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slugowl

Curvage Model
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slugowl last won the day on March 31 2016

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About slugowl

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  • Birthday March 31
  • Location Atlanta, GA, United States

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  1. If that is your pic with the balloons.......very sexy and alluring:)

  2. SHORT STORY: Gwennie-bee

    I'm not quite sure how it notifies people of blog posts (or if it even does) and wasn't able to go back and edit the typos in this. I'll just be more careful next time prior to posting. But thank you!
  3. Hello lovelies. :wub:

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    1. Krounos Demetrios

      Krounos Demetrios

      This is one of your sweetes pictures. Your well fitting bra is looking so amazingly great and your body is the body of a goddess of fertility. Just great.

    2. S77

      S77

      Great photo 

  4. hey just stopping by to say hi. how did you "win the day"?

    1. slugowl

      slugowl

      Whoops, just saw this. At least I already answered elsewhere! 

  5. SHORT STORY: Gwennie-bee

    NOTE: This piece does have a sex scene and speaks briefly of depression and suicidal tendencies. If for some reason you do not wish to read that, then don't continue with this piece of literature. Gwennie-bee It started with Krispy Kreme. Half a dozen. No, not the crummy glazed only doughnuts, but the good stuff. Creme, custard, chocolate with sprinkles. Stuff with personality and flair. I already thought Gwen was beautiful, but something about a smudge of chocolate on the corner of her lips always made me swoon a little more than usual. After work I'd make a point of joining Gwen at her apartment with a box of doughnuts in hand. Forget sharing -- I knew I'd get my hand ripped off if I even tried. We'd known each other for around eight years and I already knew her favorites. If she was having a bad day, skip the doughnuts and go straight to a large hot chocolate and several containers of doughnut holes. Smaller and easier to fit multiples in your mouth at once. We'd curl up on the couch and watch whatever movie she wanted while she chowed down on them. She had the silkiest hair; it always reminded me of the Blue Fairy from Pinnochio -- golden and angelic. It was like some special treat to be allowed to brush the golden locks. Bright blue eyes and plump, rosy cheeks. To me she was a dream. I knew she had issues with her self image, but tried to not push the subject one way or the other. Rather than have her dwell on such things, I'd nudge her in the side and offer her whatever delectables might be nearby. "Come on, Gwennie-bee. Let's get out of here." With a quick munch of something to take the edge off, we'd be out the door and on our way to either the nearby park or to the arcade. While I might love the sounds of birdsong, Gwen was most at ease with the music of Pacman or DDR in the background. She was always too shy to dance, but loved watching me in front of the screen. She said my feet moved quicker than lightning. Even though she said she'd never join me, I noticed her feet bouncing along to the rhythm as I danced. It gave me a weird sort of peace. I hated leaving her at night. I could see the brightness in her eyes dim when we'd part ways at the front door. She worked from home and, other than myself, only really interacted with others online. It was our time face-to-face that really brought her the closeness I could tell she craved. During the eight years I'd known her, she'd gone from a cute little round thing of maybe two hundred pounds to a voluptious goddess of four hundred. Even though I knew it pained her to look in mirrors, I found myself making up any excuse I could for selfies with her. I genuinely enjoyed having photos of us together, but I can't deny that getting to see those adorable chipmunk cheeks was a wonderful way to end a night away from her. Around the third year I'd known her, I gave her the nickname Gwennie-bee. Though I've insisted multiple times that bees do not count as animals, she still calls them her favorite one. I've since bought her an army of bumblebee plushies, blankets adorned with the fuzzy bumblers, and even endured the horror that is the Bee Movie at least once a year. She doesn't seem to actually like the film, but we enjoy getting drunk and making fun of it together into the wee hours of the morning. If three a.m. hits and neither of us are tired, we stumble drunkenly into the kitchen together to make mac-n-cheese and bake cakes. She loves Funfetti. It looks so simple until you cut it open and see all the bright colors underneath. "It's unassuming," she said, "because you never know just what is on the inside." In my mind, I wonder if she really means the cake or herself. If anything described Gwen's personality, a rainbow would probably be it. With her wide range of emotion, she was hardly boring and no adventure was ever truly the same as the last. I've been there with her through fad diets and when those diets crashed and burned. I've been with her through the adoption of a kitten and with