Fae Feeder

any pronouns - 26 - chicago - sapphic - dancing around campfires, sharing stories, resisting empire and helping cute girls get fat

[fae-feeder]

She's full and high on the couch and I'm straddling one fat thigh with her nipple in my mouth absolutely losing my mind

[extra-stout-stories-deactivated]

Reblog if you're into soft XWG. Wholesome-but-extreme, extreme-but-wholesome. Scalebreaking weights celebrated with praise and caresses. Playful flirtation during gigantic all-day binges. Extreme sizes as an opportunity for tender caretaking. The warmth and intimacy of getting really fucking fat.

Often it seems like the line of division is between option 1, wholesome soft feedism with plump round tummies, and option 2, extreme weight gain and supersizes accompanied by degradation and shaming kinks. Neither of these are "wrong" ways to fantasize (as long as option 2 doesn't involve real life fatphobia), but I'm a fan of option 3.

[lilcowzia]

this is something i think about allllll the time! i tend to avoid soft feedism content because sometimes it feels like its not made for ppl like me, but really theres nothing better 2 me than XWG and caretaking as an expression of love and trust

[transfatfemme]

not to be gay but its really hot when a girl is life-threateningly fat

[fae-feeder]

Domesticity suits her.

She's been spending the past year nesting. The apartment is warm with soft lights and wide cozy furniture, the house plants are thriving and something baking in the oven smells like butter and cinnamon and vanilla. She's been taking it slow while she finishes her degree. Putting so much love into creating a home helps keep her sane through the endless afternoons on the couch with a laptop. Lazy evenings after I get home, both of us tired, eating dinner and cuddling up to watch a show.

Domesticity suits her. The house is her happy place, her own safe little corner of the world. She wears oversized sweatpants or loose dresses. She orders groceries and picks them up at the door. The clothes she used to go out in don't fit any more. She doesn't care, there isn't anywhere to go. She gives herself permission to stay comfortable, she puts another tray of cookies in the oven.

Domesticity suits her. Lazy days full of hearty home-cooked meals turn into months, and her thighs and belly swell up like rising dough. She walks more slowly now, heavy steps from the couch to the kitchen and back again. She orders one chair for cooking and another for the shower. She looks at her body - awkwardly oversized breasts resting on a round belly, a rear like two big pillows, hips filling the love seat - and she appreciates how the home has shaped her. She really looks the archetype: the nurturing mother, the soft home-maker, the content stay-at-home wife. I tell her that I like a little more to love, and she laughs, jokes that if she keeps gaining like this it won't be long until she can't fit out the front door.

Domesticity suits her. By the time she finishes her degree, she's made up her mind about what she wants next - she's ready to get pregnant. We talk through it and decide she should keep staying home, take it easy on her body while we get the house ready for a baby. Hungry and hormonal, she piles on even more weight, embracing her cravings, never far from food. Her breasts seem to double in size, truly enormous now, and they make her struggle to carry things, to see things near her feet, to sit close to tables. I take on more of the chores, I run all the errands, I bring her meals to the couch. Her body is only really good for one thing now - staying cozy in the home, pregnant and cared for. And she likes it. She doesn't want to live a different life, this one feels perfect for her.

Domesticity suits her.

[spaceupthesun]

You are too cute for stairs, elevator only vibes

[auroralovex]

Oh Baby, you need to sit down I could hear your heavy breathing from the next room over. If you where hungry you should of let me know and not try to get up and make something yourself.

I know I was doing something but I’ll drop what ever I’m doing for you, you and your comfort always comes first. We both wanted you this big and I’m not going to let you waste any precious calories on doing something as silly as you cooking for yourself that’s why I’m here, to cook for you and provide for you.

Now why don’t I help you waddle back to the couch we’ll put on one of your favorite shows and I’ll prepare you a nice big meal to make up for any calories you may of burnt and curl up next to you making sure you get plenty of belly rubs while you eat. Now how does that sound?

[lilcowzia]

standing and talking at the same time is just a biiiit too much exercise imo lol

[ellaeats]

Idk how attractive a 400 pound gamer girl who sits in a chair and plays games all day. 😭 I godda start going out more, for sure me not moving around as much is a big reason why I’m getting fat so fast 😩 who wants a sedentary gf

[fae-feeder]

I love seeing how some people on here just let feedism and weight gain take over their lives.

When I find a feedee's blog on here and scroll for a while, and realize how devoted you are to growing and growing, with no end in sight. Your interests, career, relationships, all carefully selected to enable a life spent in indulgence, eating and eating while your fitness and mobility fade away.

And when a feedee lives like that, it shows. Some pictures just shock me, your body weighed down under so much doughy fat, belly spilling out over enormous spreading thighs. You don't get that big by accident. The pictures make me imagine how you must be living, to look so helplessly overfed. Especially if you're young - what must have happened to make you gain so much in so few years? Is eating all you do?

