Chapter 1 - fat tuesday and to his feeder mistress

"Fat Tuesday and Her Lenten Sacrifice"
A 69-word erotica fast fiction

Danyel loved getting into all the boys' pants. And at the Fat Tuesday church supper, she displayed her other carnal desire - a lust for fattening desserts. The next day, the priest crossed her forehead with ashes, and she decided to give up sex for Lent. A major sacrifice for her.

Unfortunately, she replaced sex with chocolate and cheesecake. And by Easter, Danyel couldn't even get into her own pants.


(.) ( . ) ( . )

WRITER'S NOTE: The above inspired by a Pancake Supper, just some flash fiction for your appreciation during Lent.

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"To His Feeder Mistress"

Since we have food enough, and time,
My thinness, Lady, is no crime.
Let me pig out and grow each day
To waddle toward the scales and weigh,
Thou will turn my slight chubbiness
Into thy plaything of tubbiness.
Of my flab complain, I might,
Soon, thou want to fatten me up right.
And should I dare thy food refuse,
Thou make me love or thinness choose.
My belly and moobs will begin growing
Vaster than ever, never slowing.
A hundred pounds for thou, I gain
Soft love handles and with much pain,
Two hundred more for each moob
I grow so fat, thou has to lube
My belly to get it through the door.
Force into obesity, a stuffed man-whore.
Mistress, thou push upon me another plate,
So I can grow at a quicker rate.

But at my back I always hear
My seams splitting across my rear.
And yonder all before me lie
Tables filled with cake and pie.
Thou make my appetite unbound,
As I grow pound by pound.
Likened we are to Yang and Yin,
Yet I grow fat as thou stay thin.
My body I give thou in sacrifice
And thou make me consume cartons of ice
Cream and hamburgers and fries galore,
For thou, more to love, more and more.

Now, therefore, while thou stay so slender,
I no longer fight thee. Yay, I surrender.
And while I like a hog perspire,
Within thou lights a lusty fire.
Let thou gorge me while thou may,
And, l grow for thee day by day.
Let me all thy cooking devour
As thou grow in strength and power.
Now, roll your lover like a ball
To thy bedroom down the hall,
And we shall pleasure upon thy bed
As long as thou keep me well-fed.
Thus, though this lover can no longer run,
Upon his softness, have thee fun.

(.) (.) ( . ) ( . )

WRITER'S NOTE: Of course, this was inspired by Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress" written in the 1650s. It remains one of the most seductive pieces of writing of all time! I really don't do the original justice with my take here. Also inspired by someone very special who is an inspiration for most of my writing these days.

Marvell's original poem and some background on it are at:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_His_Coy _Mistress

As if you come to fantasyfeeder for an English literature lesson, huh?