Chapter 1 - A Wonderful Partnership

*Writers’ note – Whilst this is currently just an introduction and might be a bit too much of a slow burn for some people, I hope you'll give it a chance. If you like my writing style, please also check out my other story "Harry and Grace - A feeder's fairytale" which has some spicy content already. If you like either story so far and want more, please interact with them (like/comment/follow). I struggle to find time to write but am more likely to make time if I know I'm not just writing for myself.*

With hesitation, Rachel hit send on the text message she had spent the last 10 minutes agonising over. It wasn’t the wording of the text itself which had been difficult to write. In fact, as texts went, it was fairly short and to the point. No, the difficulty had been who she was texting and why. She was replying to an advert posted on a reddit forum she had stumbled across: “Female Feedee wanted for in-person stuffing – financial compensation available”. After some googling and a delve down the internet rabbit hole of the feeder/feedee and stuffing fetish communities, she had found herself unexpectedly drawn to the idea. She appreciated a good meal and the idea of being paid to eat was almost too good to pass up. And yet, the concept of meeting a complete stranger from the internet to indulge in a fetish kink was, for obvious reason, a scary one, hence the long delay between writing the message and sending it.

“Hey, I saw your message on the r/feedee forum about looking for a feedee and I’m interested. Could you let me know how it works please? Thanks, R”

Setting her phone down, Rachel let out a long breath, which she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. However, not even a minute later, her phone buzzed.

“Hi R, glad to hear you’re interested. I prefer to meet face-to-face with new applicants to explain the details. How does this Saturday at 7 sound? I’ll book a restaurant. S”

Rachel sighed again. While still incredibly nervous, she was somewhat relieved that the other person had suggested a public meetup. Also, the fact that she hadn’t immediately received a dick pic suggested they weren’t a complete sexual deviant. Slightly more confidently, she replied.

“Hi S, this Saturday sounds great. What restaurant did you have in mind? R”

“Hi R, it’s a little place I know. I’ll send you the specifics in a few days once I have confirmed the reservation. There is one thing, however. I hope you don’t mind me being too forward but it’s got a strict dress code. Please wear something tasteful. If you send me your details, I’ll transfer you some money so that you can purchase something suitable. S”

Reading this latest message, Rachel was slightly taken aback. What did he mean by “tasteful”? Was he planning to take her to some weird fetish bar where she would be expected to wear a latex bodysuit? She wasn’t particularly keen on that idea, although, if he was going to be sending her some cash, if she didn’t like the sound of the restaurant she could always keep the money and bail. What did she have to lose?

***

That Saturday evening, a nervous Rachel entered the chosen restaurant. It was most certainly not a fetish bar. It was in-fact the nicest restaurant she had ever set foot in, let alone eaten in. It had won multiple Michelin stars and she hadn’t even seen an option to place a reservation online. It was one of those restaurants which was frequented by celebrities and wealthy businessmen, not students like herself. She was half convinced this was all a cruel practical joke and that she would be thrown out at any moment. And yet, the promise of money had been genuine. She had hardly believed it when £5000 had been deposited in her account.

And so here she was. She had bought an elegant black dress which was minimalistic in design and yet accentuated all of her curves in a flattering way. At 5 foot 4 and 175 pounds, she was hardly fat and yet most boys also wouldn’t describe her as thin. She had a slight paunch of a belly and a nicely rounded bum, ample C-cup breasts and thick thighs which ever-so-slightly rubbed together as she walked. Her heart shaped face was framed by shoulder length curly brown hair and her chubby cheeks and large blue eyes gave her an innocent, youthful look.

As she was led through the restaurant, she was surprised to realise that she was being led to a private secluded area and even more surprised when she saw the man waiting for her. She had been expecting an older man, likely in his 50s or 60s, probably overweight and wearing expensive jewellery and watches to compensate. Instead, waiting for her was a young, athletic man, early 30s, in a neatly tailored suit which, whilst obviously very expensive, was also incredibly “tasteful”. There was no doubt about it, he was attractive.

He smiled pleasantly as she arrived, standing and extending a hand.

“R, I presume? My name’s Simon. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I must say, you look absolutely stunning in that dress, an excellent choice. Please, take a seat.”

She shook the offered hand and sat down opposite Simon.

“Thank you. My name’s Rachel.”

She swallowed nervously.

“I’m sorry, this is the first time I’ve ever down anything like this.”

“Well don’t worry. This first meeting is just to go over the proposed arrangement. There’s absolutely no obligation. You can walk away at any point, although of course I hope you’ll stay. In fact, I don’t even like to talk business until after dinner. I took the liberty of ordering for us both. It can be brought out whenever you’re ready.”

***

2 hours later, Rachel set down her fork and drained the last of the wine from her glass. Within moments, the empty dessert plate was whisked away, as all other plates had been throughout the meal. It had undoubtedly been the best meal of her lifetime. Several exquisite dishes had been brought out and she had found herself unable to avoid finishing each and every one. Her belly was now feeling incredibly stuffed and bloated and was visibly distended. As they had eaten, they had talked. Most of the conversation had been about herself, her living situation, her romantic situation, her favourite foods and various other personal topics. At times, it had seemed almost like an interview and, she realised afterwards, it most likely had been.

As Simon’s plate was also cleared, he smiled at her again, leaning in slightly from the relaxed posture he had maintained so far.

“And now, to business.”

He reached down to a briefcase on the floor beside him and pulled out a small bound pile of paper. Placing it down on the table, he slid it across to her.

“I’m pleased to say that you’ve passed the application process and I’d be very glad to accept you as a client. What you have there is my standard contract. Please take a read and let me know if you have any questions.”

