Make Me Massive!

Chapter 1 Enter Jill

Note to the reader: this story, like most of mine, is written from a shifting point of view, with the POV character's name in a separate paragraph immediately before their part begins, like so

Jill

My name is Jill. Every morning after my shower I stare into the mirror in my underwear, as if I expect something to be different. I pinch the bit of fat hanging off of my arms, stomach, chest, and thighs. I look at my body as I pinch and feel myself up “Skinny, skinny, skinny.” I mutter to myself then sigh. Most women would be glad to see that, not me though. I think that there’s nothing sexier than some nice, soft, roundness, it makes me want to strip naked and have a guy rail me just thinking about it. The thought of outgrowing clothes makes me drool as I fantasize about them bursting off of my growing body as it swells out more by the second. The idea of pudge and fat pressing my skin out to the point that there can be no wrinkles on my taught, stuffed body makes me want to take someone to bed, or have him pin my fat body to a wall, and bend me over a table covered in food that I stuff into my mouth as he takes me again and again. As I think on this and jiggle my, far too small, breasts a thought hit me. Honestly I’m pretty sure I’m a sex addict. Like, I always want more and I never stop thinking about it. Hell, even when my body is sore from too much sex and masturbation I feel frustrated that I have to stop. I also have a fetish or two, hundred, million. Okay, not literally, but a lot of things get me going. The biggest one is eating, plain and simple and why not? It’s only natural right? Like, eating and sex are the two things that naturally feel the best, that you are driven to by instinct, that motivate all other human activity. Why not put them together for something even better? Best of all, eating even makes you sexier in the long term! It makes you fat. Fat is cute. Fat is sexy. Fat is soft, and warm, and cuddly. It makes me want to just. Fuck, I’m getting myself excited just thinking about it. Whenever I do it makes me want to. . . Okay, maybe eating is my second place kink. I like eating, but it’s the result of that eating that really makes me smile. I love it when I’ve stuffed my stomach so full that I look pregnant, pregnant with quintuplets or something. Like, I can’t have children, I’ve known that for a long time. But you know what I can have? Breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. Even supper, brunch, lunner (it’s a thing, I said so) second frigging breakfast like a hobbit, and plenty of snacks between. Yeah, if I’m ever going to be nice and round it’s from that.

I stared in the mirror as I said all this and felt my, relatively flat belly. I sure talk big, don’t I? I can never make myself commit to anything on this front. I always want to eat obscene amounts, I want to get fucked every step of the way. I want to have a million people stare at me in jealousy and adoration as I do it. I want, I want, I want.” I hit the mirror with a clenched fist, sending vibrations up and down the whole thing. It’s a good thing I’m not stronger, that could have been ugly. I sigh. Fear always stops me though. Fear of how people will treat me, fear of being alone, fear of being unable to work once I get too big. I know that I tend to get carried away with things I enjoy when I get going. So, the easiest way to avoid obesity is to simply not let myself eat more than I have to. Ever. So I stay skinny as fuck. Even worse I am, well, how do you day it? Promiscuous? I know I can’t get pregnant, and I love sex, quite a bit more than most. So the only reason I ever say no is when I suspect a guy has an STD or is going to try something shady. That does give me another cause for concern though. Most guys think fat is disgusting, and sex is the only thing I love more than fat.

I heave a sigh of sad acceptance and look at myself in the mirror. I try to focus on other things about myself than my weight, or lack thereof. I'm kind of short at 5"5", I have a averaged size butt for my, slim build, I have a large B cup chest. I have long, brunette hair that goes down just past my shoulder blades and is just curly enough to look thicker than it actually is. I have creamy, white skin, and green eyes that I am told are beautiful (but aren’t they all?). But do you know what I don’t have? Body fat. I want that softness, I want that warmth, I want to be cuddly and squeezable. God, I sound like a broken record, don’t I? Want want want want want. Uhg, Buddha was right, desire makes us all miserable, doesn’t it? Well, unfulfilled desire does anyway. So, I’ll fulfill my desires! I’ll be less of a coward! I’ll go out to a buffet! I’ll shoot a muk bong video and get the world to stare at my gluttony in awe. I’ll order bigger clothes, no, I’ll stop wearing them entirely. What’s the point of getting more when you’ll just outgrow them anyway. I’ll, I’ll. I’ll have a nervous breakdown and decide to do something safer. Something much safer, maybe find a community online where I can meet people. Yeah, meet people anonymously, never show my face to anybody. Role play with some folks who want to fatten me up, maybe I’ll develop a bit of backbone as I meet people who will at least encourage me. Who knows? But the one thing I won’t do is this. I won’t commit to anything serious, I won’t tie myself to an absurd fantasy. I’ll just enjoy myself and my little dreams. Big dreams, dreams of bigness, you know what I mean.