her when they had to put the little guy to sleep after he was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. I've been at her side when her cunt of a mother told her men would never find her beautiful enough to marry if she didn't lose weight. I grabbed her hand outside of her mother's vision and gave it a squeeze. I told her mother I thought Gwen was beautiful and received a reply of rolled eyes. "Gay men don't get to say such things." I'll let her believe I'm gay as long as she likes, but really I've just been enjoying my time at her daughter's side. It's never felt like the right time to push forward and, honestly, I'd much rather just have her be happy. If that means I can only sit and watch on the sidelines, I'll happily accept it. Gwen will sometimes call me with tears choking her. It will be so late in the night that it's early with the sidewalks littered with suspicious individuals and cops patrolling the streets half-heartedly. I'm not sure if they'd come to my aid even if they saw me being mugged, to be quite honest. She'll ask if I can come over and hesitantly tell me that The Darkness is back. I don't ask questions and I don't care for my own safety. I powerwalk through the dark streets past sleeping homeless figures on benches and make my way up the flights of stairs to her apartment door with frozen pizza in hand. We'll curl up together close on the couch while the food bakes in the oven and I console her as best I can. It always breaks my heart to hear her crying, but this is something more. I've never struggled with my own suicidal urges, but I know the kiss of depression all-too-well. I'm no fool: I know a love confession won't bring her back from the edge, but I sometimes hope that it might curb the feeling if I were to do so. Still I hold back, brushing the golden strands of hair from her face and gently wiping the tears from her soft cheeks. "Don't cry, Gweenie-bee. You'll get tears in your ears." After a few slices of pizza and a bit of tender love and care, she'll perk up. I'll sleep on the couch and jump up at the slightest sound of unrest from her bedroom. I either go in late to work or call out entirely. I have a life outside of her apartment, but it isn't very exciting. Business conversations, flashy suits, expensive ties, snobby women who think they're God's gift to women in their skin-tight pencil skirts when I actually just inwardly shudder at the mental image of their visible ribcages. Gwennie has not only been enough for me, but more than. Her blue eyes alight with fire, like the hottest part of a flame, when she finds something she loves and is passionate about. She can sing better than any popular singer on the radio today and her voice puts me at ease after a long, stressful work day. She's an amazing baker, but not so great at cooking. Bless her heart, she tries to learn what I can teach her, but even a fried egg can end up burned in no time. So I let her handle cookies, muffins, and pies while I tend to simple bachelor meals like spaghetti, Ramen, maybe the odd TV dinner here and there. She'll always out-eat me. If I have half a pizza, she'll finish it off and eat another whole box by herself. If I eat half a dozen doughnuts, she'll wolf down a baker's dozen. Sometimes I'm almost certain she's not even hungry -- more that she's just showing off and maybe also not wanting to share her favorites with anyone. Not even me. I'd never dream of taking her custard filled delectables from her. I try to stay quiet and relaxed in my seat when she behaves like this, but really I can't help but squirm as I watch her stuffing herself. Every pound brings her closer to a goddess in my eyes. I always wonder if I can bring myself to tell her this or if she'd even believe me. The last thing I'd ever want in this life is to hurt her, and with the life she's led I know it couldn't possibly be received well. Baggy dresses easily become skin-tight on her with slightly stretching seams and buttons screaming for mercy at their connection points. Skin-tight dresses become short skirts. I encourage her, albeit selfishly, to wear them as casual loungewear around the apartment when I visit. She obliges unwittingly and I get a cheap, free show for the evening. I mentally berate myself once I've left, but I can't help but be weak to those bulging thighs and the most plump, squishable calves on the planet. We hit nine years together as friends. The year has us enjoying playful cheek kisses beneath the mistletoe, playing gingerly in piles of leaves out in the public park, her finally learning to not burn a fried egg, and me finally convincing her to wear strapless dresses or anything with little-to-no sleeves. She no longer shies away from my outfit suggestions, though her explanation why is a bit discouraging. "You're the only one who visits me anyway. No one else will see me in this." It hurts because I think the world is missing out on this lovely vision before me, but that selfish dragon rears its head inside me and says how good it is to have her be mine alone. I enjoy walking behind her on the staircases on the way down. Hearing her pant for breath barely even a single flight down leaves me struggling to hide a raging boner as I lead her to our destination