clip request: Background:

You are the new wife of a king in ancient times. He has chosen you to be his wife because of your extreme beauty; but he has a secret. This king likes his women to be BIG - as huge as heifers, with the bodies to match.

Setting:

This scene will take place soon after you and the king have been wed. You are preparing to go to leave on your honeymoon with the king later that evening. The first sh*t opens on you in a room with a full length mirror, table, and chair. Wearing a sundress (or something similar that covers your belly and accentuates your curves), you are getting yourself ready. Checking makeup in the mirror, seeing how you look in your outfit, etc. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you say.

Your feeder walks in with a platter of food (it could be anything you like, so long as there is alot of it!) and places it on the table.

“Oh, my dinner has arrived!” you continue. “I’m not too hungry, but I guess I could eat. You know us big girls!”.

You sit down to the food and begin to eat. “The king sure has been feeding me well ever since we married” you say aloud. “At this rate, I’ll be the size of a cow by the time our honeymoon is over!”

You continue to eat, starting to slow as the food rapidly disappears from your plate and into your mouth. Throughout the stuffing, make comments about how full you are feeling, and rub your belly to ease some of the pressure on your gut. Things like “I’m getting so full, I could burst!” and “I’ll be popping out of this dress in no time if I’m not careful”.

The scene then cuts to you sitting at the table with your plate empty, rubbing your stuffed belly. “Wow, that sure was filling. I don’t think that I could eat another morsel.”

At that, your feeder comes in with 2 jugs of weight gain shake, and a feeding funnel.

“Oh no!” “You exclaim. “I am much too full to eat anymore. My poor tummy is groaning already!”

He motions for you to stand up, and you do. With your dress covering your belly and standing in profile view of the camera, he loops a measuring tape around your expansive waistline. He reads out the measurement, then gently pokes and prods your belly, checking to see how full you really are.

“You still have room in this belly, Queen” your feeder remarks. “The king needs you filled to the brim at every meal if you are to remain his wife.”

“But I really can’t take anymore!” You protest, pleading while rubbing your tummy. “There’s no way that I’ll be able to fit anything else in this gut!”

“Then I’ll just have to help” your feeder replies.

At that, he grabs you roughly and you to sit back into the chair. Grabbing your arms, he ties them behind your back (or if the chair has arms, to those).

“Wha, what are you doing?” you stammer, fear flooding your face at this loss of control.

“The king wants a cow, and I intend to deliver him one” your feeder replies grimly.

He grabs the weight gain shake and slowly brings it to your lips. You shake your head and purse your lips, trying everything in your power to resist this unwanted meal.

“C’mon queen” your feeder teases. “Everyone knows that cows need their milk!”

At that, he pinches your nose. Your mouth reluctantly opens and he pours the thick creamy mixture down your gullet.

“Thats a good girl.” The feeder remarks. He places a hand on your tummy and gently rubs it. “I knew that you had room in this belly!”

He continues to feed you in this manner until the whole shake is gu plead “Please, I am going to burst. My tummy is truly at its limit. Haven’t I had enough?!”

The feeder rubs your belly again. “Hm, this belly is quite full. But there is room yet...its time to see how much this belly can REALLY take!”

At that, he pulls out a funnel and proceeds to funnel the second jug into your mouth. Your eyes grow wide in terror. How could you possibly fit anymore into your expanding belly??

While feeding you the second shake, your feeder continues to rub, poke, and prod your belly.

He could say things like “Getting a bit taut now” and “Somebody’s going to have a tummy ache!” All while you to guzzle down this second shake.

Once the second shake is gone, you roll your head back in abject misery. Task completed, the feeder unties you and proceeds to measure your prodigious gut again.

“Very good Queen. You’ve shown that you can handle what the king truly desires-for his wife to be fattened like a heifer at every opportunity!”

While you are still seated, he gives you a belly massage, as you wince in p*in complaining about your stuffed gut.

“Why did there have to be two shakes?” You moan. “My belly can barely handle one. I’m bloating and cramping all over!”

“It’s so that next time, you can take three!” Your feeder replies. The camera then fades.

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