Chapter 1: Where it begins

Where should I begin? It has been a long held secret of what I do in the bedroom when no one else is there. As I came to understand my sexuality, I would have late night fantasies and imagine stories in my head about someone tricking me into gaining weight - lots of weight. Using blankets and pillows and oversized t-shirts, I would "stuff" myself all over, creating my very fat body. I would get bigger and bigger until the friction between my legs caused me to become wet and aching, until I would breathlessly orgasm and feel my vagina pulsate with feeling and release.

I didn't know anyone else was into this kind of thing. I didn't know it was a thing.

My weight has fluctuated a bit over the years. My family has always loved classic American dinners and over eating, but I was the small one in the family. In college, I actually lost weight. Having nothing but a coffee and muffin to sustain me while I ran around my college campus attending class, then an easy sandwich at my apartment for dinner, I didn't even notice my weight get down to 123 until I stepped on the scale one day. At 5 feet, 5 inches, I felt petite and in shape, with long hair hanging down. I had recently gotten into bicycling, and my rear end was nice and firm, which had gotten the attention of my male friends.

At 123 pounds though, and with a love of eating, I decided I could let loose a little and eat more of what I wanted. A new roommate had just moved in downstairs, and we hit it off. He had a beautiful red and orange bong that we would fill to the brim with grade A chronic, while we waited for the local pizza delivery to arrive. Then he and I would each eat entire calzones, easily large enough for two servings. Night after night we did something like this again and again. We were both pretty active, so it didn't affect us too much, but I didn't feel as skinny, and my B cup bra became a C cup.

When I gain weight, it doesn't go to any one place, but rather, it spreads out pretty evenly. A little on my legs, my butt, my arms, everything gets a little softer, except my breasts - those can really grow. My stomach stayed pretty smooth and flat, owing to daily crunches and sit ups. I didn't think anything about gaining a couple extra pounds. My weight does prefer to gather more on my front side than back side, which means I am more endowed up top than others. Overall, I make a slim looking hour glass. I settled nicely at around 133 for a long time.

When I moved out, I no longer binge ate. I kept fit. If I gained 5 pounds or so, I would diet to slim back down. Occasionally, when I was horny, I would still pack pillows and blankets into my sweatpants when I was alone, and marvel at my (fake) large busts, belly and booty, before orgasming wonderfully. My fantasy by myself, dreaming of eating half gallons of ice cream and loads of fries, counting insane amounts of calories in my head that would add X number of pounds to my body in a day. I didn't know the word feeder or feedee. This fetish was inside me. No one knew this secret about me, certainly not my boyfriends.

I graduated college, and starting working in an active, outdoorsy kind of job. After dating around a lot, I met the most wonderful man. Patient, funny, smart, totally in love with me. He was 6 feet tall and naturally lean. The dates we went on always involved a bike ride. We also drank and smoked weed, and he loved food as much as I did. We would eat a lot together. He could eat whatever he wanted and he only had a little plushy on his tummy. I was in great shape at 132 pounds. I fit snuggly in size 6 skinny jeans and a small tank top. I can't believe my tummy was that flat then. My C cup bras fit perfectly. Staying active, I didn't think twice about what I ate.

It was around then that I discovered feeder stories online. My long closeted fetish finally made sense. Other people like getting fat too! I masturbated to stories, pictures, and videos for the first time. I was mostly only into female gaining, despite identifying as mostly straight. Capture stories were... captivating. What if someone tied you up and gave you no choice? Imagining the female body large was so beautiful. But this was all on my own time, when my man was at work, and I had the day off. I would stay in bed reading and masturbating. I did not tell him, because it didn't feel that important. It was just part of my internet time occasionally when I was bored or horny. I didn't think it was a big deal.

My man and I, spending every day and night together, having a great time every night, then moving in together, it didn't take long for me to get pregnant. I was thrilled, ecstatic! I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this person, and he felt the same for me. I was ready to settle down and be a mother. We told our families, got engaged, and started planning our baby and marriage, both coming soon!

I was pregnant! And I loved to eat! It was a dream come true. I put on weight, a little more than recommended, but this was not helped by the fact that my man encouraged me to eat. He made sure I had a huge bowl of Mac and cheese, in addition to what we were having for dinner. He loved ice cream, and we would both eat whole pints of ice cream after dinner. I gained about ten pounds in only the first 6 weeks.

I didn't really realize how much weight I was gaining. But eventually I realized that my breasts were spilling out of my cups. I was curious, so I got out a button up shirt I purchased for interviews after college. It was a size 4, light blue dress shirt. I stood in front of the mirror and tried to button it up. One by one, I started buttoning from the bottom.

Each button was tighter than the next, with the fabric stretching between buttons, creating little peepholes. At the breasts, the low cut, female dress shirt stretched extremely tight, the button straining underneath my cups, with the cleavage creamy white and on full display. I couldn't believe my eyes. I wasn't pretending to gain weight. I actually was bigger, and the shirt was proof. It was hot... And I realized I was going to get bigger.