So, after a bit of research online I found it, a little website dedicated to fantasizing about feeders or the like. I made an account where I made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone in real life, I just want role play partners online who will worship the ground I pretend to walk on while pretending to feed me pretend feasts. Pretend! I used a fake name (Brie if you care) and even faked my location with a VPN and good old fashion lies. Now if someone tries to track me down they’ll think I live in Azerbaijan. Or more likely know I’m lying about my location and that the name “Azerbaijan” makes me giggle. Regardless, I will meet somebody who will play games online, who would support my dreams no matter how absurd, who would. Who would interrupt my train of thought with an invitation to role play much faster than I expected! Damn that’s fast! Its moments like this when I’m glad that these things have fifty eight and a half times more men than women. I mean, some of them are probably psychopaths, but that’s okay. They’re psychopaths who see my location as somewhere in Azerbaijan anyway. So, I’ll accept the invitation to role play.

Immediately I am taken to a little chat room with a guy named “ChunkeeMonkee” in the age old tradition of spelling things wrong on the internet! (The age is kind of recent, but still!) We went straight to business in the chat. The business of horniness! What? We know why we’re here, and it’s all good fun. It went as follows.

ChunkeeMonkee: So, you said you’re a feedee interested in RP? Well, I’m pretty interested in doing so from the other side of things. So, you want to do it now?

Brie: Yeah! Let’s go Mr. Monkey man!

ChunkeeMonkee: Okay, do you like Subway? We can make that the setting. I’d love to since I eat there all the time anyway, so it feels more real.

Brie: Same actually, I like meatball subs if you want to use that.

ChunkeeMonkee: So, lets say I work at a Subway near you. It is a dark and stormy day and you come in from the rain absolutely famished to get a sub.

Brie: I say “Hi, I am Brie, I am absolutely famished a d would like to get a sub.

ChunkeeMonkee: >_< come on. Try to be a tiny bit serious.

Brie: Fine. I walk up to the counter and look around to see nobody present. Once I’m sure we are alone I say “Hey there hot stuff,” licking my lips seductively, “I want a nice, long, sandwich with a lot of meat in it. Can you get me a meatball sub? A foot long. I like a lot of meat

ChunkeeMonkee: The worker gives you a bit of a funny look, but gets to making your sub without a serious problem.

Brie: As I wait foe my sub I think about how stupidly fat I want to get, just eating and eating. All day every day as my stomach grows larger and larger until I have completely eclipsed even the fattest person alive.

ChunkeeMonkee: Really?

Brie: ?

ChunkeeMonkee: Nevermind, continue.

Brie: When my sub is completed I thank the man and say “Oh, I forgot. I wanted that for myself now, but I’m really here to pick up a catering order for my friend’s party. Here’s my info (gives the information needed for the order)

ChunkeeMonkee: I go to the back to get your order.

Brie: When you’ve returned I have finished the sub and am sitting at a table, looking despondent as the rain outside pours harder than ever.

ChunkeeMonkee: what’s wrong miss?

Brie: The party was called off last minute. Now I have a dozen subs and nothing to d-“ I am cut off by my stomach rumbling.

ChunkeeMonkee: I look back and forth to make sure nobody is coming, they aren’t. In fact it is starting to hail outside, it seems unlikely that anyone is coming in any time soon. I lean forward against the counter and said “Oh, I wouldn’t say nothing, you can always eat them.”

Brie: “Oh! But my diet, I couldn’t.” And my stomach starts to rumble. I said “Well, okay, I missed breakfast, and dinner last night, so maybe I can have a second sub.” And starts to grab a soothing sweet onion for variety’s sake.

ChunkeeMonkee: I watch you eat, wondering what diet you could’ve meant if you want to eclipse the fattest person alive. My confusion is quickly overcome by desire. So, I continue to watch you, practically salivating until you’re nearly finished. At which point I ask “Do you want a veggie sub next? For variety’s sake?

Brie: I am about to say I ought to get going, when a hailstone the size of my face crashes into the window, making me think again. I say “Yeah, that sounds great.” In my best imitation of an excited voice. Then finish my teriyaki chicken sub and accept the veggies sub, mentally kicking myself for letting it slip how fat I want to be.

The role play continues on like that, with hail pushing me to have a tuna sub next, then by the time I’ve finished that I stopped even checking, continuing to the next sandwich, and the next. Until eventually the entire catering order rested neatly in my stomach. Following cheesy porno logic the Subway worker comes around the counter with a dozen of those little cookies they keep at Subway. In the RP “Brie” scarfed these down one after another. As my character ate an unrealistic amount I masturbated, which I then did again as we played through the scenario of him taking me behind the counter as he shoved a huge amount of lunch meat into my mouth.

When the sex scene was over I got the message

ChunkeeMonkee: Okay. That was hot as fuck. It makes me want Subway too lol.

Which I read quickly, then after basking in the afterglow for a minute responded to him with the following.

Brie: funny, I was just thinking the same thing. Goodbye for now for a lunch break?

ChunkeeMonkee: Sounds good to me. I’ll have to message you again tomorrow. See you then!

Then I got dressed. What? You thought I did all of that fully clothed? Nah, panties and a bra at the most when I’m doing sexy stuff while home alone. Once I had my clothes on I went to my car and drove to a nearby subway.

I walked into the store and gave a quick glance around. There was one other customer here, he was seated in thecorner of the store, eating a sub. The man was tall, I think just over six feet, he had short dark hair that went down into side burns and melded seamlessly into a beard. He looked a little bit chubby, but not excessively so. Like, the type where, if you touch them, there's muscle coated in a thin layer of fat that leaves them just soft enough to cuddle with after you're done riding them. What? I SAID that I had sex on the mind constantly. This really shouldn't be a surprise. Anyway, I went to the counter and ordered a meatball sub, then had a bit of a flashback to the role play and said “You know what, can I get an order of cookies too?” the meal cost about the same as the sandwich and cookies, but it comes with a drink too. So, I got a coke from the soda fountain and went to get a seat. As I went to sit down it hit me like a ton of bricks. The man had a T-shirt with a stylized monkey riding a skateboard, but the words written above it were what made me nearly scream. “Chunkee Monkee” complete with misspelling matching the screenname. I stood stock still and stared at the man for enough time that he must have gotten uncomfortable. He said “Is there a problem ma’am?” and I forced myself to close my mouth as I said “So, um, so, were you just role playing online?” the man looked like he was thinking of what to say for a while, before he settled on “What makes you say that?” making me point at his shirt. The man blushed, but to his credit did nothing else to betray his feelings. After a moment he exhaled, like he was trying to relieve some pressure built up. Then I think it hit him. The man gave a weird, silent gasp and said “Wait. So, you’re Brie? I thought you were in Azerbaijan!” I broke down laughing then, between wheezes said “Wait!” and gasped down enough air to talk, “you really believed that?” The man looked insulted and said “I’ve never heard of that place before, I saw the name and just thought ‘elsewhere,’ which was apparently wrong.” I couldn’t help but smile as I said “Absolutely wrong! I use a VPN.” He sighed and said “So, I feel like this is unfair. I know your name but you don’t know mine.” And held out a hand to shake, saying “I’m Jack.” I smirked and said “Brie isn’t my real name at all. I’m Jill.” To which he said “So, we’re Jack and Jill then?” and continued in a mocking tone "Are we going up a hill? To fetch a pail of water maybe?” I put a hand over my mouth as I snickered and Jack continued “I hope not. That didn’t end well for the other Jack if I remember right.” And I started laughing in earnest as my hand fell from my face. Jack started to laugh with me and I thought to myself. This may actually be pretty nice.

That night I drove home with my mind on the future. I can’t believe it. I found a guy who was into the same stuff as me, and was not crazy in any way that would get me chopped up and put on a trophy case. Hopefully. Like, there were no obvious signs he was a lunatic anyway.

When I got home I was tired, and so I immediately went to bed, like, in the literal sense anyway. My bed is where I went. But I couldn’t sleep, for hours I couldn’t do anything but think back to that role play session, and how it may be real one day. Maybe not the amount I had eaten in it (six feet of sandwiches and a dozen cookies followed by some other stuffing seems unrealistic) but conceptually. I don’t even remember starting, but I found myself touching myself to the thought of it. Then once I had finished I began to drift off to sleep. Lying in my bed, in my underwear, and smelling like sex (a great combination in my experience) As I was falling asleep my last memory before losing consciousness was beginning to touch myself again. What? I already told you I was a bit of a freak. Three times spread throughout the day isn't THAT MUCH. Is it?

Suddenly I find myself seated near the end of a massive table, met by the most amazing scent that I can imagine. Roast Turkey, gravy pies and rolls lay out in front of me. It smells like Thanksgiving on steroids, and looks the same. I pick up a plate at random, on it is a spread of chopped up chunks of meat, on a sea of that fancy blended mashed potatoes, all drizzled in some kind of sauce, and veggies of a dozen kinds scattered throughout it. I get a heaping spoonful and take a bite. As I eat I hear Jack’s voice say “Is everything to your liking ma’am?” and turn my head to the side, to see him dressed like something halfway between a fancy waiter and a dad at a barbecue. Like both of these things he had food with him, and he set down a bowl of tapioca pudding next to me. I looked down the table that stretched out behind him. It was covered in the remnants of a feast, empty plates stacked up as high as could be deemed safe were topped with plates that still contained food, in a tower of seemingly endless indulgence. I said “Wow, looks like a storm blew through here.” As Jack smiled and lifted up a stack of empty plates, he said “Blew? Does that mean you’re done eating already?” then smiled and said “But there’s still so much more to eat, and you’re still so skinny, I thought you wanted to eclipse the fattest person alive?” I looked down at myself to see I was wearing something akin to a toga, with both of my shoulders exposed and a belt cinched around my waist. As my waiter had said, I was still far too thin, and there was still so much to eat. I said “You’re right, I am much too skinny,” followed by something that even surprised me as I said it, “can you make sure I eat till I’m big enough?” Jack knelt down next to me and said “Of course! You are, after all, still on your first serving.” I looked up and down the table, covered on meats and bread rolls far exceeding even the amount I ate in the role play. I said “Well, then I’d better get eating.” And scooped another bite from my plate as Jack said “Good, I’ll replace these plates with full ones, can’t have the table run out of space before the second course even comes out.” And started to walk off with a giant stack of dirty dishes.

I don’t know how long I ate for, time passed by with no clear indicator of any details, as in many dreams. All I know is that I steadily felt myself getting fuller, at a much slower pace than I would actually eating so much, but fuller nonetheless. Each dish tasted amazing, and there was so much food! It seemed like Jack kept bringing out plates from whatever kitchen they came from as quickly as I could empty them. I ravenously devoured huge amounts of meats, breads, fruits, veggies, potatoes, everything that Jake could carry. Until eventually it happened, I heard a snapping noise as I felt a sudden release of pressure. I looked down to see what it was. My belt had popped open, and it was clear why. “I’m huge!” I said in an awestruck voice as I began to cradle my own stomach, which spilled out onto my lap, barely contained by the cloth stretched tight over it. Jack walked by with another plate piled high with delicious food and, once he’d set it down before me he said “Not really no. You’re almost medium sized I’ll give you. But you still fit on a chair pretty neatly.” O stared at him, mouth agape, as he continued, “What? You said not to let you stop until you were big enough. So, what kind of waiter would I be if I said you were done while there were still chairs that could hold you?”

I snapped awake as an orgasm rocked my body, the strongest I had ever felt. I look to the left and to the right as I say “That’s the man I met, isn’t it?” I would date this man, he would feed me absurd amounts of food, then he would fuck my brains out when I was done eating, and most of all, he would make me MASSIVE.