BellyForceFeedee

Gula. Acedia. (by Czechfeeder) Adele stretched out sleepily in bed. It was almost ten o'clock in the morning and she still couldn't get used to not being woken up. Richard, her husband, had left a week ago for a six-month internship in the United States and suddenly Adele had a new life. "And much more pleasant," thought Adele. Richard was a stickler and a stickler for detail. Sometimes she felt that he treated her like a little girl. He planned her time, told her what to cook, even gave her advice on dressing. The cycle of work, squash, gym, shopping and cooking, laundry. Over and over again. Before the wedding and in the early years of the marriage, this suited her submissive nature perfectly, but in the last few weeks it was fatigue. She felt like a cog in a clock, an insignificant worker in a giant anthill. To rest, she took a two-week sabbatical from work. And she enjoyed it. The first week she did nothing at all. She lounged in bed, read and occasionally downloaded a movie from the internet. She skipped gym and squash, indulging in all the treats Richard forbade her to eat: fried food, chips, chocolate, the occasional dessert. She kept it from Richard unconsciously. She knew how obsessed he was with her slim figure, so she made an excuse about her illness in the first week. He communicated with her via skype and even gave instructions remotely. It was annoying. One day he even noticed a bit of tartar sauce stuck to her chin. She told him it was low-fat yogurt. Other days, the jet lag allowed her to pretend she was going to work. Plus, she made the excuse that she had accidentally deleted her Skype and couldn't fix it, so their communication was limited to email. She was enjoying her last few days off and mentally preparing to return to work. During the week of lounging she had gained almost two pounds, but she knew that after a few hours of aerobics and Zumba she would be back down to her 68 kg weight. She wasn't looking forward to it at all, she loved lounging in bed. She clicked on Richard's email. He was describing his life and work, and of course he had his favourite topic: "American women are usually fat as pigs, you better go work out twice a day so you don't grow an ass. And skip dinner!" At that moment, something inside her broke. She's not going to do his bidding anymore, she's going to teach him a lesson. She's not going to work out for six months on her own. And she'll eat whatever she wants. She'll see that she doesn't have to obey him in everything and that she can do what she wants. The thought filled her with a strange excitement. On the one hand, a pleasant feeling flooded her, coupled with the idea that she wouldn't have to police herself in her eating. But she was also flushed with the knowledge that she would be doing this behind Richard's back and how furious he would be when he found out. How would he probably look? She decided she would enjoy the last three days of lazing around. She didn't even feel like going shopping, so she ordered a bunch of treats and litres of Coke online. That night she overate for the first time in a long time. She lay on her back in bed, watching TV and enjoying the feeling. She didn't fall asleep until after midnight, groggy from the unusual dose of sugar. She felt like a **. When she woke up the next morning, she remembered that sweet feeling again and realized she had enough food to bring it on again. And the upside was that she was in no danger of a hangover from overeating. All she had to do was wait for it to come off. And stuff herself again. She replied to Richard's email ("Yes, I work out every day, I'm busy, I send my kisses."), rolled into bed and reached for a bag of chips. Two days passed in the blink of an eye. By Sunday night, all the food was gone and the scale showed her at 72 kilos. She wrote an email to Richard describing her exercises and diet. Then she ordered four large pizzas and decided to celebrate her last day off. Two hours later, she was lying on her side on the couch, totally overfed. And she still had almost half her order left. She imagined the look on Richard's face. She grunted in pleasure. She ran her hand into her crotch, feeling how wet she was. She shoved another slice of pizza into her mouth and began to masturbate. In the morning, she called in sick to work. The next call was to the order service. She spent the next 14 days the same way. She spent the whole day lying in bed in front of the TV, eating and masturbating. Her weight jumped to 77 kilograms and her panties began to dig into her waist. Her metabolism, accustomed for years to an active lifestyle, began to store the calories consumed on her body. In her emails to Richard, she kept writing about her work and detailing her visits to the gym. She found a kind of perverse pleasure in it. Like overeating. She indulged in it at least once