Feeder Erotica Mega Collection

By Irma Marazza

This 30,000 word collection contains 6 stories of sexy feeder erotica. Read at your own risk!

All of Irma's feeder stories are now together in a single mega collection! This epic anthology contains the complete Becoming Plus Sized Trilogy as well as all three parts of Special Agent Plus Sized. If you love feeder erotica, then you won't want to miss this epic collection!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Winters-Marazza Publishing
• Release date: Jul 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310649820

Book preview

Feeder Erotica Mega Collection

Irma Marazza

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Winters-Marazza Publishing

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Table of Contents

Becoming Plus Sized 1

Becoming Plus Sized 2

Becoming Plus Sized 3

Special Agent Plus Sized Part 1

Special Agent Plus Sized Part 2

Special Agent Plus Sized Part 3

.

Becoming Plus Sized Part One

Okay. Okay. Yep. Yep. No problem. Fine. Fine. Bye

Meredith sighed in exasperation as she hung up the phone. For the fifth time in a row, she had been rejected from another gig. When she started out as a fresh-faced eighteen year old, modeling had come easy. There hadn’t been enough hours in a day to do every modeling contract she had been offered. But she turned 25 and suddenly, the work dried up. It was like women in their mid-twenties became invisible to agents and photographers. Still, the tall, thin blonde wasn’t exactly broke. Meredith, despite being a model, went against the stereotype. She was intelligent and financially saavy. Unlike many of her compatriots, who frivolously spent their money on cars (in New York City no less!) or rented overpriced, swanky apartments in midtown (why do single girls need two bathrooms!) Meredith saved and invested her money wisely, and lived frugally—or at least as frugally as you could in NYC.

I still want to model! The girl thought to herself. I can’t be retired at 25!

After so many rejections, however, it was starting to look like she might not have a choice. Her phone’s chime broke her brooding. Meredith looked down at it. It was Sarah, a modeling friend of hers.

Hey! I have a shoot down in your neck of the woods! Want to grab lunch afterward? The text read. Meredith responded in the affirmative. She could arrive at her friends shoot early and show her face a bit. Sometimes gigs came around just be being seen. You never know what could happen. A few quick texts back and forth confirmed the details, and Meredith was soon in the bathroom showering and picking out clothes.

An hour later the blonde model walked through the entrance to the studio. The shoot had since wrapped up, and another appeared to be starting. Meredith quickly spotted Sarah, a rail-thin brunette.

Hey! Meredith squealed in excitement.

Hey you! Her friend responding, embracing her in a hug.

How’ve you been, Mere? What’ve you been up to?

I’ve been okay. I turned 25 and all of the sudden, work has been drying up. It has been crazy.

Oh, honey, that’s terrible! It was easy for Sara to say, she was all of 22. She had three long years of modeling ahead of her.

Well, at least you’re not one of the fat girls. Sarah gestured inward, toward the studio. Sure enough, it was a plus-sized model shoot. The girls ranged from curvy to dangerously obese. Meredith had heard that the industry was growing. As more and more Americans grew heavy, the demand for models that could show plus-sized fashions increased.

Meredith and Sara smiled as they looked out at the girls. Meredith didn’t fault them for their appearance. After all, she had to work extremely hard, even dangerously hard, to maintain her slender body. The real problems with nearly every girl, was that they had no clue how to model. The seemed to not understand the photographer’s instructions, how to work around the lighting, how to even wear some of the clothes. Meredith was shocked that these girls were paid models. Sarah suppressed a giggle.

Oh, come on, Meredith chided, You wish you could be as big as them. You wouldn’t have to live off salads and bean sprouts. You could eat real food

Oh I do, Sara responded, But they are so clueless! It’s like they’ve never seen a camera before!

Meredith concurred as the pair turned and walked out the door. But as they walked down the crowded New York street, Meredith’s mind was still back in the studio. Gears had started turning. She might have a career after all.

As she and her friend picked at their overpriced salads, Meredith began to think about the models at the studio.

So, have you seen a lot of heavier models like that? Meredith asked innocuously.

Oh, yea! Sarah replied, They have requests up everywhere. Just about any loser off the street can get work as a plus sized model.

Meredith chose her words carefully. I wonder if they…have trouble…finding experienced models.

Sarah seemed not to pick up on her friend’s implication. I’m sure they do. I mean, what self-respecting model is going to do plus sized modeling!

The two girls shared a laugh. Inside, Meredith wasn’t laughing at all.

That afternoon, Meredith called her agent. Just to see if plus sized gigs paid like regular gigs. They could. Meredith knew what she had to do.

As a model, she had spent a lifetime fighting to be thin. She had spent so long counting calories, living off salads and cottage cheese, that she had almost no idea how to become fat. Undeterred, she went to the grocery store. Grabbing at the shelf, she threw chips, ice cream, cake, and candy into the cart. She hadn’t eaten any of these foods in years. She was grasping in the dark. Meredith, and her cart laden with food, got into line.

It’s nice to see a girl in this city in touch with her vices. A voice from behind her said. She turned.

I’m used to seeing girls here buying rabbit food. Organic, gluten-free rabbit food. The man behind her was smiling jokingly. Brown eyes sized her up behind thick-rimmed glasses. A heavy pea coat wrapped around him, a light, trimmed beard framed his bony face. He stood a few inches taller than Meredith, looking slightly taller thanks to his hair, a darkish brown that he styled back, adding another half inch to his height. Late twenties. Maybe thirty. He was an attractive, if somewhat typical, New Yorker.

I’m trying to gain weight. Meredith stated flatly, only realizing she should be embarrassed after she had spoken.

That is definitely not a common response. The man quipped.

I’m...trying to break into plus-sized modeling. Meredith replied. She could not think of a lie that sounded more respectable than the truth. Nonetheless, admitting defeat in conventional modeling made her sound like an unattractive failure. Again, she realized this after having spoken. The man seemed not to judge her.

Wow. I’ve never heard of that. Did you do umm...conventional modeling before? His interest seemed genuine, but Meredith was starting to grow self-conscious.

Yea. I am. Or was. Or whatever. She smiled slightly, embarrassed.

The cashier was ringing her items as he continued, I don’t mean to embarrass you. I’m a writer. Freelance mostly. I think there is some potential in your story. I mean, a model who has to gain weight to work. It could be a positive body-image story.

Meredith regarded him curiously. In her line of work, positive-body image was a euphemism for too-fat-to-model. Or couldn’t-stay-skinny. She secretly thought that was all crap. Still, this writer didn’t strike her as exploitive, or at least, excessively so. Any press was good press. If nothing else, he was cute. Meredith decided she would see where this would go.

The pair walked down the street. Their breath turning to smoke in the night air.

So what have you written before?

"A lot of freelance garbage. But I