#dom feedist

[mortiskiller]

Pignapped

Content warning: Contains violent language, physical harm, non-consensual feedism and other acts. This is just a story, don't be weird.

A commission for @collegefatty10

He was on the way back to the car after grabbing a pizza. It was routine at this point in his life. Eating all day without regard to his ever-increasing weight had led to some interesting eating habits. A breakfast sandwich in the morning had become three sandwiches with hash browns and two doughnuts. Lunch steadily grew into a multi-hour affair with trips to multiple drive-thru visits, door dash orders, desk drawers filled with snacks, and not to mention a new habit of pre-gaming before dinner. Driving to get his pizza led to stopping for fries, or nuggets, or a combo meal, or all of that, before he picked up his next greasy calorie bomb. This routine made his day predictable, pigs are simple after all. The same places and employees watched him fatten from the low 300s to his heaving 430 pounds. Day after day, pound after pound he kept ordering more. As his waddle slowed, his gut hung lower and lower, his face getting red and sweaty from the 20-foot walk from the car to the pizzeria, he was an easy target.

I had seen him months before on a lunch break. My eyes shot open as saw a hanging lard pile of a man puff his way into McDonald’s. It was a passing horny thought that I would see him again, maybe add it to my mental bank of images and memories to jerk off to later. Yet, he kept coming to the same places again, and again, and again till it was too much to resist. I mapped out his route, timed him as ordered, and ate his feasts. Noted how he favored his right leg as he waddled, his arms struggling to carry the ever-increasing amount of food he ordered. As I watched him, I couldn't help but notice the way his right leg bore the brunt of his weight, the limp a constant reminder of his indulgent lifestyle. I wondered how long he had been living like this, how many times he had ordered a pizza and not once thought about the consequences. I knew he would be easy to take. Easy to keep docile, dumb, and growing.

I waited till the moon was just a sliver in the night sky outside his favorite pizzeria. Checking my watch, as it ticked over to 8:40 pm, his sedan pulled into the parking lot, the front driver’s side sitting low as my soon-to-be pet pig drove. I watched from my hiding spot as he struggled to haul his massive frame out of the driver's seat, grunting and wheezing with the effort. The scent of greasy pizza wafted through the air as he waddled towards the entrance, his heavy footfalls reverberating on the pavement.

Once he was safely inside i made my move, slipping silently into the shadows and following him at a distance. Inside, he placed his usual order - a large meat lover's pizza with extra cheese and a side of garlic knots. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he paid for his meal, oblivious to the predator lurking in the darkness behind him.

As he turned to leave, I struck swiftly and silently, wrapping a thick cloth bag over his head. He struggled weakly for a moment before I pushed him back to the car. With ease, I kicked his right knee from the back and watched as he tumbled into the truck. His muffled moans of confusion and fear barely registering over the hum of the engine. He was mine now, another victim added to my collection.

I paused for a moment, considering my next move. He was a strange yet fascinating addition to my collection, and I relished the thought of having him under my control. I could see him squirming in the back, his heavy breathing and muffled cries a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

I parked the car in a secluded spot, away from any prying eyes. The moon now a hazy glow, bathing everything in a sickly light. I approached the car, opened the rear door, and lifted my newest prize out of the vehicle.

He was heavier than he looked, his bulk making it difficult for me to handle him. But I had experience, and I was patient. I carried him to a nearby abandoned warehouse, the cold metal of the hinges echoing as I pushed open the door.

Once inside, I placed him on a table, still wearing the cloth bag over his head.

"Hey, buddy," I cooed to the pig, my voice low and sinister. "You know, you're not going to like what's going to happen to you. I've got some pretty wicked plans for you. I'm going to fatten you up, relentlessly, until there's barely anything left of your dignity or self-esteem. You see, we're going to use you, and we're going to pleasure you in ways you can't even imagine."

The pig let out a soft grunt, the sounds muffled by the cloth bag still securing his head. I chuckle, a dark and twisted sound that reverberates through the cold, empty warehouse. Taking a step closer, my shoes scraped against the rough concrete floor.