when we finally hit the bottom landing. I enjoy walking behind her even more for that enticing rocking rhythm of her hips and her protruding ass cheeks barely inches from my face. Times that a million fold if she's in a skirt or dress -- with fat rolls so large you can't even manage a true panty shot through all of them. I don't think it's ever crossed Gwen's mind that these are things I'd think or do in our day-to-day time together as she's never once viewed herself this way before. I've never viewed her as anything other than gorgeous and, as time has passed, that belief has only solidified. By year ten, I got another late night phone call. The choking tears on the other end of the line. I wasn't able to make out all of what she said to me, but I managed to cut her off and tell her I'd be there shortly. On the way out the door I grabbed a box of doughnuts we'd not finished the night before. Though a little stale, they'd be a suitable peace offering. Out on the sidewalk, I dodged puddles of liquid that I hoped were water rather than the piss of a homeless man. I waved awkwardly to a cruising police car outside her complex and hastily made my way upstairs. Even before I reach her landing, I can hear her sobs. They carry more weight than usual and when I gently rap at the door, she chokes out to me tht it's already open. I turn the knob and let the door swing inward, kicking it closed behind me as I take in the sight. She's sprawled mostly on the couch, but partially on the hardwood floor. Her knees look red, but they're nothing compared to her puffy eyes. The legs of the couch seem to have finally given out under her weight and it's led to Gwen having a nasty tumble onto the ground. Between her cries I can make out the words of her fear on what the lower neighbors must think when the fat whale nearly crashed through their ceiling and how she's lucky to not have broken through even the floor. Then she laugh-sobs and corrects herself -- perhaps she wasn't lucky. The spiel goes on until she wears herself out and I gingerly try to offer her the box of doughnuts. For the first time, I see her rage. I recognize it as self-hatred rather than being truly directed at me. "Get those the fuck AWAY FROM ME." They fall behind me under the coffee table and stop sliding across the wood when they hit the legs of it. I gingerly reach out to her. With no doughnuts in hand, she allows my hand to rest on her cheek. Her face is warm and flushed despite the thick caking of tears resting on her cheeks. Slowly, with my free hand, I scoop the two busted couch legs out of sight of her and kneel in front of her. "Gwennie-bee, hey..." I firmly force her head in my direction to look at me. "It's going to be alright." The stream of disagreements comes instantly. I let her speak for a few seconds before finally saying 'to hell with it' and leaning forward toward her. The silence that ensues as I kiss her is beyond deafening. She doesn't pull away from me, but I can't be certain that it's from shock or enjoyment. When I finally pull back, it's to see her eyes glistening with tears. Before I can say anything she whispers, "I think you should go." I stay knelt in the same position and wait to see if she'll say more. My silence and disobedience seem to bring her discomfort. Not from my presence, but because she can't decide how to respond to it. Finally, I break the silence. "You're the most beautiful woman, Gwen. I wish you could see it." She doesn't speak. Silent tears make their way down her cheeks, plastering escaped strands of hair to her face. I move to push them out of the way and she recoils for a moment before finally leaning into my touch. She seems uncertain. "Do you think I'm going to take advantage of you...?" I ask, pushing the hair aside so that I might read her expressions clearly. Her nod actually stings. "No one would look at me...at anyone...like this...and say those things..." her voice keeps cracking as she struggles to hold back sobbing. At long last, she meets my eyes, "Why...are you lying to me?" With a sigh, I reach behind me to move the doughnut box onto the table. I busy myself for longer than necessary with making sure its contents are alright and that the box is situated somewhere where it won't fall down. Taking a deep breath, I try to choose words carefully, "I've loved you for a very long time. I've loved so many parts of you, Gwen. From your precious snub nose to your overwhelming love of bees. Even though you have moments like this, you come out of it stronger the next day. You always surprise me, you always make me happy...you always have aroused me. What you hate so much, I've always enjoyed. Just...quietly." Silence. And then. "You're...not gay?" I'm so amused that my laughter is silent at first. Then It comes out in a torrent, all at once, choking me so that it ends in a coughing fit. When it's finally under control again, I notice that though her eyes look tired and weak from crying, there are no more tears forming. I try to find my voice and word things in the least piggish way I can. "Why do you think I suggested all those outfits over the last few years? Like tank tops -- your arms are probably one of my favorite parts on your body." The confusion passes over her