Kinktober '22 #24: Dominant Feeder (Patreon)

“Oh, dearest, it’s just one more bite. I promise it won’t hurt you,” Isla coaxed.

Isla could tell Ari felt nauseated. She’d packed her to the gills, and kept her eating long after she would’ve given up on her own. “All you have to do is open your mouth and swallow, and then you’ll be finished.” Ari didn’t say no, but she still didn’t open her mouth.

Isla massaged her belly gently, fingers gliding over the many pounds of flesh they’d mounded onto Ari’s middle over the years. “If you really want to stop, we can stop. An extra thirty calories or so probably won’t make a difference, especially with how fat you’ve already gotten.” She could see the gears in Ari’s head turning, weighing her desires to please and get fatter with her ardent wish to sprawl out in bed and digest.

Finally, Ari opened her mouth, just barely wide enough for her to feed her a final bite of cake. Ari groaned as she chewed. It seemed to take an age for her to swallow everything down, and it was clear even that one bite went down heavy. Isla kissed her forehead. “Good girl. I knew you could do it.”

As Ari lay belly-up in bed, all but begging for the belly rubs that would help her fall asleep, she mused on how perfectly Isla was able to push her buttons. All gentle sweetness, but with steel upholding it. Isla wasn’t the type to punish or push boundaries, but she was exacting. She had expectations. Ari felt as if she’d been perfectly molded to want to meet every one of those expectations.

She’d been a little chubby when they met – just enough that you could tell she liked to eat. They’d been friends at first. Isla had observed her silently, trying to see if all Ari’s talk of diets and jokes about how badly she needed a gym membership were smoke and mirrors or coming from somewhere genuine.

When Isla eventually made the first move, still not knowing, she’d had no qualms about showing her appreciation for the softest places on Ari’s body: the curve of her belly, the softness under her chin that had not yet doubled, the squishiest part of her upper arms. Ari had felt shame as she jiggled, but also like she’d been found out. She felt like Isla knew something about her that she’d never had words for.

Isla liked playing at dominance, but her dominance was always in service of what Ari wanted. And what Ari wanted often seemed to be food and body worship, in that order.

Nights where Isla coaxed a final bite between Ari’s lips were commonplace. She never truly pushed Ari past where she wanted to go. But she pushed just enough to make Ari realize she wanted it. She wanted so badly to eat and grow and never stop.

That was why she was lying in bed, flesh wobbling as Isla massaged lotion into her buttery-soft gut and heaped praise upon her. The praise was almost as delicious as all the cake roiling in her belly.

Isla loved seeing Ari bask in her affection. Isla felt like it was the least she could offer after Ari put so much effort into keeping herself near-permanently glutted and constantly growing. Seeing her fat belly tower above her after every stuffing made Isla want to spoil her even more. Ari didn’t even have to ask for it. And all the extra pampering – the homemade meals, the impromptu massages, the constant reminders that Isla wanted her more than anything else – only made Ari more eager to please, and eager to eat.

And that was why, once again, Ari was doing her best to breathe through all the overeating she’d done, and sounded like she was about to give birth. Both women wondered, separately and silently, how much further they’d take this. Ari was close to three hundred pounds now, and almost all belly. Would they keep stuffing her until 350? 400?

Ari was too full to think about how much more eating she’d have to do to make any of that real. Best to focus on the meal inside her right then.