So I see these blogs and I imagine your life. I imagine how much you must eat, how much you must struggle, how good it must feel to touch your own sensitive softness, to be touched. But most of all I imagine your obsession with your own gain. Aroused by the weight holding you down every moment of your life. Always desiring to be bigger, to be the biggest you can imagine yourself, needing it, and pushing yourself toward it every day.

You know who you are. Keep going. I love to see you grow.

[fae-feeder]

Honestly I'm amazed by how eager my wife is to lose her mobility.

I never thought I would see someone so excited to stay in bed all day. But she is happier and more sex-crazy than ever. She's made up her mind that she's not walking another step in her life. And every time she thinks about what that means, she gets so turned on.

When she told me she was ready to become totally dependent, I told her I would support her, no matter what that looked like. She showed me a wheelchair she'd picked out, and said that I'd better stay strong because I'd be helping her in and out of it. She was opting into immobility.

It's not really a surprise. She's been intentionally gaining for years now, and she loves when she gets to be *too fat* for things. And she's always had a fantasy of being spoiled into helplessness, useless for everything but pleasure. This is just the inevitable next step.

Still, I'm in awe of her willpower. Resisting the temptation, convenience, and comfort of a brief walk to the kitchen, or a small standing stretch. The patience it takes to always ask me for help with the littlest, easiest tasks.

She says it requires constant focus to keep her body so sedentary. She can't let herself slip up, give in, flex the muscles she has renounced. She has to keep envisioning the rest of her life, soft and enormous, trapped by her own weighty achievement. And just the thought of it sends a tingling rush of pleasure through her.

And this constant envisioning has made her the most sex-brained person I've seen. If she isn't eating or sleeping, she's begging me to come touch her, or taking matters into her own hands with her vibrator. And her awareness of her own neediness in the face of these cravings - picturing herself so big, helpless, and oversexed - only makes it worse.

I love it. I love taking care of her, gently washing and drying and massaging and kissing every inch of her, every roll of her torso, the expansive spread of her hips and ass. Cuddling up into her softness at the end of the day, all pillowy squish and not a muscle to be found. She's mine, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

[fae-feeder]

Ok, this is a girlfriend appreciation post, so true stories instead of the usual fantasies but hello my gf is so cute!!

She's gained a fair bit of weight since we've been together. And she gets soooo turned on when it gets pointed out. Like we will be in the mirror and I'll jiggle her belly or bring up how much bigger her hips or boobs have gotten, and she will check out her reflection and then she just *needs* sex. She is really needy when it comes to sex, she needs a lot of it.

She was intentionally gaining for a bit and then wanted to slow down, so we aren't doing any stuffings now, but she's kept on gaining slowly. Her body seems to just want to gain more. She likes to sit in bed and just jiggle the new jiggly parts of herself, it's really adorable. And some of our favorite pillow talk is to talk about how big she's going to get eventually, inevitably, because of our relationship.

But oh my gosh I am so lucky to have someone who is as into this as I am?!! She loves being plump, and she gets horny when she gets embarrassed by it, and she likes to look at other feedee's before-and-after photos and imagine herself so much bigger than she is now.

Also she is just my favorite person to share my life with for so many other reasons, a real badass genuine caring person who teaches me so much. I love her and she has given me permission to share pics on here so I just might.

[chthonicillness]

how to dress so girls and crows will notice me but security cameras won’t

[gluttonygirls]

Girls struggling to move because of their sheer weight and size is cute

[bowserwife]

Going to bed with a sleepy girl is so dangerous bc you will wake up and she'll still be asleep and you're like ahhh she looks so pretty I can stay here a few more minutes and then she opens her gorgeous eyes that sparkle in the morning sunlight and looks at you and says "good morning" in the sweetest little voice you've ever heard and snuggles up on your chest and then you're TRAPPED forever

[fae-feeder]

I love the secret game I get to play as a dom feeder and a sub feedee in group settings. Make her act like such a fat girl - order three entrees, or insist that we take the elevator, or ask for help every time she stands up. Sometimes we arrange the rules in advance, other times I text her in the moment. And then, if anyone questions her or gives her a weird look, she has to defend her actions, embarrassed. Sheepishly say that she's just really hungry today, or that she's had a hard time with stairs lately. We never let the secret out.

I want to be seen loving and spoiling someone who is acting so shamelessly gluttonous and so helplessly out-of-shape. Make her promise to ask me for a snack whenever she finishes the last one, and she has to eat whatever I give her. Make her claim pathetic levels of unfitness - insist that she can't walk a block to the car, and we should really just circle back and pick her up. I'll back up any "too fat for that" claims with embarrassing stories about the last time she tried.