face as she looks at her arms and the flab dangling from them. She has yet to look anything more than perplexed and drained. There's no energy in Gwen to truly fight the things I'm saying, so she resigns herself to quiet resignation. I can tell there's a lot she wants to say, but really there's only one thing I want an answer for in this moment. "Despite thinking I've been gay this whole time, how...have you felt about me?" She blinks. "You?" I run my hand back and forth across the back of my neck. "Am I...just a friend, or...have there been any feelings...? Ever?" Her nod is so slight that it can be almost registered as nothing at all. "I just...never made a move. Even if you weren't gay I've always been...this." She gestures helplessly to the busted couch beneath her, tipped sideways like the sinking Titanic. I feel a blush rising in my cheeks and shift myself to hide what might already be obvious. "You probably don't want to hear this, but...it's honestly really sexy. To me, at least." "It's sexy that my size ruins everything I touch?" she sounds defeated again. I move to try to sit next to her, ignoring the creaking sound of the couch beneath us. "No, it's sexy that your body has the strength to do something like that. It's gonna sound cheesy, but..." my hand returns to the back of my neck. A nervous habit I've never been able to drop. "I've always thought of you like a goddess. So if anything it just enhances the whole Goddess of Destruction vibe." It actually earns a chuckle, but I can see tears welling up again. "I don't think I believe you." I gingerly reach for hand and squeeze it. "If...you get uncomfortable, you can stop me. Okay?" She looks confused, blinking and releasing a couple more teardrops. They hang in her eyelashes like trembling diamonds. Even in this state she takes me breath away. Hair disheveled. Makeup from the morning streaked through by her crying. Her body squeezed into a too-tight dressing gown since she didn't anticipate company. I can see more rolls than usual in the barely-there garment she's wearing now. The curve of her belly is overwhelming, hanging over the edge of the couch cushions. I can see the peek of lovehandles through the thin fabric at her sides and I move my hand from the back of my neck instead to her back to feel the lumps of fat beneath that rest there. I pull her slightly closer to me but close the distance myself and kiss her again. The teardrops in her eyelashes pass from hers to mine as she flutters them in surprise. I feel her eyes close and she accepts the kiss, but her body is still tense. I pull back, waiting for a verbal response. Nothing comes so I lean in again, moving my hand up and down on her back to count the rolls beneath her gown there. Without even realizing it, my other hand has begun gripping at her belly and she pushes me away. I begin apologizing but she shakes her head. "I don't know for sure you aren't lying." I glance between her and the coffee table. "I...can maybe prove it to you, if you...trust me?" Rather than wait for permission that I know won't come, I lift open the dougnut box's lid and pull out one of the doughnuts nestled there. "Custard's your favorite, right?" A small nod eventually answers my question. I bring it to her lips and squeeze until custard oozes out the side. My free hand is already on her belly but she doesn't push me away this time. Honestly, anxiousness and fear has changed to intrigue. "Eat, Gwennie. It's okay." I gently smear the custard over her lips like an overly viscous lip gloss. She closes her eyes and submits to sensation rather than reason. The tension in her body seems to ease up and she leans into me. I let the momentum press the remainder of the doughnut into her waiting mouth while my hand grips at her belly a little tighter. I can feel my breath catching in my throat. I've dreamt of the moment often over the years, but honestly it never involved tears or broken furniture or having to traverse the city at night past suspicious wet puddles on the ground. But the moment felt right, especially with her hands no longer pushing me away but instead inviting me in. Her chubby fingers gripped at the front of my shirt and pulled me in towards her neck. My lips planted kisses and nibbles there. I could feel her holding back on moans, so I gradually bit into the skin harder while watching her peripherally finish eating the doughnut in my hand. I let a few moans of my own join hers as she licked my fingers clean. While still next to her ear I gave her the option one more time to stop this now. Her response was to grab another doughnut and place it in my hand. I lifted up to meet Gwen's eyes. It went from slow and unsure to passionate so quickly. Two doughnuts quickly become the entire box's contents. With nothing left to feed her, she sucks my sugary fingers clean. It leaves me panting animalistically against her ear as I press my body into her. She's SO soft, it's like I'm falling into a cloud. I try to explain this to her through words but instead my lips are on hers again and I'm tasting the sweetness on her tongue from the desserts I fed her. Though before she'd pushed my hands away, I now feel her shifting movement for a few moments before she reaches for my nearest