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alternative-ffa · 29 days

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Pleasing The Rich - Part Three

Part One: https://www.tumblr.com/alternative-ffa/746390688068976640/pleasing-the-rich-part-one-nsfw-a-loud-belch?source=share

Part Two: https://www.tumblr.com/alternative-ffa/746658208075087873/alternative-ffa?source=share

Eliza awoke the next morning; her head pounding, and regret filling her mind. She noticed she was in an unfamiliar bed, but she figured it was her own room until she looked to her left. Sleeping soundly next to her was Herbert. She gripped the sheets with terror. Wanting to escape without him noticing, she gently began to slide herself away from him to the edge of the mattress. She placed her feet on the floor and sat up. The motion of the mattress began to alert Herbert, who reached towards where she had been on the bed. When he didn't feel her there, he awoke with a start. His head turned towards her, encumbered with the fat of his neck and chest. He spoke, "Wait."

She stood and turned around to face him. She was still wearing the basics of the dress she had on the night before, which reassured her that nothing sexual had happened. She still wanted to run from the room, but his facial expression caused her to stay. For the first time, he looked worried and depressed. Still groggy, he said, his voice warbling, "Please. Don't leave me."

This was far from the authoritarian personality she was dealing with the day before. For a second, she felt sympathy. Then she recalled his sexual feeding that she was forced to endure the previous day, and the sympathy abated. Standing next to the bed, she came up with an excuse, "I need to go to my bedroom to take my morning medicine."

He looked disappointed, but nodded and said, "I understand. Can you come back to me later today?"

Him asking a question instead of barking an order took her off guard. She didn't want to say yes, but felt it was easier to agree and escape his presence than remaining there and being ordered to do only God knows what to him. So she agreed to return later in the day as she backed away from him and out of his bed chamber.

As she walked away, she ran into Simon, who was pushing a tray filled with breakfast foods towards Herbert's room. She paused and asked, "Should I be following you to feed him?"

Simon replied, "Oh no. Not this time. But I'm sure you will be called upon later in the day."

She was relieved; then continued her walk to her own bedroom. She arrived and closed the door behind her, letting out a sigh of relief. She tried to recall the previous night. Concentrating hard, she remembered the dinner and drinks. She remembered most of the conversation, then things began to blur... there was a dessert... Herbert gluttonously consumed it... the walk beside his wheelchair as they both went to his bedroom...

But that is where things went blank. How she woke up in his bed beside him was still a mystery to her. She shook her head in disappointment, almost chastising herself for the amount she must have drank to end up in bed with him. She acknowledged that she couldn't change the past, then went to shower.

By this point, Simon had entered Herbert's room with the tray of food. He placed it by his bedside, then locked the wheels of the tray. Herbert remained laying flat on the bed and grunted through the fat surrounding his face for Simon to use the winch to lift him into a sitting position. Simon grabbed the four hanging tethers, made from the same fabric as seatbelts, and attached them with hooks to each of the four corners of a industrial pad on top of the mattress, but beneath Herbert. The whir of the winch, lifting the upper part of his body, echoed against the walls. It clicked into place once he was at the right angle. His fat arm reached out towards the tray and grabbed a plate. He placed it on his belly and began to aggressively eat. Simon spoke, "Are you all set?"

Herbert responded, with dribbles of food escaping his lips and flowing down his chins, "Yes, thank you."

Simon turned to leave, then Herbert asked, "Could you return... maybe in a few hours? I'd like to shower and get dressed before I see Eliza again."

Simon nodded and said, "of course, I'll return at 1pm."

Then he left the room.

Herbert remained. His head pounded from the drinks of the previous night. Even he had a hard time remembering what had happened that caused a beautiful woman to end up in bed next to him. Did he order her to stay in his bed? He didn't put it past himself to do such a thing, but hoped he hadn't. All of these thoughts were going through his mind as he devoured the food next to him.

The tray finished quicker than he would have liked, so he called down to the kitchen for more. He felt that he had enough time before his shower to consume more food.

A few hours passed, and he lay in the bed still hoisted into a sitting position by the winch above him. He was almost delirious with how full his belly was, and he tried to reach down to rub it himself... unsuccessfully. He knew Simon would be in shortly to help him shower, so he avoided the temptation to bring Eliza back in to massage his fat. He could wait.

Simon arrived a few minutes later. Approaching Herbert, he asked, "Are you still up for a shower?"

Herbert nodded and let out a loud, wet belch that echoed throughout the large room. Simon ignored it, since it was a common occurrence, and used the winch again to raise him up enough for him to swing his huge thick legs over the side of the bed. Simon handed him his custom walker, and Herbert struggled to lift himself into a standing position. He began to waddle towards the custom bathroom and huge shower stall. He was still wearing the button down shirt from the previous night, so once he had sat on the shower bench, Simon began to unbutton the shirt, releasing the huge fat belly that was contained within. Once Herbert was naked, the shower heads were turned on. He liked the water as hot as he could stand it, so Simon increased the heat in small intervals until it was the perfect temperature for him. A second servant had arrived, and the two of them took turns lifting his fat and cleaning between the exposed rolls of flesh. Once he was clean, they applied talcum powder between the rolls, and lotion on his extremities. Considering his extreme obesity, he was well taken care of. Most men his size would be covered in bed sores with yeast infections between the rolls of fat that never got fresh air. But Herbert was royality, and he received every benefit his title would allow.

The unnamed servant left; leaving just Simon and Herbert. Simon had gotten a black, micro pinstripe, button down shirt for him, along with a matching black cravat. Pants were not necessary, as Herbert was to remain in his bed. Dressing him took more time than one would think, but once he was, he was returned to his bed.

At this point it was mid-afternoon. Simon asked, "Should I have Eliza come in to you?"

Herbert gulped, displaying slight nervousness - a far cry from his aggressive authoritarian personality. Then he asked, "Do you know anything about last night?"

Simon wasn't sure how to answer, but said, "I know you two had dinner, then she accompanied you to your bedroom."

Herbert nodded and said, "that's all I can remember... I woke up and she was beside me. It was wonderful, but she left so quickly this morning..."

Simon replied, "I wouldn't know what happened once you two had entered your bedroom. I'm sorry, sir."

Herbert acknowledged the answer, then said, "I'm having more food brought up for my 3pm meal... have her meet me up here for that."

Simon nodded and said, "I'll be sure to do that."

Then he was waved away, and left the bedroom.

Herbert lay alone in his bed. Checking the clock, he saw that he had an hour by himself before Eliza and more food arrived. He spent this time trying to remember the details of the previous night. But, just like Eliza, he couldn't recall much. His lack of recall caused anxiety... what if he had asked too much of her and he'd never see her again? He almost called off the order he gave Simon, but he had enjoyed the sexual attention he had experienced the previous day and was hoping for a repeat.

He thought that getting to know Eliza was a mistake. She was hired solely to worship (or, pretend to worship) his fat body, and he knew she didn't enjoy it. Getting to know her as a person created sympathy, and he felt that he wouldn't be comfortable ordering her to do what she was hired to do. His aggressiveness towards making her provide him with physical attention was going to be more difficult with his newfound empathy.

The clock chimed. It was 3pm. The door buzzed and Herbert pressed the button to open it. Ten seconds later, Eliza entered rolling a tray of food towards his bedside. He felt his cock pulse beneath his fat, and he knew he was looking forward to another feeding. He tried to contain his excitement in order to ease the anxiety he assumed she had to be experiencing. She arrived at his bedside and locked the wheels of the tray beside her. No words were exchanged as she sat and grabbed a plate of food. She filled a forkful of chicken and gravy and guided it to his mouth. He gratefully accepted it, despite still feeling full from earlier in the day. She had another forkful ready, but he lifted his fat hand to instruct her to pause. Then he spoke, "I... I was wondering if you recall last night."

She put the fork down and said, "I recall dinner and escorting you to your bedroom; but after that... nothing."

He sighed and said, "That's all I remember as well. I know you stayed the night with me, but I can't recall why."

She felt a bit of relief knowing that the night before, he was just as intoxicated as her, and neither of them could remember.

