#feeder writing
he had a hunch, but in order to prove it, he’d need to put it to the test.
it hadn’t been the first time he’d caught her staring when she thought he wasn’t looking, but it certainly was the first time he’d found her staring at his stomach in particular. he couldn’t say for sure, but he could’ve sworn he saw something akin to desire in her eyes.
after that, he’d started to notice the little things. things that before wouldn’t have aroused any alarms, but now were all going on his list he had titled “evidence that my crush might be into my belly??” in the notes app on his phone.
like the way she’d always “accidentally” have too much of whatever treat she had brought with her when they were together, and the excess always ended up on his plate. an extra square of brownies, a couple extra muffins, two cups of iced coffee instead of one. not that he’d ever decline it, though. not when her desserts made him want to moan out obscenities in the middle of the lounge they were in.
now, he just had to prove it. secret glances and overly generous, caloric gifts weren’t enough. he had to have undeniable evidence before he’d believe it, so he had arranged for them to meet at an buffet diner that she had mentioned in the past, hoping to put his theory to the test.
she showed up and they went up to the counters, and he went about filling up his first two plates, throwing a glance over to her as he sat down. he held back a grin as he saw her eyes fall down to the full plates, then dart down to his middle, where his belly was concealed by a baggy hoodie he had thrown on. if all went as planned, that hoodie wouldn’t be at all baggy by the time the night was over.
they talked as they ate, and he’d barely noticed he had finished both plates until his fork scraped the empty bottom, and shook them both out of their reverie. he barely had time to react before her she stood up, offering him a smile, telling him she’d go get him another plate. he couldn’t find the words to formulate a response before she was off, and what the fuck–
so she was into it!
once she was back, he dug into the next plate with vigor, chatting along as he ate, but noticing that she hadn’t made herself a plate, and seemed content to sit and watch him eat. it made him squirm in his seat, along with the first notes of fullness that were starting to creep up on him. he let one hand fall to his belly, and he watched her eyes follow. he slipped it under his hoodie, and placed it on the crown of his belly where it had begun to feel tight. her eyes followed the movement, gaze held firm on his belly as he rubbed it, not able to hold back a quiet groan that fell from his lips.
he got up and grabbed his next plate, eating a slower pace this time around, the feeling of fullness ever-present now. she seemed to be unable to sit still, legs rubbing against each other, squirming in her seat almost as much as he was, and he was almost giddy with the thought.
by the time he was finished, they had fallen into a comfortable silence, but her eyes stayed drifting between his belly, which was now filling out the space of his hoodie, the overfull curve of it obvious under the thin material, and his face. he wondered if he could take this a step further, and with a glance around the restaurant, he let out a small moan, watching her eyes widen at the noise.
“i’mreally fucking full, can you give me a hand? or better yet, do you think you could just–rub my belly for a minute, please?” he tried to give her a pleading look, but he didn’t even think he needed to, because she was already crossing over to his side of the booth, her hands falling to his belly. she looked up to him, once, and at his nod, slipped her hands up under his hoodie, already massaging into the warm flesh. god. if this was his reward for stuffing himself silly every time, he could definitely make a habit out of it.
he had been excited at the prospect of finally getting out of his hometown, going away for college and starting his own, new life in a different city. but as the year came to a close, he was even more excited to have a reason to go back home for a few weeks and visit friends and family.
freshmen year had been hard on him, the stress of his job and a harder workload from his classes had resulted in several stress-induced binges, and frequent late-night runs to the nearest available fast food restaurant. all of that had taken a toll on him, and more specifically, his waistline.
he hadn’t put on too much weight, but it was definitely enough to be a shock to any of his old friends when he would see them again. he had always been slim, thinner and more gangly that all of his friends; even in the beginning of his freshmen year, he had been the smallest one in his dorms, but after a couple months, that had changed. that dreaded “freshmen fifteen” had quickly turned into a freshmen twenty five, by the time the school year came to an end. now, his entire body was softer, face a tad fuller, stomach soft and pliant under his fingers, hips taking on a bit of weight.
the first person to comment on it was his mom, who picked him up from the airport. she held him at arms length and gave him a once-over, before pulling him into her arms and telling him she was glad he didn’t starve to death at college. the pat she gave his belly made him splutter, but warmth filled his chest anyways.
the next reactions he received to his altered physique were from his two closest friends. he had promised to meet them for dinner at their apartment, and the look they gave him when they opened the door almost made him laugh. they scanned his body, taking in all its changes, before inviting him in. one of his friends lead him to the table, while the other went to the kitchen, asking if he was “eating for two?”
the family reunion dinner really saw a lot of reaction, especially as he filled up his plate a second time. uncles laughed and clapped him on the back, telling him he was growing up to be a fine young man, while aunts poked and prodded at his belly, pinching his soft cheeks, asking if he had a special someone in his life that had him growing so soft.
it became a game, during dinner, to see how much he could put away. bets were thrown out on how many plates he could finish, drunk family members cheering him on as he eagerly took the food handed to him, enjoying not only the delicious meal, but the feeling of love surrounding him.
when he finally caved, leaning back in his chair, his belly felt tight as a cord, skin stretched over the mass of food he had just crammed into his belly. his eyes fell shut as he listened to his family members cheer and discuss who won what bets, while he idly rubbed at his overly stuffed belly, mind drifting to wandering when dessert would be served.
look at you, baby. so full that you can’t even touch yourself, can you? i bet you wanted to, the whole time you were stuffing yourself, every time you took a bite you were craving the feeling of your hand on yourself. but you didn’t, did you? you probably wanted to wait until you physically couldn’t anymore, to test your own limits, right? which came first, the overwhelming need for release, or your belly being so full you couldn’t swallow another bite? how long did it take you to realize you were too full to even attempt to touch yourself, that any little movement would send an ache through your belly? did you enjoy the thought of being pinned to your seat, unable to touch yourself because of your own gluttony? let me take care of that, for you, im sure you’re just desperate for release at this point.
a feedee loving how fat they are, and flaunting that shit.
going out in public wearing their tightest clothes, absolutely reveling in the attention it gets them, from onlookers and their feeder alike.
their feeder, who practically worships the ground they walk on, ever doting on their feedee, making sure their hand is never without some form of drink, their other holding a snack, all on the way to pick up their next meal.
making sure to show off how their outfit clearly doesn’t fit, especially after a large meal, when their shirt has slid up over the swell of their round belly, their pants just barely containing it.
making exaggerated groans and complaining of discomfort so their feeder will rub their belly, even though they’re still in view of the public, neither of them care, too focused on how to best make room for more food in their gut.
oh how i’d love to have you splayed out in my lap, rutting against my lap, your overfed and overstuffed belly round and taut, sloshing at the jostle your movements cause. i’d keep you there, begging for release until you’re whining and almost incoherent, arousal spun so tightly in your gut that any little touch could send you spiraling over the edge. when you’re just about to sob out of pure pleasure-pain, i’d let my hands fall to your belly, rubbing down the sides of it, caressing the soft underside, just a hairsbreadth from where you really want me to touch. your hips would thrust again against my thigh, pushing your aching belly further into my hands. you look so beautiful like this, a work of art. if i could keep you like this all the time, overfull and drooling with the haziness of your arousal, i would.
