like a volleyball stuffed with junk food!

With each snore, her belly rose, taut and glistening with sweat, her navel stretched into a small, greasy crater speckled with chip crumbs. Pink stretch marks at the edges of her overfull belly gleamed like humiliating scars, fresh signs of her rapid weight gain over these past weeks.

Her thighs, once toned, now thicker and fleshier, sank into the mattress under their own weight. Her hips flared out, mesmerizing me, while her tank top exposed a soft strip of skin above her jeans, which were impossible to button after she’d gorged all day. And her breasts, bigger and less firm, quivered slightly with each labored breath, straining against the too-tight cups of her old bra. The soft rolls of her breasts, spilling out in vain against the bra’s confines, drove me wild.

Boobs! Big boobs! Huge freaking boobs! Wow. My teenage brain could only focus on one thing, I’d have killed for her to press those soft, massive boobs around me! Or maybe I could’ve tried something while she slept… No, no, she’d wake up. Damn shame!

Holy crap, this jerk’s turning into a… MILF? Becky?! If someone had told me weeks ago that my diet-obsessed stepsister would end up like this, I’d have called them insane.

What made it so captivating was Becky’s charm over me, despite the sorry state I saw before me. My heart raced a mile a minute, torn between my unrequited, almost platonic love for her and my crazy hormones noticing that some of her softer curves might be even more tempting if we ever… If we could ever screw like rabbits. I’d have loved for her to take me, seduce me, force me to bang her. Those were my fantasies before seeing her like this. Now, I was just confused.

I stood frozen, torn between disgust and an attraction that twisted my gut. Her parted lips, dusted with sugar, her chubby cheeks, her heavier arms, she was almost animalistic. Everything about her screamed of a deliberate transformation; it had to be, given how much she’d eaten today. But it was so extreme. What was the point?

Yet what unnerved me most was how beautiful she still was, despite it all. Grotesque, sure, but in a way that forced me to stare, to soak in every detail like I was spying on a goddess who’d surrendered to gluttony, losing a piece of her divine aura.

A moan escaped her, and for a moment, I feared she’d wake up. Instead, she just ran a hand over her belly, as if soothing the weight of the food crammed inside. She looked like a kid after a big feeding, passed out from too much milk. Her less-slender fingers sank slightly into her flesh, leaving a fleeting imprint.

My goddess, reduced to this? I had to know. I had to read those messages to uncover what was behind her reckless weight gain. But Becky, even asleep, even swollen and snoring, held my gaze captive for a few more seconds.