hand and places it on her bare belly for me. I break the kiss long enough to look down and see her soft, smooth skin and my fingers vanishing into the yielding skin there. I make note of every stretch mark, every single mole, and smile at a birthmark I didn't even know she had. I try to move my hands to lift her entire belly up and let out a low growl at the realization of how heavy the flesh actually is. "How do you actually carry all of this around?" Gwen chuckles, but there is a bit of nervousness behind it. She's still unsure, but I know exactly what I want. I slide off the couch, which creaks again, and begin smothering her belly with kisses. I bury my face in the cushion-like flesh until I feel suffocated, my hands massaging on either side. Above me, I feel her moving around and glance up to see her remove her entire sleeping gown. If I knew a word stronger than mere 'goddess', I would utter it here. Soft, large breasts spill over a large roll of flesh that rests on top of her massive gut. My hands don't know where to travel first, especially when finally given permission after years of longing. They instead do an awkward, caressing dance over every inch of skin visible to my eyes. I grab and massage both breasts and once, moving down to her middle, and then tracing again the curve of her hanging belly before moving back up again. I'd lock eyes with her but she's got them firmly shut, squirming on her haphazard perch on the tilted couch. Eventually I end up undressed before her, letting my skin rest against hers, letting her own hands travel where they may and reveling in her touch at last. Without much though, I climb on top of her on the couch where we are barely warned by a creaking sound before the third leg snaps, lurching us forward as the last leg struggles to keep us aloft. With my face planted firmly between her breasts I begin laughing, though the sound is smothered in her fat. Gwen hesitates, torn between mirth and melancholy, but finally lets out a few giggles when my laughter doesn't cease. Once I'm calm I begin teasing her while straddling her as best I'm able. My movement silences her own giggles as they ease back into gentle moans. Her nails dig into my hips as she pulls me tightly against her. While most might find it annoying, I become even more stimulated by the fact that her gut is so large I can barely reach anything else. It's nearly impossible to maneuver around it and though I want to ask, I hold back, because she can't possibly be a mere four hundred pounds anymore. After some struggling that only make the moment better, I manage to get where I need to be and ride her awkwardly until we discover a rhythm that works for both of us. As we move I watching every part of her wiggle, jiggle, bounce, and whatever else describes that beautiful movement. Her breasts nearly smother her every time they bounce upwards. Her stomach continually smashes into me, nearly pushing me off her and nearly knocking the breath out of me. She manages to find a way to hold her stomach back to spare me a nasty spill while also holding onto the couch for dear life so we both don't go careening off the end. It's hard to tell who keeps moaning louder. We each try to shush the other when one of us gets too loud. She'll pull my head down to her breasts and force me to take a nipple into my mouth until I can calm down whereas I'll gently place a hand over her mouth and get a pleasant shiver as I feel her warm breath on my palm. Every thrust just leads me into soft, comfy bliss. Everything is warm and perfect and just as I'm ready to release we both let out a scream as the final leg gives out beneath us. Her laughter is instantaneous and I fall against her with tears of joy in my eyes as I try to control my laughing-fit. After we calm ourselves, I roll off her and sit at her side on the completely ruined couch. She shifts clumsily to rest against my bare chest, letting the reality sink in of what just happened and what it might mean for the future. "Is it still okay, Gwennie-bee?" I ask tentatively, this time moving hair from her face because of sweat rather than tears. Gwen considers for a moment before giving a very decisive nod. "It's okay." She looks up into my eyes. "Thank you for coming tonight. I didn't know who else to call." I bow my head to kiss her forehead. "I'm always here for you, Gwen. That's a promise." We remain still on the couch together until we fall asleep. *~*~*~*~*~*~* Author's Note: So, this is literally my first and only piece of literature pertaining to feederism. I write all the time and have for years and I'm a sucker for a good plot. Hopefully you don't find it dull, because a believable and relatable backstory means a lot to me. I write primarily fiction pieces, though generally on different topics. I don't often delve into erotica or any off-shoots of it. I decided to leave the main character's name blank in order to encourage that ability to slip into his shoes, so to speak. I'm normally really into name meanings, but for some reason my mind settled on Gwen for the female character and I couldn't shake it even though it has little to no in-depth meaning. Let me know if you enjoyed it and if you'd like more. <3
  6. PJ days are good days.

