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Trying to get back into writing, decided to insert myself into a little short story. Let me know if I should write a part two! ---------------------- "We need to get you something to eat..." If you only knew what that sentence did to me. "Come on, Ri, sit. I'm going to find you something." the distant concern in your voice brings me back into my body and to the realization that you're saying I've had too much to drink. My body sways a bit in my seat, I'm unsure if it's rocking under my weight or if I'm just that far gone. "Something warm. Preferrably salty.." I say, but you're mostly out of earshot, already swallowed up by the crowd of our peers. I don't usually come to company events but you asked if I was coming, so here I am. In a flashy, cleavage-baring top I spent entirely too much on and a pair of tights that I cannot wait to peel off of myself. Or have you peel off of me? I blush at my own thoughts, alone at this table, trying to remember if the drink in front of me is mine or not. Suddenly, a hand on the small of my back, you're placing a plate of small scoops of everything they had left at the buffet. "They are tearing down now... I just grabbed what I could." you say somewhat apologetically, sliding into the seat beside me. "It looks good." I smile at you, poking at a pile of mashed potatoes with my fork. "Thanks. I don't drink much." I admit, scooping the potatoes while being all too aware that you have neither a drink nor food in front of you. "You- you should go socialize." You smile at me and say nothing as you pass a long glance around the conference room of the hotel we have our company holiday party at every single year. Then you chuckle. "I spend 40 plus hours a week with these people, I don't have much else to talk to them about." I take a tenitive bite, your gaze returning to me just as I do. You look away and I am now hyper-aware of my features. My double chin, my chubby cheeks... I start to think about how you're seeing them and I set the fork down. "I'll eat when I get home." I say. Why did I say that? Why not just make a joke like I usually would. Steer the conversation as far away from me as possible like I do whenever I'm self concious. "Don't make me force you." It's obviously a joke but I am floored. Usually so quick, my mind is empty as I search for a quip to deflect. I am unsure if 3 seconds have passed or 30 as I stare at the lukewarm mound in front of me. I raise another mouthful, but it feels like what I imagine being in the last round of the national spelling bee might feel like. I'm in the hot seat and everyone is staring - except it's not everyone, it's just you. "Finish that and I'll find you dessert." your voice is softer now. There is a constant buzz of conversation around us, the occasional drunken laughing fit, but it all feels quite far away. I eat silently, deciding the only way is through in this scenario. I don't notice my bites getting bigger as I zone out, the food was so good and I avoided it earlier. I glance at you, your lips pursed and you're staring. I'm aware again. "I'm boring company, sorry." I aplogize meekly. "Says who?" I smile, but I'm confused. I finish the plate and drop my fork onto it, instinctively leaning back in my chair. I'm used to pushing the waistband of whatever clothing I'm wearing down and rubbing my round belly but I can't, so I'm unsure what to do with my hands. We sit in a moment of quiet again, I play with my hair nervously. "Dessert?" you ask. "I'm okay. Really. That was great." You lean forward in your chair, arm on the table, now leaning so much closer to me than you had been. How long have I been holding my breath? "I think you need it." your voice slightly above a mumble. "Okay." I stutter in response. I have a bad habit of reading into things but I don't think I am in the wrong here. You are the 'gym-before-work' kind. The black coffee guy. The half marathons just for fun type. Then why are the butterflies in my stomach telling me you're pressuring me because you like it? As you return with two plates, I'm relieved I won't be eating alone. You set them on the table and look visibly shaken. Maybe nervous? Definitely not the calm, collected and cool vibes you exude at work. You pull your chair next to mine again and encourage me to dig in. If this is what I think it is. I need to stop analyzing. So I take a rather gluttonous bite of tuxedo cake. I feel my cheeks full and chin wagging slightly as I chew. You are still tense beside me, fleeting darts of glances around the room. No one has looked in our direction. "These look tight." you say calmly right as I notice your fingertips on my waistband. I am sure I am red but I don't know how to respond except to nod and shovel another huge bite in my mouth. You gently tug and my belly springs out from the tights I'm wearing, though still hidden by my top. I gasped, I don't know how loud but I sit up straight to look at you. "There's so many people here, what are you doing?" "Everyone's wasted. Nobody's watching you stuff your face..." you smirk, hands back to yourself and you just watch me take another bite. "Except me. And I hope it's okay." I say nothing, staring at my plate with one bite left. You reach over and scoop it with your fork, but hold it up to my lips. "Be a good girl and take this bite from me." I oblige. You push the second dessert plate at me. "I'm actually starting to get full." I say, having just cleaned two plates in about 15 minutes. "I believe in you." you chuckle. I stab around the plate and take small bites, feeling full and embarassed that my stuffed belly is nearly hanging below my shirt. Your hand slides under and across the soft skin and I instinctively eat faster as a distraction. I finish my third plate and your hand slips away. You're flustered. I'm embarrassed.. but also turned on. You affectionately push my hair behind my ear, letting your hand graze the fat pad of my chin. "Good girl. Next time I hope we can do this somewhere a little more private."