"I've been collecting things like you for years," I whispered, running his hands over his captive's plump body. "I've come across so many of your kind, just like you, loving your comfort and your food. And I've had my way with them all. Oh, I've had so much fun, and you're next on my list."

As I approach the pig, who is still covered in the bag, he lets out a soft whimper and shakes his head, trying to free himself. His body wobbles with each attempt as he struggles against his bonds. Belly aching with his last meal the movement causes an unintended blech from beneath the bag. Swiftly, I remove the bag from the pig's head, revealing a face red, sweating, and fearful. The pig's eyes are wide and terrified as he stares up at me, taking in his new surroundings - cold concrete walls bare of any decoration, a king-sized bed next to a small bathroom, and a large full-body mirror.

"Look at you," I say with a hint of disgust mixed with fascination, "just look at what you've become."

"You know what you are now?" I ask quietly, “You are my plaything, a toy, a fat weak blubbery toy!” my digs deep into his belly hang, bringing a painful whine from the pig’s mouth.

"You are mine, completely and entirely," I continue, my voice growing menacing, "and I'm going to do whatever I want with you at my command." The pig tries to struggle again, but his movements are weak and pathetic. "Oh, but first things first," I say, walking over to the bed where I had left a set of handcuffs.

I restrained the pig on the bed, at once reluctant and terrified to yield to such volition.

"You'll get used to it, trust me," I say, my fingers tracing curious paths over his bulging form. "Maybe then you'll even enjoy it."

With the pig cuffed to the headboard and footboard, I began to study him, taking in every last curve and fold of his form. He looked so helpless and vulnerable like a lost child in desperate need of a firm hand to guide him.

Noticing the glaze that had settled over his eyes, I thought, 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

Methodically, I began to examine him as if he were an exotic creature, taking note of each flaw that had been revealed by my rough handling.

He would be my plaything, my plump and innocent pig. And I would use him, treat him, and abuse him in ways that would break him completely. I would fatten him up and weaken him until his body could no longer bear the weight of his own flesh. I would use every inch of this vulnerable creature, making him my own personal toy.

As I stood over him, watching him squirm pathetically on the bed, my mind raced with all the ways in which I could degrade him. My hands moved over his flesh, feeling him shake beneath my touch. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the softness of his fur, the weight of the fat that filled his body. It was all so delicious, so intoxicating, that I found myself growing hard at the thought of what I could do with him.

My fingers brushing feather-light against his skin, teasing him with every passing second. It was then that I decided upon the next part of his degradation. With a smirk playing on my lips, I retrieved a bucket from the floor, its contents sloshing against the sides with every move I made. It was filled to the brim with a half-gallon of lard-filled slop, designed to both fuel his growing hunger and make him feel even more vulnerable in his restraints.

As I drew closer, the pig let out a small whine, his eyes widening in fear and anticipation. He knew what was coming. I brought the bucket towards his mouth, and with a practiced hand, I tilted it so that the contents would flow easily. A funnel was inserted into his mouth, and with a cruel smirk, I watched as the slop began to pour down his throat, filling him to the brim.

End of Part 1.

[overstuffd]

No baby, of course you can't eat a whole cake.

Just have as much as you want now, and we can save the rest for later.

Here I poured you a glass of milk to wash it down with too.

I cut you a couple slices - well you always get a second one anyway, I thought I'd save you time.

Gone already? Let me grab another piece - no, I insist. You deserve to indulge yourself a little.

How much have you had? Why are you worrying about a silly thing like that. Here, this is just a small piece, I'm sure you have room.

Come on cutie, don't act shy - I know you want to ask for more. Here, I won't even cut a piece, just break off a little morsel and feed it to you.

See? That was easy to gulp down wasn't it? I bet you can eat another little piece like that.

And another.

And another.

Come on now, be a good pet and finish the last piece, you're so close now. It would be a shame to leave such a little bit left over. There you go, slump back gorgeous and feel your gut spread. You did so good for me.

I knew you could do it. That's why I got another cake for tomorrow - just in case there weren't any leftovers.

