Prompt: Feeder Takes Their New Feedee Back Home To Meet The Parents For Thanksgiving. The Feedee Is About

Prompt: Feeder takes their new feedee back home to meet the parents for Thanksgiving. The feedee is about to find out who the feeder learned it from.

The table was starting to dig into the newly stuffed stomach of your figure. Every few seconds, another offer.

"Some cranberry sauce, dearie?"

"Want some more turkey?"

"Got any room for mashed potatoes?"

And every time, you were too polite to deny them and instead just nervously smiled and accepted the heaping portion on your plate.

Your partner had been eager to bring you back home for Thanksgiving, and you'd been excited to meet their family in turn. You'd worn something baggy to accommodate any pudge you put on, maybe a handful of pounds over the course of your stay. "They'll stuff you bigger than the turkey." Your partner had mentioned with a chuckle and an elbow jab. And true to their word, here you were, stomach already groaning and straining your outfit on the first night.

Your partner had their hand in your lap, gently rubbing the underside of your swollen belly as their family eagerly watched you push bite after bite into your mouth. You felt fit to burst, and you kept having to move your chair back to allow your stomach a few more inches of grace, but you kept filling the new space every hour or so.

When they brought dessert out, you nearly groaned at the heaping portion of pie and ice cream that they plated you. And you watched their eager eyes as your partner helped get the fork past your lips seeing as how you seemed closer to going into a food coma than anything else. Despite this, you kept awake, and opened when he asked, chewed and swallowed and repeated. Everything ached and you tried to rub your bloated belly as you swallowed another bite of chilled ice cream.

What stopped them even if only for a moment, was when your chair creaked and then splintered as it shattered under the immense weight you forced it to carry. You yelped and hit the floor with a meaty thud, sending ripples along your stomach and fat as your partner moved to quickly comfort you. Though you found that after they'd checked that you were okay, their hands quickly went back to offering food and beginning to rub your stomach as you sat bloated and stuffed on the floor, your stomach now touching the cool tile.

Bigger than the turkey, huh?

You're such a good writer, sweetie~

if it's not too much, would you be so kind as to do another on the immobile pet~?

Thank you, pup~

A rumble leaves your stomach as your owner sits perched on your mountain of fat, practically sinking into it as they lean forward to feed you another slice of cake. They've gotten into funnel feeding you for ease, and it's only served to make you look seconds away from popping nearly perpetually. Which is to say, exactly what you wanted.

The day before, you'd had an entire freezers worth of melted ice cream funneled into your mouth as you kept swallowing like a good pet. Each bob of your neck fat brought a pat to your stomach as your owner praised your hard work.

They'd chased down the ice cream with liters of soda, and then a mix of milkshake and donuts blended into a sludge that slid down easily and rested in your stomach like a stone.

A groan left your throat as your stomach gurgled in distress from your owner's weight on you, but you were less than willing or caring enough to accommodate. Your owner said to finish that cake, and you would like a good pet. They pressed another slice to your blubbery lips as you opened your mouth to accept the dessert.

Nerdy guy who just got juiced by his girlfriend, but is now slowly reinflating into a blueberry again

"This used to fit."

Was the anxious call of your mind as you wiggled out of your pants. You were sure your girlfriend would deny it, after all, why'd you go through all that trouble to squeeze you dry of all the juice if you were just going to swell up again?

First it was your boxers. They usually practically hung off your hips, but as the week had progressed, they'd gotten snugger to the point that when inspecting yourself in the mirror, every line and trace of your skin was practically pushing against the cloth and on display. And you couldn't lie and pretend your ass hadn't felt heavier as well.

Then your thighs. Puffier in the waistband, having to loosen a belt notch further than you normally would. Grunting as you stuffed yourself back into your pants.

Though what caught your attention the most today, was when you'd jumped slightly to try and force yourself back into your pants, and noticed the hearty slosh that came from your stomach which seemed to swell forward a couple inches in symphony with the sound. A low gurgle rumbling out which you quickly attempted to hush, wrapping your arms around your middle to hold your stomach in place as it groaned. A glance up at the mirror in front of you revealed a steady crawl of blue spreading across your face alongside the beginnings of a second chin dropping low on your neck.

Fuck, not again.

Requesting a piece about fattening up your totally obedient and loyal pet, please~ Especially if you can do it from the pet’s pov~

You feel them ruffle your hair as they praise you for another swallow of the food they pushed past your lips. A groan in your stomach signals the stuffing session might be reaching it's end, but you still enthusiastically open up for another bite.

"Look at you. Y'look like a puppy with worms. Don't even know how you'll fit in your bed like that."

Your stomach rests heavy on your thighs and you watch them reach forward and begin to rub your belly while repeating the words "You're just a good dog, huh?"

The mostly skimpy outfit they asked you to change into is on its last threads, the tights riddled with holes from your swollen thighs, a that has ridden up to hug around your collarbone, and your waistband seems fit to snap. Though every bite you take makes your owner happy so you don't think you'd have it any other way. They look over the remainder of the food on the table before pulling a large gainer shake towards you. You go to reach for the glass but are stopped when your owner tips it back to your mouth instead, startling you for a moment before you start obediently chugging as the fattening shake drips into your mouth.

Another groan from your stomach and their free hand is back on it, massaging around the naval as they tell you how good of a pet you are. As the last drops fall into your mouth, and they wipe any of the dribble that had begun to make it's way down your double chins, they focus their attention on your stomach. Kissing it, rubbing it, massaging the taut skin as they showed you with praise. "Such a good pet." Is the most common one. And while your excitement is unmatched, it's hard to do anything but pitifully squirm as your stomach weighs you down in your chair. You're such a house pet.

this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!

need a condescending older woman to tell me to “let it out let it all out baby” while i scream and scratch and bite and panic trying to push her off of me