Another short story as I sit and enjoy the last night of my time off from work.. —————————————————- By the time the ball dropped at midnight, I’d heard nearly every thin friend I have talk about their resolution to lose weight. In between bites of cheese from the charcuterie board and sips of the worst sparkling wine I had ever had, I’d nod and smile, excusing myself at the earliest opportunity. I’d invited them all here to celebrate the new year but the discussions were so one-note I was starting to regret inviting them at all. My mind wandered to thoughts of how I could be enjoying good food and better wine in bed with you instead. I hear you laughing at something someone said. “This is the year I keep it off!” “The last ten pounds is always the hardest but my friend from the gym told me about intermittent fasting…” “I’m trying keto again… it worked so well for my sister in law!” They would probably faint to hear I had to size up from a 24 to a 26 in the skirt I was wearing. I don’t think they would be capable of understanding the pure joy I got out of it, either. They had it all wrong, in my opinion. I felt for them in the way that they would never experience the bliss of letting go and letting the hedonism take over. How good it feels to have someone you love keeping your mouth full at all times just to admire how curvy and sexy you’re getting… my train of thought is interrupted by a hand on my lower back. “Did you know…” you murmur right into my ear, it would’ve startled me if your voice wasn’t nearly a hypnotic to me these days. “That there is almost 350 calories in one of the brownies on the tray that Amber brought?” I chuckle to myself and roll my eyes at you. “I didn’t know.” I say, amused by your tidbit of random information. “I know; because it’s all they are talking about outside. And I thought we spent a lot of time gushing about food..” you grin, I blush. “They are talking about how little of it they plan to eat next year,” I mutter, trying not to offend anyone, but also finding it so peculiar that they are so comfortable talking about the way their bodies looked in front of me. I’ve been the dedicated fat friend for awhile so maybe I just blend into the background sometimes. “I hope later we can discuss… at length… how much we plan on feeding you next year?” The inquiry makes me inhale sharply, blush more and dart my eyes to yours. I am glaring but you laugh, knowing I’m only annoyed because you know exactly how to turn me on in public. “You stop it..” I huff quietly. Your entire face is lit up in response, because there is only a few things you enjoy more than fucking with me. Your arm wrapped as best it can be around my waist, pulling me close and planting a kiss on my forehead, before leaning in directly to my ear. “Just say the word and we will go up to our room… I’m dying to have you stripped and stuffed full…” your words go through me like lightning bolts and I am instantly wet. I reach for your hand and take it. “I’ve been waiting for you!” I whisper shortly. I grab a box from the counter and start up the staircase, winded by the time we get up but you like hearing my laboured breathing so you stop at the top to kiss me. The door is barely shut behind me and your hands are on me, palms flat and gliding over my stomach, feeling the various curves and dips of the growing body you’ve worked so hard on for so long now. Your fingertips curl around the fat on my belly and jiggle it through the fabric of my skirt. “You know how much it turned me on to see you, unashamedly snacking in a circle of your skinny friends?” You pretty much growl, standing back to admire me while I tug my shirt over my head; breasts sitting atop one of the many rolls above my stomach. “You’re perfection.” “A work in perfection progress..” I joke with a smile, motioning to the box of sweets I collected earlier. My thighs sway as I walk to our bed, sliding onto it, kneeling at the edge towards you. You’ve selected a treat and walk over to me, pressed against me, reaching your free hand out to grip my chin and point my jaw up towards me. As I accept the treat into my mouth, eyes locked with yours, I feel you hard against me. I smile around the food and moan as I bite it. Every chew deliberate, tasting and savouring the sweet morsel. You make me finish it, running your thumb over my bottom lip and bending down to kiss me again. “Good girl. Now, let’s have you finish this whole box and I’ll make sure to fill you up another way…”

to view only my posts: click the magnify glass 🔎 below -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You guys requested a place where you could find all of my pictures so I'm gonna deliver that 🙂 but first, my feedee origin story: Like many others here on Curvage, I battled with body confidence for much of my life. One of my earliest memories is of my bestfriend's mom grabbing one of my fat rolls and mentioning my weight to my mother, which mortified me. My mom cooked many southern delicacies; fried chicken, fried pork chops, fried green tomatoes, mashed potatoes, cube steak, mac n cheese, it goes on and on.. I remember her replacing the water in our canned vegetables with butter so it was no wonder that I was a size 12 by age 12. My weight gain continued throughout middle school and early high school but I fell into an abusive relationship with an older man that lasted for 6 years. I lost a substantial amount of weight due an eating disorder and his treatment. My lowest weight was when I was living with him. At the time, I felt so fucking fat. I didn't realize that I was just very sick from being around such a controlling man. When I was dating him, I was allowed certain freedoms, such as friendships. I would play xbox all day and this is where I met my future roommate. It took forever to actually plan the whole thing out but in 2016, I left. Never to see my ex again. He spam called me for a couple days before I got a new phone number entirely. I won't pretend that I wasn't an emotional wreck after 6 years of prolonged abuse but I spent a long ass time in therapy, talking about what happened. It doesn't define me at all, I am not here to talk about domestic violence, to seek pity, etc etc. I just want to be transparent about my weightloss, weight gain, and why I am currently here now. Let's fast forward to 2018. I'm 22, super shy, and just moved to a city that accepts nudism. I started visiting bare beaches in 2021, only wearing a face mask. I was nervous but quickly gained confidence in my body. Little did I know the way I felt about myself was about to change completely though. The more I went to these beaches, the more free I felt in my body. The more willing I was to walk around in front of other beach goers, the more willing I was to get up and dance when I played music. By the time of the Summer, I was taking bare hikes in the woods, running, by the lake, and actually hugging other bare people. In 2021, I met my first feeder and they opened the door to the feedism community for me. In the past, people only ever encouraged me to be smaller, to workout, to lose weight. I never in my life experienced someone wanting the opposite. It did something to me, making me feel a way I never felt before. However, they our lives took different directions but since meeting them, I haven't been able to close the door on feedism. Over the past year, I have learned a lot about the fetish and how I feel about each aspect of it. There is a lot to discover and my journey has been very interesting to say the least. My goal now at 27 is to continue to overcome my food insecurities and to eat as much as I can without caring about what anyone think. I have many exciting events, adventures, and trips happening in 2022 and this is only this beginning of my career here at Curvage. If you're here now, you must be invested in getting to know me about me, so please stay up to date by following my thread. I'm going to post tons of photos in here AND only here from now on!! You are not going to want to miss out! Progress images: