Donut Dessert
I balance a box of Krispy Kreme’s in my hands as I struggle to unlock the front door. Upon entering, I am greeted with a not-so-surprising sight. There you are, laying on the couch taking a nap. There are pizza boxes, burger wrappers, and takeout containers strewn all around you—all from today’s stuffings. No less than 10,000 calories worth of fattening fast food sits heavily in your stomach as you sleep it off, you’ve been a very busy piggy.
I take a moment to admire how fat you’ve become. Your third chin is quite prominent now and your arms can no longer hang flat at your sides with how puffed up with fat they are. Your moobs seem to get thicker and thicker by the day and sit happily on the dome of your belly. Your giant gut has reached your knees, forcing your impossibly thick thighs apart. I desperately want to grab your love handles and feel all your fat in my hands, but I don’t want to wake you just yet.
Quietly making my way to the kitchen, I start on making your favorite food for dinner. I’m always surprised by how much food I have to cook now, always thinking “there’s no way anyone could finish this much.” No one but you, that is. I serve up enough for five or six people (or one very fat pig) and bring it to you in the living room.
You’re awake now, and your eyes light up as you see me walk in with your food. You give me the sweetest smile as you thank me and set the bowl on the top of your belly. Sitting down next to you with my own small portion, I get ready to watch my favorite show: you. You dig in excitedly, maybe eating a little too fast, and I know you’ll have hiccups later as a result. You moan every now and then, letting me know you like the food, barely paying attention to the movie you picked. You are so completely consumed with shoving the food into your mouth and filling your belly. Halfway through, you begin to slow down. You’ve worked up a bit of a sweat and your breathing has become heavier, more labored. By this point, you must be uncomfortably full, but experience has taught me that this is your favorite part.
Sure enough, as you take a break to chew the large bite you’ve just shoved in, your right hand reaches down to try and grab your member hidden under your belly. I know you must be hard under there, turned on by how fat you’ve become and how much you’ve already stuffed into your gut today. You give up after a few seconds, too full to continue jostling your tight stomach.
You take a few seconds to rub your tummy as you down a whole can of coke at once, then pick up your fork to shove more in after letting out a deep burp. All the food you’ve eaten so far is finally catching up with you, and you slow down even more. Having finished my own meal, I’m tempted to take your bowl and feed you myself. But I want to see how far you’ll push yourself without any kind of force or encouragement.
I find that I’m not disappointed as you not only finish the food, but lick your dish completely clean. I tell you how proud I am of you as I clear up and head back to the kitchen to do the dishes. I steal long looks at you as your belly tries its best to digest all the food you’ve eaten. You continue to rub your gut to relieve some of the pressure, but it never works as well as when I do it for you. The hiccups have started, just as I predicted, and I can’t help but smile at the bounce and jiggle that comes with each one. Even though you’re packed full, you play with your belly a little. You lift it up slightly and let it drop, immediately regretting it as you moan in pain and pleasure. You’ve been so insatiable lately, and it amazes me how fast you’ve gained this past year. But the night is not over yet, I still have so much more for your cavernous tummy.
I let you rest for a while as we finish the movie, but as soon as it’s over, I tell you it’s time for dessert. It takes a bit of convincing, but I finally get you to agree to come upstairs with me to have your treats in bed. And after about five minutes of us both trying to get you off the couch, I grab your chubby fingers in one hand and the box of donuts in the other and slowly lead your giant form up the stairs.
We take a break when we reach the top, and you’re so out of breath I think you might just collapse, but I know the thought of shoving a dozen donuts in your already full belly is tempting enough for you to keep going. It seems like forever until we finally reach the bedroom, but it’s worth it as I watch your bloated body jiggle as you climb onto the bed and sit in a comfortable position. Your belly rises up and down as you breathe heavily from exertion, so I allow you a minute to catch your breath again while helping you take off your skin tight t-shirt. It’s far too small for you now. All the binging and movement had caused it to roll up your gut so that it only covers your plump moobs. As I peel it off I’m reminded that I will soon need to get you new clothes. You’ve grown out of the ones we got last month so quick, so this time we’ll get a few sizes up. But at the moment I simply want to do what I’d been thinking about since I walked in the door.
I climb onto your lap and straddle you, getting as close as I can without disturbing your belly too much. I start off with belly rubs, and you’re so grateful for the touch that you let out a long, deep moan. After you manage to get out a few burps, I pick up the first donut and bring it to your mouth. Like a good piggy, you immediately open wide and take half the donut in one bite, then the other half a few seconds later. It continues smoothly like this, but only for the first four donuts. By the time the fifth reaches your lips, you’re pleading with me to end it there. For a moment, I think I should. You’ve already eaten so much today, and you’ve been the most obedient feedee anyone could ask for, but I’m a feeder at heart and I just can’t resist the urge to keep stuffing you.
Kissing your cheeks and multiple chins, I tell you how happy you would make me if you’d finish your dessert. This line always works. Even with how big you’ve become, you’re still my little submissive butterball, and your goal is always to make me happy and impress me with your greediness. As a result, you tentatively open your mouth and accept the fifth donut. Then the sixth, and the seventh. You start to complain again so I take a break to focus on belly rubs as I continue to say sweet, encouraging words to you.
As I do so, your cheeks turn red and your already heavy breathing gets a little heavier, faster. You love being talked to like this, and I know your hard-on must be back. I giggle to myself softly, it’s so much easier to get you excited now than it was 350 pounds ago. I change my tone a bit and tease you about how big you’re getting. How you’ve grown out of so many clothes, and about how much space you take up on the bed, how you’ll be too fat to move if you keep being so greedy. You lean your head back as you moan deep and slow, your fat hands exploring your body as you whisper to yourself, asking yourself why you’re so greedy, how you got so fat. I surprise you by reaching down to grab your dick myself, and I almost melt watching all your fat quiver in response.
As I stroke you, I continue to tell you how much fatter I’m going to make you. I explain in detail how I’ll stuff you to bursting every night and keep you stuck in bed all day until you couldn’t move even if you tried. After a few minutes, you’re ready for more. I pick up your eighth donut in my free hand and continue the fat talk you love so much. This time you don’t complain and happily, almost greedily, bite into it. I want to give you a moment to chew, but after only a second, your chubby fingers wrap around mine and force me to bring the rest of the donut to your mouth impatiently.
A smile appears on my lips, I love when you get this way! I am so impressed by your greediness that I stroke you even faster. By the time you get the tenth donut down, you blow your load all over my hand and the underside of your belly.
Satisfied, you shift your body down in the bed, fat rolls jiggling as you do, and smile at me through heavy eyelids. A food coma is starting to take over your mind and body, which works in my favor. Sleepily, you open up your mouth and lazily finish the last two donuts as I feed them to you. I lean into your bloated belly to whisper softly into your ear how proud I am of you as you nod off to sleep with a faint smile on your face. I dismount you to start cleaning up, but I can’t help but watch your belly rise and fall for a few minutes as you sleep. I steal a quick kiss on your fat cheek and whisper “Good night, piggy. Sweet, sweet dreams.”