The Feed (part Two)

Chapter 5

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, my mind a tangled mess. The sound startled me, but not enough to pull me fully from my sulking. “Come in,” I said flatly, expecting one of the staff with another hollow platitude about breakfast.

Instead, Thomas’s face appeared in the doorway, his familiar grin disarming as he wheeled in the now-familiar cart of food.

“Thought you could use a snack,” he said lightly, closing the door behind him.

My stomach clenched at the sight of the cart. Normally, I would have been ravenous by now, but the thought of eating while someone, somewhere, was watching just made me feel so uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, “but I’m not that hungry.”

Thomas frowned, parking the cart near the foot of the bed. “You? Not hungry?” he teased, his voice soft but probing. “What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, my fingers twisting in the sheets as I struggled to find the right words to express what was happening.

“I found something,” I said slowly, my voice trembling. “Downstairs. In a room off the kitchen. There were screens, and they… they’re watching me. They’ve been watching me this whole time.”

Thomas’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe. I studied his face. “Did you know?” I asked, my voice sharper now.

He looked away for a moment, then nodded. “I knew,” he admitted, his voice low. “I’m sorry, Lena. I would’ve told you if I could.”

I stared at him, my chest welling up with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Thomas sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I couldn’t,” he said quietly, his tone weighted with frustration. “Madame Veray doesn’t tolerate disloyalty, and if she thought I’d said anything, I’d lose my job, Lena. I’m already taking a risk just being here with you now.”

His honesty stung, but it also made sense. Of course, he couldn’t stand up to Madame Veray—not without risking everything. He wasn’t the one who had trapped me here. If anything, he was still the only person who’d shown me any kindness since I arrived.

I nodded slowly, looking away. “I guess I understand,” I murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “If I could have warned you, I would have.”

There was a long pause before I glanced back at him, my curiosity overriding my hurt. “Have you seen it?” I asked. “Have you seen The Feed?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” he answered, donning a bit of a sheepish grin.

“What exactly did you see?” I asked, my voice low. “How did I look?”

His gaze met mine, steady and unflinching. “You looked beautiful,” he said simply. “You’re so beautiful, Lena. You’re beautiful on camera, and you’re even more beautiful in person.”

I was somewhat startled by the sincerity in his tone. “Beautiful?” I repeated, almost disbelieving. “What’s so beautiful about a woman eating herself into oblivion?”

Thomas stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “Lena,” he said, “there’s something so alluring about a woman with a big appetite, something that reveals her innermost desires and puts them on display for the world to see. It’s raw. It’s real. There’s something so liberating and endearing about a woman who doesn’t hold back, who goes after what her heart desires, no matter the consequences, a woman who loves to eat and isn’t afraid to get fat—that’s beautiful.”

His words hung in the air, and I let them sink in, turning them over in my mind. Part of me wanted to dismiss them, to call them ridiculous, but another part of me—deep down—understood what he was saying.

I glanced at the cart, the smell of the food beginning to stir something inside me. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?” he asked softly, his tone earnest and sincere.
I hesitated, then met his gaze, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You want to watch me eat?” I asked, my voice low. “Then feed me, Thomas. Get over here and feed me.”

His smile widened, but there was something different in his expression now—a kind of excitement, an unbridled arousal. He grabbed a plate from the cart, a rich chocolate cake with thick layers of frosting, and picked up a fork. Slowly, he walked over to the side of the bed and knelt beside me, holding the first bite up to my lips.

I opened my mouth, the fork sliding in smoothly, the taste of the cake exploding on my tongue. I swallowed, savoring the sweetness, and leaned forward for more. Bite after bite, Thomas fed me, his movements slow and deliberate. Each forkful felt like a ritual, an unspoken connection building between us.

I could feel his gaze on me as I ate, and for the first time, I didn’t feel self-conscious. I leaned into it, into him, letting the food fill me and the warmth of the moment wrap around us. My breathing quickened, my senses heightened, and I started to understand the sensuous nature of what was happening.

When the cake was gone, Thomas set the empty plate aside and reached for more. He hand-fed me rolls slathered with butter, spoonfuls of mashed potatoes dripping with gravy, slices of roasted chicken. I ate everything he offered, feeling his excitement grow with each bite. The hunger I thought had been dulled returned in full force, mingling with something deeper, something I had never felt before.

By the time the cart was empty, I was breathless, my stomach heavy and full, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Thomas stayed kneeling by the bed, his hand brushing against mine as he set the last plate aside. Our eyes met, and the air between us shifted, thick with something I couldn’t quite name—but I wanted to find out.

I let out a soft gasp, my tongue slipping out to wet my lips as I rested my hands on the curve of my overstuffed stomach. “I’m so full,” I murmured, the words barely escaping me. My body felt heavy, pinned down by the sheer weight of everything I had just consumed. “I don’t think I can move.”

Thomas was still kneeling beside the bed, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. His hand hovered near my stomach, hesitant but steady. “Here,” he said quietly, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Let me help.”

When Thomas’s hand brushed against the swell of my belly, I flinched slightly at the unfamiliar sensation of someone else touching me there. His palm settled gently, warm and firm through the fabric of my gown, moving in slow, deliberate circles.

A sigh escaped me before I could stop it. The tension in my body melted away as his steady touch sent waves of soothing warmth all through me. I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the pillows.

“That feels good,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I realized I’d said them.

His touch didn’t waver. Each motion seemed to pull me further away from the anger I’d felt since discovering the truth about The Feed. For a moment, I let myself forget about everything else—the cameras, the comments, the unfairness of it all—and just focused on the way my body responded to Thomas’s touch.