Herbert looked down at himself, his hands reached towards the fat of his belly. He gently lifted it, then dropped it back down sending ripples across his fat. He let out a quiet whisper of pleasure. Eliza still sat next to him with the plate of food ready. Then he said, "Go ahead. Continue to feed me."

The authority came back into his voice and she obeyed. It really only took her the one day to get used to what he wanted out of her. She prepared the fork with as much food as it could hold and guided it into his wide and accepting mouth. This continued until all the plates on the tray were empty.

Then Herbert made a noise she hadn't heard before. She couldn't describe it, but it sounded like he was forcing out a burp with no success. This continued a few times, then he said, "There should be cans of ginger ale over by the bar in the bedroom parlor. Bring me one."

She stood and went into the parlor, grabbing the can of ginger ale. Once he had it, he began to gulp it down. The can left his fat lips and an unusually loud and long belch erupted from him. He looked relieved and his free hand reached down to his belly and he began to rub it. Then he stopped suddenly and said, "Come, Eliza, rub me... jiggle me..."

She nodded and began to explore his fat. She felt more confident this time, since she had discovered that it was easier to think of his morbidly obese body as a learning experience than a disgusting task that she had to get through. She recalled the two sensitive spots that had brought him to orgasm the previous day, and she went straight for them. One hand jiggled the fat around his crotch, while the other found the spot inside his bellybutton. He moaned with arousal, then grabbed her hand down by his penis and pulled it away. She was surprised until he said, "That's the dessert... rub my belly first. Help me to digest."

She was hoping that going right to his penis would hasten the physical requirement of rubbing and jiggling him; but he caught on and was not going to sacrifice his belly rubs just for a quick orgasm.

His authoritarian personality had come out and he barked orders at her: rub me here, run your fingers perpendicular to my stretch marks, grab my breasts... tell me how fat I am...

She fulfilled the physical requests, but still felt uncomfortable teasing him about his weight. She didn't know how to say, "You're getting huge, you're so fat..." without it coming off as a negative remark.

Her belly rubbing skills had increased, she knew where to lift the fat and jiggle it, versus where to tease his sensitive stretch marks between his rolls.

The belly worship continued and he whispered another order, "Play with my nipples."

She had to stretch her arm to its longest length just to reach his hard accepting nipples. She pinched them, rubbed her hands across them, and then found herself rubbing his chest hair. He groaned and said, "Yes! Rub me there."

She continued. It was hard to decide how long she should keep her attention on each body part. He liked his chest rubbed: should she stay there until ordered to rub another part of him? She decided to improvise and spend only a few minutes each on the body parts he enjoyed being touched. He continued to moan in pleasure with his eyes shut. She reached down again to his crotch. He felt her difficulty reaching down under the apron of fat that hid his penis from view, so he lifted his belly up as much as he could. Another quiet order came from his lips, "Yes, give me my dessert."

She knew he wasn't referring to food, and this was his permission to finish him. She had noticed how sensitive his nipples were and initially tried to give attention to both areas. But he was too fat. Her arms weren't long enough to play with his nipples and his penis at the same time. So she switched her hand to the sensitive spot in his bellybutton. Following the same procedure as the previous day, her finger teased his bellybutton while her other hand dug deep into the fat of his crotch. It was almost like digging for treasure. He was hard as a rock, so finding his manhood was easy. It was the only hard area on his soft fat body. She jiggled the fat and played with the small part of his penis that was exposed. His breathing increased in speed; she knew he was getting close. Then, at the same time that she felt his cock pulsing with pleasure and cum covering her hand, he let out a wet belch.

"Oh, God, yes!" He almost screamed.

She had stepped away at this point, cleaning her hand with a napkin. He tried to catch his breath and then said in delirium, "You're too good to be true! I've never had an orgasm and a burp at the same time. Such a pleasure!"

She felt the familiar disgust, but noticed it wasn't as pronounced as the previous day. She realized that she was getting used to this - a little too quickly for her liking.

Herbert came back to his senses and said, "You may leave now. I'll call Simon to clean me up."

She nodded and left his bed chamber.

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory #ffa ssbhm #fat fetish #fetish story #female feeder #feedee #feeder #feeding

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alternative-ffa · 29 days

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Pleasing The Rich - Part Two

Part One here:

She didn't really want to explore the palace just yet, so she retreated to her bedroom. She was planning on putting her clothes away into the drawers and other tasks as she made this room her home, but found that her suitcases were already empty. Opening the closet, she saw the clothes she brought placed in drawers, but also many new custom dresses hung there as well. Initially she thought these must have been the clothes of whoever had her job before her. Then she noticed that they were all new, and exactly her size.

A knock on her door distracted her. She opened it to see Simon standing there and she invited him in. Before he had a chance to ask her about her experience with Herbert, she motioned to the closet and asked, "the dresses... are those for me?"

Simon smiled and said, "oh yes, His Highness wanted to gift you a new wardrobe. How about you try one on to wear when you have to continue his feeding in a few hours?"

She asked, "is it an option, or an order?"

Simon blushed, "more of a combination. Herbert chose the dresses, so I'm sure he would be pleased to see you in one, but it's not a requirement... just a strong suggestion."

Eliza nodded, realizing it essentially was a requirement despite what Simon said.

A call came through on the cell phone that Simon had on his belt. He answered it and walked away from Eliza. She heard his responses, but not who was on the other line. The call was quick and he returned to her side. "That was a dinner invitation for you. Herbert is going to forgo his 3pm meal. He would like you to join him for dinner in the dining room at 6pm."

She hoped that this meal would be more friendly than the feeding she did with him earlier. Simon seemed to pick up on her discomfort and said, "It will be quite formal, so I recommend you wear one of the new dresses. As I said, his Highness would like that."

She agreed and Simon left the room for her to change.

Looking into the closet, she pulled out a few dresses. One caught her eye more than the others: a deep burgandy silk fabric overlaid with a see-through black lace mesh. She placed it up in front of her and looked in the mirror. It was much fancier than what she was used to, almost as if she was taken back in time by a century. But she put it on and was pleased with her appearance. She still had a few hours until dinner at 6pm, so she decided to explore the expansive palace. She quietly opened the door to the hallway and poked her head out. Once she knew she was alone, she stepped out and took a left, knowing this would lead her to places she hadn't seen before. Her heels clicked across the wooden floor of the hallway. Reaching a turn, she went right. It lead to another hallway with large windows on one side. The light streaming through the windows lit up many portraits on the walls. She paused here to look at the paintings. The gold plaques below the images had names of previous Kings and the years they were in power. Many of them were quite obese, which didn't surprise her. As she walked down the hall, she noticed the dates were getting closer to modernity. The last portrait was what got her attention. The gold plaque said "King Herbert IV: 1998 - ____".

But the painting was not the man she had just met. Or, at least, it did not look like him. He stood, dressed in a filigree military uniform, fit and thin. His defined cheek bones and jawline were what added to his attractiveness. His wavy auburn hair fell mostly to the left of his face and framed his gorgeous hazel eyes. She couldn't walk away from it, and just stared. There was no way this was the extremely obese man she just fed and rubbed to completion - but the plaque said it was. She made a mental note to ask about this during dinner... assuming the right window came up in conversation.

She checked her watch, it was 5:30. She was surprised at how much time she had spent looking at the portraits. Knowing she had to start making her way to the main rooms of the palace, she turned around and tried to navigate back to her bedroom. Despite it being only a few turns down various hallways, she was careful. She didn't want to get lost, and she certainly didn't want to be late. Finally making it to the landing above the foyer, she felt relief knowing she was going to be on time. There was a large elevator at the top of the double staircase, but she was well aware why it was there, so she took the stairs. A new face happened to be walking through the foyer, and he noticed her. Stopping short, he looked up and smiled. She could tell he was related to Herbert, but only due to the thin portrait of him that she had discovered earlier. She got to the bottom of the stairs and he approached with his hand out for a handshake. Taking her hand in his, he bowed gently and kissed it, then with a deep voice, like his brother, said, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Freddy, Herbert's brother. You must be Eliza."

