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MidReal Story
My Husband Fattened Me Up
Scenario:A story about a young couple and the husband starts feeding the wife and she gains weight eventually he starts stuffing her and funnel feeding her which she enjoys later on after she is really fat they have sex and she gets pregnant with octuplets her belly gets even bigger and she gets fatter.
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Emily Carter
Jack. She is initially slender but enjoys being fed by her husband, leading to significant weight gain. She is submissive, loving, and indulgent. Emily's relationship with Jack deepens as she gains weight, and she finds pleasure in being fed and cared for by him. Eventually, she becomes pregnant with octuplets, further emphasizing her growth and dependence on Jack.
Jack Carter
dominant, and attentive. Jack takes pleasure in seeing Emily gain weight and eventually becomes more aggressive in his feeding methods. His love for Emily grows as he watches her transform into a larger woman. He supports her through pregnancy with octuplets and continues to care for her as she grows bigger.
Lily Carter
caring, and nonjudgmental. Lily helps Emily adjust to her new lifestyle with Jack by providing advice on managing weight gain and pregnancy symptoms. Her presence adds a sense of normalcy to Emily's life despite the unusual dynamics between Emily and Jack.
When I first met my husband, I was a tiny thing.
I weighed about 100 pounds and stood around 5’2".
He liked to feed me though.
At first, it was just going out to dinner.
But soon, he started buying me treats and snacks and feeding me at home.
At first, I was self-conscious.
I didn’t want to get fat or get a belly on his account.
But he assured me it was okay and that he loved seeing me eat and enjoy food.
He told me that food was meant to be enjoyed and that I was too thin.
He liked the way I looked when I had a little meat on my bones.
So, I started eating more and not worrying so much about my weight.
He would make me breakfast in the morning and pack me lunches to take to work with me.
He bought me a desk fridge to store my drinks and snacks.
He wanted to make sure that I had enough to eat all day.
He would treat me to fast food on the weekends and fun desserts.
We started going out for dinner more often and having friends over for barbecues.
I started gaining weight slowly but surely.
My clothes began to get tight and I had to buy some new things in a larger size.
My husband was thrilled with my weight gain.
He told me how beautiful I looked with a little extra weight.
One evening, I was sitting on the couch when my husband came into the room with a tray.
He had all of my favorite treats and desserts on it.
His eyes were gleaming with excitement as he sat down beside me.
"I made your favorite," he said, offering me a spoonful of creamy pasta.
I took a bite and savored the taste.
It was so good.
I ate every last bite of it and then he gave me a piece of cake.
I ate that too.
He reached for another dish and I saw that it was baked mac and cheese, my favorite comfort food.
I ate that too.
He kept feeding me until I was stuffed full.
My belly was so full and round and I felt so happy and content.
His hand rested on my belly as he stroked it gently.
"Do you ever wonder why I love feeding you so much?" he asked, his voice soft but probing.
I looked at him, curious, "I always thought it was because you liked seeing me happy and well-fed."
He hesitated for a moment before replying, "It's more than that—it's about control, about making sure you'll always need me."
I looked at him, confused.
He leaned in closer, his fingers brushing against my arm as he handed me a small, white pill.
"This will help," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring.
I examined the pill, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
"What is it?"
I asked, glancing up at him.
"It'll increase your appetite and stomach capacity," he explained, his eyes locked on mine.
I hesitated for a moment before nodding.
I trusted him completely and knew that he would never do anything to hurt me.
So, I swallowed the pill with a sip of water and waited to see what would happen next.
My husband smiled at me, his eyes shining with approval.
"Good girl," he whispered, his voice full of affection.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "You'll be so full soon. And then we'll have even more delicious meals together."
I realized then that I was no longer just eating for pleasure; I was consuming to fill a void he had quietly created.
The next morning, my husband entered the kitchen with a determined look on his face.
