The Fattest Valentine

Chapter 1

Valentine's Day just hits a little different when you're dating a feeder.

Isaac and I have been together for just a little over a year, and in that time my body has undergone a transformation like I'd only ever fantasized about. As a young woman, I'd always been a bit on the heavier side-but in my heart, I wished that I could be the fattest woman on earth.

Why did I want this? It's hard to say, really. All I can tell you is that, from the time I was a very young child, I've had an immense love of food; I have always had an insatiable appetite, and an insatiable curiosity about weight and weight gain. Everyone knew me as Andreina-that chubby girl who always seemed to be hungry.

When I met Isaac, it was like a dream come true. My eyes were suddenly opened to a lifetime of fattening possibilities that, previously, I had only dreamt of.

On our first date, he took me out to a buffet, encouraging me to eat as much as I possibly could. I was a bit timid at first, feeling a little self-conscious about showing my gluttony out in public. I'd been conditioned, like so many of us have, to show some restraint when eating out, so as not to draw any attention to myself or how fat I was. In time, however, Isaac got me to loosen up a bit, and before long, I was going up for seconds, thirds, fourths and fifths-each time piling the food upon my plate a little higher. By my fifth plate, the food was stacked up like a volcano, ready to erupt with flavor in my mouth.

Hours later, we left that buffet, only to go to yet another restaurant. This time it was a Brazilian barbecue place-you know, one of those places where the waiters just keep coming to your table, cutting you off endless slices of delicious meats from long skewers. It was amazing; I ate so much that night that I was afraid I might burst. My belly was pushed out like I had an overinflated beachball in my shorts. I was so painfully stuffed that I felt like a lead weight was inside of me.

My only relief was to let out as many burps and belches as I could. Not exactly ladylike, I know, but Isaac didn't mind one bit. In fact, the more I burped, the more it seemed to turn him on.

Later that night, we went back to his place, where I lay in his bed while he gave me the most heavenly belly rubs I'd ever had. I know that might not sound like the ideal way to end a first date, but believe me when I tell you, for the two of us-it was hot as hell.

"I'm always going to take care of you, Andreina," he whispered to me softly as he gently caressed my massively swollen gut. "You just stick with me, and I will make all of your wildest dreams come true."


That was just the beginning of what would be an all-consuming romance between Isaac and I. That night of unbridled indulgence would be followed by many more, as he would take me out to eat almost every night of the week. When we weren't going out, I was usually at his place, where he would have all of my favorite foods there waiting for me. Before long, I was eating constantly. Even when I wasn't with Isaac, the door to permission had been opened, and I was pigging out constantly.

Needless to say, my weight quickly started spiraling out of control. When I met Isaac, I was a mere two hundred and seventy pounds. That number sounds like child's play when I think about it now. By the time Isaac and I were celebrating our six month anniversary, I was tipping the scales at a hefty three eighty-five, and still gaining.

"He's just fetishizing you," my friend Elle tried to warn me, thinking she was doing me some sort of favor. "He's objectifying you and using you for his own sexual satisfaction-it's just a fetish."

What she didn't realize or couldn't possibly understand is that it was my fetish too. Since I was old enough to have any idea what sex was about, all I could think about was how sexy it would be if I could get fatter. Before I met Isaac, I used to lie in bed at night with my hands affixed to my soft belly, rubbing and caressing it, getting all hot and bothered thinking about how hot it would be if it were even bigger and softer.

Now here I am, with a man who is seemingly on a mission to help me accomplish just that. No longer do I need to lay in bed dreaming about becoming fatter, as I am getting fatter and fatter, day by day. Now I have a man who loves, worships, and adores my luscious fat body, who gives me all the belly massages I could ever want, and who makes sure that I am consistently very well-fed, keeping me fat and happy.