#Sub feeder

[sleepyfa]

I honestly just wanna be a soft curvy bimbo for some big strong fat partner

I want to be their arm candy in cute little revealing outfits, always stuck to their side finding drinks and snacks throughout parties and events

Get to dress up in lingerie and be adored by them as they bend me over, feeling their fat gut ontop of me as they fuck me from behind

[quiet-admirer]

Oughghhh dom feedees are just the greatest of all time like yeah you can use me, you can throw your weight around and hold me down; you wanna bully me a little? Ok. Lord your size over me and shove your belly in my face... make me beg for your attention, or inflate your ego with my praise? Anything for u. Everything. I'm yours 😍🥰🥺

[soft-tummy-lovin]

hey i’m just saying

if you’re into intox

and also a sub feeder

i highly recommend having your partner chug beer while on top of you

their one hand between your legs, the other tipping the can to the sky, higher with every thick swallow, exaggerated juuust a bit for you, followed by a knowing grin because it had exactly the intended effect—likely another gush of lubrication coating their fingers

and you get to rub big circles over the round swell of their stomach that has just a bit of give, maybe tracing a bit of that sinful happy trail, as a treat

maybe if you’re lucky you’ll feel some of the sloshing under the surface, occasionally requiring them to pause, taking a deep breath with a hand on their belly since the constant movement jostles the contents under pressure

bonus points for a hearty belch relieving some of the tightness and making room for more

and once you’re finished and panting, they heave their heavy stomach forward to lay completely on top of you, pressing your knees to your shoulders, out of breath and sweating, and kiss you open-mouthed so you can taste the alcohol on their breath while they finish what they started

yaknow. just saying

[anna-spilt]

Submissive feeder thought of being tied up and gagged, forced to wacth a feedee tear into a massive feast. Muffled pleas to release my needy cock's chains, as they bask in unimagineable pleasure. I wacth them mock me, play with me. Knowing i'm nothing more then a mindless sack of puddy in their hands. New guitar strings, got it! Need a player 2, i'm always down for a couple of macthes. Want the yarn untangled, you just continue on that quilt, and i'll work my magic. Anything to worship their evergrowing mound of a body. Anything to quench my feedist lust.

[sleepyfa]

i need someone bigger than me to pin me down and kiss me thanks,

like id be so weak for someone using their bulk to throw me about and have their way with me because im going mindless about how their fat feels while pushing against me,

id be just too needy and weak against their weight to fight back, just about abe to grab their love handles and hold on for dear life

[envihellbender]

An immobile feedee starves their feeder

Rating: Mature (horror and kink)

Characters: Zachary Redvers, Horatio Ewart, Claud Ewart (OCs)

Content: Extreme weight gain, starvation, death

—

“Thank you,” Zach said politely as he took the cup. He gave a warm smile to the terrified young man before him before he sipped his tea from the chipped ceramic mug. He delicately placed it onto the stained coffee table and resisted the urge to look up towards the groaning, wheezing noise that came from the ceiling above him. He was sat on the threadbare sofa and opposite him was Horatio Auclair (now Ewart), someone he’d been trying to track down for weeks. He was a missing person who Zach was convinced was connected to the latest in a string of disappearances. He was convinced the terrifyingly skinny young man opposite him was the answer to everything he needed to know. However, one look at him and it was clear he was a victim, he was as pale as paper with sharp edges poking through his skin. His silver eyes were half lidded and he shivered even underneath his several layers of clothing.

“Who’d you say you were again? Are you a detective?” Horatio asked shakily, he was looking around the room as if trying to avoid Zach’s gaze. Where he didn’t look however was at the yellowing ceiling where strange snorting noises were emanating from.

“Yes. Apologies for not formerly introducing myself,” Zach smiled, folding one leg over the other. “My name is Zachary Redvers. A private detective, I was hired by a Mister and Missus Hector McCarthy to investigate the case of their missing son. Theodore.”

“I- I haven’t lived here very long,” Horatio rambled, he sounded terrified, a tremor in his throat with his eyes growing wet. “I don’t know anyone especially not anyone who’s-”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” Zach interrupted. “I’m dropping in on everyone in the area where the boy was last found. Maybe you’ve seen something peculiar lately that seems completely unrelated.”

“Um. Well. Alright. What does he look like? The boy who’s gone missing?”

