Ngl I’ve been contemplating writing a short story inspired by you about a feedee and feeder going on a date together, where the feedee gets massively stuffed but can’t stop eating, eventually devouring everything in the house. But, still not full, they loose control of their appetite and eat their partner too. It’d be full of lots of stuffing, burps, vore, and romance 🙈
I let out a deep breath that turns into a burp. My belly lets out a gurgle.
Another gorging come and gone. A party sized fast food order completely inside my fat, burgeoning, hefty gut.
All that remains outside are wrappers, a few empty bags, and an empty cup.
I lean back in my chair. It creaks slightly. I’m so full I can barely keep my eyes open, my body devoting all my energy to digesting my oversized meal. I let out a long, breathy sigh.
The buttons on my shirt are straining and it has ridden up. It’s my favorite shirt. Soon I’ll grow out of it. It bothers me. But I cannot stop giving my stomach what it needs.
I let my shirt just roll up the rest of the way. My full, satiated belly softly plops out in my lap. There isn’t really any space for anything else. My stomach easily covers about half of my gigantic thighs. I rub my huge, sensitive, engorged gut. Involuntary moans escape me. My smooth skin is soft and warm, my squishy fat presses in with my hands as I firmly push and precede over the swollen, fleshy orb in my lap.
I’m so tuckered out. My whole evening. My valuable and limited free time…gone. Just like the 1000s of calories of food, my needy, heavy, inflated gut has consumed that entirely too. I have no choice now but to sleep off this multi person gathering sized meal. I can’t remain conscious much longer.
I must get up. It’s so difficult. My belly weighs me down. It all sloshes inside me as I stand. I’m so fatigued, and downright sluggish from the new contents of my stomach. My breathing is labored and short. I’m simply out of breath.
I waddle out of my dining room. My heavy steps are slow, I can’t manage anything fast. I feel dazed, so encumbered, so overladen with delicious food. My belly doesn’t jiggle as much in this state. It’s so solidly filled.
I stop to inspect the damage I’ve dealt in the bathroom mirror. My shirt is draped over my torso like a tent now. 4Xs don’t fit like they used to. I slide it off. My belly is taunt up top. My stretch marks more pronounced. Soft, squishy flab hangs off of me and sags low. My deep overhang shocks me as usual when I turn to the side. I am so wide, and even wider like this. I scoop my prize up in my arms, lifting it. This pushes out another burp. It’s a relief taking the pressure off my back for a moment, achey from lugging this enormous thing around all the time.
Thoughts dance through my mind as I hold up my bloated stomach.
Why do I do this? I eat so much food constantly. Entire evenings, hours on end devoted to consuming it all and digesting it and cradling this fat, overfed gut.
I drop my heavy belly on the counter. A loud, meaty plop echoes off the walls. It has been sagging slightly into the sink. I use both hands to manhandle my squishy, overstuffed pride. Pure ecstasy. My bellybutton gaped more fully open. My thick, blubbery side rolls squished against the edge of the sink. My gut has become a solid, fleshy sack of pleasure. A bulging, globular trophy of unrestrained gluttony and hedonist overindulgence. It’s simply covered in decadent fat. My whole body is overladen with lard.
Why? Because my belly always gets what it wants. It’s pampered. Spoiled. It needs to be filled until it no longer can be. I must oblige. I have no choice. It is a command. I must obey.
ssbbw mommy feeders fattening up their skinny littles? They've reached their ideal size and now want to ensure their little grows up big and strong like mommy~
Just imagine sitting up someones lap, squeezing up against their belly whilst they feed you a bottle of cream? Being held against their soft rolls when you spoon in bed? Proudly telling someone your pants don't fit anymore when their thigh is rounder than your waist?