She smiled at what a gentleman he was, and nodded to answer his question, still not speaking yet. He motioned to a set of double doors to the left of the staircase and said, "I know you're meeting Herbert in the dining room at 6. In the meantime, would you like a drink?"

She felt relieved and said, "actually, that would be great."

Freddy smiled and presented her with the crux of his arm. She placed her arm around his and he guided her to the parlor. If she thought Herbert's bed chamber was excessively decorated, this room put his bed chamber to shame. It was covered in gold leaf, highlighting the same cherry wood that made up the interior rooms of the palace. A seven foot tall black marble fireplace lit up a small section of this expansive space. The flue was a large lions head, held up by chains: certainly a piece of art in and of itself. The sun was setting, so she could still see what looked like a large patio through the windows opposite the fireplace. A forest of fir trees lit up in orange in front of the sunset. Freddy called her over towards a full bar, enhanced by mirrors and the same gold leaf that accentuated the room. She diverted her attention towards the bar.

Freddy was relatively thin; at least compared to Herbert. But his belly stuck out in front of him, very round and pronounced. He made his way around the back of the bar and his belly hit the shelf holding the crystal glasses. They tinkled against each other and he quickly reached out to keep them from toppling. He blushed slightly, placed his hands on his protruding stomach and said, "I'm still getting used to this." With no further explanation.

He grabbed two glasses and brought out a bottle of Champagne. Before opening it, he glanced at the large grandfather clock against the wall. It read 5:45, then he said, "Well, I suppose it's enough time for a quick drink."

Eliza smiled. His mannerisms were gentle and kind; not nearly as authoritarian as his brother. He popped the cork from the bottle and filled two champagne flutes. Handing one to her, he lifted his own, and they clinked glasses. He toasted, "to new friends".

She smiled and took a sip. She had never had real Champagne before, and couldn't even guess at the cost of the bottle he opened, but it was delicious. The clock began to chime. It was 6 o'clock. Freddy placed his glass down and squeezed out from behind the bar. She began to place her glass down, but he stopped her and said, "you can bring it into the dining room."

So she held onto it. Given the afternoon she had with Herbert, she felt that alcohol might help with comforting her anxiety, so she was glad to keep the glass. Freddy gave her his arm again, and they both walked back into the foyer. Freddy led her a few rooms over to a candle lit dining room. The table itself must have been 20 feet long, but the place setting was for two: one at the head of the table, and one to the side. The candles provided enough light, but Freddy reached towards a dimmer switch on the wall and increased the lighting. Suddenly the opposite doors opened. Eliza heard the whir of something mechanical, then Herbert came into view. He was in his electric wheelchair, but dressed as a King should: a full suit, black cravat, and a diamond ring in the shape of a lions head. She didn't notice the ring when she was dealing with him earlier, so she figured this must be a piece of jewelry for special occasions.

He rolled his chair into position at the head of the table. Freddy was still present, and Herbert motioned towards the chair next to him. "Come, Eliza, sit." He said.

Freddy nodded towards her to obey, and then said, "Have a good dinner, I'm sure I'll see you soon."

Then he left the room, closing the large door behind him.

Eliza sat in the chair next to Herbert. He seemed more subdued than he was earlier. She still hadn't spoken, and Herbert said, "I realize my actions earlier today were unusual. I would like us to take this time to get to know one another."

She was quite surprised, as this didn't seem like the man she had dealings with earlier in the day. Before she could reply, a servant arrived to take their drink order. Eliza finished her glass of champagne and requested a martini. Herbert requested a double shot of whiskey with one ice cube. The servant nodded and went to make their drinks. Herbert looked Eliza up and down and smirked. He said, "the dress looks wonderful on you. Quite tempting."

He licked his fat lips and she felt the discomfort from earlier. Not wanting silence, she said, "thank you for the generosity of the new wardrobe; the pieces are quite beautiful."

"Only the best for you, my dear." He replied, with a little too familiar of an air for comfort.

The doors opened again. One servant came with the drinks on a silver tray. Then five more followed with rolling trays filled with food. Eliza's eyes widened when she realized that she would have to watch another gluttonous display. But she quickly fixed her expression, not wanting to offend the King. He noticed, and said almost teasingly, "you will get used to my appetite."

She didn't know how to react, so she stayed stoic. The large serving plates were placed in front of them both: a honey ham, a turkey, trays of vegetables, potatoes, and rice. It was enough food to probably satisfy the whole palace of people, but it was made for one man's extreme gluttony. Herbert immediately began to fill his plate. She sat and watched, not having much of an appetite. Once his plate was full, he said, "Go ahead, eat. I won't make you feed me this time."

She hesitantly scooped a small serving of food on her own plate. But she was not hungry, so she nibbled a little and concentrated on consuming her drink. Herbert had dived in at this point: huge forkfuls of food were stuffed into his mouth. She heard the familiar groan of pleasure as he ate and it did nothing to ease her anxiety. He noticed and tried to relieve her fear. "Nothing is expected of you tonight. I just want to get to know you."

She took another big sip of her drink and said, "what would you like to know?"

He replied, "anything. Your interests, your family, your life. Tell me how you ended up here."

She cleared her throat and said, "I saw the advertisement. Another servant needed for the King... you. I loved the idea of working at the palace, so that's why I'm here."

"And?" He asked.

"And... I saw the rate of pay and thought it was too good to pass up."

He burped, then as he refilled his plate, said comically, "Ah, so the money, then?"

She felt rude having brought it up, and said, "Well, not entirely..."

He grinned and said, "I'm just being playful, of course this job needed a high rate of pay. What I'm asking of you in this position isn't exactly a normal request."

She didn't want to agree with him, but he was right. He dove into his second plate of food, while she had still barely touched her plate. A servant entered to refill the drinks. She gulped down the last of the martini and requested a second. Herbert grunted with his mouth full and his glass held up. The servant knew this meant he wanted another as well.

Herbert continued to shovel food in his mouth. She watched him and her mind went to the portrait she had found earlier in the day. Normally she wouldn't have brought it up, but the liquor provided courage, so she said, "I was exploring the palace earlier... there was a hallway, well lit up by windows... I saw a portrait of you."

He put down his fork and said, "I figured you would have run into that. Goes to show that I wasn't always this obese."

He reached down and jiggled the fat of his belly which was squeezed into the suit jacket he wore, as if to emphasize his previous statement. Then he continued, "Us Leonhart's tend to gain quite a bit of weight... it just runs in the family. I'm sure you noticed that as well in the other portraits down that hallway."

She nodded, "I did. Which was why your portrait was so surprising. I had to read the plaque twice to verify that it was really you."

He chuckled, then began to refill his plate for the third time. The second round of drinks were brought in, and Eliza thanked the servant. Herbert just grunted in acknowledgement.

Hours passed. Plate after plate of food was consumed, with wet belches from deep within his fat body coming out every few minutes. The time passed quickly and was almost blurred by the drunkenness of them both.

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory #morbidlyobese #morbidly obese #fat men are sexy

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alternative-ffa · 1 month

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Pleasing The Rich - Part One

NSFW

A loud belch echoed against the deep cherry wood walls of the bed chamber. Herbert was finishing up his fourth meal of the day and it wasn't even noon yet. His body filled out most of the King sized bed he lay trapped in, but he enjoyed that fact. He loved being as fat as possible and had recently discovered that he wasn't the only one who felt that way about their size. He had dived into various forums and websites filled with people who enjoyed being fat. This was probably how he got the idea to hire another servant who's job was solely to concentrate on his weight. He always had his food delivered to his bedside, but he wanted more. He wanted to be fed, he wanted his belly rubbed and jiggled by someone who also enjoyed it. But, Herbert didn't need someone who really enjoyed it; he needed someone who could at least pretend to enjoy it.

As a straight man, knowing that this physical attention would arouse him, he insisted on hiring a woman. She had arrived at the palace and was immediately put to work. A fifth serving of food was being prepared for Herbert, and the young woman was escorted into the kitchen. Simon, the servant charged with explaining the details of her unusual job, walked her through the busy kitchen and introduced her to the chefs. He said, "You will be working closely with them as well."

