Sleepy-Feeder

M29 Any ambitious feedees, hmu!

[toxiclittlesister]

Kidnapping her and forcefeeding her with a baby bottle just to make it as humiliating as possible

[strawberrycheescakess]

Why don't I have a fat pet at home that I can feed all day </3

[strawberrycheescakess]

Tw toxic? Feedism

I seriously can't stop thinking about this 😵‍💫

Having someone who's just completely mine, no social life, or any other distraction except for what I let them see

Waiting all day for me at home being a needy mess, and as soon as I'm there, I just start feeding them, telling them how cute they look, how good they are for finishing their food, maybe I should just feed them more, some extra pounds couldn't hurt right? They have no saying it their own image, just letting me fatten them up until I'm happy

I'll buy cute outfits and make them try them on. Maybe they're a size too small, but I'll still watch as they struggle to button it up

I can imagine how I would feed them until the clothes tears apart, the buttons giving up under all the fat I'm putting in them

At the end of the day, they're just a mess, completely out of breath and stuffed as I caress their belly and praise them for being such a good pet for me <3

[tumboodles]

be careful wat you wish for little guy,,,,

[hedonists-den]

Feeding you, and feeding you, and feeding you, and—

Oh. You passed out.

.....

—and feeding you, and feeding you, and feeding you, and

[thequeenjigglypie]

this video was hot...

[feedyouimmobile360]

All feedees should push to this level and follow her example. Keep it down or a night of funnel feeding all night is a consequence

[sapphling]

part of being a responsible dom is learning how to dom your submissive out of negative self-talk and thinking patterns when they say things like "i can't do that right now," or "that isn't going to fit in me," or "i can't breathe when you do that," or "stop it stop it my arm doesn't bend that way please stop"

[makemewobble]

I wanna be your project.

Document my gains, my habits, my diet, my personality. A journal to each category, photo collages and scrap books of every little milestone we find important. Measure me and take note of my stretch marks.

Draw on me and outline where you think the next few pounds of fat are going to end up at. Pinch and prod my body at your expense and even mention how it feels, the texture of it. Talk my ears off while you make me stand there on full display for your discerning eye. Not once caring how tired I get or how out of breath I am from having to stand on my own for so long

Make notes of when I manage to eat a bite or two more. How over the course of months and years that instead of bites, it’s evolved into plates and full dishes extra just to feed me. Explain my diet to me while you keep me down on all fours with my face in my dog bowl, sitting on my back and forcing me to hold you up. Patting my side when I’ve done good.

Keeping track of what foods turn me on more and coming up with meal courses serving to show my arousal rise with each bite, climaxing to me panting and grinding into my chair at the end of the dinner. Force desserts into me for the sake of consistent experiments, each meal has to end the same way no matter how full I am.

Documenting my slow descent from walking to waddling to days of no movement at all. Make me do low impact exercises just to keep me in enough shape to still stand for the inspections.

[thecrownestt]

The real evil from a feeder comes when lifestyle changes due to your size are forced. Abilities and experiences, taken from you before you wanted them to be. Before you were ready to say goodbye to that part of your life.

It's one thing to give up activities when you are ready, like walking through the grocery store. There comes a point when a steadily growing feedee will throw in the towel. It's no longer fun. It's a dreaded activity. It's harddddddd. It's a struggle. Too weak. Too fat.

How would you feel if you went for groceries with your feeder, and were told once you got home that it would be the last time you ever walked like that? Gone. No protesting. No negotiations. You now ride the scooter. You felt you had at least another 100lbs before it came to this. It was honestly the most exercise you got each week, and it was wiped away without a second thought.

How would you feel if you woke up one morning to be told that your car was sold, and someone is coming to pick it up today? Your belly hardly started touching the steering wheel! You can't fit in the driver's seat of your feeder's car! You are...dependent. Forced to play along.

The panic might strike a certain way. What happened to your choices? Is your body REALLY that much of a hindrance? It hasn't been that long since you focused on gaining...there's really no going back?

Every feeding takes on a new edge. Months of restricted walking, months of only leaving the home when being told you could go for a car ride, all of it has taken a toll on your mobility. Don't eat enough and you don't have permission for a car ride. But but but eating too much has led to this crisis. And it keeps coming.

Your world starts shrinking. The furniture? Gone. You may either stand or sit in bed. Not much of a choice to be made there, right?

Outgrew your clothes? Your bank cards have been cancelled. Cling on to those last shirts and underwear that you can, or else you may start to exist as the fat naked blob who stays in bed all day.

You want your phone charger? Your last connection to the outside world? Better start meeting those calorie goals. Embrace your funnel. Embrace the snacks in between your meals. Otherwise you'll be stuck in bed, mentally rotting away while staring at the wall.

Life becomes transactional. Single-purpose. You have gone so long without being called by your name. So long without making your own choice without the permissions given to you. The only thing you can control is how much food you eat while your feeder is gone - and falling short of expectations only serves to make life more dim.

One day, you will have your window boarded. Your calendars taken down. Your sense of time will be taken from you.

[heavy--feels]

Feedism is one of the most subversive kinks out there.

it goes against established beauty standards. It celebrates fatness not just in the more socially acceptable "curvy" version, but in all its glory, with large hanging bellies, stretch marks, double chins etc.

it's anti-capitalist. It's about transforming your body in a way that might render it "useless" to the exploitative capitalist system. It's about putting comfort before efficiency, "laziness" before productivity.

it challenges our deepest unconscious beliefs about health and moral goodness. Many people don't realize that they think of "healthy" as "morally good". It's the root of fathpobia: believing that fat people are inherently unhealthy, and believing that being unhealthy is automatically a moral failing. As if eating a salad was virtuous. Feedism sticks a middle finger to that.

it exposes the whole diet industry as a massive cash grab it is.

feedism challenges our perception of autonomy and what is a "valid" choice to make. Many people like to say that they are radically pro-choice and that as long as these choices don't harm others, people are entitled to do whatever they want with their bodies. But in reality, many people object when they see others make radical changes to their bodies. We see it with transphobes, and we see it with people who treat feedists badly. Even within feedism, there is some opposition towards more extreme versions of this kink - but an informed choice to transform your body in a way you see fit is a valid human choice. Nobody should choose for you what you can do with your body.

[failgirldaughter]

i want to be someone's full time pet that they fatten obsessively just because they think it's hot/cute, but with no regard for my wellbeing. from the day they take me in my step count is reduced to the single digits per day, and my calorie count easily in the quintuple digits. infusing as much of my food as possible with THC, and practically all my fluids with alcohol. to keep me docile, stuffed, and confused 24/7. really dumb me down and make me feel like your animal. keep me unable to really process what you're doing to me through a thick fog of intoxication. show off your puppy's obscene gain to your friends. let them watch me pant and struggle as you make me follow your commands for a treat. lay me down and have them pet my massive belly to show off how soft i've been getting. repeat this cycle forever.

[sleepy-feeder]

Lord let me find a pet to do this with 😩

[viralfrog]

[ussbhmfeedeetotheend]

i need someone to ruin me.

not in the fun flirty way. i mean actually, literally, take me apart. feed me until i can't walk without waddling, until breathing feels like a chore, until my body is nothing but soft, heavy proof of your obsession. i want to be swollen with indulgence, stuffed past reason, spoiled beyond recognition.

i want to wake up in a haze of hunger and syrup-sweet affection, only to be greeted by another round of force-fed breakfasts in bed. i want you to look at me like i'm your prize pig, your project, your possession.

i want the teasing, the pressure, the constant, creeping growth. i want the way you’ll sneer when i say i’m full, the way you’ll smile when the scale creaks louder every day. I want your hands everywhere, greedy and proud, shaping me like clay into exactly what you want.

no escape. no diet. no mercy. Just feed me.

i want to be broken—beautifully, thoroughly—by appetite.

i want to be yours in the most obscene way possible. a thing you keep fattened, pampered, and pumped full of calories until i’m unrecognizable. until i'm helpless. until my body is a bloated, quivering monument to your obsession and my surrender.

don’t just feed me. force me. hold me down and pour milkshakes past my lips until i’m whining and leaking and begging you to stop, even as my gut growls for more. make me cry from fullness, then coo in my ear about how proud you are. tell me i was made to be this soft, this greedy, this round.

push me to the brink. watch me struggle to lift myself from the bed you’ve made my prison. slap the side of my belly and laugh when it jiggles for seconds after. make me wear tight clothes just so you can watch them give out, seams snapping like they’ve finally admitted defeat.

you said you wanted a pig? then feed me like one. treat me like one. no dignity, no limits. spoon after spoon, bite after bite, until i’m gasping and drooling and too heavy to fight you. make me need you to eat, to move, to breathe.

make me forget who i was before you turned me into this.

just a swollen, spoiled, overfed mess made for your pleasure.

