This is a fetish fic, includes feederism and weight gain stuff dni if you're not into it !!!
Where Miguel gets captured n force fed, includes funnel feeding, NSFW just gross in general lmao enjoy
He crouched atop a rooftop, watching a facility below. He had received a tip that there was someone conducting dangerous experiments on innocent citizens, and he was determined to gather evidence to expose their crimes.
The night was shrouded in darkness, with only the occasional flicker of neon signs casting eerie glows across the cityscape. Miguel's heightened senses allowed him to detect faint murmurs from within the compound. He knew he had to proceed with caution.
Silently, he descended to the ground and made his way through the complex's labyrinthine corridors. His advanced suit granted him enhanced vision, allowing him to see clearly in the dimly lit corridors.
Miguel was on high alert, but as he reached what appeared to be a secure lab, a blinding flash of light engulfed him. He cried out in pain as searing energy surged through his body. It was a trap.
Disoriented and weakened, Miguel tried to fight back, but the room was filled with guards clad in high-tech suits. They immobilized him with energy restraints that sapped his strength.
With their mission accomplished, the guards swiftly moved in, securing Miguel to a sturdy chair in the center of the room. Thick, unbreakable restraints bound his wrists and ankles, rendering him powerless. His enhanced senses, once his greatest asset, were now a cruel reminder of his vulnerability.
One figure emerged from the shadows, a sinister smile on her face. A brilliant but morally bankrupt scientist, she had developed technology capable of nullifying Miguel's powers and had long been obsessed with capturing him.
"Welcome"her voice was just as hypnotic as her gaze. "You're here just in time for the experiment"
Miguel's muscles tensed as he strained against the restraints, his frustration growing with each passing second. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever help you with your sick experiments!"
She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with a twisted sense of excitement. "You see, you have no choice in this matter. And who knows, perhaps you'll even come to enjoy the experiment. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." The scientist chuckled, her fingers tapping on a sleek, futuristic device resting on a nearby table.
A sense of unease crept over him as she continued to speak. Her words were cryptic, hinting at a twisted agenda that sent shivers down his spine.
"I have studied the human mind extensively. And I believe I have found a most intriguing pathway to one's desires," She mused, her tone dripping with malicious intent.
The scientist motioned to her guards, who brought in a peculiar-looking device.
It consisted of a large cylindrical container, filled with a thick, creamy liquid. His eyes narrowed as he recognized its potential implications, and despite the surreal nature of the situation, the liquid's decadent aroma made his mouth water involuntarily.
Connected to the container was a long, flexible tube, its surface cold and slick to the touch.
The container itself was adorned with a series of dials and knobs, displaying the ominous power that she had over the flow of the liquid. He knew that once those dials were turned, there would be no going back. He would be subjected to the scientist's cruel experiments.
"Allow me to introduce you to my newest creation" She said with a sinister smile. His heart sank, realizing the predicament he was in.
With a swift motion, she fastened a strap behind his head, securing the tube in place. His lips wrapped around the tube, stretching slightly to accommodate the device. Panic surged through him as he realized that his protests were falling on deaf ears.
"Please, don't do this," he pleaded, he voice muffled by the tube.
The room fell silent, the only sounds being the rhythmic pumping of the liquid through the tube and his labored breathing.
As the minutes ticked by, his resistance waned, and his senses grew increasingly disoriented. The combination of the liquid's taste and the mounting pressure in his belly began to wear down his willpower.
As the experiment pressed on, Miguel found himself forced to keep up with the relentless speed of the machine. The thick, creamy liquid flowed steadily through the tube, and he had little choice but to gulp it down as quickly as it arrived. This left him breathless and unable to mount any meaningful protest.
The taste, initially strange and unfamiliar, had evolved into something oddly satisfying. It was a peculiar blend of sweetness and richness, reminiscent of melted ice cream. He couldn't deny that he was growing accustomed to it, and with every swallow, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of craving. It was as though the taste had become addictive, compelling him to keep drinking despite the unsettling circumstances.
He couldn't help but steal a look at his own body, and his eyes widened in shock. Miguel had always been in impeccable physical condition.
His suit, which had once hugged his form with precision, now appeared stretched and taut across his midsection. His normally flat and toned abdomen had swollen slightly, causing his belly to protrude more than usual, it was distinctly different from his usual athletic physique.
A flush of warmth spread across his cheeks, and he tried to ignore the unusual and, at times, arousing sensations that were coursing through him.
He found himself increasingly frustrated with his own inability to resist the strange allure of the situation. Miguel had always maintained his composure, but now, he felt like he was losing control, both physically and emotionally.
With renewed determination, he attempted to pull away from the unyielding restraints once more. However, this time, the bonds dug into his noticeably bloated belly. The pressure against his expanding midsection, combined with the sensation of the liquid inside him sloshing around, sent an unexpectant surge of heat through his body.
A low, involuntary whine escaped his lips, and he felt his belly resting on his lap now, lightly brushing against his crotch. He couldn't help it, his hips instinctively bucking in search of any semblance of relief.
The scientist couldn't resist the opportunity to taunt and tease Miguel as he sat helplessly restrained in the chair.
She circled him slowly, her hair cascading like a dark curtain around her. Her slender fingers traced a maddeningly slow path along his arm, sending a shiver down his spine.
