For the piggys. (DMS open)

(22-uk-feeder)

[lisalouthree]

Just a semi-regular reminder that it’s feedism now, feederism is outdated 😅

[feedertisom]

Meant to be huge.

You're so big now, so gorgeously fat, that there truly is no other explanation for just how you got this big this fast. I bet they can all tell just how much you love it when your belly is so painfully full, when you pop buttons, making a massive pig of yourself.

Every time you move, there is more heaviness to you, a soft sway that tells the story of every calorie we’ve stuffed into your tummy. I love watching the way your skin stretches tight, gleaming and smooth, struggling to contain the sheer size of your growth.

Let them stare. Let them marvel at just how fat you are and just how much fatter we know you're going to get the massive size of you. We all see the look in your eyes when you outgrow your latest clothes, turning every outfit into a tight, straining cage for your growing bulk. You are meant to be huge

[feedertisom]

Its getting real now, isn't it?

At first, it was all just fun and games. A quick stop for a burger on the way home couldn’t have hurt anyone. But then the months treats became weekly and then became a necessity. The numbers are starting to add up, and so is the weight.

Watching your clothes get tight wasn't a big deal at first I always had a larger size waiting for you anyway. But now, your tummy is filling your lap, spilling over and hanging heavy between your thighs. It’s starting to feel like a permanent change, isn't it? A soft, heavy reality that you can't just unbutton and walk away from.

When you first laid in bed for a full day, it was fine. I loved bringing you everything you needed, catering to every craving. But now, it’s getting harder and harder for you to leave the mattress at all. Your body is becoming a beautiful anchor, tethering you to the sheets, making the world outside the bedroom feel smaller and smaller.

Don’t worry. It’s all going exactly according to my plan.

[feedertisom]

How Much longer?

How much longer will it be until you admit you want this? You already spend your time looking at all big fatties the internet. It's only a bit of fun.

How much longer until you let me start taking a box of chocolate to bed to feed you? It's only a little treat.

How much longer until that button pops, the waistband is so tight around your belly? It's only an excuse to finally buy that next size up.

How much longer until you realize It's too late to stop? Your way past your goal weight. It's just a starting point anyway.

How much longer until you get used to having to go sideways through the door? It's only a reminder of just how amazing you look.

[discoursedarling]

fatliberation getting wrongfully terminated is such fatphobic fucking bullshit on @staff's part and we all fucking know there won't be any outcry about it the way there's outcry when a thin person gets terminated

[feedertisom]

The morning are the worst aren't they?

You struggle to get out of bed and your reward? Struggling to waddle down the hallway to the living room.

You have gotten far to big to be going up and down stairs?

so we had to move the bedroom to the ground floor the upstairs basically non existent to you now.

After you mange to waddle through the ever more cramped hallway you enter the living room and sit on the sofa, your body all but filling it completely. It won't be long before the sofa gives way under your butt or you get stuck in the hallway.

We will make sure of that.

[feedismandrituals]

The Flaw it Fixes: Feedees keep their old, smaller clothes in the back of the closet. They tell themselves they might fit into them again, or they use them as a metric for "how bad" things have gotten. Keeping those clothes is a safety net. This ritual forces them to physically burn the bridge to their past.

Ritual XXIV: The Wardrobe Graveyard

You still have that pair of jeans. That pair of panties. That shirt that turned into a croptop. That buttoned blouse you could barely close last time.

You keep them hidden in the drawer, like a ghost of the person you used to be before the grease took over. Keeping them is an act of cowardice. It means you still believe you have a choice to go back. You don't. You are a biological container now, and containers only expand.

The Directive: Tonight, before your heaviest binge, you will perform the Rite of Severance.

Open your closet. Take out the smallest, most unforgiving piece of clothing you own. The item that represents the "hot", perfect body you methodically destroyed.

The Mechanic: Strip down. Stand in front of the mirror. Try to put it on.

Do not stop when it gets tight. Force it over your massive, dimpled thighs. Pull it up over your hips until the fabric is screaming. Try to pull it over the thick, dead weight of your apron. I want you to feel the exact, humiliating moment the fabric physically refuses to yield to your bulk. I want you to hear the seams tear under the pressure of your sheer tonnage.