I opened my eyes and I caught the intense expression on his face. There was just something so genuine and real about the way he moved, the way he looked into my eyes and the way that he touched me that took my breath away. He leaned in closer then, pausing just inches from my face as if he were waiting for permission. I tilted my head back, letting my lips part slightly, and that was all the answer he needed.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and tentative at first, as though testing the waters. The kiss deepened slowly, unhurried and full of warmth. My heart raced and my thoughts scattered as I pulled myself into him, the connection between us growing with every passing moment. His hand remained on my plush abdomen, grounding me even as a burning fire coursed through my veins.

Before I fully understood what was happening, his arms slid around my sides, pulling me close. His strength surprised me; he handled me with such ease, as though my size didn’t matter at all. My body shifted under his touch, my fullness pressing against him, but he held me tighter, his grip firm and reassuring.

Beads of sweat formed at my hairline as I let out a shaky breath. I hadn’t been this close to a man in what felt like forever, and the warmth of his body against mine sent a thrill through me that I simply couldn’t deny.

I let my muscles relax, surrendering to him completely. For the first time in so long, I stopped questioning, stopped overthinking. His hands moved gently, one pressing against my back while the other rested just above my hip, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of my gown. I tilted my head forward, resting it lightly against his chest, his steady breathing calming my racing heart.

His touch shifted, his fingers finding the hem of my gown and lifting it gently. A shiver ran down my spine as the cool air hit my skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands. He guided me carefully, turning me onto my side with a strength and ease that left me breathless. My belly spilled forward, heavy and soft, resting against the mattress and flopping slightly over the edge.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

And I did. Completely.

Thomas moved with purpose, his hands trailing down my side to my leg. His grip tightened gently around my ankle, lifting my leg slowly as he adjusted my position. My breath quickened as he removed his pants, and began to thrust his stiff and meaty phallus deep inside of me, his skin brushing against my voluminous backside, causing every part of me to jiggle.

I started to moan with pleasure as Thomas forced the weight of my body down into the mattress, the entire bed now moving with a furious motion. Every nerve in my body felt alive, every sensation heightened as he held onto me tightly, caressing my body with both hands as he lost himself inside of me.

When the moment finally reached its peak, after what felt like hours of unbridled bliss, I felt a wave of pure and unrestrained ecstasy crash over me, leaving me breathless and trembling. Thomas held me tightly as he followed, his own release mirroring mine. The weight of his muscular body against my own softness was comforting, grounding, a reminder that I wasn’t alone.

We collapsed together onto the bed, my body sprawling out as I sank into the mattress, utterly spent. Thomas’s arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me close. His chest rose and fell against my back, his warmth enveloping me like a shield against everything outside this room. For a while, we just lay there in silence, the sound of our breathing slowly evening out. His hands rested gently on my belly, tracing lazy circles that lulled me into a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, finally breaking the silence. His voice was soft and tender, but filled with something deeper, almost reverent. “I’ve never seen anyone like you.”

A slow smile tugged at my lips as I gazed at him, the weight of his words settling over me like a warm blanket. “I’ve never felt like this before,” I admitted quietly. My voice was low, almost hushed, but there was no denying the truth in it.

This body of mine that I had watched grow, expand and change over the past several months, suddenly felt alive in a way I had never experienced before. The soft curves, the fullness, the weight I carried—it felt like it was truly a part of me now, and it had become a source of something new and unexpected. For the first time, I allowed myself to feel that I was truly beautiful, sensuous, and powerful in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine before.
I ran my hand slowly over the curve of my belly, still faintly tingling from the touch of his hands.

“I never imagined I’d get this big, this heavy,” I said to Thomas, my voice trembling as if I were in confession. “Now I can’t help but wonder why I didn’t just let myself get fat years ago.”

Thomas’s smile widened, and he shifted closer, his hand brushing against mine as if to reassure me. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you for as long as I can remember,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve always dreamed of being with a woman as big and soft and as sexy as you, Lena. A woman with an appetite for food as strong and as passionate as her appetite for love.”

I glanced at him, my brow furrowing slightly as I tried to process the intensity in his words. “You’ve been watching me for a while, haven’t you?” I asked softly, not accusatory, just curious.

He nodded, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “I couldn’t help it,” he admitted. “Ever since the moment I first laid eyes on you, Lena, I was completely hooked. I just had to come see you, to get to know you—to see for myself that you are actually real and not just a figment of my imagination. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in my life, Lena, and now that I’m here with you, I don’t ever want to let you go.”

His words were so earnest, so raw, that I found myself at a loss for just what to say. Part of me wanted to believe him, to get lost in the idea of being someone’s everything, but another part of me just couldn’t be sure. That night had changed something inside of me, it had opened a door that I’d kept locked for so long. I wasn’t ready to think about a future just yet—not with Thomas, not with anyone. I needed to figure out what this all meant for me first.

Still, I couldn’t deny the connection between us, the way his presence made me feel seen, desired, in a way I never had before. I reached out, letting my fingers brush against his cheek, and offered him a small, genuine smile. “You’re sweet, Thomas,” I said softly, “and tonight was more than I ever thought it could be.”

We lay there in the dim light, tangled together, our breaths mingling in the quiet. His hands rested on my belly, tracing slow, lazy circles that made me feel cherished, adored. I let myself relax into his arms, savoring the moment for what it was—a discovery, a beginning, a night unlike any other. As the hours slipped by, the world outside this room faded away, leaving only us. For now, that was enough.