It has been weeks since my mind went overdrive on the darker side of feedism. It has been day in and day out nonstop day dreaming about feeding or being fed inhumane amounts of food like its another tuesday. I´ve had multiple different scenarios play in my mind but one just struck gold in my head:
Imagen being the d3ath feeder and partner of a greedy fat pig that has just passed on, seeing you whole lives work slowly being placed 6ft under during their funeral surrounded by the other d3ath feeders you hired to help you make this possible. You can't stop smiling, can't stop thinking about how good it felt seeing them slowly fade away infront of you as you and the others can barely can hold the horniness in. Always wondering how it felt like, being so big, so soft and so unhealthy at the same time as you fed them nothing but inhumane foods.
Then after the funeral, the will reading comes in. You were ready to keep everything as you've essentially isolated them from the world after a year into dating your favorite project so far. At first, it goes as you expected, you were left everything they owned, every piece of clothing that no longer fit him, the custom betriatic bed you've installed so they didn't have to lift up a finger for anything but grabbing something to eat, everything being on his name due to your confidence of him giving you everything as per agreement. But as you thought they were done reading, the currator drops the biggest bombshell of all "as a clause for Y/N, I want them to live just the way I did. Not lifting a finger a day in their life anymore and enjoy life like I did with mine. If they fail to comply, strip them of everything"
Now this was your chance, the chance to experience how your partner felt during your entire relationship. Of course a bunch of cloud of doubt and excitedment has come over you but its nothing new to you. You've experienced countless of h3art attacks prior to this, seen in real time how much your fabulous piggy was loving every second of being an unhealthy pile of lard. In the end, you accept the conditions and go home, ready to what to await you as your feeders plan to do far worse with you than they did with your partner.
At first, it was simple stuffings every few hours, making you feel very bloated through the initial weeks with your weight noticeably piling up. Then, chained you up, arms tied behind your back as a gag mask attached to a funnel is palced on you. Soon after, they bring a few pints of melted ice cream with protein, butter and tons of extra sugar in the mix, and prepping to drop them into the funnel. This continues for months, taking turns throughout the day to make sure you're not empty at any point. Your skin unable to keep up with the increasing weight as stretch marks pop up mainly on your belly. Then after a full on your of keeping you tied up so your muscles would slowly weaken, they treat you like nothing but an object. Painting on you stuff you can't even read, smacking your taut belly & teasing you on how you let yourself go like this, making you eat until you could barely breath and telling you how each wishes you to die on them.
All of this just making you crave for more: more unhealthy slop they call food, more of that poor treatment you grown accustumed to love. Your heart racing from the thoughts alone to dangerous levels as your first h3art attack set it finally. Your first big milestone was hit and you couldn't be happier. The feeders sneaking in more stuff for you to eat agains the doctors orders to make up for the time lost with the first of many heart replacemnt surgeries you're going to need in the future. And soon enough, you get plugged in to the same equipment your old partner used to use once you're back home. Still not as bad as your did to your partner but slowly getting there. Only thing left for you to do is eat, sleep, goon & repeat until the the day of your departure comes.
gummygunk
origamiaround
titsay
germansingergirl
prguitarman
jacobvanloon
