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[extra-stout-content]

(Vignette. Reblog to spread widely because I don't know what tags to use under this new kink-negative Tumblr regime, except to replace the "E"s with "3"s in that thing we love so much.)

It's never enough. I can't stop.

I just want to eat and eat and get fatter and fatter. Rolls on top of rolls, softness and heaviness. I want to look in the mirror and see my face swallowed up by fat cheeks and billowing triple chins, watch my belly quivering proudly in front of me, every inch of me puffy with soft blubber. I want to eat and eat and eat.

I try to stop sometimes. I tell myself that I have to take care of my health, make some concessions to reality. But then I'm back in the supermarket bakery aisle, mouth watering, shoving box after box of treats into my cart, already getting horny. I want to be so fat.

No matter how hard I try to resist it, I'll always be a glutton. I love it too much. I love being the one who goes back for seconds and thirds and fourths at my work's holiday parties, oblivious or indifferent to the stares, knowing I'm the office fat guy. I love outgrowing my shirts. I love stepping on the scale and seeing the numbers rise past what I ever thought possible.

I'm so hungry. So greedy. When you're in my presence it's like you're being drawn into a vortex of gluttony, an overwhelming need for food and fat. To lift food to my lips. To hear me say it, those three little letters we love so much. "Fat. So fat. Fatter. Make me fatter." I don't care about anything else any more. Just our lust and my appetites. Fatten me up. Ruin me. Or are you improving me? Your greedy fat boy. Your greedy, greedy fat boy who can't control himself around food.

I'm getting so fucking fat.

And you're getting fatter with me.

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Story Index

If you're new and looking for the index of all my stories while I'm on hiatus, you can find it here.

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Relationship goals

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Hucow and Minotaur

A feedist couple enjoys some intense bedroom roleplay followed by aftercare. (SSBBW, size-unspecified male feeder. CW: Hucow play, mildly explicit sex, lactation.)

I've been feeling creatively blocked lately and was determined to get something written tonight, so imagine my satisfaction when I opened up my drafts-in-progress folder and realized that I had a sexy short story already 80% completed. Read this one if you're into extreme hucow play and descriptions of a loving couple's aftercare; the emotional bond here is as hot as the feeding.

But remember, the minotaur will gore you with his horns if you like but don't reblog. And if you want to set notifications for new stories but don't want to get alerts for everything else I post, follow @extra-stout-content.

--

A minotaur, half bull and half man, can speak. A cow can only moo and whimper.

She was lying half-asleep in satisfied torpor when the gate of the pen slid open. A cow spends most of its day grazing and chewing, and this cow was no exception. With hands rather than hooves, she could grasp a hamburger or a milkshake or a slice of pizza, but her mind had become utterly bovine, aware only of an endless rhythm of hunger and satiety. Sprawled out in the warm darkness of the cushioned pen, she could feel the rising and falling of her belly, the slow shifting of her rolls and sliding of her folds as she reached for another bite. She could feel the quivering of her cheeks and chins as she chewed.

She could hear his heavy breathing, the only sound other than her chewing. A sudden thirst struck her. Slowly she began to stretch and drag her body a fraction of an inch towards the trough, her greedy fingers pulling the tube to her lips. The liquid flowed swiftly down her throat, not thick but heavy with sweetness, like sweet tea or liquid syrup. She felt contentment. This tastes so good. A cow can only focus on the moment, and she briefly lost awareness of his presence as her mind turned to the pleasure of the drink, sucking with more and more greed until drops began to dribble down her triple chins. She groaned with contentment. The bell on her collar jingled quietly.

His voice shocked her back to the knowledge that he was there in the pen with her.

"I want you, cow." His words were a low, rough growl.

There was a new emotion in her mind now, something besides hunger. It was a mixture of surprise and excitement.

She felt his powerful hands grip her hips, rough fingers sinking into pillowy fat. She let out a moan of arousal, but her arousal was tinged with fear. Her bovine mind hadn't expected this.

