Chapter 1 (Full)

I fidgeted with the few small wrinkles in my dress as the elevator took me higher. The backless black dress hugged my largely slim figure. I rested my exposed back against the shaggy brown carpet draped over the elevator walls and breathed deeply the evening air. The copper elevator door reflected a distorted version of myself back. The green glint of my eyes just barely visible beneath my fringe and soft black curls. The arc of my back giving me the look of a cat, ready to either pounce or flee. For all I knew this could all be an elaborate prank for a naïve woman like me to fall into. I was prepared to escape at the faintest hint of danger.

There was a ding and the elevator opened up onto an inviting restaurant. The high ceiling of the place was supported by enormous windows that reflected the gleam and flash of the city lights below like so many lens flares in the darkness. The interior was lit with moody lighting that spotlighted a variety of booths along the windows. A strange mix of private and exposed, their seats looked plush. Each one textured in deep swirls of caramel and chocolate. The booths all had a round mahogany table, and at the closest booth I spotted the man I’d come to meet waiting for me.

His brown eyes met my green ones as he smiled and stood. Inviting me to join him.

You could tell he was a tailor from a mile away. His crisp three-piece suit fit him just perfectly. His jacket was a rough cinnamon brown, with hints of a pink pinstripe running down it like rivets of melted candy. Paired with it was a paisley gold waistcoat and a coffee tie. He looked positively edible and I thanked the heavens for my make up covering the hot flush of my cheeks as he took my hand and seated me across from him.

The seat of the booth was surprisingly hard, but I had to admit my lack of butt was partially to blame for that. I fidgeted with my dress again, feeling rather under dressed in this luxurious place and company.

Fortunately, when I looked up, I could see that the Tailors smile did touch his eyes. He seemed genuinely pleased and eager to meet me in person. I was finally able to retract my mental claws and smile back. We said hello and talked small, even though I had a burning question for him.

Suddenly food arrived along with an expensive red. The Tailor explained he had taken the opportunity to order an appetizer for us early. Rather than some simple offering of salmon on cracker or similar taster, it was a dessert on a reflective gold platter. This restaurant was special he explained, as the entire menu was a dessert menu. People came from all over the world for their selection of luxury cakes and puddings.

I bit my bottom lip and saw it reflected back in gold and chocolate hues. This sort of food was completely alien to me. I worked in an office 9 to 5 on weekdays and rarely could treat myself to this sort of indulgence. I didn’t even recognise the desert in front of me fully.

It looked like a rich dark chocolate egg nestled in a thick thread of chocolate and perhaps… hazelnut? No, I was mistaken, it was caramel! To match the restaurants aesthetic down to the very food on the plate. Around the base were what looked like Ferrero Rochers in dimpled gold packaging. The Tailor then took a spoon and cracked the egg on top. A creamy white fondant spilled from inside. I giggled a little, somehow it was the most elaborate crème egg I had ever seen, and also incredibly suggestive at the same time.

Once again, our eyes met. His gaze was something devilish now, a feverish gold flame melding with the natural brown of his eyes. Like any good tailor he had used this chocolate thread to pull me closer and toy with my barely concealed desires. How could I be coy? It was obvious. I desperately wanted to be fed, and he desperately wanted to feed me.

It was subtle details, but from the moment I laid eyes on his profile I knew we had this kink in common. I felt the chocolate crack in my mouth and the fondant melting upon my tongue. Always food, always fattening. His descriptions oozing with innuendo. A pile of golden wrappers formed on the plate as the balls of nut chocolate were eaten, two or three at a time. When I had asked him outright if he was a feeder, he had invited me here. The taste of caramel and chocolate hung heavy on my lips as my clothes stretched taught around my small belly, and this was only the first course. My reactions confirmed everything he’d suspected on his end too, that I was a beginner feedee.

Though he had noticed I’d already started my journey of indulgence prior to tonight. As a tailor he’d noted how the backless dress didn’t quite sit the way you’d expect for an expensive evening dress. His eyes could detect every bit of stretch or roll in the fabric. I’d never felt so undressed by someone’s eyes in my life, it was incredibly forward, yet refreshing. I was tired by the restraint’s society imposed on me. If I wanted to be a big and beautiful woman that is exactly what I would become. I’m hopeful this tailor will help release me from those bonds of shame, even if it meant my dress might need some extra fabric soon.

Many slices of cake and a few servings of pudding later I looked on the verge of child birth. My dress was so strained that it looked fit to rip open at any moment. The fact that it was backless made it even riskier that the whole thing would snap apart. Though surely animalistic at heart, the Tailor remained a gentleman for now. He gave me his suit jacket (to allow me some dignity) as I stood shakily, with weak knees. His jacket went down further than my dress did, the thick fabric warm on my exposed shoulders.

In the elevator we both rested against the shag brown walls. It had been a good night for the both of us (even if I’d been the one doing most of the eating). He whispered to me that if I wasn’t too tired, I should take some measurements tonight while still bloated. He could prepare a new dress for me, one that would not limit my appetite so cruelly. I was sleepy but nodded appreciatively and gave him a kiss on the cheek. I could feel his excitement against my thigh and knew he wanted to come and measure me himself, but I wanted to grow into myself more before inviting him home.

I took the measurements, careful not to suck in any of my bloated belly fat as I did so. Texting him he promised a dress that would not restrain my appetite and that he hoped that appetite will have grown by the time we next returned to the restaurant. With our busy schedules, it would be about a month.

In the meantime, I worked on that appetite of mine. I bought larger plates and threw out my old ones, encouraging myself to eat larger portions whenever home. The Tailor sent me many recipes for cute deserts and I tried them all.

The savory was just as important though, being sure to eat the fat straight off the meat, chewing the gristle and rubbing my stomach with satisfaction as I unbuttoned my jeans. Again, and again, and again.

My belly was always bloated, and it was getting tougher to suck in at work. My chub would stop my zipper often and there were angry red marks where my work pants dug into the beginnings of a belly roll. I stopped walking to work and took the bus, as my thighs began to chafe as my thigh gap began to close. I should’ve felt ashamed but I felt terribly sexy instead. I kept the tailor constantly updated and I could tell he enjoyed my developments as much as I did.

It was still a week before our planned return to the restaurant when my work pants finally buckled and a button popped clean off. My fat belly held up the pants instead, I was a proper chubby girl now. My eyes gleamed a greedy green and as I smiled, I could tell my face was beginning to soften up as well.

I gave my belly an appreciative slap, but knew I couldn’t go into work like this, it was a tailoring emergency. He looked just as glamorous at work as he had at the restaurant. Without charge, he was happy to sow on a button to replace the one I’d popped. He cheekily chose a chocolate button, to remind me that I’d popped it because of how much fatter I had become. While I was there, he took my measurements.

The tape measure sunk into my newfound chub. He was very impressed, though he warned me that a rapid gain carried risks. There was a look in his eyes that suggested he knew this all too well. I gave him another kiss on the cheek and reassured him that he had nothing to worry about, I guided his hand under my shirt and he gave me a good squeeze. That gold spark was back in his eyes and he seemed reignited. He guided me into the back and showed me the dress he had prepared for our second date night.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw it. A beautiful high waisted dress made just for me. It had thick stripes in cinnamon and candy that would make me and the Tailor a pair. Apparently, the stripes would make me seem even fatter, and the high waist would mean that I could gorge on as much food as I pleased. He noted as well that it was dry clean friendly, so don’t worry about being a little messy. Anyone else would’ve been shocked to hear their future outfit described this way, but I felt a hot flush at such bold statements. He really did love that I was getting fat, it wasn’t a cruel joke. We shared a long passionate kiss. My claws dug into his back, and my softening stomach rubbed his shirt, my newfound fat squishing against his abs.

As I rode the elevator up my candy dress complimented my fuller figure. As we hit the restaurant floor, I felt my belly jiggle underneath. My muffin top spilled over copper panties and my boobs struggled at the confines of a matching bra. Yet the dress fit perfectly. he’d correctly predicted just how much gain I’d have in my thickening arms and breasts. The pear shape I was growing into nicely after many a night of indulging my appetite. Reflected back at me in the elevator doors was a very plump and contented house cat. I pulled on the dress and let it flow over my tubby belly. I was thoroughly impressed. Though part of me did wonder how such a fit man had got so good at understanding weight gain as he had.

When I was seated in the booth it felt much plusher this time, then I realised it was because my butt had also become plumper, along with the rest of me. I looked down at a golden plate, the glow reflecting off my dark curls and the subtle beginnings of a double chin. In my mind I imagined my Tailor kissing the soft flesh as he fed me another bite of cake. It was a satisfying imagine, which became partially correct as he fed me a spoonful of rich carrot cake with thick cream cheese icing.

As I was eating, an athletic looking woman approached the booth. She was dressed in a lavender dress, and had on a softly glittering lilac lipstick. She seemed to know the Tailor. His reaction indicated a clear fondness, though I sensed none of the golden lust that had shined when his eyes were devouring me with every bite I took. So focused was I on her and the tailor, that it took me a moment to notice the jolly man standing next to her. While he looked strong, his dinner jacket barely contained a massive beer keg of a belly that poked out from beneath his dinner jacket. As they turned to depart the woman casually brushed my collar bone (or where my collar bone should be) with her finger tips, and gave the area an appreciative squeeze. She gave me an approving smile and the Tailor a nod, then headed to her booth. A waiter followed them with their own golden tray, piled high with dark chocolate macarons. The woman was a feeder like my Tailor was.

I felt my claws extend; how many girls had the Tailor brought here? Perhaps I am to be fed, only to be discarded once sufficiently fat to be tossed to the wolves. Perhaps I was already the talk of all the possible feeders here. I imagined myself naked and round, surrounded by jeering onlookers. If I’m to be teased I want it to be by those who love my body, regardless of how gluttonous I am. Let me revel in my chubbiness and how hopelessly I’ve let myself go. Don’t make a fool out of me my Tailor.

He sensed the change in mood and after a moment seemed to realise the issue. It was true he had brought other woman here, but those relationships had ended because he didn’t want to hinder their decisions to lose weight after he’d helped them indulge in big gains. His preference for women went in one direction only, so he was here to encourage my gaining as long as I wished to gain. As long as I took pleasure in it, he would also be pleased. He didn’t want to hinder an effort to change if I ever wanted something different though, and he would never want to humiliate her in a way she wouldn’t want to be. I angrily took another bite of cake. This man always knew what to say and sometimes that was very annoying.

He was saying what I wanted to hear, but why was this man so restrained and formal? Where is the animal? Is he just spinning me a yarn? His chocolate threads could not fully distract me, though the sugary goodness of the desserts certainly felt good on my lips. It might be a little distracting. I felt my cheeks flush hot and I took a sip of wine.

Even in a huff I was still an eager, gluttonous woman. I had worked too hard on increasing my appetite in the past month to let that go to waste. I swallowed trifles and tiramisu and as much chocolate and ice cream as I could. Despite my Tailors best efforts, I began to feel a tightness in my tubby belly as it pushed way out over my lap and began to mold the dress to its shape. My Tailor moved around to my side of the booth and subtly reached under my dress to rub my fully belly. I moaned with pleasure. I felt wet and weak at the knees with just how big I was becoming. I wanted no restraint, only indulgence.

Once more I wore the Tailors suit jacket to keep my dignity, but this time he was coming home with me. Though I had undone all his hard work with the dress, I could tell I had impressed him and that he wanted me more than ever.

When we got back to my apartment however we hit a snag. I was so big with all the stuffing that I couldn’t get out of my dress. There was a zip to help ease the pressure but after it got caught on my chub it buckled and broke off. The Tailor looked a bit sheepish at that, and I found my heart flutter at his sweetness.

For a moment we were stuck with my big belly pressing up against him, but no way to release the pressure. Then with a characteristic shine in his eyes, he pulled out his tailoring scissors.

I’d never had to be cut out of a dress before. The silver flashed in my bedroom lights as it cleaved through the rich chocolate brown and candy floss pink. My chub to spilled out of the flap left behind. Finally, the dress sprung lose, and my belly drooped out over my copper panties.

He didn’t stop there though. With not so much as a second thought he cut my panties off at the hips, releasing the pressure on my love handles. Finally, with his free hand massaging my crotch, he cut the bra from my back, my tits spilling out onto my full belly.

Rather than undressing himself he began kissing me on my soft chin and then everywhere else. Kissing all of my soft curves. I really did feel a big beautiful woman. From my breasts, to my love handles, to the underside of my taught belly, to my growing thighs. I’d never felt so womanly and so adored. Eventually I felt his head squeeze between my thighs and I let out a moan of pleasure and began to orgasm as he devoured me.

I could tell he wanted to show that he truly loved me, and that my pleasure was enough to satisfy him, but I wanted to give more. I wanted to give him satisfaction. I took charge and ordered his shirt and pants off at once. As he undressed slowly, I got down on my plump knees. My belly rested on them, fully unobstructed. As I felt his member in my soft hands. Looking upwards I got a final surprise.

Now shirtless, I could see that there was more to my tailor than I’d expected. His custom threads concealed a secret. His body was athletic and muscular, yet his abs, chest and thighs were absolutely covered in faded purple tiger stripes. They were the markings of what must have been a truly rapid and energetic gain. Long in the past. As he towered over me, I saw him bare his teeth. A tiger in the jungle. Finally, I’d found the animal in him.

I wasted no time in pouncing. I greedily licked at his engorged cock as it dribbled into my mouth. He was tailored for my appetite. My claws grabbed at his buttocks as his grabbed at my curls. He pushed himself deeper into my mouth. I would have gagged but I was a lot more used to having things in my mouth than I’d once been. I brought him to climax and enjoyed swallowing what felt like the fondant of that crème egg all over again.

That night we lay in bed together, his head on my fat house cat belly, as I stroked his tiger stripes. All fear was gone and I felt thoroughly content. Thought I would expect my Tailor to work hard on a new dress for me tomorrow, and fulfil many more orders to come. He was truly tailored for me.