He began making an enormous breakfast, complete with sizzling bacon, pancakes, eggs, and hash browns.
The aroma of the food filled the air and my stomach growled in anticipation.
He placed the feast before me and sat down beside me, his eyes gleaming with intent.
I devoured each bite, feeling my hunger being satiated.
But then, he brought out a funnel.
I knew what it was for and I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was ready for this.
But my husband reassured me, his voice gentle and soothing.
"Trust me," he murmured, gently positioning the funnel at my lips.
I allowed him to pour a thick milkshake through it, feeling the liquid stretch my stomach even further.
As the milkshake settled, I realized I had become a willing participant in his quiet obsession.
I sat at the kitchen table, watching my husband prepare another feast.
The sizzling bacon and freshly baked pastries filled the air with their mouthwatering aromas.
My stomach growled in anticipation, a sensation that had become all too familiar.
My husband approached me with a tray laden with food, his eyes gleaming with intent.
He set it down before me and began feeding me, each bite more indulgent than the last.
I savored every flavor, relishing the taste of the delicious dishes he had prepared for me.
When I was finished, he retrieved the funnel and positioned it at my lips.
I hesitated for a moment, but his reassuring smile encouraged me to continue.
He poured a thick milkshake down my throat, stretching my stomach even further.
As I swallowed the last drop, I realized I was no longer just his partner; I had become his creation.
The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the scene before me.
My husband was busy in the kitchen, humming softly as he prepared another extravagant breakfast.
I sat at the table, my belly growing rounder by the day.
He brought over a plate piled high with pancakes, dripping with sweet syrup.
I took a bite, and the sweetness exploded on my taste buds.
My husband watched me intently, his eyes never leaving my face.
After finishing the last pancake, he reached for the funnel again.
This time, he filled it with a rich chocolate shake.
As the liquid flowed down my throat, I felt a strange sense of anticipation building within me.
My husband leaned closer, his voice whispering in my ear.
"Soon, you'll be carrying more than just food."
I sat at the kitchen table, my belly pressing against its edge.
My husband moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing another feast.
The aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling sausages filled the air.
He placed a plate piled high with food in front of me, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
I ate slowly, savoring each bite as he watched closely.
When the plate was empty, he brought out the funnel again.
I hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, allowing him to pour a creamy shake down my throat.
As my belly expanded further, my husband gently caressed it, his voice murmuring softly.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room as I reclined on the couch, my belly comfortably full from the morning's indulgence.
My husband sat beside me, his hand resting possessively on my swollen stomach.
He whispered about our future, his words painting a vivid picture of the life we were building together.
As he spoke, I felt a flutter within me—a gentle reminder of the new lives growing inside.
His eyes lit up with pride, and he leaned down to kiss my belly tenderly.
"They're getting stronger," he murmured.
The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the dining table.
I sat there, my belly already uncomfortably full from the morning's indulgence.
My husband emerged from the kitchen, carrying another platter piled high with food.
His eyes gleamed with determination as he placed it before me.
"Eat," he urged, his voice gentle yet insistent.
I hesitated, feeling the tightness in my stomach, but his coaxing eventually won out.
I took a tentative bite, and then another, each mouthful adding to the pressure inside me.
Despite my discomfort, I continued eating, driven by my husband's unwavering encouragement.
When I could eat no more, he brought out the funnel once again.
I protested weakly, but he poured a thick shake down my throat anyway.
That evening, I lay on the couch, my body heavy and content.
My husband sat beside me, his hand resting on my swollen belly, tracing lazy circles with his fingers.
"You're doing so well," he murmured, pride evident in his voice.
I nodded, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and anticipation.
He leaned closer, his voice taking on a gentle, soothing quality.
"Imagine it, Emily. A family. A big, happy family. Filled with love and laughter."
As he spoke, I felt a sudden flutter within me—a gentle kick from the life growing inside.
His eyes widened with delight, and he kissed my belly tenderly.