Look at yourself in the mirror, half-trapped in a garment built for a human, while you stand there looking like an overgrown, breathless hog.

Say aloud: "I destroyed the human. And I am never going back."

Don't take off the ruined clothing. Then, sit on the floor, naked and overflowing, and eat until you are completely numb.

You belong to the expansion now. You are a hog now.

[thecrownestt]

The experience I am curious about is that tipping point. Where you watch a feedee have those final, sober moments of clarity about what is coming.

Days when stuffing isn't exactly fun. Days when they are seriously feeling beaten down by maneuvering a body that hates the little movement it has to manage. Days when they gripe about it being too much, but never able to stop their food addict brain from taking over. It's too hot. It's too erotic. A constant dull ringing in between her legs.

It may come in a certain statement of finality.

"If I keep this up, I'm not going to be able to leave the house."

"If being like this doesn't make me try to slow down now, I don't know if anything ever will."

"If I stop getting up, I'm going to end up bedbound soon."

But you get nagged to bring food. She's in a bad mood. Gorging on something sweet will take the edge off. Make her sleepy, make tomorrow come sooner, forget about the stress of this current moment.

There's a fear. There's a groaning about how helpless she is to the demands of her appetite. It's the final touches of leaving behind any chance of normalcy. Why bother sizing up an entire wardrobe again. Who is she trying to impress? Shopping is exhausting, hell, getting dressed is a nightmare. Just throw on a stained shirt that won't cover her belly. Use a blanket to cover her legs.

Give up on leaving the house. It's too uncomfortable to squeeze into a car. It's annoying to sit on a scooter when your ass and legs sag over the sides. Eating out doesn't sound appealing when you have to move so much just to get back into bed. Screw it. You're the fat lady who is too fat to leave home. Embrace it.

You track her calories. She gets restless when she doesn't eat a certain amount, an amount that dooms her to putting on more weight. Even a light day is irritable, cranky. It's too late to change. The burden of living in a giant, heavy body doesn't make sense if she can't even eat what she wants.

And so it goes on. Bury her in fat. Find it in yourself to not stumble over the edge. To not snap and become a psycho feeder. She's resigned to a life in her room. You could seriously take over... she is too tired to care... it would be so easy.

[chubbygoddessathena]

Fucking, oh my god please do this to me

[makemewobble]

Hehe, having your gainer partner do the driving on a road trip, ordering them when to stop for food. You’ll lean over their protruding belly to bark off menu items they’ll be eating, can’t help but feel them shift their legs together as it keeps coming.

You’ll be sat in the passenger seat unwrapping and feeding them every little food in the over stuffed bag, the small one is for you since you can’t keep much down on a bumpy road. One hand rubbing their growing belly, shifting a little when they feel the steering wheel start digging into them while trying to drive still.

At the first rest stop you two hit, they’re stuck in the driver seat. Top of their belly is distended and shining red while the rest of their belly sags between their chubby legs. Looking up at you with a begging puppy look in their eyes, they ask that you lower the seat and help them slide out. You wrap an arm as far around their waist as you could and help them to the passenger seat where they can finally recline and digest.

Getting back onto the road, and a grumble sounds off from the passenger while they snore away. You’re pulling into a drive through again before they crack their eyes open. Waking up by the time you grab the first bag from the window and plop it on their lap and they dig in immediately, not even noticing the two others you put in the back seat.

Those three bags were enough to nearly send them back off to sleep but those damn bumps in the road are just dislodging burp after burp in them, you can see a bit of nausea in their face but you tell them to hold on as you’re just around the corner from the house

[fatliberation]

anti-fatness is not just body shaming.