“Wait, you have a contract?”

“Of course, I find it’s best for both parties involved if there’s a clear definition of expectations right from the outset. That way there’s minimal risk of confusion.”

“So are you asking me to sign myself into some kind of sex slavery? That’s illegal” Rachel asked disgusted, rising from the table, ready to storm out.

“Absolutely not!”

Simon calmly gestured for her to retake her seat.

“You’re welcome to take the contract away and have anyone you like review it. I can assure you everything in there is perfectly legal. Allow me to summarise for you. By signing the contract, you would be agreeing to enter into an arrangement with me whereby, once a month, we would meet for dinner, much like we did tonight. The time would be agreed at least 2 weeks prior to allow you to plan around your social life. I would choose the location and the food which we would consume. We would maintain pleasant conversation and at the end of the night, I would settle the bill and we would part ways until the next meeting.”

“That’s it? I wouldn’t be expected to sleep with you?” Rachel asked sceptically.

“That is the most basic form of the arrangement. Those terms are non-negotiable should you wish to proceed. There are also certain extra optional packages which you may choose to select from which have extra obligations for both parties.”

He flipped through several pages of the contract, revealing the relevant section. Four sub-headings were clearly visible. Rachel quickly skimmed across them.

“Content Package?” she asked.

“In addition to the monthly in-person meeting, you would agree to further weekly sessions, to be carried out at your convenience, at which I will not be in attendance. During these sessions you will be expected to consume enough food to the point that you are not physically able to consume any more. You are not expected to cause yourself any pain or to make yourself ill. During these sessions you will be expected to wear certain clothing of my choice. The session will be recorded and an additional post-stuffing photo set will be collected by yourself. The recording and photos will be distributed to me and will become my property. In compensation for this arrangement, you will receive a weekly allowance of £500 with which to purchase the necessary food and clothing, in addition to an up-front one-off payment of £3000 with which to purchase the necessary equipment.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped open.

“You’ll pay me £500 just to record myself eating some food?”

“Not just eating some food. The details of what constitutes an adequate session are described in further detail in the contract but you can rest assured that you will have a fair amount of autonomy. You can choose which food to eat as well as make the decision about when to stop eating, within reason.”

Rachel’s mind was racing. She knew the advert had mentioned financial compensation but she hadn’t expected this much. This was almost too good to be true. Excitedly she glanced down at the contract again.

“And the residential package?”

“This package is contingent on the content package. At my discretion, any of the content sessions can be replaced with an in-person session at your place of residence. During these sessions I will be hand-feeding you with your chosen meal. At any time, I may request permission to touch you in a non-sexual manner. For example, massaging your stomach to aid with digestion. You can of course, refuse to give consent or withdraw consent at any time. In compensation, the weekly payments will be increased from £500 to £2000 a week. In addition, the cost of your living arrangements will be paid for in full by myself. If your current arrangements are unacceptable then new living arrangements will be provided.”

Hearing this, Rachel let out a small laugh.

“You’re kidding! You’ll pay my rent for me?” she blurted out, excitedly.

“And pay a weekly allowance of £2000, yes.”

She couldn’t believe it. She just simply couldn’t believe it. Free rent and over £100k a year, simply for letting him feed her. And she didn’t even need to let him touch her. She was struggling to see a catch.

“The growing package?”

“As you have no doubt deduced already. My preferences in women are slightly different from most men’s. I prefer my women to be on the larger side. Of course, not all of my clients wish to be the size that I find most attractive. Some are simply content with the occasional stuffing sessions and otherwise maintain a strict diet and exercise regime to keep their physiques. For those other women who are less concerned, I have the growing package. This is to incentivise and reward those who are willing to gain weight as part of our arrangement. Should you choose to accept the growing package, you will be expected to complete weekly weigh-ins, with photographic evidence of the results, as well as take measurements of your body. As compensation, in addition to all other payments, you will receive an additional weekly payment of £10 for every pound you weigh. With your starting weight of 175 pounds that would be an additional payment of £1750 pounds per week with potential for it to grow.”

Simon smiled again. Rachel was staring at him, mouth hanging open, seemingly lost for words. Eventually after a minute, she managed to collect herself and asked the question that had been burning in her brain since the beginning of the conversation.

“But what do you get out of all this? You’re prepared to give me so much money? What’s in it for you?

“And that brings us to the final package, the consent package. There is no point in denying that my intentions in this arrangement are driven from sexual desires. However, so far, all interaction between us will have been entirely non-sexual. Some clients are keen to keep it that way and I respect their wishes. Therefore, unless you opt into the consent package, at no point will I request or initiate any sexual contact, nor will I request you to complete a sexual act either on me or for my enjoyment. If however, you were open to such an arrangement, by opting in to the consent package, you would allow me to make such requests. As with the residential package, you would of course be able to refuse consent at any point and with no explanation necessary, although I would hope that you wouldn’t. In compensation, you would receive further weekly payments of £5000.”

There was a loud clink as Rachel knocked over her wine glass in shock. She ran through the numbers quickly in her head. If she was prepared to accept all packages, she would be receiving weekly payments of £8750 in addition to her rent being fully paid. That was over £450,000 a year and had the potential to be even more if she was willing to gain weight. This amount of money was simply life-changing. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined this when she first read the advert.

Simon smiled again.

“As I said before, take some time to read the contract and think over your decision and get back to…”

“I’ll do it!” Rachel interrupted him.

“All of it. All packages.”

Simon’s grin widened. He picked up Rachel’s overturned wine glass and refilled it from the bottle of champagne in the cooler. Passing it to her, he raised his own glass in a toast.

“In that case, I look forward to a wonderful partnership.”