Feeder Frenzy

31M. Not taken at the moment. Big time feeder. I write stuff to get out my better feedist thoughts. 

[thecrownestt]

This is my pinned post. Never did one, but after several years I figure it makes sense.

Male feeder. Single. In my early 30s.

I don't offer a lot in the content world, but my blog here shows I like to write fairly long text posts about feeder/feedee relationships and dynamics.

I've shown my face on here before. I'm open to chatting with folks if there's a spark.

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With this username: I have a feabie, a neglected deviantart, and technically an OF that I've posted manic cooking videos onto before. I'll venture wherever this community seems to thrive at. I occasionally threaten to do more than tumblr posts. We'll see.

I usually turn inbox messages into decently good horny posts. I'm not against any commissioned writing ideas...I otherwise disappear when writer's block hits.

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What I'm into/ post about: Pretty much anything that is offered in the identity of a dominant feeder.

BDSM (mean, play shaming, force feeding, bondage, etc).

Lifestyle dynamics (pursuing active gaining with a feedee, pig/hucow treatments, uhhh pretty much devoting myself to enabling someone to gain weight)

The extremes (dark elements, mobility issues, being housebound, being bedbound)

What I'm not into:

Mutual gaining (at least 95% of me says so)

Mediocre messaging, attempted fat chats from profiles with little to no presence or proof of person behind them

Being a sub

Pretty much anything I didn't list above. I won't decry anything, lord knows my interests are niche

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[thecrownestt]

Do you prefer your partner to try to look cute (while she’s still mobile enough to do so), or do you get off on your fatty to look like a disgusting slob?

If we remove any and all feedist intentions, I've always vastly preferred someone who has a lower maintenance style. I've dated women who won't go out on a date without spending an hour doing hair and makeup and I've dated women who splash water on their face and are ready to go. I appreciate both, but I just prefer the latter.

Now I'm not crazy, I love it when someone dresses cute and looks nice the same way anyone might, but I'm not one to put that pressure on anyone to maintain that. Odds are I'm not dating you unless I already find your look and style to be appealing.

....I DO like slob though.

Knowing someone is TIRED and SLEEPY and kinda wrecked from eating so much. They want to LAY DOWN. Wear that baggy, comfy tent shirt. Disheveled hair. Needs encouraging to shower. Food trash surrounding her. Unladylike burping. What HAPPENED to my little starlet babe? How did she become such a messy piggy? Poor thing! She just wants another snack. She just wants daddy to wash between her fat rolls with a soapy wet cloth while she digests that cake she demolished :(

[thecrownestt]

appreciate the measured response to a sarcastic ask. maybe I could dig deeper and find out but whereabouts are you that you'd need to fly somewhere to find a feedee at all?

the numbers are not important btw, they measure the impact of your content, not of you

I mean, where can you go in the country where there are plentiful feedees on dating sites besides NYC or LA? There's always gonna be a few hours separating folks. Over my decade of actively seeking out someone, the closest anyone happened to be where it worked out enough to go on 2nd/3rd/4th dates with was still an hour and 40 minutes away.

As far as my blog numbers go, they matter on some level to me. The context of why I started posting on Tumblr at all was due to a breakup with a BBW who did not find feedism desirable. Up until then, I always presented myself in a restrained way. The numbers of the blog give me some reassurance that I don't need to hold back.

[thecrownestt]

are you doing a follower cull

Not in any deliberate sense. I do understand it's annoying when a content creator someone likes goes off the established path.

From my perspective, when I look at my profile numbers, I've seemingly hit the ceiling of what is possible for a text-based extreme feedist blog ran by a straight male. I've had some of my most popular posts this year, but my follower count has mostly stopped climbing. For the effort I put into a sexy writing, I'm not going to get any more popular if my next post goes for over 1,000 likes and reblogs.

Which is still great. I appreciate my place in the feedist world. It's nice to have people resonate with the feedist posts I write. But. I've written over 400 feedist posts. I'm feeling a little creatively bankrupt.