She nodded and took mental notes. The kitchen staff had filled the rolling tray with Herbert's 5th meal of the day, and Simon explained, "We'll bring this up to him, and on the way, I'll explain what is expected of you."

He began to roll the tray out of the kitchen and as they walked to Herbert's room, Simon explained, "His highness is quite a large man. He enjoys the finer things in life. And most recently, he has discovered a pleasure that he didn't know was there."

The young woman, Eliza, nodded, knowing this was just the beginning of what would be an unusual request. Simon continued, "He has an unusual gluttonous appetite. He spends most of his day eating..."

Simon gestured to the tray of food he was rolling towards the bedroom, "This is his 5th serving so far today."

Eliza let out an audible noise of surprise, and Simon continued, "to be blunt, you have been hired to feed him, and massage his fat. Apparently the idea has aroused a pleasure in him that he would like to try."

She took a deep breath and nodded. Simon spoke again, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

She thought for a second and replied, "I am up for trying."

With a kind smile, Simon said, "And that's all we can ask of you."

They got to the door of Herbert's bed chamber. Simon pressed an intercom button outside the doors and a few seconds later they both opened electronically. He rolled the tray into the parlor portion of the bedroom, then pointed to another set of doors and said, "that is his highness' bedroom."

Pressing another button, the second set of doors opened. This room was excessively decorated. The walls were made of a dark cherry wood that was native to the region, and many old portraits adorned them. The floors were a black marble, which matched the black curtains of Herbert's canopy bed. Eliza couldn't see him yet, as the curtain by his feet was pulled across the bed, hiding him from view. He had heard them enter though. A deep voice spoke through the curtain, "Is that my new hire?"

Simon nodded towards Eliza, encouraging her to speak. She swallowed her nervousness and said, "Yes."

Herbert replied, "Wonderful, come closer, let me see you."

Simon escorted her to the side of the bed and she saw the size of the man she would be feeding. She stumbled back a few steps. Herbert spoke, "no need to be shy."

She smirked slightly and replied, "I'm sorry; this is new to me."

The fat man grinned knowingly and said, "there might be quite a few new experiences for you with this job."

This did not comfort her in any way. Simon used the pause to roll the tray next to the bed. He pulled up a chair and motioned for Eliza to sit. Herbert then said, "thank you Simon, that's all we'll need from you."

He bowed before making his exit. He glimpsed at Eliza in an attempt to comfort her before leaving. Once the door was closed, Herbert reached towards the tray and said, "Grab a plate and feed me."

It was an order, not a request. So Eliza grabbed a plate, put it in her lap, and began by filling a fork with food. To her it looked like a big bite, but Herbert seemed disappointed. He swallowed the bite in one go and said, "don't be afraid to fill the fork. I promise you, I can fit much more than you think in my mouth."

The statement disgusted her. She prepared another fork full, and tried to disassociate as she presented it to his mouth. He opened wide and chewed this time; so she knew this forkful was more what he was looking for than the last one.

"Again." He said, with authority.

Another forkful was fed into his wide accepting mouth. He swallowed quickly and ordered, "I always want a bite ready. Feed me one, and have the next one ready to go. Even if I'm still chewing, force it into me."

At this point she was questioning why she took this job. The pay was extremely good, but was it worth the disgust and nausea she felt?

It didn't take long for him to finish what was on the tray. But she felt relief once the food was gone. She got ready to stand as if her job was done. Herbert chuckled with a hint of maliciousness, then said matter-of-factly, "You're not done. I need my belly massaged."

She looked frightened. He spoke again, "I want you to rub all my fat. Grab it, jiggle it, tell me how fat I'm getting."

She wanted to run from the room. Then she decided that she needed the money, so she hesitantly reached towards the fat of his belly. It fell down to his knees and she wasn't sure how she was going to actually massage it. In order to reach all of his fat, she would have to get closer to him. She didn't want to, so she hesitated. He became frustrated. No one disobeyed him. His voice raised as he commanded, "This is the only point to you. I command you to enjoy my fat. I don't care if you need to pretend. This is your job."

She took a deep breath and then reached out towards his belly. Sitting in a chair next to the bed didn't allow her to reach much. He commanded her again, "stand up. You know what I want. Don't hesitate, do it."

She stood. Standing next to his bed, with the side of his belly pushing against her, she reached over him. She had never felt fat like this before. Hundreds of pounds of fat covered his frame. To massage all of it seemed like an impossible task, but she needed the money and tried to do her job. Even standing, she couldn't reach his whole belly. She leaned over him, feeling the hard fat of his full stomach pushing her away. His fat hands reached down to his belly and he began to rub it. One of his hands grabbed hers and forced it towards his belly button. He instructed her, "put your finger deep into my bellybutton, you'll feel a small indent, I want you to play with that."

She wasn't sure what the point was, but when she had hit the spot he directed her to, he began to moan with pleasure. "Yes, that's it... now jiggle me. Grab as much of the fat as you can... use both your arms... yes... that's it..."

His eyes closed and he continued to moan. She wasn't experienced in this and his obvious pleasure towards it disgusted her. She paused for a second and his eyes shot open. He spoke again as he rubbed his fat, "I need you to pretend you enjoy it. Tell me how sexy my fat is..."

Her breath shuddered. She certainly was not going to tell him his morbid obesity was attractive. Wanting to run from the room, she knew that she shouldn't, so she reached back out again and grabbed as much fat as her hands could, lifting it and shaking it, he began to moan with pleasure again. "Yes..." He whispered, "keep going. Slap my belly..."

She did as she was told. Her handprint left a mark on his fat and he reached down to rub it. She initially thought that she might have slapped him too hard, but his facial expression said otherwise. Moaning, he ordered, "Again. Slap me, jiggle me."

She continued to obey him, but she wasn't sure when it would be over. She grabbed one of his side rolls and began to explore it; gently teasing the stretch marks with her long slender fingers. If she thought of this exercise as an exploratory one rather than a sexual one, her anxiety abated. She had never felt fat like this before. It was soft and extremely heavy. Just lifting the roll of fat that made up his breast caused her muscles to strain. She could only imagine what it was like for Herbert: being constantly surrounded by this weight, trapping him in his bed. She jolted out of her reverie when Herbert noticed that her attention was no longer directed entirely at him. His authoritarian voice raised as he said, "I'm not paying you to dream."

She apologized and said, "I'm sorry, I'm still trying to figure this out."

His voice calmed and said, "I suppose it will take practice... So, keep practicing."

She nodded and returned her attention to his belly fat. It was getting difficult to continue to stand and lean over him, so she sat beside him on the bed. He didn't expect this, but it pleased him. His fat hands were still rubbing the areas she couldn't reach. He spoke again, "now, lift my belly as much as you can."

She tried. Using both hands and arms, she squeezed her limbs underneath the apron of fat and tried to lift it. There was not much progress. Herbert groaned in annoyance and said, "You'll need to build up more strength."

She was about to lay the fat back down and he stopped her. "No, let me lift it."

He did; then, with his fat breasts pushed up to his chins, he said, "The pad of fat under my belly... between my legs... jiggle that."

She found the body part he was speaking about and began to jiggle it, hoping that he wouldn't drop his belly on top of her hands. His moaning became more audible and she noticed as he shivered a few times with pleasure. She wasn't sure why this area was so sensitive, after all she had never seen a man his size, and really had no idea that his penis was surrounded by the fat she was currently playing with. "Oh God, yes, I'm so fat." He whispered to himself.

Then she felt his hardened manhood hidden underneath the fat and realized that she was essentially jacking him off. She felt ashamed for a second - was this what her life was? Jiggling the fat around his crotch to lead him to orgasm? His authoritarian personality caused her to continue with her work. Perhaps if she successfully finished him, this ordeal would be over... at least for now. So she tried harder. One hand reached down into the fat and found his penis, she jiggled the fat pad as the tips of her fingers teased the head of it. Her other hand jiggled the belly he was holding up, being careful to place her finger deep into his bellybutton to find the spot that caused him arousal a few minutes previous. With both sensitive spots covered, she dove into pleasuring him. His breath became short and staggered as if the pleasure was too much for him. But she continued. To her surprise, it didn't take long until he was shaking with an orgasm. She felt the wet thick fluid on her hand and jolted away from him. He didn't seem to care as he was too aroused. "Oh, yes..." He said. Pausing to catch his breath, he continued, "You did much better than expected. Especially for your first time here."