For a split second the trance seemed to break. She seemed to hear words, human words: *Remember, a cow only does two things. She gets fed and she gets bred."

She smiled and shivered and sank back into bovine contentment, throbbing with excitement now. Fed and bred. She knew why he had entered the pen.

He sank into the cushion of her softness, eager hands sliding up the quivering side rolls of her belly as he mounted her. She gasped.

His thrusts were fierce, steady, decisive.

She turned her head, her chins quivering. Their eyes met. His were cold, firm, implacable. Hers were pleading, eager, fearful, until suddenly they became bright and flirtatious.

She smiled at him and reached for the feeding tube.

Throbbing with excitement, the rolls of her enormous body shaking all over as he crashed again and again against her softness, she began to suck on the tube. The liquid was so warm and sweet, so full of calories.

Fed and bred.

When she slipped the tube between her lips she could feel his excitement building, his movements become faster and more ragged, his fingers plunging even more greedily into the folds of flesh where her breasts met her belly, her hips met her back, her belly met her thighs.

Then his fingers were in her hair, swiftly jerking her head back as the tube slipped from her lips and she let out a moan, the bell on her collar ringing loudly now, bouncing against her soft chins.

She thought she was going to pass out from the pleasure.

For a moment she did.

--

Fragments of memories passed through her mind in what felt like an endless instant. Strong arms wrapped around her, gently helping her lift her exhausted body from the floor. Powerful shoulders supported her as she tottered slowly through the door that separated the pen from the bedroom. Every step labored, her knees trembling, her belly hanging lower and heavier than ever, feeling fuller than ever.

Then the relief of collapsing into bed.

When she awoke the minotaur's horns were gone, packed away with the rest of the "toys" in the "playroom." So were the remorseless ferocity in his eyes and the cold set of his mouth. What was left was a human face, a man's face, inches from hers, watching her eyelids flutter open.

"I was worried about you for a minute there," he said, draping a thick arm around the soft fat of her shoulders, toying idly with the strings of her cow-print bikini top. "You okay?"

"Mmmhmm." She let out a soft sigh of relaxation. Her legs still felt like jelly, but now that she was settled in bed the exhaustion was pleasant. Her decisions were hers to make now, and right now she wanted nothing more to spend the rest of the day cozy in bed, cuddling with her lover and decompressing from the excitement of the cow pen.

"I'll help you with a shower when you're ready. Want me to get the sponge and clean you up?"

"No. I still kind of feel like a dirty cow, and I like it."

"How about some food? You hungry?"

"Always." She smiled.

When he returned with a tray full of breakfast pastries, he climbed into bed next to her. For a long time they basked in the quiet afterglow as she ate, his fingertips idly tracing the rolls of her belly. She felt safe in his arms.

Eventually he grinned and spoke. "Any milk left in those udders, Bessie?"

"Of course, baby."

He lifted a heavy breast, placed his lips around it, and began to suck.

Still sleepy and blissful in the afterglow, no longer the fierce minotaur, he nestled himself against the enveloping softness of her belly, her breast in his mouth. Underneath his hardness he was such a tender boy.

Her appetite for play could never be entirely satisfied. Neither could his, she knew. It was what had drawn them together.

It occurred to her suddenly that she had the belly and breasts of an enormous satisfied broodsow, and that he was her greedy suckling piglet. A scenario began to form in her mind.

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Follow For Original Content

This is a sideblog of @extra-stout-stories where I only post my own original content: stories, vignettes and high-effort discourse posts reblogged from my main account.

On my main I reblog a lot of content because I believe in signal boosting fat4fat/mutual content, discussion of kink ethics and community norms, and posts I find hot. If you want to be notified of new original content from me but don't want to turn on notifications for my main blog, you can follow me here.

My ground rules for this blog are: (1) I'll post new stories and vignettes when they first appear, and (2) I might reblog feedist discourse posts where I've answered an interesting ask or contributed a significant comment to an ongoing thread. Otherwise, everything will be on my main account.