[chubunited]

I love the intersection of feederism and petplay… it’s so damn tasty. The premise of spoiling a fat pet wrapped in leather straps, big plush paws making your hands useless. Why would you even need them?? Big bloated belly spread out on a plush pet bed, naked except for the collar around your fat neck. Guests are encouraged to overfeed you. You’re only allowed to communicate in whines, chirps and purrs…

Utterly cared for to the point where there isnt a thought in your head. Who needs to think? Just open your mouth, chew, swallow.

[bigger-and-rounder]

Kidnapping scenarios with mindbreaking and drugging always get me so bad. Like. An (initially) unwilling feedee being physically and chemically conditioned to accept their circumstances via a combination of Stockholm syndrome and substances, spending the first few months almost always drugged out of their mind until it stops being necessary to keep them pliant. Getting heavier and hungrier, brain rewired to the point that they start to forget life before their feeder trapped them here. Not even questioning when a wand gets shoved under their folds and they start having their nipples played with because they’re too busy guzzling down their latest gainer shake, only vaguely aware at this point that they’re even a person and not a perpetually growing blob of fat. Brain turning to mush, no longer speaking just moaning whenever their hungry mouth isn’t full, hundreds of pounds of lard weighing them down to the point restraints aren’t even necessary, not that they would ever try to escape at this point. If they were unwilling at first they certainly aren’t now, they’re permanently and irreversibly addicted to being this perpetually growing and cumming blob in an eternal drugged-up haze. Even if they were to be “rescued” now, they’d just find their way back to this lifestyle with a new feeder because it’s all they’re capable of wanting now. Permanently ruined.

[wolf-feeder]

i wanna coax a tboy into getting fat.

i want to push him to eat for me. i want to feel like the devil in his ear, conditioning him to give in to pleasure. i want it to start with a cute, bulging little tummy, at first, as he moans helplessly from the struggle of digesting how much i made him eat. i want to spoil him with chocolates and sweets until his poor belly hurts, and hes still begging me for more with his eyes, wobbling his stuffed gut, showing off for me. quickly, it becomes more hands-off as his belly stretches, and all of a sudden hes eating enough for two, three people every meal. our friends look at him with shock when they see how much food he orders, when we're all going out after a concert, and i just laugh because they have no idea how much he can really pack away when i have him tied up and i wont let him cum until he finishes everything.

i want it to become obvious how much his stomach is growing as it sticks out in comparison to his flat chest. then i want him to widen, his stance shifting, legs further apart to support all that weight, or to allow his soft tummy to rest between his thighs. his belly aching and striped with stretch marks that i come up behind him to trace with my fingers. he moans at the delicate touch. hes oozing out of his jeans, his belly sticks out of all his t shirts. his sweaters all cling to his middle, making him look plush and perfect. i want his moobs to finally start coming in, still paling in comparison to his big, growing belly. i want to squeeze his fattened gut and tell him hes starting to look like a proper man, now. i want him obese, addicted to sugary sweets and rich home cooking and fatty junk food. i want him to insist hes still starving whenever he hasnt eaten himself to helpless, breathless pain. poor thing. doesnt know whats good for him. hes outgrown his wardrobe several times, now, and its more common to see him in too-small clothes tha not.

they can whisper about him like hes a cautionary tale, a warning that hormones make you fat, unaware of the fact that the only reason he looks like that is because i made him. im the one who packed hundreds of pounds onto his frame. he clutches the big, heavy gut i put on him and tells me so--its all my fault, he didnt mean to get this fat... but we both know how eager he is to let me do this to him. how much he loves being my fattened boytoy

[losermuttthing]

you look so cute in pain it's hard not to hurt you, pet :)

i love the betrayed little look you get on your face, the way you whimper and how your eyes well up with tears when i slam my boot into your side, or grab you a bit too rough is just so cute. it's hard not to be so casually mean to you.

and you make it so easy, too. a good little thing like you never puts up a fight or complains. you just take it like a good little toy, you take anything i give you.

if i want to fuck you and you don't want it, you take it. if i want to cum in you no matter how you beg or plead, you take it.

so really, it's your fault, hm? maybe if you were a bit more 'bratty' i wouldn't think i can just take whatever i want from you.

then again... we both know i'd just break you anyway :)

[celluliteangel]

dreaming about being trained to be a dumb fat useless plaything for my boyfriend to use. being forced to have a shot and smoke a bowl every hour of the day until im too high and drunk to fight back against anything he wants to do to me. him taking advantage of the state im in to force thousands of calories down my throat when he knows i couldn’t do anything to stop him if i wanted.

[sleepy-feeder]

Me and who