kidneybean

So for some context here, this is written for my partner. I figured I'd share it here in case anyone else might enjoy it. In all honesty, I think it is written pretty specific to our dynamic so I'm not sure too many people here will actually be into it. Before you get invested, it's written from my perspective (I'm male) for my girlfriend. I bring more of the feedism elements to the table, she's more into ownership, but we have fun with both. Fair warning, this is the first time I've tried writing things like this, so it probably isn't a literary artwork. Her reaction depending, there may be further updates. J So here’s the thing. You probably expect to hear me tell you a wild, unrealistic fantasy, but that wouldn’t really get my point across. So I’m not going to spare you the details. This is less a desire so much as a goal (a purpose if you will). I want you to know, to what lengths I will go here. I want you to know where you are headed. You’ve seen how effective I am when I’m determined to achieve something. I’m going to find out how much you can be worshiped. You used to be very shy to ask me to do things for you, get you food, move your laptop, dress you, etc. I think we were able to break that habit pretty quickly, but I’m still not satisfied with how you ask. I think if I truly belong to you, you’ll feel no guilt demanding anything at any time. I want to hear you barking commands at me from the other room, “Laptop!”, “Blanket!”, “Food!”. I want you to see how quickly and attentively I obey you. Watch me closely when you do this, see how fixated I am. I promise you’ll become addicted to this way of existing. I think there’s a part of you, deep down, that sees yourself going this way. Maybe you feel a little bit of guilt because of that, but you shouldn’t. I am obsessed with spoiling you. Watch me when I feed you, when I touch you, when I bathe you. I have every intent of devoting myself to your pleasure. Nothing is more rewarding than seeing you demand more and more of me. Its how I know I’m serving you right. I don’t want you to ever stop asking for more. I need you to forget anything other than what you want. So how exactly is this going to happen? I think it starts with getting you used to the new things of living together. There’s a lot of small stuff that will snowball into habits, and then maybe routine. A good example is every day meals: When we come home, I cook us a meal while you unwind from a long day. Of course, I make a little extra for you. I’m always making a little extra for you. Gradually, a little extra becomes a normal amount. One day you think you could have just a little bit more, you know, to get a reaction out of me. Of course, I’m not one to let you down, so I make yet another large portion. Once you finish more than your fair share, you lean back exposing your belly. This is when it strikes me just how much your appetite has changed, and I can hardly hold back how much it excites me. Knowing you, you’d probably deny me no matter how much I beg. I’d climb on your lap so you could feel how hard I am. You could see how visibly flustered I am grinding on your bloated tummy. You would insist that I just sit there as you play with it. This is where you begin to realize that you’ve really gotten softer. You feel the weight of your belly move under your hand. It squishes so easily, yet it is so heavy. It’s a new kind of soft. You can brush your hand between your top and bottom roll, which are coming in distinctly now. In some way it’s evidence of all the little things I treat you with. You find that if you push it up towards your chest, and then release it, it jiggles back and forth longer than ever. You also notice that I can’t possibly contain myself anymore. I’m biting my lip and staring at you as you explore yourself. The area around my cock is thoroughly soaked. I’m trying so hard to just get a touch of your body, yet you force me to keep my hands to myself. Only then, you get an even better idea. You ask me to stand up from the couch and walk into the kitchen. Do as you say frustrated, but obedient and stand in the kitchen where we have plain view of each other. I watch you slowly reveal the rest of your soft body. You struggle to pull off your pants, your thighs are wider than I realized. As you finally kick them off, I notice you are taking up much more of the couch cushion. You pull off your shirt and hear me whimper from the sight of you. At this point all I want is to jump on top of you and fuck. You’re beginning to realize what control you have over me. You look me in the eyes and say “I want dessert.”, as you start masturbating in front of me. I’m trying as hard as I can to focus on making you a sundae but you keep having to remind me. I am so fixated in watching you please yourself, watching you shake and moan. Force me to continue several times, until eventually I finished. I’m holding this bowl with a warmed brownie, topped with ice-cream, topped with whipped cream, topped with sprinkles and I am squirming unbearably. You stop pleasing yourself for a second just tug on my shirt. I pull it off, and look me in the face. You’ve never seen me so disheveled. You didn’t know that someone could be so obsessed, and here I am, obsessed with you. At this point you decide you’ve done enough of the work and you say “Switch! But no chub touches!”. I hand you the bowl, and start fingering you. You can tell I’m in love with being able to touch you at this point. You can feel me respond to your every little moan between bites. You make me watch you eat spoonful after spoonful. After you swallow an especially large bite, you feel me go deeper into you and curl my fingers. Your entire body is filled with ecstasy as I continue to scarf down larger bites. After you scrape the bowl clean, you figure you’ve made me wait long enough and you let me give your distended belly light touches and squeezes. I pour over every little inch of you. You widening thighs, your softer arms, your every crease. I gently run my finger tips across the bottom of your belly saving the moment. I give it a little nudge and my mind Is broken by how much heavier you are getting. Your belly gently brushes your lap, even though you are leaning back because of the huge meal inside you. I want so fucking badly to give the soft bottom roll a squeeze but I need to make sure it isn’t too hard. When I finally give it a light grip, and feel my hand sink into your fat, I let out soft cry and cum while cuddled next to you.

Isn't this the real comparison we should be making?