Summertime fatness, part II
This feedist fiction about a European feedress and an American male feedee is very long and set somewhere in the US midwest. I will post it in several parts. part I
In general for all parts: female feeder/male feedee, ffa fluff and romance, relationship, feedism, car stuffing, food fair, body worship, slight public play, stuffing
We tried finding a parking spot that wasn’t too far from the entrance but thankfully, car-friendliness wasn’t optional here so we managed to ensure you wouldn’t have to walk too much when you’d be stuffed later. I was quick to jump out of the car so I would get the chance of seeing you shift around and pull yourself up while holding on to the door frame with a little grunting noise. You didn’t really notice every little thing I kept track of but this definitely was one of them. I was always ready to jokingly help you out so you wouldn’t feel too weird when it would become necessary one day (- "one day or day one“ hahah).Â
Maybe I wanted you to get there, I‘d decide eventually - I‘d have to see what that would mean on the overall scale of costs and benefits and I could ask you as well but uhm.. didn’t think that would be much of an issue, you‘d get where I want you to be because you needed me at this high level of being attracted to you, it was quite addicting and you‘ve never felt better about yourself so if I wanted you fatter, you would let me fatten you, simple as that.Â
I enjoyed my power even if it scared me a little sometimes because I was never sure whether you’d stop me from anything ever. But maybe I was in fact always more reasonable and controlled than I thought and your general risk assessment of "it could be worse" was accurate.Â
You took my hand and we started exploring. We didn’t get far because the second stand had fried dumplings with a decadent and juicy pulled pork-filling and we both wanted to try. Your belly was only slightly poking out, I could catch a glimpse of your overhang when you moved at this stage but I was determined to have this shirt on you stretched to the max by the end of the day and your belly so stuffed you could use it as a built-in table. The dumplings were very rich but delicious and I would simply give the rest of my portion to you because I wanted some more things and watching you sweat while you ate was also making it hard for me to focus on my own hunger for food when the sight of my sweaty hog was reminding me of a different hunger.Â
My feeder drive was kicking in pretty hard manifesting as an intense urge to get you to far exceed your already high maintenance calories and internal strategizing: What issues could I run into? You might feel too hot. Okay, I‘d make sure we‘d avoid direct sun and the next stop would be cold lemonade. You could feel less hungry due to the heat. I wouldn’t be able to change that really but could substitute actual hunger with increasing your motivation to please me - I didn’t want this to get too dark, so I wouldn’t work with conflict that you could resolve by eating more but rather with positive reinforcement. I liked that about our dynamic - you cared enough about my happiness to not require negative emotional pressure really and I felt that kept me a nicer person that I much preferred to be (I can‘t be expected to just accept my boyfriend not wanting to eat as much as I‘d like, can I?). So I‘d throw in a little photo session, make someone else take couple pics in the middle of our market tour so you‘d know how proud I am to show you off right when you‘re starting to feel full. And of course, I‘d make sure to stay affectionate and compliment you generously. That should work.Â
You finished the dumplings and we got lemonade next - I went for some weird experimental stuff but well, you knew I‘d get something like lavender-basil instead of something normal like a sugary strawberry-vanilla. I wasn’t used to the culinary customs here after all, I drank water and unsweetened tea all my life and unusual tastes in drinks were interesting to me. You inhaled your large drink and I got you another one before finishing mine.Â
The next stand we stopped at had corn dogs - I had tried those before and found them a bit bland maybe but would always be won over by your enthusiasm for them. They looked nice and greasy, so we got you three and decided to sit down on one of the wooden tables with big sturdy benches (I was grateful for the rustic look they are going for here, otherwise we’d have been stuck with less durable seating options). I sat next to you and kept subtly touching you under the table while I fed you the corn dogs. I’d stay close to you to not make our little feeding habit too public but rather integrate it into a combination of kissing and affection. "Get yourself nice and full for me today, make me proud. I wanna see how far we can stretch your belly. Do you see the couple over there? They‘re staring at us so I will grab your moobs now to make it known that you’re mine and that I want you this fat and even fatter", I whispered to you before doing as I said, squishing the impressive fat cushions that had formed on your chest. "Great pec development, you’re really my body building champion, darling. Open up, you got one more corn dog left and the people wanna know how they can achieve your build. Be good for me and eat, we‘re not leaving until this shirt rides up to your belly button."
You got kinda hard under the table and I knew that - I looked at you and grinned while confirming with my hand that you blushing in this way meant what it usually did. I was so proud of how well-conditioned you had become. Only a few words of encouragement and some food put into your mouth and you‘d stop thinking with your brain. "You’re doing good Sweetie, I‘m really so proud but you know you’re not nearly full enough to be allowed to cum. So let me help you up and we’ll for sure get you there today. Come on, you wanna be well-behaved." I pulled you up with both my arms and almost fell backwards because I hadn’t actually needed as much momentum as I thought but you were quick to catch me by holding on to my waist.
There was a stall selling French savoury crêpes and they looked amazing. I got one with wild spinach and salmon and you went for goat cheese and honey which came from a local beekeeper as well as one with bacon and mustard. This was my kind of food, it was fantastic. You "tried" my crêpe by biting off a third of it when I brought it to your mouth - I‘d hate everyone else who did this but you were the only exception since I knew I‘d profit immensely from paying taxes to the piggy prince regularly. I pouted a bit but you laughed at my little fake outrage. "You don’t have to give me this look, I‘ve seen you thrive while only feeding me so I don’t think that small bite was as important to you as this", you said while proudly slapping your own belly. I turned a bit red because you were right and I wondered if anybody had overheard my boyfriend pointing out my fat fetish in the middle of a market. You were right though, my partner was the one person I‘d happily share my food with and I definitely wouldn’t go hungry today. On the contrary, I actually needed to plan how I could eat together with you and try as many things as possible with a much smaller capacity than yours.Â
I got a water and you got a coke to drink in between and with the fizzy liquid joining the food that started to add up inside of you, your stomach started to look nice stretched out. You leaned further back with your upper body now and started to waddle more, carrying your distended gut in front of you. You let out some burps and I giggled about it. It wasn’t particularly sexual to me, just slightly taboo and it matched your hog-like appearance as you put your hand around my waist again and casually let it wander down to my ass to grab it. I was worried that you’d pull up my dress too far but this also wasn’t a situation where I would even so much as think about setting you a boundary.
You were happily getting stuffed in public, you had gained weight this week already and were about to gain even more, your smile was emphasizing how your cheeks had filled out more, you had already gotten hard from me feeding you, so even if you wanted to fuck me right here, I wouldn’t have said no. Somebody else would need to stop you then because I for sure wasn’t gonna tell my perfect little glutton that he can’t have whatever he wants when he’s eagerly overeating for me. I was getting concerningly wet thinking about this but well, you needed more food and it was time to sit down again.