She nodded uncomfortably, then said without emotion, "I'm glad."

He replied, "I will call Simon in to clean me up. Feel free to spend the next few hours exploring the palace. But I will need you back here for my 6th meal around 3:00pm."

Nodding again, she turned around and left his bedroom.

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alternative-ffa · 1 month

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Struggled through the horror of this book... only to find a quote that (when removed from context) encapsulates the sexual attraction to extreme obesity versus societal norms.

I will be posting the first of at least four parts of a long story inspired by the libertine philosophy of the Marquis de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom... granted, it is much less extreme...

https://www.tumblr.com/alternative-ffa/746390688068976640/pleasing-the-rich-part-one-nsfw-a-loud-belch?source=share

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory

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alternative-ffa · 3 months

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I love watching you gorge yourself. Your extreme appetite always impresses me. I love providing you food, and it has to come through me as you remain trapped in your recliner. Some nights you are so full that you must remain there to sleep as you certainly can't walk yourself to the bedroom.

I watch you eat, belching every few minutes to make more room, and I tingle with desire. I know you're not capable of intercourse anymore, but that just adds to the excitement. You're eating yourself into immobility.

Your belly spills to your knees when you sit, and completely locks off access to your crotch. I don't mind. Arousal is mostly in the brain anyway, and I could pleasurably watch you eat for eternity.

You finished your last bite and groaned as you tried to lean back. Your belly is hard as a rock, but no matter how much you burp, there is no room to spare. Your white undershirt, stained with sauce and crumbs, isn't really washable. It was easier to throw it out. I would rather watch you consume all those calories shirtless anyway.

You moan again - probably to get my attention. I smile at you, my smirk is filled with mischievous intention. You love that smile, it means you did a good job with your dinner.

I stand. My hands reach out towards you and you grab them. I have to get you out of the recliner; so I place my small foot between your legs, under your belly, and use it as leverage as we both push and pull you into a standing position.

You sway slightly once standing, trying to adjust to your center of gravity. Another burp erupts.

I help you waddle to the bed. Your belly swings side to side and makes it hard to walk as it pushes back against your legs. It's really only a few steps to the bedroom, but it might as well be a mile long hike for you.

You sit on the side of the bed and groan again. You whisper, "oh God, I'm getting so fat."

I love hearing you admit that.

I fluff your pillows so you can lay down in a slightly upright position. I want you to digest easily, so laying flat on your back is not an option.

You're excited. When you can make the effort to get into bed, you know there's a reward for your gluttony. I climb atop you. It's almost impossible to mount you underneath your belly, and it's completely impossible to make contact with your penis. It's been hidden under the fat of your groin for years. Despite its impressive size, your fat is even more impressive, and your gender is only seen through a dimple in the fat of your crotch.

I peel the fat up and try to wiggle underneath your belly. Despite your impotence, I can still orgasm. I reach down to expose my clit and rest it on the fat between your legs. Thrusting back and forth, I feel the soft warm fat rubbing against me. You are too full to notice - living in the gluttonous pleasure of your reality. I continue, enjoying every sensation. My hands hold the tumultuous fat of your belly at bay. It's hard to concentrate on orgasming when I'm struggling to keep your belly fat from pushing me off of you. But eventually my mind wins out and a flood of orgasms almost cripple me.

My small body glistening with sweat, I roll off of you, and you grunt as your belly flops back down on your thighs. Another burp erupts, and I curl up next to you. I lift the fat of your breasts which spill to your side and snuggle up to you. I lift your fat belly as well, so I'm curled up as close as I can against you: feeling your weight push down on me. You slowly drift off to sleep as I gently jiggle your belly, like ripples in an ocean.

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory #death feederism #death feedist #fat fetish #obese belly #morbidly obese #obesity #female feeder #feedee #feeder

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alternative-ffa · 4 months

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Happy New Year!

I wrote 3 stories for the new year theme. This one won out. Enjoy!

The banquet hall at the palace was filled with guests on New Year's Eve. The raucous laughter and joy echoed off the deep cherry wood walls of the large room. The light from the crystal chandeliers made the room warm and inviting, despite the huge space. Everyone was socializing except for the prince, who sat in his bariatric wheelchair in the corner by one of the windows. His hand held a glass of whiskey, the fat of his fingers enveloping it and warming it quicker than he would like.

He didn't enjoy being around people, but being present at this event was a requirement. He disassociated as he looked out the window on to the large garden area with sparkling bulb lights filling the hedges and fountains. No one ever approached him during these events, and he wasn't sure if it was his title as Prince causing the intimidation or his extreme obesity. But he preferred the lack of socialization so he didn't care either way.

A server noticed his glass of whiskey was getting low, so they delivered another one and placed it on the small table by his side. He nodded in thanks and continued his reverie. Time began to pass again, without him noticing. His mind was so distant and the noise of the hall was so loud and chaotic, he didn't notice the young lady who approached him, despite the distinguishing sound of her heels clicking towards him against the marble floor. She stood next to him and cleared her throat. It was enough to finally get his attention. He seemed to jolt awake from a dream, then looked up at her in confusion. Her red lips curled into a smile and she said, "Hello, Your Highness." As she bowed her head in respect.

His strong Leondian accent was heavy in his deep voice as he said, "Hello."

She gestured to a chair next to the table his wheelchair was parked at. He extended his hand to welcome her to sit down, not sure why she was trying to socialize with him - no one else ever tried before, so he wasn't sure what she wanted from him. She sat and he looked at her suspiciously. She placed her drink on the table and said, "This is my first time here at the palace; your cousin Phineas invited me. I wanted to thank you for the party."

He grunted quietly and said, "We do this every year. I have to attend and it's not exactly fun for me."

She was surprised by his admission. It was probably the alcohol that made him brave enough to admit his annoyance at the forced socialization. She thought for a second, trying to find the right words to respond. Then she said, "You're royalty. I would think you wouldn't have to attend an event if you didn't want to."

He smirked for a moment and chuckled as he replied, "You'd think that... but I suppose it's my job to be at these events. The title is also a responsibility."

He looked down at himself. His belly was tucked into his black button down shirt, but it still filled up his lap. His free hand cupped the fat of the side of his stomach and he continued, "I'm sure I'd enjoy these events more if I wasn't so restricted by my size."

Her eyebrows furrowed in sympathetic concern, but she didn't want to force the subject, so she changed the topic by looking at her watch and saying, "Well, we have less than an hour until midnight, so I assume you won't have to stay here too much longer."

He smiled and said, "Yes, I've been counting down until midnight - but moreso in anticipation of being able to return to my bed, rather than excitement for the new year."

She asked, "Do you mind if I keep you company? Or do you prefer your solitude?"

He thought for a second, then to his own surprise, said, "You can stay."

"Thank you." She replied.

He placed his empty whisky glass on the table and grabbed a new one the server had dropped off a few minutes before. Taking a big gulp, he questioned her presence again, "You know, people don't usually talk to me. Dare I ask why YOU are?"

She answered, "I'm not from Leondia. In fact, this is my first time visiting the country. And since I know your cousin, I figured I'd introduce myself."

He nodded, accepting the answer.

The hour passed quickly as the two of them spoke. They covered various political topics, hobbies, and interests. A few more drinks were consumed, and the two of them seemed to be in their own little world, despite being surrounded by hundreds of party goers. Suddenly they heard everyone shouting down the seconds to the new year. TEN... NINE...

She stared into his eyes, with gentle interest.

EIGHT... SEVEN...

He looked back at her, taking in her beauty that he was trying to ignore the last hour.

SIX... FIVE...

She took his hand in hers, surprised by the softness of the fat enveloping them.

FOUR... THREE...

They both placed their drinks on the table.

TWO... ONE...!