anti-fatness is discrimination. anti-fatness is having next to no legal protections for being discriminated against. anti-fatness is being denied housing, jobs, receiving less pay and promotions (legally) because of your size. anti-fatness is being denied access to clothing, seating, transportation, and other human rights because infrastructure has been designed to exclude you. anti-fatness is less likelihood of receiving a fair trial. anti-fatness is dehumanization. anti-fatness is being denied necessary surgeries, but not surgery that amputates the digestive tract with the intent to starve and shrink you (it doesn’t work either). anti-fatness is mutilation. anti-fatness is being subject to torture devices that bolt your mouth shut. anti-fatness is being told by close friends, family, and professionals that you are better off living with an eating disorder or other life-threatening illness. anti-fatness sells you starvation as a guaranteed opt-out of oppression, but doesn’t tell you that bodies will always regain weight to survive. anti-fatness blames and punishes you for failing at an achievement that is quite literally impossible. anti-fatness is a $90 billion dollar industry. anti-fatness is being denied gender-affirming care. anti-fatness is being barred from in vitro fertilization and reproductive healthcare. anti-fatness is being barred from adopting children. anti-fatness is being removed from your loving parents because they couldn’t make you thin. anti-fatness is intentionally starving your own baby so they won’t get fat. anti-fatness is disproportionately high suicide rates. anti-fatness is being killed at the hands of medical neglect and mistreatment. anti-fatness is the world preferring a dead body over a fat one.

[fatliberation]

reblogging this again because so many people still do not realize that fat liberation is deeply political. fat liberation is not body positivity. it is not about loving yourself or being non-judgemental. it is about THIS. 👆

[chubby-ronnie]

Helpless

You want to be so fat you are literally helpless to do anything without me. You want to be so fat that walking is a memory; so fat that the only use for your feet is as extra storage for the results of your constant gluttony. You want to be so fat that your upper arms have the size and cushiness of pillows; so swollen that they overcome your elbows. You want to be so fat that even your wrists have rolls; so fat that counting your chins takes both hands. You want to be so fat that your arse acts as your cushion and your anchor, melting over the sides of the king size mattress you call a home. You want to be so fat that your belly surges forward, spreading your legs permanently while making self-pleasure impossible. So fat you are helpless to indulge even that primal need, without me.

You want to be so fat that you become simple. You want your mind to forget about everything difficult and complicated - anything that isn’t about pleasure. You want to forget social niceties. You want to become lost in a constant cycle of gluttony and lust. You want food and sex to be so strongly associated in your dumb mind that even the sight of a meal makes your nethers start to tingle.

You want to be so fat that it consumes you. Not merely physically - you want it to consume *you*, your mind, your life, your personality, everything you are, as thoroughly as you consume meal after meal. You want to be so fat that the things normal people have - friends, hobbies, a job, a life - shrink away while you grow ever wider. Right now your desires are secondary to your life, your work, to social expectations. But you want to be so fat that your desires overwhelm everything. I know you want it. You know you want it. So why don’t you take my hand, and let me help you to be helpless.

[embellyished]

Feedist Kinktober Day 6: Insatiable Itch 🥵

You've become insatiable, haven't you?

Not just insatiable for food, but insatiable for fat.

You want to grow endlessly more enormous. For you, bigger is always better. Rounder, softer, heavier. No size is too great, no weight is too much.

You didn't used to be like this. You've always enjoyed the plushness, the warmth, but you were never this desperate for more. But you found that bigger and softer you became, the biggest and softer you needed to be.

And now look. You're a hog, a whale, a blob. An endless mountain of adipose, who's entire day consists of eating, gorging, and growing. And yet you still have that little voice, that itch, that is telling you that you need to expand, to fatten your way to even greater levels of depravity. And the more you gain, the louder that little voice is going to get.

The pleasure you get from feeling all of that blubber move. Rolls atop rolls. Crevices and valleys of pure fat pouring onto each other. The slightly movements sends ripples throughout your entire body, and shivers down your spine. The fatter you get, the more of this pleasure you'll feel, and the more insatiable you'll become. The more you eat, the fatter and more hedonistic you'll become. Its a never ending cycle of fat, greed and pleasure, and you're stuck in the middle of it, experiencing far too much mind bending pleasure to ever stop.

And if it feels this good to be this big, just imagine how good it'll feel to be even bigger.

[feedertisom]

The rain is coming down fast pitter-pattering on the window as you wake up.

Hearing movement in the kitchen you (with some effort) force yourself to your feet,your cute squishy thighs rub together as you join me in the kitchen.

"Good afternoon Hun. How was your nap"

You see me add herbs to the big pot filled with pasta sauce before I mix the pasta bubbling away.

