Chapter 1

Cairo’s hands rest on the steering wheel as we wind through the city streets, fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the leather. His gaze is steady, trained on the road, though I notice how his shoulders shift now and then, like he’s trying to settle into the seat but can’t quite get comfortable. I know him well enough to recognize the hesitation in the quiet, watchful way he drives, like he’s waiting for an excuse to turn around.

After a moment, he glances my way, brow furrowed. “I’m really not sure about this,” he mutters, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the low hum of the engine.

I can’t help but smile, letting my fingers fiddle with my seat belt. “Then it’s a good thing you don’t have a choice.” I grin at him, savoring the flash of surprise, and maybe even a little thrill, in his warm, hazel eyes.

He raises a brow, skeptical, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he takes me in, looking through a fringe of dark, curly hair that falls over his forehead. He shifts again, his weight pressing into the seat as he settles. It’s a small movement, but I can’t help noticing the way his body adjusts, the way his t-shirt pulls taut over the generous curve of his belly, pressing outward against the fabric. The back of his shirt rides up slightly, revealing a chubby sliver of olive-toned skin where his love handles spill over the waistband of his jeans. A small patch of his back fat peeks out, soft and tempting, and I reach over and run my fingers over it, feeling the warmth of his skin under my hand.

Cairo doesn’t flinch or pull away, he’s used to my touches and attention by now. His body has grown fat and familiar over the past few years, each new curve and soft line proof of my influence over him. He’d been a little chubby when we met, a solid start, and from the first moment, I knew he’d make a perfect feedee. Sweet and independent, with just the right amount of submissiveness hiding under that quiet confidence of his. He was a feedee already well-entrapped in the world of feedsim, so it didn’t take much coaxing to nudge his body further—his metabolism was naturally slow, his appetite big, and his body already soft and pliable, eager to take shape under the hand of a feeder. We’d clicked immediately, in every way that mattered, and feedism just felt like an extension of that connection.

He sighs, breaking my train of thought. “I’m not even hungry,” he says, sounding more nervous than convincing. I can’t help but laugh, tilting my head back in amusement.

“When has that ever mattered?” I ask. A reluctant smile tugs at his lips, and he glances my way, unable to deny it.

“True,” he concedes after a pause, his voice lighter now, amused.

He’s right, of course. He’s probably still full from breakfast, a meal I ensure is always heavy to start the day off right. But there’s something irresistible about pushing him just a little further, seeing how far he’ll go to please me.

“Besides,” I say, my tone a bit lower, “being full will only make it better.”

He bites his lip, his eyes darting to the side as he considers it, but his brow furrows again. “But… what if someone sees?” His voice drops to a whisper, glancing around like we’re already being watched. “It’s the middle of the day. We might get put on a list or something.”

The concern in his voice doesn’t put me off in the slightest. In fact, I can’t help the thrill that rises at his worry, the little burst of excitement that only makes me want this more. I look out the window as we pass by a cluster of fast-food joints, each one calling to us with big colorful signs. There are so many things on my feeder bucket list that I want to do, and today, we’re crossing one of them off. Starting with something at the top of my list, something small, simple. I smile as the golden arches coming into view in the distance catch my eye. Even with his worries, I’m not about to back down. And I know Cairo won’t say no, not to me.

“Just get your fat ass in that drive-thru,” I say, the grin on my face widening as he lets out a soft laugh.

Cairo pulls the car into the McDonald's drive-thru. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel as he navigates the lane, his jaw set in nervousness in the way he glances at me. There’s something deliciously sweet about that look, a kind of innocent hesitation that makes me want to draw this out even longer, just to watch his resolve melt away.

We inch forward in line, and soon, the voice crackles through the speaker. “Welcome to McDonald's, what can I get for you today?”

I sit back. A large Big Mac meal with a vanilla shake, I think, knowing his go-to “snack” by heart. Sure enough, Cairo clears his throat and orders. “Uh, I’ll take a Big Mac meal… large, with a large vanilla shake.”

A pleased smile spreads across my face as he says it. His voice holds that soft, obedient tone, like he’s slipping into the role that comes so naturally to him. The employee on the other end barely misses a beat, asking, “Anything else?”

Cairo glances over at me, his eyes wide and expectant, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the adorable look on his face. There’s something endearing about the way he looks to me like this, waiting for direction, open and willing to do whatever I ask. It’s one of the things I adore most about him, this easy readiness and poised obedience. His lips part slightly, and his eyes ask the question he doesn’t say out loud.

“More,” I say softly.

Without missing a beat, he turns back to the speaker and adds, “Uh, and… two McChickens.”

He looks at me, brow raised, like he’s hoping he’s guessed right. I take a moment to survey him, mentally going over what he’s already eaten today. Breakfast had been heavy, but not that much, and it was hours ago. He can definitely handle more. I tilt my head, raising my eyebrows in that silent encouragement he’s come to recognize so well.

Cairo blinks, then nods almost to himself as if to say, ‘Okay,’ and he turns back to the speaker once more. “Also a ten-piece McNuggets… and two apple pies.”

I give him an approving smile when he looks back at me. “Good piggy,” I murmur, just loud enough for him to hear.

A pink flush spreads over his cheeks, but his eyes are brighter than ever as we pull forward. I see the flicker of excitement in his expression, the way he can’t quite hide his own thrill at getting to eat something filling and fattening. He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, paying for the order while my own anticipation builds steadily, always excited to see him stuff himself.

As he pulls up to the next window, I let my hand drift over to his belly, grazing my fingers along the curve of it. I press my palm gently into the softest part of his lower belly, giving it a subtle squeeze, and I feel him shift under my hand. His eyes flick over to me, nervous but smiling, his cheeks still flushed. He doesn’t ask me to stop, doesn’t say a word. Instead, he settles in, letting me fondle his fat freely.

My hand moves upward, stroking the plushness of his upper belly as an employee leans out of the window with his order. I catch her glance down, her eyes widening just a fraction as she notices my hand resting on his large stomach, fingers gently kneading, as though I’m claiming him in this small, subtle way. Her gaze meets mine for a brief second, and I see her take it in, a glint of confusion in her eyes, before Cairo clears his throat and reaches for the bag.

“Th-thank you,” he mutters quickly, his face a shade redder as he accepts the heavy bag and passes it over to me, his eyes filled with a mix of shyness and excitement. He looks at me then, soft incredulity etched across his features, like he still can’t quite believe what we’re doing. But I just give him a warm smile, reaching into the bag and plucking out a few fries. They’re hot and crispy, just the way he likes them, and I hold them up to his mouth.

He pauses, eyes locked on mine for the briefest moment, before he opens up, letting me slide the fries past his lips. He chews slowly, savoring the taste, and I can practically feel the tension easing from his shoulders as he gives in to the moment, letting himself relax.

“Over there’s good,” I say, pointing to an empty parking spot just ahead.

Cairo nods, his hand slipping back to the wheel as he guides the car over to the spot, his gaze flicking between the bag of food and my face, as though he can’t quite decide which one he should direct his attention to more. He pulls into the space, shifting the car into park, and sits patiently as I pull food out of the bag. I can see the anticipation building in his eyes, the hint of a grin playing at his lips. The car is filled with the scent of warm fries, thick and familiar.

I grab a few from the carton and lean over, bringing more to Cairo’s mouth. He takes each offering slowly, and I giddily watch, savoring the small smile on his face as he chews. There’s this quiet confidence about him that I love, the way he lets me guide him, lets me indulge him completely, and just the sight of him, so relaxed and happy, makes my heart beat faster.