[adiproseprose]

Don't get me wrong, being crushed by your feedee is great, but have you ever made a larder so weak that if they ever try to stand up without your help, they just *plop* back down to wherever their sitting like the blobs they are? Too heavy to get up without building momentum, watching their bellies swing and right when it grazes the floor, the slightest push to their wobbly chest sends them crashing backwards, cellulite dimpled ass spreading out beneath them? Pinning them to the bed with nothing but your grip around their swollen wrist and the weight of their belly pressing against the muscles in their back?

Pretty soon gravity will take over the job of keeping them pinned to one spot anyways.

[jomax93]

Welcome Pig

welcome to my dungeon pig. This is where you live now. Your purpose in life now is to eat for me and serve all my sexual fantasy's and desires. I own you and I want that belly kept full.

[actuallyitschunkagain]

Oooooo look what I found 🙈

[overstuffd]

It's about always encouraging you to have that extra treat.

Stopping at every bakery that catches your eye to get you a little something sweet.

Bringing you a comforting coffee in the morning, and maybe another as a pick me up in the afternoon.

Fixing you a hefty plate of cheese, crackers and grapes when you finish work to keep your strength up.

Pouring that second glass of wine at dinner, and topping it up for you.

Cutting you an extra- large slice of cake afterwards, then encouraging you to finish mine.

Making sure you're always taken care of, you're always spoiled and you're always full.

[mschubbykat]

Anyone want to stuff me into a food coma today I'm so hungry

[adiproseprose]

Here are some good goals for aspiring death feedee's [in an attempt at chronological order]

Drinking melted butter/ice cream/margarine/ranch dressing out of gluttony

so fat you develop a waddle

needing an oxygen cannula to breathe

unable to bend your arms due to how fat they are

heart palpations after you masturbate or have sex

your first reinforced bed

unable to make it up the stairs

belly smacking against your thighs when you walk

belly forces your thighs apart when you sit up in bed/on the couch

giving yourself diabetes

can no longer sit up on your own without being pinned by your massive tits/gut

cellulite on your face/the back of your neck

casual chest pains (while walking, lying in bed, eating taking a shit, etc.)

so wide you take up an entire couch

your first bariatric bed

too wide for a toilet/commode (bonus points if you already need a diaper)

your joints are too swollen to close

stretch marks look *angry*, violently red, borderline transluscent skin so you look like an adipose swollen balloon

unable to reach your pussy/cock anymore

reblog this with your own goals/goals you've hit already

[fedcar273]

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A post shared by Fatbeachbabe (@fatbeachbabe)

[bigandplump]

She started off slowly at first.

Ice cream every night. A big breakfast every morning. Never finishing her meals. Always sliding her leftovers to you. Every meal was more buttery, more cheesy, more salty, more, more, more.

It was a subtle change at first. First your once tight pecs started to soften. Then your thighs began to spread a little more each time you sat down. The sitting was becoming more frequent. Then sitting down became squeezing in. You thought this was the end of your carefully crafted physique, in truth it was just the beginning. You hardly noticed the lines between your abs vanishing into your forming belly.

As your belly began to swell her fixation with it grew. She'd rest her hand on it. She'd rub it after dinner. The servings grew. She'd caress it while you slept. She started rubbing it during dinner. At first the growth was slow. Week by week your belly lurched outward. Then, perhaps finally, your straining metabolism gave way and your growth exploded.

You used to jog up the stairs until you realized your new moobs were bouncing on every step. Within weeks you were taking stairs one step at a time, taking deep breaths as you held your arm under your protruding belly to give your back a break. Chairs began to groan and strain under the intense pressure of your growing girth. Your belly entered every room before the rest of you. Now you're the largest person in every room you enter. Your subordinates peak at your immense belly nervously when you chat in the elevator. The bigger it grows the more they stare at it. You love it.