daily. The feeling of lying completely stuffed in bed was, in her opinion, the best thing in the world. She wondered if she felt that way herself and found a site on the internet about chubby girls. She devoured with interest the profiles of several fat girls. She was amazed to find that there were many paid sites where girls were getting fat for money. And she found some of the fattening stories so sexy that she longed to become one of the heroines. The next week, two things happened: she fattened up to 80 kilograms and was fired from her job for absenteeism. And then she started to run out of money. Richard was a tightwad and so sent her a small amount each month to supplement her salary. And she couldn't have asked for more, because she kept emailing him about going to work, exercising, and the occasional spoonful of yogurt. Richard's return was still more than four months away and she wanted to enjoy it. And teach him a lesson. "Just enjoy it," she thought to herself, her hand stroking the fat kidney that had settled on her belly. The 10 pounds she had gained in two months filled her with intense excitement. Her ass had grown, her breasts, even her arms and thighs were softer and somehow more supple to the touch. She sat down at her computer and typed an ad on a chubby forum, "Maybe my idea is a bit utopian, but I would like to find a solvent man and a feeder in one person. I am a submissive and perpetually hungry handsome fatty who is looking for a longer term pampering relationship. More via email... " Within two days, her email had gathered nearly 50 replies. She sorted out the ones she wasn't attracted to and prepared for her first visit. Over the next week, she met with 20 of the most interesting candidates, from which she selected the top 6. She felt like she was on some twisted reality show. Each one was totally different from the others. But they all had one thing in common: they liked that she was getting fat. And they were ready to help her. On Monday morning, Mark came in. The butcher, a man as strong as a bull. During several trips to and from the car he filled her fridge with steaks, cold cuts, salami, sausages, tripe, in short, everything she could get a craving for during the week. He then watched with tenderness in his eyes as the grease from the mutton dripped down her greasy chin onto her breasts. They had rounded out nicely in the last few days, stretching every shirt to bursting. He watched in silence for hours as she gorged herself on the meaty delicacies and washed them down with beer. When she was so full she was unable to move, he kissed her on the forehead and left. Adéla was so stuffed and dazed from the excess of food and beer after his visit that she fell asleep immediately. And in the morning she was awakened by Ruda and Zdeněk, professional cooks. All day and night they prepared the meals she wanted. With only one rule: what she ordered, she had to eat. They took turns in the kitchen and in her bed without any sign of jealousy. Only when she was so full that she was unable to swallow a bite and the skin on her stomach was painfully tight did they both engage in sexual play. She slept like the dead after such a shift until Wednesday evening when Tomas rang the doorbell. He was young and handsome. And he treated her like a **. He asked her what she wanted, then ordered food over the phone. He waited in silence until she'd eaten everything, then made love to her. I have to say, he ordered really big portions and she often had trouble eating them all. Then she was lying overstuffed in bed and Tomas threw a crumpled wad of bills at her feet. But a big wad. Thursday was a day of cleaning. Majka, a matronly woman in her forties, arrived dressed as a maid and cleaned her entire apartment. Adela wasn't allowed to lift a finger. She lay in bed all day and Majka jumped all over her. At the same time, she washed, ironed and cleaned the apartment. Every now and then she would hand Adéla a Nutella bread, a bag of sweets or a bar of chocolate with an innocent smile. In the afternoons, Adéla was often more overfed than when Rudy and Zdeněk visited. At the moment when she couldn't move anymore Majka rushed at her like a typhoon and the fingers and tongue of the experienced woman sent Adéla to heaven sometimes six times in a row. Martin was a handyman and on Fridays he decorated her apartment. He also cooked. Not as good as Ruda and Zdenek, but hearty. And happy. He was a fun companion. And an experienced feeder. He taught her how to fatten up with whiskey and cognac. And he brought her **, which greatly increased her appetite. And with Martin, it was necessary. This was where she learned her limits. He fed her personally and lovingly, but uncompromisingly. Often she was literally whimpering from her overfed belly, but he would shove another hamburger or tub of ice cream into her mouth without