"lunch will be ready soon. I made a lot, I know how much you can fit in that's gorgeous tummy of yours"

Soon I'm refilling your bowl with second helpings as you put away the pasta into your lap filling belly

"Once you've had your fill how about I give you a belly rub to help it all go down properly"

[feedertisom]

let's dive in Honey. I've got the perfect plan to destroy your diet and get you packing on the pounds.

Here's what I'm thinking for tonight:

Starter: We'll kick things off with a massive, greasy, loaded pizza topped with every fattening ingredient imaginable, from pepperoni and bacon to extra cheese and a buttery crust. No sharing.

Main Course: Next, I'll cook up a family-sized portion of deep fried chicken wings drowned in BBQ sauce, paired with a huge side of fried mozzarella sticks and delectable garlic bread smothered in butter.

Side Dishes: We can't forget the essential sides - creamy mashed potatoes slathered in butter and chive, and heaping servings of fried onion rings. I want that tummy to be stuffed to the brim.

Dessert: To top it all off, I'll make you an enormous chocolate lava cake, dripping and gooey, paired with a big scoop of premium ice cream. I want you to feast on dessert until you can hardly breathe. I'm aiming for a food baby that makes you look almost pregnant.

I can already envision it, you, wobbling around the house, struggling to get up off the couch, lovingly worshipping let's dive in with gusto. I've got the perfect plan to sneak attack your diet and packing on the pounds.

We are not stopping at just one day of binging though. This is a lifestyle now, a journey of you eating your way to obesity and me cheering you on every gluttonous step. Forget about exercise or self-control. Your new life is all about indulgence, all the time.

So are you ready to dive in and be a good, greedy piggy for me tonight? I'm so excited to watch you overindulge and blossom into the blubbery, adorably overfed gluton I know you can be. Your gluttonous desires call to me, and I can't deny you a thing.

[feedertisom]

Cleaning away the fast food packaging I hear your stomach gurgling with just how full you are.

"Listen to that belly of yours, it blows me away just how gorgeous you look when you're stuffed like this"

I lean in softly rubbing your stretched tummy seeing it jiggle with the movement.

"Let me take care of you, help with the discomfort. Your sexy, swollen belly deserves some tender loving care"

I kiss you overtaxed belly and it's stretch marks, I watch as you fall into a food coma so I pull a warm soft blanket up to cover your growing body.

"Get nice and cozy, my pretty piggy. when you wake up, you'll feel so much better."

I kiss your forehead as you fall asleep and I go back to cleaning the mess left from your feast.

[ebc-art]

I want a girl so out of shape and overfed that her body is literally only fit for lounging back and stuffing her face

Sitting up? Breathing more heavily

Reaching for snacks? Heart pounding in her ears

Standing up? Red faced and flushed with effort

God forbid—walking? Full on wheezing, struggling to catch her breath, drenched in sweat

Her arms get tired from the weight of a two liter, her feet are sore from stabding, her lungs burn when she rolls over, and her back aches from sitting upright

Only comfortable when she's completely sedentary, lounged back and cradling a belly full of fattening junk food

I want her body completely useless, so I can see just how well I've treated her. After all: a girl so grossly out of shape that she can't do anything but eat must've been so spoiled she didn't need to do anything else

How else am I to know I've treated a girl right?

[ur-favorite-pocket-gremlin]

Me : Baby… that chair doesn’t even come close to holding you.

You : Ugh, I knew it. These tiny Spanish cafés weren’t made for someone my size.

Me: Exactly. You’re too much—too big, too gorgeous—for something that flimsy. I kind of love that.

You: So… no romantic dinner in the plaza?

Me: Who said we can’t make it romantic? We’ll order everything to go. Tapas, paella, sangria, churros—all of it. And then I’ll spread a blanket under the orange trees just for us.

You: A picnic instead of a table?

Me: Mhm. No chair arms squeezing you, no one watching. Just me feeding you bite after bite while you lean against me, belly getting heavier, lips glossy with wine.

You: …You’re making this sound way too good.

Me: That’s because it is good. I want to watch you eat until you can’t anymore, then kiss you while you’re flushed and full. Spain will hear the way you moan for me.

You: You’re going to ruin me.

Me: Ruin you? No. I’m going to worship you—every soft, greedy, overflowing inch of you. Tonight, the only thing bigger than your appetite will be the way I want you.