Bella Begins *or* How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace my Feeding Fetish
I had a substitute teacher in 4th grade who was a nice, busty, fat apple shape, and very strict. I found out she had a boyfriend, and imagined no woman that confident would date anyone who didn’t like her fat. Then I thought, if he likes her fat, maybe he wants her fatter.
At this point, I had already thought many times when being denied treats or seconds “Or I’d get fat” that I couldn’t wait to be a grown up, so I could get as fat as I wanted. I thought maybe she wanted it too and had found someone who liked it, and helped.
I started drawing cartoons of her and him together, her eating on the couch with a massive gut hanging between her legs, him coming in with more pizza and chips and milkshakes for her. No joke, I drew a feeding machine.
This was in the mid nineties and we didn’t have internet or a computer, so there was no way I could know I wasn’t completely alone. I came up with most of the components to common f.e.e.d.i.s.t fantasies in a complete vacuum, which I can’t explain except to say I am born wired this way. These fantasies about my teacher and her partner sparked my sexual awakening. I started padding my clothes to get excited and get off. I fantasized about famous beautiful women I admired getting fat at the hands of partners.
I made a promise to myself that I would never, ever tell anyone what I had to think of to push myself over the edge, because I thought I must be broken somehow, but maybe I could just keep it a secret forever and attribute the closed eyes to being lost in the moment.
I grew curvier and curvier, and got exposed to more and more messaging about how I was too fat and the wrong shape. I worked out and dieted to get family off my back for being, in retrospect, a perfectly healthy weight.
I did this partially to try to balance out my stuffings. I always loved to eat, but living at home, I rarely had the chance to really go crazy without someone at least noticing food missing, so aside from a few times when I snuck some groceries home, I didn’t get to ever experience the fullness I craved. When I moved out on my own, and had access to late night city food, I had my first real stuffing. I ordered 2 double cheeseburgers, double fries, and a large soda on my way home from a pub, and devoured it like it was nothing. I then went out to the corner market open late and bought a loaf of bread and herbed cream cheese, and finished the whole thing in my dorm room. I felt shame, I was already gaining the freshman 15, but I felt compelled to eat all of it, and afterwords I felt so, so good physically. Heavy. Stuffed. Glutted. I got off and passed out.
I started boxing training 4 or 5 days a week, 2 hours a day, to offset the food when I changed schools, which was lots of fun, actually, I enjoy physical activity and being strong. It also allowed me to have massive ice cream binges at least once a week without gaining too much weight.
At this point I had discovered online f.e.e.d.i.s.t communities and knew I wasn’t alone, but I was reticent to try gaining, due to social pressure mostly, and also because I didn’t have a partner to play with.
I still filmed myself before and after stuffings though. I loved the contrast. I loved the overwhelmed bloating and belching. I deleted all the videos as soon as I was “done” with them, because I didn’t want anyone to find them ever ever. In retrospect I was creating amazing content that I should have been proud of, but these things take time.
I made a couple friends in the community, one of whom I am still very close with. I met a friend who casually mentioned that she used to be a feedee model, and was still a feedee and sometimes gainer. We hung out one day and she gave me a huge meal and let me enjoy it and just be open about the pleasure I felt. She talked frankly about the benefits and detriments of gaining to over 400 lbs, which she had done, but by this time had lost weight and was closer to 275. Society likes to play things like once you get fat, it’s over, and your life will never be the same. In some ways, that’s true, your skin will not shrink back past a certain size, and once you’ve gained enough to make moving less comfortable, you will struggle to go back to some intense workouts. That said, taking care of yourself and making regular choices when you’re not engaged in play (stuffing for sexual gratification) is not actually that difficult. I found it much more difficult when I was in a constant state of self denial, because it was always “I’ll do this once more, then never again”.
I do still like to plan for a stuffing. Give myself time to chose everything I want to eat, plan the menu, pick an outfit that will turn me on to try before, during, and after. Now that I’m gaining, I get the pleasure of feeling my fat move, swell, and bounce on top of the massive binge, feel how the texture changes as I fill my gut.
I’m born this way, I love being this way, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. #feedeeforlife
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