chapter 1

Clair's feeder tendencies were never a secret.

"I like you..." She said on their first date. "I just can't help but wish you were a little... bigger."

Max had offered to start working out, but Clair soon clarified what she meant.

At 6'1 and 180 pounds, it was fair to use words like "stick" and "beanpole" to describe Max. Their relationship was a whirlwind of passion and food. Max loved to see Clair smile, and nothing made her smile more than seeing him swallow copious amounts of food.

Max crossed 200 on their first anniversary, and that's when they made the big step of moving in together. She baked in a special cake with "200" written in candles at the top she made him eat on all fours.

Clair came from money, she worked a cushy job and made Max completely aware he could just be her big, hunky man if he so chose. But this never sat right with him. Max had a stubborn streak, and while he truly loved Clair he hated the idea of being a burden to her. And to that effect, resolved to keep working. Paying his half of the bills, groceries and entertainment. His low level IT job wasn't exactly grandiose, but he was able to live comfortably off his own money. And Clair kept spoiling him rotten with lavish meals that soon left his work shirts threatening to blow a button.

"You're getting so big Max~!" She said, pushing a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

Max groaned as he swallowed, he was uncomfortably full, but he knew better than to speak up. When Clair was in this mood, the feeding didn't stop until she was satisfied.

Clair spread her legs and crawled onto Max's lap, leaning against his taught tummy as she raised the pint of melted ice cream and proclaimed "Down the hatch tubby! And breathe through your nose. I'm pouring till you can see the bottom of this container."

Max grunted in discomfort as he swallowed the sweat, creamy liquid. His stomach growled in protest and Clair let out a soft, almost imperceptible moan of please from the sensation of pushing her weight down onto Max's poor, overburdened guts.

Finally the pouring stopped and with a mighty belch, Max was reduced to a moaning, overfed piggy.

"And now for your reward!" Clair said with a wink, throwing Max's arm over her shoulder and half assisting, half dragging him to the bedroom.

It was the best sex Max could ever remember having, but he couldn't help but feel alarmed that, during the aftermath, he was covered in sweat and struggling to catch his breath.

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"220...&qu ot; He said, looking at the scale. 40lbs of fat he gained for Clair. Looking down, he couldn't even see the tip of his flaccid cock anymore past the round, stretch mark riddled pot belly.

He hated the idea of it... but he knew he had to talk to Clair.


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"It&ap os;s not that I don't want to keep growing for you!" He said, "It's just that at work, they keep telling me my constant panting and sweating is a distraction. I can't run cables anymore without getting winded, and I can't fit in my work shirts anymore."

Max could tell she was disappointed.

"I love you Max. And although I would love to have more of you to express that love on, I respect your choice." She said.

And to her credit, she stopped forcing food on Max. But a year of bad habits has a way of enforcing themselves.

Max just couldn't get full off of normal size portions anymore. And every attempt to subsist of of diet food inevitably resulted in him sneaking car rides to dairy queen.

He felt flush with panic and shame when, on the second anniversary of he and Clair's relationship, he had to suck in his gut to see the number "240" on the scale.

"20 pounds... and I can't blame even a fraction of it on Clair." He moaned.

That day at work, he was called into his manager's office.

The company was very careful to phrase his termination. Using metrics like idle time and productivity standards. He knew the real reason though, his *** wasn't as nimble as it used to be, and he couldn't do every aspect of his job at his desk. To be honest, he knew it was coming when he submitted an invoice for a larger chair only to be met with silence from accounting. Requests never come back as radio silence unless someone in management told them not to bother.

Clair, of course... was supportive.

"Baby... you know you never needed to work." She said, embracing him in a large hug.

"Just think, you'll have so much more time with me now that you don't have to leave! I'm happy to take care of you."

"That's just the thing..." Max said, failing to meet her eyes. "I... I just can't! I have to feel like I'm taking care of myself. I know I don't need to work, but I just have to ok!" Max said, tearing up out of frustration.

"You... stubborn fucking ass!" Clair said standing up. "I love you! I've supported you! I even backed off feeding you when you asked me to. I saw you come home every day, miserable working a job you hate, miserable because you don't feel free to live how you wish out of some... antiquated sense of social norms? I hate seeing you like this and you are intent on going right back to it because your pride won't let you accept your partner can meet your every need!"

"You shut up!" Max said, bolting upright. "This is all your fault anyway. Look at this!" Max said, pulling the two sides of his straining work shirt apart. There was the sounds of string snapping as buttons fell to the floor, revealing Max's heaving, hairy and jiggly gut.

"Look what you did to me!" He said, grabbing his belly and shaking it. "I was borderline underweight when I met you! Now look! I'm a pig." He said, pushing his gut at her.

Fury filled Clair's eyes.

"You told me if fattening up made me happy, you were happy to do it. You loved it, you loved how I couldn't keep my hands off every supple, juicy roll you formed and you loved being a glutton... and let's not forget. I had nothing to do with your last 20 pounds fatso. You did that yourself."

The couple locked eyes, both full of fury before suddenly they both collapsed in each others arms.

Neither of them knew who apologized first, but once they both started neither of them stopped for several minutes before than sank to the floor.

Whatever clothes they were still wearing were quickly shed as their heightened emotional states got the better of them... and ontop of a pile of discarded laundry Clair realized in the throws of passion she had a solution.

"Max..." she purred, gently cupping and kneading one of his man breasts in a curiously cat like fashion.

"You know I can support you... and I know you can't allow yourself to feel like you're a drain on me." She said, swinging her right leg over his mound of a belly and climbing on top of him.

"Yes?" He asked.

"And we know you love to gain for me... but you are hesitant because you're worried about being able to do the physical aspects of a potential job.

Max breathing quickened as the beautiful woman sitting on his belly drew herself up to full height.

"Yes..." He moaned out.

"So what if..." she released his left man breast and began teasingly flicking his nipple.

"Your job was to get fat for me." She smiled devilishly. "You don't have to worry about physical demands... because the demands to push as much as physically possible into you is on me."

She bobbed her head back and forth, as if crunching numbers. "Your salary could be... $100 per pound, and regular bonuses for milestones passed. You'll be earning your fair share, only you'll be contributing pleasure instead on money I never needed." She purred.

Max thought about it. He couldn't deny, he had missed this side of Clair, the side that was powerful, dominant and laser focused on his body. Sex had been good, but nothing like this.

He looked down at his body, he couldn't deny he didn't feel accomplished as all the stretch marks and jiggles his body made.

And when he looked up at Clair, he knew there was only one choice.

"Where do I sign?" He asked.

Clair smirked. "Oh... it's an oral contract." She said, before sliding onto his face.