And that creative bankruptcy turns into me deciding to post some bullshit like how Marquette basketball is ranked so high in the transfer class. I do it because it's enjoyable to type out something that I enjoy thinking about. It's fresh to me. If I made 400 posts about Marquette? I'd be struggling to find the magic.

It becomes a question of what I want out of this blog. I've always felt a certain luxury of freedom because my posts aren't meant to generate income and aren't reliant on whether someone thinks I'm hot. In the same vein, I can't experience feedism on a regular basis like a feedee might. If I'm horny, there's quite literally nothing I can do about it. If a feedee is horny, they can scarf down a meal and make an evening of it.

The real answer is I need to find a gf and do some freaky stuff with her. I've genuinely not tried for a while. I mean, I've messaged with some girls and hoped we could hit it off... but it has been years since my last in-person encounter. There's something discouraging about having to get on a plane to meet someone.

[thecrownestt]

The garage door was broke. I spent an hour figuring it out, but I had to go in the house at some point because there was a damned tornado warning.

When I go back out to fix the thing, this is what I saw. Gahhhhh. I jumped so high.

(I did fix the garage door. Manly man.)

(If I sound lispy it's because I have a minor one that I have to fight 😭)

[thecrownestt]

If you folks could only know the chaos of my group chat when this happened.

I was literally going out for groceries when the garage door broke. My truck was stuck inside. I was down to NOTHIN. Half a jar of pickles, peanut butter, rice, black beans, and some peppers and onions. Half a jug of milk. Coffee. Three cans of tuna. THAT WAS IT. Where I live is too far for delivery or DoorDash. The garage door company won't open until Monday. Three days of that.

So I'm messaging my engineer friends. They are command center in Houston trying to diagnose with the little info they have. It was Apollo 13. It was Castaway (lmao Tom Hanks does good movies for this). They were analyzing my garage door photos and videos.

One suggested I get a wrench and a beer and go crazy. Sorry, NO BEER. That's why I was trying to leave in the first place!

I'm getting diagrams sent to me. I'm being told the coils on the garage could kill me, so don't accidentally fucking die. I'M AWARE.

It's muggy here. The garage was 90 degrees. I'm sweating buckets and slamming the rail of the garage door track with a hammer.

Then they are like, "go outside and shove the door." Except it's hail and lightning and dumping rain. Oh wait, a TORNADO warning. I have to retreat for an hour. Starving.

Emerge from the house, and a fucking dinosaur turtle notorious for chomping fingers off is standing in between me and the garage.

Biblical reaction in the group chat. It's a Friday, I know they had a few bourbons. Their entire evening is hinging on my survival. They were incredulous. A SNAPPING TURTLE?? CAN I KILL IT FOR FOOD??

[thecrownestt]

Ok here's the saga.

First, the timestamps suggest my drunk friends didn't understand the word WEDGE. I was livid. Wedge wedge wedge wedge.

Then it turned into a dick drawing mockery.

Reactions to the Snapping Turtle

And then me unscrewing the entire garage to fix it hours later.

[thecrownestt]

The garage door was broke. I spent an hour figuring it out, but I had to go in the house at some point because there was a damned tornado warning.

When I go back out to fix the thing, this is what I saw. Gahhhhh. I jumped so high.

(I did fix the garage door. Manly man.)

(If I sound lispy it's because I have a minor one that I have to fight 😭)

[thecrownestt]

If you folks could only know the chaos of my group chat when this happened.

I was literally going out for groceries when the garage door broke. My truck was stuck inside. I was down to NOTHIN. Half a jar of pickles, peanut butter, rice, black beans, and some peppers and onions. Half a jug of milk. Coffee. Three cans of tuna. THAT WAS IT. Where I live is too far for delivery or DoorDash. The garage door company won't open until Monday. Three days of that.