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    1. Show previous comments  4 more
    2. slugowl

      slugowl

      @salami101 Who told that I was a nerd?! 😂

    3. salami101

      salami101

      @slugowl😉😂I think we both should play à part in big bang theory. 

    4. Krounos Demetrios

      Krounos Demetrios

      Once more a super cute picture of your blossoming beauty.

  7. I'm feeling a little better. 😎

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    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. slugowl

      slugowl

      Thank you both. I'm glad to be able to use my nose again. 😂

    3. degek2001

      degek2001

      Lol, and you're a little bit rounder...

    4. slugowl

      slugowl

      @degek2001 lol I blame the steroids I had to take during my pneumonia to help keep my lungs wide open - I was still sick, but it made me eat non-stop. 😂

  8. Still somewhat sick, but I know this would help both of us feel better. 😚

     

  9. I had more video and photo ideas for Curvage Clips, but I've got pneumonia so it will be a while before I can get to them. I'm sorry for disappearing, but I will return soon. <3

    1. regbill

      regbill

      I hope you feel better soon.

  10. Balloon Booty Popping!

    Thanks you guys! It was way much more fun than I anticipated. I still have balloons left! I need to squash them. Hahaha.
  11. Pink & Purple

    Version 1.0.0

    Two photo sets in this purchase! The Purple set features me after I've managed to force myself into a too-tight dress. It was too-tight when I bought it, but I can't handle getting rid of it. I love how it squeezes and hugs every curve leaving hardly anything to the imagination. These photos clearly show why I call myself The Well-dressed Feedee. Classy, but sexy. The Pink set shows me having some fun with bubblegum and balloons in a see-through lingerie set. Playful and cute, but sexy as well. This pairs well with the Balloon Booty Popping Video also in the Curvage Clips store!

    $10.99

  12. Got a new video coming your way! And soon a couple of photo sets!  :wub:

    1. slugowl

      slugowl

      Just waiting approval, but everything is ready to go! (:

  13. Balloon Booty Popping!

    Version 1.0.0

    It's my first time trying this out, but it was a lot of fun, to say the least. There were a couple balloons that popped so suddenly under my weight that I wasn't prepared. I hope you enjoy watching me bounce around on them, because I had a lot of fun doing it. I pop four balloons in total, and I might just do another video of this soon! Note: Yes, I am chewing bubble gum.

    $4.99

  14. Preparing to sell a photo set on Curvage Clips! Going to wait until I have two separate sets to sell together. :wub:

    1. regbill

      regbill

      Congratulations!:)

  15. Is there a way to block people here? :/ Hate to do so, but I don't believe I have much choice. 

    1. sweetheartlou

      sweetheartlou

      also would like to know!

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