“He’s seventeen, white, little short for his age, a few pockmarks on his cheeks, curly brown hair, green eyes, and a snaggletooth. He walks with a limp on his right side,” Zach repeated from his notebook. Or at least he was pretending to act as if he was reading, in reality he was watching Horatio and studying the dawning recognition on his face which he was trying to hide.

“Sorry, doesn’t sound familiar,” Horatio mumbled. He began chewing on his nails.

“Ah, I thought it was a long shot-” Zach hesitated as obscene, squelching noises rang down the stairs.

“I apologise, my father is extremely unwell, I take care of him. It’s why I moved here,” Horatio interrupted, his skeletal cheeks burning a deep pink in embarrassment.

“Oh your father, that would be Claud Ewart, yes?” Zach knew that was the only declared tenant of the house, and also that no one knew him to have any children.

“Well, yes it- it would-” Suddenly there was a loud banging and a shout of something wheezing and garbled that could have been ‘Tio’. “Excuse me, I have to see to him.” Horatio got to his feet and hurried to the stairs without a second glance and before Zach could reply. He noticed that Horatio was struggling for breath, he definitely seemed like a victim in all this. Would the Courts see it the same way? Zach waited until Horatio reached the top of the stairs and then quietly got to his feet, now he was alone he could get to the real reason he came.

It didn’t take him long to find the cellar, the house was small, it was tidy and clean, but the wallpaper curled away from the wall and the furniture seemed ancient. The kitchen was filled with barrels and crates, it smelled like an old butcher shop but no where near as appetising. Behind an old, barely used ironing board was a door to the cellar. Zach was expecting to need to pick the lock but as soon as he twisted the handle it opened, so suddenly he almost lost his footing. He snuck down the rotting stairs, worried that his boot would go through one as he heard a wheezing, furious yelling from above. When he reached the floor he coughed and spluttered, he took out his handkerchief and covered his mouth and nose. He recognised that smell.

The cellar was badly kept, the floor was damp and there was a strange substance congealing on the floor. If Zach had to guess he’d say it was liquified organs, blood, and waste that had been left to rot. There were two rooms in the cellar, one that was filled with rubbish and clutter, that had scurrying noises filling the air with the distant shouts from above. When Zach entered the second room he froze. This is what he’d been looking for, he was a mixture of horrified and relieved. Before him was a large pile of bones, bigger than he’d ever seen before. When he inspected them further the several rib cages confirmed they were human without the need for any testing. They looked as if they had been sucked clean by animals, or something. As he rummaged through them he deduced there would be at least twenty adults worth, perhaps more. He was so focused that he didn’t notice the shouting had stopped. It when he was holding a collarbone and studying it that the voice interrupted him.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t pry too much,” Horatio said causing Zach to drop the bone and spin on his heal, his cheeks burning red when he saw two genuinely sad grey eyes looking at him.

“I- I apologise. But I had a job to do,” Zach answered, had he been found by the killer he’d have lied. As it was he thought the truth might win Horatio over. “You don’t have to be afraid. If you come with me, I can tell them your father made you do this-”

“What- no. I can’t-” Horatio swallowed and his eyes looked up. “No. I can’t leave Father. I’m sorry. I’ll have to bring you to him.”

“Why don’t we go back upstairs for a chat? Or perhaps we could go somewhere, I could buy you something to eat?” Zach offered. Horatio’s eyes widened in desire, something primal and desperate to be fed filling him.

“I- you- well- I erm-” He spluttered, his skinny arms wrapping around his torso. “I- you- really? Like what?”

“Well, what’s your favourite?”

“Baked potato?” The absolute desperation that Horatio showed at such a simple food made Zach’s chest ache.

“Absolutely.”

“I- okay. Well, erm,” Horatio paused. “Father wanted me to bring you upstairs anyway. So I’ll have to. But. Erm. Maybe we don’t tell him who you are. And then you leave?”

“We leave,” Zach corrected.

“Yeah. We leave.” Horatio’s tone was uncertain and he gently took Zach’s wrist and pulled him firmly towards the stairs. The detective wasn’t convinced he’d gotten Horatio on his side and this wasn’t a trap - but he was out of the basement and that was a step-forward. Horatio wasn’t strong, and even though his grip was attempted to be firm it wasn’t. He was too weak and hungry and to do so. When they reached the kitchen Horatio stopped and turned to Zach. “I told him you had just moved in to the boarding house next door. Said you wanted to know some directions and we got talking.”

“Oh, I- yes. Thank you. Really, that’s really brave of you, Horatio,” Zach said, his rich brown eyes blinked a few times in shock and his lips parted as he found himself truly stunned. “Can I ask about the cellar-”

“They… were the others. He’s not-” Horatio swallowed. “He’s not my Father. He- I’ve only lasted this long because I kept bringing him- there were twenty five before me. Twenty five that fed him until they starved. And I brought him eight. I didn’t- I didn’t want to die. I don’t want-”

“Hey,” Zach interrupted as he saw Horatio getting more and more panicked, he placed one light brown hand on Horatio’s shoulder. “I believe you.” There was a wheezing loud shout from above that made Horatio wince. “So what’s the plan?

“If you pretend to be the neighbour then- then he should be- he should let you go. And. And I can-you’ll protect me?” Horatio asked. His voice was a whine, almost like a lost child’s. Zach forced a smile, attempting to seem stronger and braver than he was.

“Yes. Absolutely. What- what would he do if he doesn’t let me go?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Let’s… You don’t want to know.” Horatio didn’t say any more and took Zach’s wrist again, pulling him upstairs, and he realised they Horatio just desperately needed some human contact. Zach followed dutifully, repressing the urge to cough and vomit when he felt the intense, overwhelming smell of sweat fill his body as he climbed the stairs.

“Papa,” Horatio said, his voice softer and more submissive than it had been downstairs. “This is Zach. From next door?” He spoke as he opened the door and pulled Zach inside, and the detective for the first time in a long time after years of cases froze.

Before now, the biggest person he’d seen was the five hundred pound police chief, but this creature could have swallowed him whole. The upstairs seemed to be predominantly flesh, mounds of sweat and filth covered adipose that was at the top a grunting, groaning, wheezing head that was just a thick appendage sinking into a huge neck tire. Zach felt his blood and organs turn to ice and then water, he began to wonder if either him or Horatio really would ever leave.

[quiet-admirer]

I'm not religious but today's shower thought was that christians in pop culture seem to always use praying to ask god for stuff but that seems like it should be blasphemous or something, like, why are you asking about you when you should be worshipping and offering yourself to god etc., and since all roads in my head lead to feedism, I now have this image of a submissive feeder kneeling and begging to be allowed to feed their feedee and the feedee gently cupping their jaw and being like, 'spend less time thinking about what you want to do for me and more time listening and worshipping. This is about what I want and what my orders are for you' (they want the feeder to beg to feed them but that's beside the point)

[softservefeeder]

the natural urge to be dominated by a belly

[feedingandsubbing]

This is my jar of kinks! I’m a super subby feeder so look at them with that in mind 😌

Hearted jars are extra extra strong likes

[bigbearenjoyer]

this is from the pov of a sub feeder, so public teasing would be me being teased for getting so obviously worked up watching my (imaginary🥲) dom finish his food + my leftovers in a restaurant 😵‍💫

anything about force or causing discomfort is a huge nono for me personally, if you don’t want to eat, i won’t (and quite literally can’t ;)) force you, that’s how it goes from a positive relationship to unhealthy very fast, boundaries are a must!! who says i can’t just cuddle up to you and watch tv together instead anyways :]

[quiet-admirer]

the only reason I haven't posted about this before is because it's been like 6 months since the idea first came to me and I can't think of a good or hot way to phrase it but like, I can't stop thinking about a feedee making their feeder keep them well fed and take care of them all the time and feel them up and give them head and stuff, but with each task the feedee makes them do, they're basically very slowly making the feeder create more and more tasks for themselves as the feedee gains weight.

So like, bringing them more food as their appetite grows, doing more chores around the house as things like bending or fitting into tight places becomes harder, spending time looking online for clothes for them as the options get fewer and farther between, more fat for them to appreciate and worship, more of them to wash in the shower, eventually having to get the feedee off when they can't reach anymore...

Yeah, just like, making a feeder make themselves more and more tethered to their feedee, more responsibilities, making more fat to worship, until all their day is just spent completely devoted their feedee ❤️

Like forcing someone to dig their own grave except instead of a grave it's love and devotion and pleasure?? Lmao

(Real post someday but here's an unfiltered brain dump for now)