Today's Saturday, your favorite day of the week. She's baking a cake as you sit in your chair, smoking your cigar, and rubbing your humungous belly as it growls beneath your straining shirt. Tonight You'll eat until you can't eat any more. She may even break out the funnel if she wants you to be particularly huge for what comes next. A small protest may escape, but you will succumb to her will. When your belly has reached its throbbing, pregnant maximum she will get on her knees and oil your swollen mound. She may even choke your cock down her throat. Finally, when you're stuffed to the brim and oiled to her liking, you'll take her on the table. Your girth will nearly crush her. You're only a week, maybe two, from shattering the table with your growing body. Her hoarse voice will scream your name in delight as your thrusting belly lords a mighty shadow over her.

Help us grow and subscribe on Patreon for exclusive spicy content 🍑😋 patreon.com/BigandPlump

[growmydarling]

just one more pound and i'll let you wear one size up. sure your tummy will still hang out of the bottom of an 3XL shirt, but a little less than the XXL one has been for the last few months 🥰

[bellyyearner]

Feedist Kinktober 2024 Day 4: Leashed

Word Count: 1504

Thankyou to @fatguarddog for the theme list!

Stuffing, sub x owner, large feedee x small feeder, mobility issues, gender neutral POV

This was actually really fun to write and I may incorporate leashes into other stuff I write now. The thought of a leash through someones sleeve so "holding hands" is still kinky is getting me rn

The lock clicks into place as you trace the length of the leash with your gaze and peer into their eyes, from your knees they feel so far away, so far above you in body and mind. Their hand caresses the side of your face before they lean back and take in your expansive form

"God you look cute like this, just the perfect pig"

You're about to say something in return but they stop you

"Uh uh, no no, livestock can't speak"

Your nose is tickled by the snout they strapped to you as you smile, a sneeze leaving your lips.

"Close, but that's not the sound you make piggy. Come on, let me hear it"

Bashfully you start to grunt and squeal, the embarrassment forming sweat between your billowing rolls. It didn't help that you were naked from the shoulders down, on your cushion like knees against the hardwood. Nor did it help that your partner was wearing a deep black outfit adorned with metal rivets and loops, leaving little to the imagination. Your hips begin to roll side to side, trying to help you ease yourself into this new role as you look to the floor still letting out the sounds you know they want to hear.

They take notice of your pitiful attitude and tug the leash, forcing you to look upwards

"Come on piggy, to the kitchen we go"

Their eyes are as black as their outfit, rimmed with white reminding you of their pure nature. This was just one night, one night of self indulgent fantasy you agreed to because of how much you love them. So you place your hands on the ground and begin to crawl, your belly brushing the ground with long strokes against the cold hardwood. The over hang of your belly sinking further back towards your thighs, you stop for a moment to adjust, just wanting to shift your belly forward and make the journey easier. They tug the leash harder this time, not enough to take you off balance but enough so that you whip your head up to them

"Good pigs keep their head up and eyes forward, just ignore the difficulties and let me do the thinking for you, ok my little glutton?"

A short moment passes but it feels way longer, before you snort in response and accept tonights fate. They start walking again but this time faster, not letting you set the pace as before

"I'm not hearing enough noise pig."

The sweat is dripping off you from both the exertion and embarrassment and you let them hear the symphony they want between sputtering coughs

By the time you reach the kitchen you're exhausted, you haven't had to do this much activity in months, your partner was usually content and enthusiastic to just spoil you as you relax on the couch all day. Always getting up to grab deliveries, refilling your drinks and plates without questions, massaging and caressing your distended middle after stuffings. Indulging your fantasies, you thought you were fulfilling all of theirs but clearly you were wrong, they have a more domineering side you didn't have the opportunity to meet before.

"Sit up piggy and lean back against the dishwasher"

You do as you're told, but the weight of your legs and heft of your belly make it difficult, you're panting, trying to hide it with long breaths and contented sighs

"Just let it out baby. Let me hear how tired your gluttony has made you"

They have the reigns, they have the control, and they have the sex appeal, just give in. You thought to yourself as you finally lean back into the cold metal of the dishwasher. Your partner links the handle of the leash around one of the drawer handles as they go to the fridge. Swinging it open with a calculated passion and staring you down like prey. Their piercing gaze like a void dragging you in, the black holes of their eyes making you submit mentally even more than you had in the previous months.

"Good news pig. Looks like your fat ass was too lazy to raid the fridge while I was at work"

They pull out 4 cartons of heavy cream and toss one to the floor between your knees, right in front of the soft underbelly that has covered your genitals since summer last year.

"Drink it"

You pick it up and pop off the cap as they pull out the blender.

Dumping 2 of the cartons into the blender before tossing the fourth at the floor in your direction. Without looking at you they repeat the order

"Drink it, both of those better be gone before I have this ready"

You snort in response and they smile, you notice their thighs quiver a little and in that moment you recognize how careless you'd been when it came to fulfilling their fantasies. You chug the first carton faster, determined to make them proud and satisfied. As the first carton was done draining down your throat you see them pull a cake and 2 pints of ice cream from the fridge. You lean forward, reaching for the 2nd carton, the leash pulled taught against your neck as the drawer slides out and your gargantuan gut presses against the floor, you grasp the carton, a belch escapes your lips again. Your partner stifles a laugh before locking back into their serious dom persona. Lining their face with cold indifference as they dump the half melted still chunky ice cream into the blender.

You chug the second carton as fast as you can, letting your moans escape as you jiggle your lower belly. They slice the cake, dropping slice after slice into the blender until half the cake is left. Placing the top back onto the blender you hear it whirr to life and you watch the sugary fattening mixture coalesce together into a delicious mass. You remove the carton from your lips, dropping it to the floor, the hollow sound completely overwhelmed by the blender.

As the sound of thousands upon thousands of calories swirling around comes to a close, your partner removes the blender from its base and pops off the lid. Standing before you as they inspect their fattened lazy hog.

"...Wow. You are one greedy fat ass you know that? Dutifully sucking down the cream without a thought, do you even know how many calories you just fucking drank?... Of course you don't, what am I saying. Tilt your fucking head back pig."

They approach you with slow calculated steps and swipe a funnel off the counter, before popping it into your mouth and stick their foot beneath your growing gut. Pressing their toes into your fat pad, they lean over you and begin to pour, quickly filling it to the top before setting the blender down and grabbing the leash. Slowly they wrap it around their hand as you suck down the sugary slop, ensuring they have a tight grip

"What a good piggy..."

You moan through the funnel, the pressure building in your midsection rising and their words hitting your ears causing you to grow incredibly horny. They wiggle their toes and press their foot deeper, you groan

"Oh does my hog like that? I'll keep that in mind, looks like your getting ready for a refill though, would you like a break?"

Quickly you shake your head no, it must've surprised them because their was a substantial pause, but a devilish smile bled through the silence as they dropped the leash to grab the blender again. Pouring the rest of the fattening concoction into the funnel, they kneel down in front of you while holding the funnel above your head, slipping a finger into the link where they locked the leash to your collar. Leaning over you, dominating all you can see, you look into their eyes again as you keep sucking it down, the void pulling you deeper as you hear their heavy breathing.

Both lost in the pleasure and moment, time moves quickly. You can't really remember how long it took to get to bed, or how long it took to get off the ground, you just remember the sound your gut made as it scraped across the cold hardwood and the difficulty it was to move mere inches. Your gut has filled the space beneath you completely.

But you found yourself on the bed with a belly so tight it shone crimson, and their cute evil laugh as they lauded you for your gluttony, clearly enjoying the absolute trainwreck they were witnessing.

As you could feel the food coma coming on they said one final thing that made you know it would all be alright.

"Don't worry pig. Tomorrow you'll have the day you're used to and my loving caring nature will return, but nights like these are gonna happen more often ok? Get some sleep sweet heart"

Your energy is all but gone so you just snort in response.

[softfatboytoy]

Can't stop thinking about how much I want to play with a fat boy who's shorter than me. I want to pin his arms above his head and hold them there while I use my free hand to explore and tease his soft body, toy with his sensitive chest for a bit before I make my way to that gorgeous belly...

Maybe I'd keep him pinned against the wall as I kissed and nibbled my way down his neck and chest, feeling him struggle against me as I sink my teeth into his fat tummy, leaving behind a trail of marks as I continue my leisurely journey downward...

[fattenupbuttercup]

So I'm trying to see something....