He shifted and writhed in his restraints, his movements becoming increasingly erratic as he sought to alleviate the strange tension building within him
The sensation coursing through his body had become overwhelming, and his heavy, swollen belly, pressed firmly against his cock, seemed to beg for attention.
The scientist leaned closer, her voice, as hypnotic as it was malicious, whispered in his ear with a seductive undertone. "You're so strong, so capable," she continued, her voice dripping with condescension, "And yet, here you are, stuck in a chair, grinding against your own belly. How pathetic"
She trailed her fingers down his chest, before reaching out and gently lifting his chin with her slender fingers, coaxing him to look up at her.
"Tell me, Miguel," she whispered, her lips just inches from his, "Are you really that desperate?"
The scientist, fully aware of Miguel's inability to respond with the tube still in his mouth, leaned in closer, her lips curling into a sinister and knowing smile.
"You are, right? Look at you," she cooed, her fingers lifting his softened belly slightly, revealing a damp spot on his clothes, "Seems like you've been enjoying my experiment a little too much"
His response was immediate and instinctual. Despite the humiliation of his situation, he couldn't deny the strange allure of the scientist's touch. He leaned into her touch, pressing his bloated belly against the palm of her hand, seeking more of the strange sensations she was provoking.
The tension that was building in Miguel's tummy was undeniably one of arousal, a potent and almost intoxicating sensation that pulsed through him with each teasing touch from the scientist.
"¿Te gusta esto?" she purred, her fingers tracing patterns on his bloated belly.
Miguel, still unable to speak as the liquid continued to be pumped into him, could only nod in response, his cheeks burning with a mixture of arousal and humiliation as he struggled to find a comfortable position.
She decided to give him a little break, and a faint, wet sound echoed in the room as the tube came free from his mouth.
Miguel, his lips now free from the tube but still feeling the lingering effects of the experiment, couldn't help but pout, letting out a soft, needy whine. The abrupt interruption of the experiment left him frustrated and confused.
The scientist, momentarily taken aback by his reaction, felt a flicker of surprise. Her usually steely demeanor softened, and she couldn't help but ask if he wanted more, her voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity.
"Yes, please"
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i think a big part of the magic of speak now is that it's such a perfect coming of age album.
if fearless is an unabashed celebration of teenagehood, speak now perfectly encapsulates those first, tentative steps taken into adulthood and every complicated and messy feeling that comes along with it. fearless leaves us with the promise that things will change -- speak now says: now things are changing, and i don't know what to do about that.
it's an album that struggles with growing up, with becoming independent. the tension at the heart of speak now is between the reckless optimism of youth and the ruthless cynicism of adulthood, and the struggle to reconcile the two. how to grow up but still maintain your idealism. how to stay hopeful but still mature.
the album opens with all these fantasies: mine is a song about idealizing a future with someone that doesn't yet exist, back to december idealizes a past love that never got the chance to see the future, speak now fantasizes about breaking up a wedding for some idealized future. but almost every fantasy on speak now has a reality check that ruins it. "my mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea," is romantic in sparks fly, but turns into a regretful "i should've known" in dear john, and those same sparks, the ones that spun out a whole fantastical future in mine, turn into the bitterness of how "i used to think one day we'd tell the story of us, how we met and the sparks flew instantly." the fantasy of mean is that "someday i'll be living in a big old city" but the reality in never grow up is that "here i am in my new apartment in a big city, they just dropped me off. it's so much colder than i thought it would be."
the album is obsessed with the unexpected. "i never saw it coming, wouldn't have suspected it" on btr, "you and i walk a fragile line, [...] but i never thought i'd live to see it break" on haunted, "i never planned on you changing your mind" on last kiss. (which is one of the images we get over and over again on speak now: the parallel of changing minds and weather -- "minds change like the weather" in innocent, "you can plan for a change in weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind" in last kiss, "you paint me a blue sky then go back and turn it to rain, and i lived in your chess game but you changed the rules every day" in dear john, "i'd go back to december turn around and change my own mind" in back to december.)
because racing into things with that hopeful, idealistic optimism can only lead to surprise and heartbreak at how fast people can change their minds. it's why we get "i should've known" in dear john -- it's placing the blame on the self for being too optimistic, for not expecting the worst. the story of us breaks down all those fantasies from the early part of the album, telling us that the old optimism is gone: "i used to think" we'd tell the story of us, but i know better now. but still, we don't want to lose it completely. while we started out confident in the future in mine, enchanted is a song that *begs* us not to let the cynicism take over: "this night is sparkling, don't you let it go" and "please don't be in love with someone else" see the speaker almost desperate to hold on to the idea that a whole future could spring out of one moment, for a sign that the idealism of mine and sparks fly still exist. but all too quickly, we fall back into the pain of last kiss and haunted, we find ourselves once again reminiscing on when things were easier in innocent. growing up is hard; it's painful.
so it's beautiful that the album ends with long live: "hold on to spinning around, confetti falls to the ground, may these memories break our fall." we aren't fantasizing about our future in the big city, or racing into love without stopping to think about whether or not it's a bad idea. we're not begging a crush to hold on to the night we met, or promising an ex that we'd love them right if we could do it again. by the time we get to the end of speak now, we're looking backwards. instead of holding on to a yet unrealized future, we're holding on to the one thing we know to be true: our memories. the one future we're sure of this time? it's not love, it's not the big city, it's not even life. the one thing we're sure of is ourselves. that we will be remembered.
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