She leaned over his belly, planting her lips on his. She could feel the girth of his body almost pushing her away. The kiss filled them both with a desire neither knew they had.

The room erupted in joyful celebration as the balloons and confetti attached to the ceiling released upon the guests. They unlocked their lips and he stared at her in pleasurable surprise.

Phineas approached, given that she was his guest. He looked disturbed that she was sitting with the Prince. He grabbed her hand and said, "come on, let's dance."

Trying to encourage her to leave the Prince's side. She stood and looked back at the gigantic man she had opened the new year with. He seemed disappointed that she was leaving. But before she walked away, she asked, "Could I see you again?"

The Prince smiled, the dimples in his fat cheeks appearing. He replied, "I would like that."

They both smiled at each other as Phineas pulled her away towards the rest of the party.

The Prince motioned a servant over and whispered, "I'd like to leave now, please."

They unlocked the wheels of his chair and rolled him away from the party to the elevator, and eventually into his bed chamber.

After being undressed and helped into his bed, the servant left. He lay there with a new sexual desire he had never felt before. He could hear the party through his windows, but was relieved he was alone. He felt a stirring between his legs, and his instinct led his hand underneath the fat of his belly. He struggled to reach his throbbing manhood, grunting in effort to satisfy himself, but unable to reach. A scream of annoyance escaped his lips. He tried to roll himself as much as he could, with his belly spilling to the side. The pad of fat surrounding his penis prevented any contact. His frustration erupted into anger and he grabbed a glass next to his bed. Another primal scream erupted from him as he threw the glass against the wall. It shattered against the wood and tears fell down his face. Knowing sleep was his only option, he cried until unconsciousness finally released him from his misery. His dreams were filled with the beautiful young woman from the party, and he finally cummed with the fantasy of her riding him - grabbing his belly for leverage, teasing his stretch marks with her long nails. But he wouldn't realize until he awoke, with the disappointing reality of being unable to even clean himself.

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory #fat man

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alternative-ffa · 5 months

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Another voting opportunity!

Story #1: A library encounter. A woman deep in the least popular part of the university library, suddenly having to prevent a shelf from falling... given the large man on the other side of the bookshelves, shifting, and his thick rear end bumping the shelf. They get to know each other... things happen.

Story #2: A real life experience, exaggerated by the fetish. A want-to-be feedee ordering groceries, daring his wife to feed him. She had always been sneaky with his food consumption and he never noticed, despite getting heavier and heavier. Involves funnel feeding.

Story #3: A prisoner; his weight accidentally causing a death. Being immobile, and navigating the prison system. An unfortunate night causing his current situation, and a small female lawyer finding an unknown desire in this huge man.

Story #4: A female customer service representative for a security company finds joy in viewing the video feed of a morbidly obese man. Drama ensues and she finds a way to meet him in person.

Let me know which one I should invest more time in and post first!

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory

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alternative-ffa · 5 months

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NSFW

You're unrecognizable. A circus side show freak. Trapped in your bed, unable to roll yourself over, completely dependent on social services to clean you and bring you food.

It was a life that would be miserable for most, but you love it. You couldn't keep your hands off of yourself; lifting the heavy fat of your belly and dropping it back down to feel the fat ripple and jiggle back into place with gravity.

Everything about your life made you hard; the inability to move, the sponge baths by people who were disgusted by you, the food delivered to your bedside... it was all arousing.

The one thing that caused slight disappointment was being unable to reach your dick. You'd always try - rolling as far as you could on your side to get your hand under your belly fat. But the blubber of your groin surrounded your manhood and it was just impossible. The best you could do was jiggle yourself: the moving soft fat of your belly tickling the head of your hidden penis and the fat pad encasing it rubbing the shaft. You could never finish. The effort was too difficult to let your mind wander into orgasm.

You got your pleasure through your immobility. Even the fact that you were too fat to finish yourself was delightful, and the disappointment was just proof of how impossibly fat you have gotten. The ambivalence of disappointment and pleasure caused the two emotions to blur together. And sometimes you couldn't tell if you were annoyed with your immobility or if the life you currently lived was the best thing that had ever happened.

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alternative-ffa · 5 months

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Working on a NYE story. Look forward to December 31st! ;)

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alternative-ffa · 6 months

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The votes are in! Thank you for those who commented their choice. Story #3 is written and posted. :)

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alternative-ffa · 6 months

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The growling from his empty stomach overwhelmed him. By instinct, his impossibly fat hands reached down to rub his belly into submission.

Binging at night always caused severe hunger pangs in the morning. He'd stretch his stomach as full as possible with weight gain shakes and treats before sleeping; letting the calories take their place as fat on his frame.

But it caused painful irrational hunger each morning. He almost felt nausea each dawn before he began binging again. Food calmed him; whether mentally or physically. Being full was a satisfaction he always strived for.

Immobility due to extreme obesity was something that he never thought would happen. His appetite was extraordinary, but he never thought of it that way.

He was fit at one point in his life. He barely remembered it. But he recalled the positive attention. Being beautiful was easy.

He never felt the importance of physical beauty - mainly because it was always a reality for him.

His wavy dark hair would fall across his bright hazel eyes and it would make women and men alike swoon. His skin tight button down shirts showed his muscles in detail. He always dressed nice. It was a habit, rather than an effort.

And here he lay, years later, the same dark hair riddled with gray. His hazel eyes, glazed with a reality he tried to ignore. His skin tight clothing now at a custom size of 8xl - not that he wore clothing much anymore.

He lived alone, so the struggle to roll out of bed each morning was only his to bare. He grunted with effort as he began to shift his body back and forth, hoping to get enough momentum to swing his legs over the side of his bed. He finally succeeded, and pushed his hands against the mattress to lift himself into a sitting position. Once he sat on the side of the bed he was winded with the effort. He grabbed the sides of his belly to reposition it on his lap. Gasps escaped his lips as he caught his breath - desperate to get himself to the kitchen to calm his starving belly.

He had a bariatric sized walker. It was parked next to his bed to help him waddle his way through the house. His fat hands reached out towards it, finally able to grab the handles. He took another deep breath in preparation for standing. His fat feet, under his nonexistent ankles, took a few steps forward, pulling his body to the edge of the mattress. He let out a loud grunt as he finally stood. Grabbing the walker, he jiggled his frame to keep the fat rolls that were sticking to his body due to sweat, loose. With the amount of weight he carried, the jiggling almost toppled him back to the bed. He caught himself in time and swore in annoyance. He said under his breath to motivate himself, "...I just need to get to the kitchen..."

Lumbered with the effort, he waddled down the hallway. His walker barely fit, and his belly would rub against the walls. It was only a few steps, but he was winded again when he reached the refrigerator. He placed his walker out of the way of the fridge door, then sat in a chair. The chair was where he always began the day. It was just big enough for him to sit comfortably, but just small enough that it fit in front of the open fridge door. He didn't even bother taking items out - he just began to eat. Yogurt made from heavy cream was poured into his wide accepting mouth. He burped quietly, closed his eyes, and felt his insatiable hunger subside. Then he grabbed an 18 pack of eggs, four packages of thick cut bacon and two large bags of frozen hash browns. He stood, his legs aching with the weight they held. He moved the chair in front of the stove and began to cook his real breakfast.

He never had the patience in the morning to cook first thing. He always had to eat something first to calm his angry belly in order to cook.

His main frustration wasn't the effort it took to cook. Cooking excited him, as he watched everything being prepared, knowing he was getting a feast. Doing the dishes so he had clean plates and pans was what annoyed him. He had considered hiring a cleaner, just to do the things he didn't enjoy doing.

He didn't wear clothes, so that was less laundry to do. He just threw a sheet on the mattress and would order new sheets online each month, so that was also less for him to do. But he always thought that was wasteful. As he finished cooking his breakfast and saw the pile of pans he would have to clean again, he made a choice: he would just have to hire a cleaner. His expanding waistline made simple chores more and more difficult and he felt he was at the point where it was essential that he got help. Plus, he liked the idea of having a bed that was actually made correctly - with clean sheets and pillow cases.

As he gulped down his breakfast, he scrolled through his phone looking for local cleaning companies. He didn't want to hire someone from a big corporate entity, so he concentrated on looking for individual maids. Only one stood out to him. It was a young woman. She advertised that she preferred to be hired by those who really needed the help - even offering free services for homebound clients. He could afford to pay her, so he wasn't looking for a handout. But he liked that she was doing it to help those who were disadvantaged. His breakfast was almost completely consumed at this point, and his gratuitous belching echoed off the walls of his kitchen. He was satisfied and full, but felt disappointment that there was no more breakfast to eat.

So, he began to compose an email (he much preferred text communication to a telephone call). But he hesitated. He wasn't sure how to explain his situation without scaring her away. He stared at the blank screen... also not sure where to start. Should he be honest that he was too fat to do chores? Or should he leave out that fact and just concentrate on his immobility? When one hears that someone is immobile, morbid obesity is the last thing that comes to mind. Paralysis is more common. He nodded his head as he made the decision to leave his obesity out of it. All she needed to know was that he was unable to do things for himself and required the assistance.

He composed a quick email, only including the essential information: he was practically bed-bound and he needed help with dishes and laundry. He had a washer and dryer in his home, so that would make it easier. Clicking send, he continued his day as he waited for a reply.

He waddled his way into his living room, lumbering towards the oversized recliner he lived in during the daylight. It had only been an hour since he finished his first meal of the day, and his stomach began to growl. He loved eating, but was always frustrated with how quickly after a meal he felt hungry again. He knew his fridge was stocked with food, but he didn't want to cook again since it meant he would have to do the dishes. So he ordered out.

He was actually grateful for the take-out advancements that happened during the pandemic... instead of having to call a restaurant and spend an unusual amount of time practically ordering everything on the menu while the person on the other end of the line judged him, he could have more anonymity ordering online through an app. Scrolling through menus, adding more and more into his digital cart, excited him. He always thought how wonderful it would be if the food just appeared in front of him as he added items. He'd probably be too fat to even breathe at this point if that was a reality. But, instead, he had to wait for the delivery. And considering the amounts he would order, it took quite a while for the food to get to him.

He finished his order, then grabbed one of his books as he waited. He needed to distract his mind or his hunger pangs would torture him. Falling into the narrative, time passed quicker. It took over an hour and a half, but the bags were finally dropped at his doorstep. He waited patiently for the driver to leave before he waddled to the front door to pick up the bags. Luckily for him, his home was set far enough back from the road that no one could see him when he opened the door. He certainly couldn't lean down to grab them, so he had a metal grabbing arm that he used to pick up each bag and bring it inside.

Almost squealing with excitement and desire, he couldn't wait to dive into the food.

Then his phone chimed, indicating an email had come in. He wanted to immediately check it, but his appetite won over his curiosity at the response. He had the bags of food around him and the folding table in front of him as he said to himself, "I'll check it after I eat."

Chinese food happened to be his go-to today. He loved the taste, but usually didn't get it because of how quickly he would feel hungry afterwards. But this time, he felt that he ordered enough to keep himself full throughout the day. He began the first round of eating: stuffing himself with crab rangoons, beef teriyaki, egg rolls, spring rolls, chicken fingers, and chicken wings. He ate so fast that it only took about half an hour until he was forcing himself to burp in order to make more room. He rubbed his belly with more force than usual, trying to push the inevitable belch out of his gullet. It finally came and he groaned with satisfaction as the pressure in his belly subsided. He leaned back in his recliner with his eyes closed as his hands explored the blubber encasing him. His extensive network of stretch marks were the most sensitive thing about his flesh and he gently ran his fingers perpendicular to the harsh red lines of ripped skin. It made him shiver and pleasure ran through his body. Another wet burp escaped, and as he moaned aloud, he remembered the email he had to check.

Shaking his head a bit to try and clear his mind, he grabbed his phone and opened his inbox. There was a reply from the cleaner he had contacted. His heart skipped a beat. He wasn't sure why he felt anxiety because he had really never felt it before; but he opened the email and read that she was available to take on another client. He paused before responding. The hand holding his phone dropped to his belly, and he stared into space for a second thinking up what to say. Was this the time to tell her about his size? He sensed that he had to. The idea of her coming in his home to clean and then seeing him without proper expectations, flooded his mind with images of her running out of the house in terror. He sighed and lifted his phone again. His fingers were so fat that typing on the device was difficult. He tended to do voice-to-text for that very reason. But hearing his own voice, admitting outloud that he was too fat to do the most basic tasks, added to his anxious feeling. He read through his response many times, tweaking words and grammar here and there, until he was satisfied with the composition. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes again, and hit send.

He didn't have to wait long for a reply. A few minutes later his phone chimed and he saw that it was a response. He stared at the notification, gathering what emotional strength he had before he opened it.

To his surprise she still agreed to take him on as a client. He smirked a little as he provided her with his availability (which was essentially all the time). He felt a tinge of excitement knowing that he would have a visitor. Although it wasn't technically someone coming to spend time with him, he was looking forward to at least being able to audibly speak to another person. He wasn't sure she would even engage him in chit-chat, but the idea of it did excite him.

They agreed that she would come the next day at 10:00am to do an assessment and initial walk through of his home and what chores he would need done. Throughout the day, he found his heart skipping a beat every time he remembered that she would be in his home the next day. He never felt anxiety about much of anything, so he found it odd that this created hesitation and slight fear. His stomach began to growl again, and he grabbed more of his take out order - filling himself to the brim over and over again until night fell.

It was 10:00pm. He was stuffed. He lifted his huge body out of his recliner, waddled to the kitchen, and grabbed a gallon of ice cream. He placed it in a blender and added heavy cream. Pouring his concoction into a container, he placed it in the basket of his walker then used it to guide him to his bed. Above his bed on the wall was a funnel attached to a tube. Every night he filled this and as he chugged the fluid; forcing it down his throat and into his belly, he would lull himself to sleep by gluttony.

This night was different. A tinge of embarrassment flooded his mind as he realized the cleaner would see this set-up. Part of her duties would be to clean the funnel and tube. And he had no idea how he was going to explain that.

His full belly did eventually win over his anxiety and he drifted off to sleep with dreams of female attention.

His alarm blared at 8:00am, just enough time to fill his belly again and at least be covered in a blanket on his recliner by the time she arrived. He left the side door unlocked and texted her to use that door and come right in.

After stuffing himself in the kitchen, he barely made it to the recliner before 10:00am. His ears perked up when he heard the side door open. A soft female voice spoke, "Tristan?"

He replied from his chair, "I'm in here."

Heels clicked on the tiled kitchen floor then changed pitch as she walked on the wooden floor towards his living room. She poked her head around the doorway and he saw her eyes open wide in shock. His hands reached down to his swollen belly and he said, "Hi. I'm... I'm glad you came."

She was silent for only a moment, but it seemed much longer. She looked down at the floor and said to him, "I can see why you need assistance."

He initially felt insulted. But the way she said it was kind and matter-of-fact. So he replied, "yeah, I guess I've finally come to the point where I need the help."

She smiled at him. He pointed to the couch and said, "please, have a seat."

She walked by his recliner and sat gently on the couch, taking the room in. In reality, she was taking in his impossible size, but didn't want to stare at him directly, so it was through her peripheral vision.

She brought out a notebook from her bag and said, "what can I help you with?"

As she took notes, he explained, "I need dishes done daily. Sheets washed and the bed made at least every 3 days."

He paused. Then got up the courage to say, "I have a set up in the bedroom I will need washed as well."

She asked for clarification and he turned crimson. He elaborated, "there's a funnel and tube I use to drink my dessert at night. With the cream in it, I need it thoroughly cleaned each day."

She added to her notes without asking anything further about it. Then she put her notebook away and said, "I should be able to do that schedule. I can begin now by at least getting your dishes clean."

She saw the full sink when she initially walked into his home. He nodded and said, "I would appreciate that."

Then he added, "I know you offer free services, but I would still like to pay you for your work."

She smiled and said, "That would be great."

True to her word, she came to his home every day. Dishes were always in the sink when she arrived, and she also made sure to clean his feeding set up in the bedroom. To his surprise, she never questioned it.

Months passed. He saw her every day, and he found himself looking forward to her puttering around his home doing the tasks that were impossible for him to complete. She began to stay longer once she was comfortable with him. She would sit on his couch and chat with him for a while each visit. He looked forward to the company the most.

It had been long enough that she began to notice his increasing size. Of course, she knew he was actively gaining, given the unusual funnel and tube set up in his bedroom that she cleaned each day. Not to mention the bags of take-out in his trash. She finally mustered up the courage to ask him about it. After finishing her work, she sat on his couch for their usual chat and asked, "I'm not sure how to word this... but, I've noticed you've gotten bigger since I first came. I'm assuming it's on purpose. I... I guess I'm just curious... why?"

He wasn't sure how to answer. Should he tell her he enjoyed his fat? That he felt indescribable pleasure when he was too full to function? The silence as she waited for his answer made her feel guilty for asking. She said, "I'm sorry, it's none of my business."

He spoke immediately, "oh, no, it's a valid question. I'm just not sure how to answer. In short, you're right, I am actively getting fatter. I... I guess you could say, I enjoy it."

He paused, looked down at himself, his belly almost spilling over the arms of the oversized recliner. Then he said, "I know, it's weird."

She replied, "It is a little weird... but, if it's what you want, who am I to judge?"

He smiled.

Then, to his surprise, she said, "I have no more clients today... if I could stay longer. Maybe we could watch a movie or something together? Let me know if I'm overstepping."

Chuckling, he said, "You know, I'd really like that. As long as you don't mind that I eat during it... I'm pretty hungry."

She smiled and nodded in the affirmative, then added, "I could cook something for you if you'd like. Maybe save you some money on the take-out."

The idea that he had a beautiful woman wanting to cook for him made him hard. He felt his body shudder with pleasure and hoped she didn't notice. He replied, "I'd actually love that."

She stood up from the couch and, before she made her way into his kitchen, she asked, "is there anything in particular that you'd like?"

He looked up at her and said, "oh, really anything. Just make sure you make enough of it. I'm sure you can tell that my appetite is otherworldly."

He laughed to make her more comfortable with his statement.

Smiling at him, she walked to the kitchen. He could hear the pots and pans, the crinkling of wrappers and boxes opening as she prepared to cook. He didn't want to sit in his recliner. He wanted to watch her cook for him. So, for the first time since she began to clean for him, he stood and waddled his way into the kitchen. He wasn't wearing much - just a white undershirt and customed sized sweatpants. She saw him round the corner, his body jiggling with every step. Almost dropping the pan she was holding, she steadied herself with her hand on the counter. He noticed. And wanting to reply, he had to catch his breath to speak. He lowered himself into the big kitchen chair, huffing and puffing. Once he caught his breath, he said, "I figured I'd keep you company in here while you cook."

She had regained her composure and smirked as she said, "sure."

His chair happened to be placed near the liquor cabinet. He glanced at the clock and said, "well, it's 5 o'clock somewhere..." As he grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He didn't even need to ask for a glass. She was grabbing two of them and, placing them next to him, she said, "I'll have one as well. Ice cubes?"

He replied, "yes, just one for me."

The cubes clinked in the glasses, then she turned on the stove. He poured them both drinks and while the food cooked, she joined him at the small kitchen table. They drank together and she found herself enjoying every second. Given that this was the first time she cooked for him, she over did it. A fifteen pound honey ham was heating in the oven, along with ten large potatoes, and over a pound of asparagus. It was going to take a few hours, but those hours passed quickly as they drank together. By the time the food was done, both of them were feeling the whiskey. She began to slice the ham and he felt the surge of arousal that this beautiful woman had cooked for him. He promised himself that he would eat every last bite - this time having no fear of judgment despite knowing he was going to gorge himself into oblivion. She had finished preparing, then said, "Would you like to eat here? Or should we go into the living room?"

He was salivating as he said, "I'm so hungry, we'll just eat in here."

She prepared an overflowing plate for him, while her own plate was a normal serving size. He found himself gasp with pleasurable surprise at the gigantic plate of food... also taking into account how much food was left over; knowing she would be refilling his plate multiple times. Before she even sat, he had dived into it. He wanted to use his hands as it was a quicker way to get as many calories as possible in his mouth at once, but he held back and used utensils.

His gluttony took over and before she could even have a few bites of her own plate, he belched loudly and pushed his empty plate towards her as he said, "more, please."

She shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. He consumed it so quickly. Getting up, she filled it again and placed another overflowing plate in front of him.

This repeated multiple times. On the fifth plate he began to groan. The whiskey made him braver and looking at what was left over, he said, "I don't believe in leftovers. I want to finish it all."

He burped again. His hands rubbed his belly and he noticed his shirt had moved up and the bottom of his belly was exposed. He wasn't sure how long it was visible, but upon realizing that she wasn't bothered, he didn't try to pull it down. Another long, wet belch escaped his lips. He felt delirious with delight at gorging himself in front of her.

She got up, then placed the last of the food on her own plate. But instead of having it herself, she filled a fork with food then moved it towards his mouth. He opened wide with acceptance. For the first time in his life, he was being fed. It was the final gluttonous frontier for him. He always fantasized about being fed by another, but never thought it was something that could happen in reality. He was the most turned on he had ever been. More and more forkfuls were stuffed into his mouth and he moaned pleasurably with each one; only taking a break to burp and make more room.

It seemed like only seconds before the plate was empty. He looked at her with an expression of yearning for more. He didn't want the feeding to end. But even his belly was telling him: enough.

He leaned back in the chair. His eyes were closed and he groaned again as he whispered, "ugh, I'm so full."

She stared at him. It wasn't judgmental. It wasn't with disgust. It was almost a satisfied curiosity. She was surprised with herself. This was something she not only had never done before, but something she never thought she would do... but she liked it.

He was still rubbing his huge fat belly - not speaking a word. Then she remembered his nightly habit of sucking down calories made from heavy cream and ice cream. She stood and said, "Would you like to go to your bedroom for dessert?"

He knew exactly what she was referring to. Nodding, he replied, "oh my, yes! I... I'll need help getting there though... I think I'm fuller than I've ever been before."

Smiling, she placed his walker in front of him. She reached out her small thin hand towards him and he grabbed it - his fat hand eclipsing her own.

Using all her power, she tried to be a counterweight for him as he stood. She noticed his belly was so full it barely jiggled. It was hard as a rock and ballooned in front of him, heavy and stuffed. He stood and steadied himself with his walker. Then he began to waddle towards the bedroom. She was preparing the blender and had a gallon of ice cream and a liter of heavy cream. He was lowering himself into his bed as he heard the blender whir. He felt his cock pulse along with it, under the fat of his groin and belly. It was only a few minutes before she came into his bedroom holding the large container of blended cream based calories. He was laying in his bed, propped up on his pillows as he watched her approach the funnel. He reached his hand out to grab the tube, but she was quicker. She had already poured the concoction into the large funnel, and she held the tube with her thumb blocking it from flowing. She tucked her long hair behind her ears with her free hand, then placed the tube into his mouth. Upon removing her thumb, it began to flow. His fat hand grabbed it as he sucked it down greedily. Grunts escaped his lips as the fattening fluid filled him further and further. His stomach was in pain. He felt the impossible fullness lulling him into a food coma. He didn't want to pass out because he didn't want the night to end. But the sleepiness won over. His eyelids fluttered as he began to fall into a food induced sleep.

He felt his bed move slightly, but couldn't open his eyes to see due to delirium. Then he felt her body against his. She lifted his belly enough that she could curl up to him. Her arm reached as much around him as she could, and he dreamt as she massaged his fat, played with his stretch marks, teased the sensitive fat between his rolls. He was in and out of consciousness - his dreams filling in the spaces that his reality was experiencing. Both of them fell asleep. He wrapped his fat arm around her, pulling her closer. He knew he would awake in starvation the next morning, but felt assured that she would be there when he awoke - presenting him a glutton's worth of breakfast in bed.

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