It's a performance, but it's not hard to believe - she really has been gaining rapidly lately. If anyone asks about her weight, we'll both be clear that we love her body - but I won't admit that I'm pushing her to gain, and she'll play it off like the weight just happened, she really just loves food and hates exercise. The truth - that I'm always making sure she eats as much and moves as little as possible - well, that's our little secret.

[fae-feeder]

"How the hell did you get so fat?"

I don't say it out loud, but you can see the thought plainly on my face. It's been two years since we last saw each other and here you are, waddling into a cafe, about 300lbs bigger than you were when we graduated.

My split-second of shock changes to a big smile, and I stand up from the patio table and run toward you. "Oh my gosh it's so good to see you!"

We hug, and my arms can't reach all the way around your body. You smile but you're breathing heavily, out of breath from the short walk from your car. I offer my arm for support, and steady you while you take swaying steps.

"Is this a good spot?" I ask, motioning with my head in the direction of the table. "Maybe another chair?"

You nod. "Yeah, another chair would be great." I grab a nearby chair and put it next to yours, and hold your hands while you slowly lower your expansive rear onto the pair. You're a little surprised that I know what someone your size needs - usually it's a thing you have to awkwardly set up for yourself. I sip on my coffee while you lean back and catch your breath.

Back in college, you were already the fat friend of our little clique. But you were normal fat - sure you needed to buy plus size clothes, but it never stopped you from dancing all night, or fitting in a single chair. Today - a week after I reached out because I saw your post that you were moving to the same city as me - you are definitely not normal fat. You are *how the hell did this happen to her in two years* fat.

The truth is, you did it to yourself. You've been gaining intentionally, pushing your calorie limit every day, moving as little as possible ever since graduation. Your weight surged and your fitness vanished entirely. Your own body, with its swelling sensitive curves and waning mobility, turned you on like nothing else could.

You're excited to have a friend in this new city, but you're embarrassed to show what you've done to yourself. You look at my face, searching for signs of concern or disgust. Instead, you catch my eyes glancing at your pillow-like arms, your enormous chest - am I checking you out? I meet your gaze and grin.

"What the hell it's been so long!" we both exclaim at the same time, and we laugh. "I can't wait to hear everything about how you've been," I say eagerly. "But first, can I grab you something to eat?"

[fae-feeder]

When we go out, I've started keeping a score of the number of ~fat girl phrases~ you say.

At first it was just how often you asked for food. "I'm hungry again can we stop at a drive-thru?" or "I know we just ate but this place looks sooo good" in your excited, pleading voice. I never say no, and if there isn't a food spot nearby my backpack is full of treats - bags of mini-donuts and chocolate bars and a thermos of heavy cream for you to sip. You make excuses to friends who don't know you spend most days stuffing yourself in our apartment. "I'm just so hungry today I don't know what it is..."

But then we decided to create a little game out of it. With rules to make sure I get to show off how spoiled and dependent you really are.

One point when you ask for food. Two points when you ask me for help in situations where no normal, even marginally fit person would need a hand.

"Can you get that for me?" whenever anything is not within your arm's reach. That's a big rule - you don't move an inch if you don't have to.

"I really need to sit down" if you do have to walk more than a few steps. I'll make sure you get a seat as soon as possible. And when it's time to stand up, I always help you get back on your feet.

But the real prize is ten points when you admit you're too fat for something everyone else takes for granted. "I'm really not built for it" when a friend wants you to get up and dance with them. "I don't walk so far, I'm gonna need to borrow a scooter" when we go to the mall. "My fat ass? Only if we're driving" when we want to grab more munchies from the store down the block. You laugh when you say these things, like it's just a little self-deprecating joke that you've gotten too fat to walk around a store.

It doesn't matter if you really think you're too heavy and out-of-shape to do it. There's a look I give you. A playful look that says "you're fat, you're the fattest person most of us know, go ahead and act like it". And when I give you that look, you know you're playing the role of the girl who got so fat that she can barely stand up on her own. A spoiled and overfed princess who relies on her girlfriend for anything remotely physical. And you love it.

[liza--autumn-deactivated2024012]

I especially love the idea of doing all this before it's true, and then being more and more comfortable with it as it slowly becomes reality.

[fae-feeder]

See, you understand what this game is about. I want you always thinking about how to be a good girl and score more points, until these patterns become all you know.

Good girls always want more food, and they aren't embarrassed to say so. No one we spend time with will be surprised by how fast you're growing.

Good girls remember that they need to be taken care of. A princess doesn't move, she asks.

Good girls know that anything active is off-limits. Don't worry, I'll make sure everyone understands that you wish you could join, you're just not in good enough shape for it.

It might have started as just a game, but this is who you are now. You're the girl who always has a snack in her hand. You're the girl who has to stay in the car while we pick up food because you can't waddle far enough to make it into the restaurant. You're the girl who got too fat for clubbing, too fat for movie theaters, too fat for stairs.

I'm glad you're getting used to it.