So I'm messaging my engineer friends. They are command center in Houston trying to diagnose with the little info they have. It was Apollo 13. It was Castaway (lmao Tom Hanks does good movies for this). They were analyzing my garage door photos and videos.

One suggested I get a wrench and a beer and go crazy. Sorry, NO BEER. That's why I was trying to leave in the first place!

I'm getting diagrams sent to me. I'm being told the coils on the garage could kill me, so don't accidentally fucking die. I'M AWARE.

It's muggy here. The garage was 90 degrees. I'm sweating buckets and slamming the rail of the garage door track with a hammer.

Then they are like, "go outside and shove the door." Except it's hail and lightning and dumping rain. Oh wait, a TORNADO warning. I have to retreat for an hour. Starving.

Emerge from the house, and a fucking dinosaur turtle notorious for chomping fingers off is standing in between me and the garage.

Biblical reaction in the group chat. It's a Friday, I know they had a few bourbons. Their entire evening is hinging on my survival. They were incredulous. A SNAPPING TURTLE?? CAN I KILL IT FOR FOOD??

[thecrownestt]

The garage door was broke. I spent an hour figuring it out, but I had to go in the house at some point because there was a damned tornado warning.

When I go back out to fix the thing, this is what I saw. Gahhhhh. I jumped so high.

(I did fix the garage door. Manly man.)

(If I sound lispy it's because I have a minor one that I have to fight 😭)

[thecrownestt]

The NBA finals has me thinking of this one story of mine and it's too funny not to share. I never get to share it.

In college I went to the rec center this one time to play basketball. I was at a smallish college, so pickup basketball is risky in the sense that the first time you ever play with strangers is how they'll view your talent level for the rest of eternity. You'll definitely see these dudes on campus or in the gym again. You gotta play good that first time.

I was definitely categorized as Above Average for the 5'9 height bracket. I'd never be the best player out there, but I was similarly never the worst. It was a good place to be. My wingspan is 6'2 and I could nearly dunk, so I was able to get rebounds and play defense on dudes who were much taller than me. People liked that. Everybody loves when the short guy blocks a shot to the moon.

Anyway, I join a pickup game. Eight dudes. Me and this other dude Michael are the only white guys, the rest are black. Michael and I get picked last. Our teams tell us to guard each other. Honestly, hilarious. Fair. Very fair. Lmao.

But I torched the poor kid. I did a nice move on him to start the game. My teammates saw the mismatch and kept giving me the ball to exploit him. I made the first four baskets of the game. The other team calls timeout and has someone else guard me. In pickup basketball, that's the equivalent of being Knighted.

For the rest of college, I could see any of those guys and it was instantly love (well, not Michael haha). One dude invited me to a party because I walked past him on a Saturday afternoon. It was literally "hey you're the white kid who's good at basketball, come to room 326 in a few hours." Nobody ever exchanged numbers or names, but I could run into one of those guys for the rest of my college years and shoot the shit for a few minutes. I remember how the one guy lit up whenever he saw me. He thought it was the coolest thing that the white kid could jump higher than all his black friends. Then I'd tell him I'm from rural Ohio. Blew his mind. Breaking down barriers, folks. Haha

[thecrownestt]

I like the implication of what it means to feed a partner.

I'm keeping you fat. You may enjoy it, but you don't have any say in the matter. As long as you are with me, something as personal as your own body is under my control.

Look at us in public. How could a couple live under the same roof and have such a dramatic difference in appearance. Watching you waddle and pant to move about. Unquestioning the food I hand to you. It's damning of me. It's so purposefully taboo.

There's a senseless nature to it. You have to eat what I place in front of you... for no reason other than I demand it. It's logic flipped on its head. You could simply choose to not overeat. You'd probably have a more fulfilling life. More autonomy, more freedom.

Instead, you listen to these imaginary consequences of not finishing your food. Somehow the perils of overeating are drowned out by my actions. Another outgrown pair of pants. Another broken chair. Avoiding getting up. The confusion of why it's suddenly so... hard... to rock yourself out of bed.

But I am keeping you fat. Very deliberately.

[thecrownestt]

"Thecrownestt, where are your newest, spicy feedists posts?"

Great question. Why is it that my favorite maps on GeoGuessr are filled with cheaters. Oh, you're telling me you know every intersection in Ohio off the top of your head? Zero steps taken? And it took you 18 minutes to determine that? These folks are spawning maps until they get a set of five locations that can be mildly Google Mapped. Real heroes know that Route 39 connects from New Philadelphia to Carrollton. If you are facing southwest, guess what, you are aiming towards New Philly.

Uhhm.

[thecrownestt]

Are you straight orrrr

Yarp. Sorry fellas.

[thecrownestt]

My current favorite news story is how Hawaiian Bros had a promo for a free lunch the day after the Kansas City Royals score 6 or more runs in a home game, but the Royals managed to do that every day in a single week and it led to Hawaiian Bros giving out over $1,000,000 in free lunches. It became a meme-ified sensation.

So Hawaiian Bros turned it into a BOGO promo. You only get the free lunch if you purchase a full priced lunch.

The Kansas City citizens are outraged. The Royals are an awful team. Their fans were happy that their misery could be lucrative to the tune of a free $13 lunch.

The Hawaiian Bros chain is actually sensible in a way, they are saying their workers have basically been the hardest working workforce in the country and it is not sustainable.

The napkin math says the Hawaiian Bro workers were putting out 3-4 orders a minute, every minute, for a three hour lunch window every day for a week.

Imagine the mayhem of serving a meal every 15 seconds for three hours. Those poor workers.

[thecrownestt]

The ideal feedist relationship where you're fairly certain the feeder is a psycho, but the feedee might be the true freak the way she keeps showing up 50lbs fatter and loses her breath while eating her third plate of food.

[thecrownestt]

I just wanted to share that I have come to terms with the fact that while I do love being a feeder and seeing others get massive, I also sort of want to be fattened and fed by a dom. Like sure I’ve always been submissive, but allowing myself to give in and indulge has ramped that desire to submit up to 11.

This is the crux of what makes being a hard core hard core hard core feeder fascinating.

Some people really respond and do best when they are very seriously controlled.

From my perspective, it's weird because I actually like a quasi dominant woman. Tell me my shirt is stupid. Actually, pull my leash because I'm being a loud idiot. I love the feedback.

But that's the give and take. Someone will put up with my mandated Doofus Hour because nothing compares to when I go feral and decide to be a horrid, dominant bossy feeder. It's a cool balance.

It's such an overwhelming thing. A dominant feeder can be the answer to all your worries. Am I too fat. Am I lovable. Am I doing enough. Am I desired. Am I cared for.

The fantasy is there for a reason. Being locked up in a basement to be fattened up by an obsessive lover removes A LOT of life's woes. You can literally accomplish nothing except overeating for years on end and you'll be loved more and more. It's the easiest job in the world. Eat 5000-8000 calories a day and watch someone become obsessed over you.

[thecrownestt]

Can you see yourself doing a “Feed” style livestream bet with your future feedee?

I say no because there isn't a great market for feedee content where the feeder is visibly present. At least not when we are talking female feedee and male feeder. That's possibly the artistic value of feedist content - the feedee is dramatically the focal point. Any presence of the feeder incites jealously. For good reason, I would add. Feedees who are feedeeeeeeeeeees and love the lifestyle and come off as fun and personable are rare. Not as many people want to hear me trudging around in the background.

If I ever did content with a feedee, I'd do it behind the scenes. Setting up the livestream where she's parked in bed and doing a food challenge. Everything she needs magically shows up due to my working hands. The pressure to eat coming from both the fans and the hidden Satanic feeder dom activities I'd do later.

That said, there are plenty of good streaming activities/challenges to do where the audience can follow along. One thing I've seen in the past is the "Denver Nuggets" challenge, where you eat as many chicken nuggets as the number of points the Denver Nuggets score in a game. I don't think that's a good challenge due to food fatigue (128 chicken nuggets? No thanks), but I think there are plenty of ways to associate a live-event with eating goals.

One thing I've thought about is putting a feedee livestream challenge centered on minimizing steps. Keep it under 50 steps for the day. That's all only as good as how interactive fans might be, of course.

Side note, I always wondered what content a feeder could even do. I should probably create meal plans.

[thecrownestt]

As I’ve gotten fatter I have absolutely seen a change in how people - especially men - see me. I feel the laughter behind their smiles and sometimes it’s so embarrassing, but it makes some of the extreme parts of this fetish sound so appealing. It sounds so freeing to not have to worry about getting ready. Or, alternatively, never having one of those moments where I look frumpy and heavy because I don’t have any clothes that fit me except leggings that are getting tighter by the day and a big shirt to cover myself with. To not have to feel silly because I know I look like a girl made miserable by her fat. I wouldn’t have to interact with them at work when i’m tired and hurting because my feet can’t handle my weight and the pain is making me sensitive. No one would have to see that except me and my feeder. To be fattened to such a size that dignity is no longer necessary. It’s only necessary that I eat what is brought to be and stay put.

stoned and i hope this isn’t too much, or worse bad!

xo love your blog!

It's a precise thin line that I tread here.

I've dated feedees who love going out and about. To be fair, it is fun. They are on a date! They want to pretty-up in a cute outfit and makeup and show off their man. My ex and I would go out to dive bars on weekends, and it would be common that a skinny girl thinks she can flirt with me thinking I'd secretly be hoping I could get with a skinny girl. I'd be oblivious in a good way. I wouldn't even consider it flirting. I'm not into that. Then my ex got the joy of sweeping me away from her. The competition of it all...haha.

All that said, my default thought is there isn't a good reason to ever drag a feedee out in public. Walking to the car. Squeezing into the car. Slogging out of the restaurant after eating too much. Clothes. Seating. Etc. It's not a logistical impossibility...but I never want to be the oblivious feeder who thinks a feedee can do these things on a whim. I try my best to make sure she never has to tell me we need to slow down. I want every lazy activity to sound like it was my idea. It's much nicer than having someone have to speak up that they need a break.

Do I LIKE challenging a feedee to do these things? Yes. But that would say I like getting off on how the world views her as a hot fat mess. It works sometimes. It cannot be a rule of thumb.

[thecrownestt]

Closeted feedee girl/cavs fan. Fantasizing about a dynamic where feedee/feeder bet on sports. For example: I was so excited when the Cavs beat the pistons even though I KNEW THE KNICKS WOULD MASSACRE CLE. So maybe my optimism caused me to wager eating a whole cake or pack of bacon for every game the Cavs lose…. Is it enthusiasm for my team or maybe I wanna get fed like a little loser?<3

Stop being a closeted feedee! How are the feeders supposed to find you that way.

Not that I support the happiness of any NYC team, but I do love how the Knicks are basically 2018 Villanova. The Big East needs more respect for that. Heck, Stephon Castle and Champagnie on the Spurs are Big East alumni. Who needs football. FYI the Cavs had one Big East dude in Max Strus. You can't have a Depaul player as your only Big East rep.

I barely watched the Cavs this year. It's a fun team? But they ain't it? They somehow went 8-10 in the playoffs despite getting to the Conference Finals. That's an amazing stat.

All things aside, loser feedee stuffings is usually something that I want to do when MY favorite teams lose. As in, hey, I'm bummed out, how about I feed you to take the stress off my shoulders? Please?

Many good ways to do this. As if sports aren't a great excuse for those ridiculous bar food spreads.

I know you women. Yall love Buffalo Wild Wings. The whole concept is to give my stupid ass something to watch while you guzzle wings and other fried food.