Would a picture of my feedees' growing Santa gut push my follower count past 2K so I can launch my OF?👀🎅💋🤷🏻‍♀️

LMK down below... before they change their mind... 🍪💌

[adiproseprose]

‘God, I can’t wait for you to explode’

‘Just imagine this helpless piggy too big to walk’

‘No doubt she’ll be immobile soon…’

The addicting tight rush of fullness settles in my bloated gut. My third straight pitcher of weight gain shake collapses to the floor, and I struggle to shake the numbness out of my toes. If I could see them I’d know they were swollen and startlingly red, but I can’t see shit past my massive tits, hanging low to the center of my belly. I sink back into the couch and rub myself off, sausage fingers snaking into my underwear. My chins serve as a resting place for my exhausted head. 

I’ve always been something of an extremist. There was a time where I would count the calories on a baggy of baby carrots. I was a whore in every sense of the word, skinny as a pencil and duller than an eraser. I didn’t need anybody, I had the attention of every boy I made eye contact with. Skipped college and became a model, traveled all over the world. If you want, you can get my before and after shots. 45 bucks a piece, 112 vrs. 675. 

Nobody pays attention to you when you’re fat. 

I kicked the ball down the hill when my agency fired me, parents claiming I was giving their kids bulimia or some bullshit. The ball began to collect years of sugar, fat, salt and grease, hardly able to get out of bed without a mouthful of fresh endorphins. My veins swelled with lard, stomach overstretched and doubled over onto my fat padded knees. 

It was all very discouraging at first. I heard the gossip as I toddled along to my convenience store for my nightly dinner of mars bars and oven fries, about how tiny I used to be, if I was really the same girl. ‘Nobody wants to rub out a fat girl’. 

I drank a lot. Partied a lot. Had a lot of shitty, desperate sex that ended after 4 minutes with a sigh and a cigarette. Then I met this guy. He grabbed my belly and afterwards told me I could make a killing if I kept gaining weight. I told him to fuck off but I looked into it. Feedism is a deep, dark, somewhat fucked up world. But money is green, so I did some analysis. What did they like about these women, big asses, big tits, double chins? These women are making thousands of dollars just to eat. 

I piled on fat like batter in a cake tin. I’m round up top, double belly and huge boobs. Thickness in my face that I don’t love, but my ass is rounder than the moon. 

“Ohhhh…fuck *HIC*...fuck me. I might’ve had too much, guys.” I whine to the camera. I rub and shake my belly. 

“BURRPPP!” 

I like to read the comments while I masturbate. I scroll, an endless stream of aroused fans. 

‘700 bucks if you do a fourth!!111’

‘7 HUNDO!!!!!’

Over and over again this bitch. I roll my eyes. “500 dollars for another one Mr…Pigfarmer?” 

‘YES!!!’

He donates. And I fix the shake on my coffee table, bringing it to my lips. I wince. I really do not wanna throw up. 

“Gonna do this for you, Pigfarmer. Whoooo boy..” 

I down the shake in maybe 2 minutes and let the empty pitcher land on the floor with the others. “So *huff* fucking…fat. Can barely get… off the couch anymore..ughhhh…” 

‘I will feed you until your fucking feet fall off’

‘I can help you off the couch!!!’

‘I’ll feed you and fuck you until you can’t move baby’

This isn’t enough. I need to be fat enough to where anything is monetizable. Walking out to the car. Going up stairs. I’ve made a few sets of my rolling out bed, when my joints are aching and my waddle is exaggerated the most. 

I don’t get much out of this besides the money. If anything, it makes me feel gross. But I blend in effortlessly, I’ve gone so deep. I’m not a feedee. I am a fat fucking whale who happens to be fat because it makes me ridiculous amounts of money. It makes it a lot easier to smile. 

“Alright, guys, I’m gonna hop off. See you guys next time!! Love you!” 

I click. 1700 dollars from an hour stream. Not too bad. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and drum my belly. I’m numb. I’m covered in grease, shake powder and cum. I can barely make it through my day without that tight fullness now. I wheeze deeply as I contemplate what to eat for dinner.