mercy. His visits often stretched into Saturday night, when she spent most of that time overfed to the max. Sundays were spent alone in bed, munching and relaxing. Accustomed to the huge food intake, she would fall asleep in the evening feeling hungry and looking forward to Monday morning. After the first fortnight she had put on nearly six kilograms, and after another two weeks another eight. Her breasts had grown two sizes, her thighs had become so thick that she was unable to stuff them into her pants. Her belly had ballooned out of her soft tummy into a plump white doughy gut that spilled over the waistband of her skirt. Lying on her back, she couldn't see her toes through them. Satisfied in bed, she patted it with one hand while the other drummed out an email to Richard: ...I'm busy right now and there's a new Zumba trainer at the gym. Very good... She hit 100 the next month. The chefs had baked her a cake and, to her own surprise, she had managed to seduce Mark. All she had to do was lie on her back, overfed, massage her fat belly with her hands and ask him with an innocent expression: "How big do you think my belly will be when I weigh fifty kilos more?" Mark turned out to be an attentive and gentle lover, remarkably shy considering his appearance. A few days later she realized that four months had passed since Richard's departure. In that time, she had gained nearly 40 kilograms. "No wonder," she thought. "I've become a well-fed, fattened fucking machine. Richard won't like that." She had become accustomed to her total laziness and gluttony, and it thrilled her to be a constantly overfed, fucked-up fat beauty. Richard's return was filling her partly with excitement at how unpleasantly surprised he would be and partly with fear at his reaction. Recently he had called her unexpectedly in the middle of Martin's visit. "Adele, please?" she murmured into the receiver, surprised. "Are you out of breath?" He asked. "I was just running on the treadmill, I texted you that I bought one," she replied breathlessly. "Ugh, that was close," she then said to herself. She was getting more and more nervous as his return approached. Knowing the end of her sweet life was approaching, she tried to enjoy every last drop. She met a masseur, Honza, on the internet who began massaging and, more importantly, feeding her on Wednesday morning. He lovingly kneaded her curves and folds while stuffing pastries into her mouth. She felt that as if every cupcake was turning right into more fat for her belly. Lack of exercise and constant overeating pushed her weight to 128 kilos a fortnight before Richard's return. Her breasts had grown to the size of grapefruits, her belly had begun to lose its battle with gravity and formed a fat lobe on the underside, her thighs squashing into each other when she walked occasionally, and her buttocks had grown into two giant balloons covered in cellulite. A week later she was approached by another sympathetic feeder, Daniel. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to see him again," she thought sadly. "Richard is coming back the day after tomorrow and I'm probably in for a spanking and definitely a hard diet. I've fattened up sixty pounds in six months, he's going to shit himself." She opened the email message with a chubby hand: "Adele, they've extended my stay, I'm not coming back for another six months. Richard." A stone fell from Adele's heart. "Ugh, I might be able to lose some weight in six months," she thought. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her t-shirt was desperately small and her belly was pushing out from underneath it. Her thighs and ass jiggled gently with every movement. She liked herself. And so did her feeders. She loved her idle life of food and sex. "Or I'll see how much weight I gain in the next six months", she smiled to herself. "And it'll give Richard a stroke." She dialed Daniel's number, "Hey, it's Adele, would you be available on Sundays during the weekends? Fine. Then I'll be expecting you at 11:00. Buy lots of burgers and Coke." (this was a wholly machine translation from the Czech original over at baculky.info thru deepL, with about a dozen words fixed manually)

Lack of confidence.

She seems fatter.

62.5 kg

She says she's not even chubby, and FAs in general are very rare. Unless she met him on a fat dating site, odds are 99% he isn't an FA.

I keep wondering how one could meme e-girls into being aware that every time someone at least mildly popular starts gaining a little weight, a select bunch of nerds is going to be subjecting photos and videos of said people to merciless, salivating analysis.

Lol, she made the Daily Mail. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-9210251/250LB-woman-finds-love-fitness-trainer-half-size.html?ito=social-twitter_mailonline comments make her fiance look like one of us.

Hopefully, by 2022: