#feedism.

[housecow]

yes, the top of my boobs are a place to rest my hands now :3

[chubote]

Feeling fat in the kitchen again…

[justonemorebite]

failed weight loss is so hot. failed weight loss + regaining beyond your highest weight?

just give up, honey, you know it’s too late for you. you’re too far gone <3

[hedonists-den]

Concept: Feedism Thruple

Two people start dating, fall for one another, and become comfortable enough to confess something: they're both feeders. It's a curveball, definitely. Neither of them are feedees in the least, and they're not interested in mutual gaining. What to do? Their relationship is perfect aside from this, but it isn't something either of them can deny.

So, they discuss the possibility of adding a 3rd to their relationship: a serious feedee. Someone who is ready to completely throw ambition aside and basically become a doted-on house pet. The couple can have their feeder desires fulfilled, they maintain their loving relationship, and the feedee gets to be double overfed.

After a little while of searching, they find someone perfect. All three have been chatting for a while, they've met up a few times, and they're all in agreement for the feedee to move in to the feeders' house.

It begins immediately. All parties are eager to start. The feeders make sure their feedee is eating 5 full meals per day, with snacks. The feedee is completely adored. Hand fed, encouraged, caressed, just spoiled beyond belief. The arousal that builds as feedings continue is unrivaled. Absolute euphoria.

The effects of such infatuation on all sides is...startling. In just a short amount of time, the feedee has piled on weight like crazy. With food and attention in excess, their body can't help but swell to more than twice the size of either of their feeders. Every need and desire is fulfilled. They're enabled to be the ever-fattening partner that each of them wanted.

For the feeders, just having a feedee that they can share is a strong aphrodisiac. Not only can they not keep their hands off their fattened pet, but they can't keep their hands off each other. The house is just permeated with desire and indulgence.

[mountainfeeder]

🚨🚨VERY IMPORTANT: SCAMMER ALERT🚨🚨(Feedism Tumblr)

OK. So I've began to notice something on feedism Tumblr. I'll keep it brief and simple:

Almost all of the accounts using the #ao3feed tag are a collection of scam accounts. They all have vague and incredibly similar bios, all following the same predictable formula.

More importantly they all are using STOLEN PHOTOS and are gaining MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TRACTION looking for feeders, who I can only assume they beg for money from which is why they're running this whole racket.

Idk why there are so many accounts, and I don't know who's running them but those are the facts as they are. If you see an account using #ao3feed or having a bio that follows this formula:

20 something

Feedee

CW (something)

GW (Big number usually somewhere around 400-700)

Please report them. And please spread awareness of this. That is all

[growmydarling]

[bigolbadblog]

a feeder who's like "i'll awaken appetites you never knew you had. i'll introduce you to cravings deeper and stranger than you could imagine. a world of whole new pleasures. i'm gonna rewire your entire brain." and then they teach their feedee an appreciation for pineapple on pizza

[dankeyes]

💫

Im so bloated after a day of drinking beer, 6 down and more to go

[fatbellyboysstuff]

I've seen many feedees write about how theyd love to be able to not work and just laze around, being spoiled like princesses/princes. and as much as I love this for them (I hope you get to live that dream someday!!) I can't really relate because I actually love my job/going to work! so here are some fantasies and thoughts for those of us who want to keep working:

getting fast food breakfast at a drive through on your way to work everyday

your feeder packing you a big lunch everyday

your uniform becoming tighter and tighter, having to ask for a size up constantly until your boss tells you they don't have larger sizes

eating so much lunch it'd have been enough for three of your coworkers and then trying to secretly rub your aching gut at your desk

having a snack drawer in your desk, snacking mindlessly while working, easily getting an extra 1000 kcal in every day

your ever fattening belly starting to push into the desk, your chair digging into your love handles more and more

your coworker bringing in cake on their birthday and giving you two pieces without you even asking

everyone around you talking about their newest fad diet while you are so proud of reaching your latest gaining goal

noticing your new fat getting in the way more and more, no matter what you do.

getting home all tired after being on your feet all day, your feeder waiting for you with a large home cooked meal. stuffing your gut til you feel like you're going to burst, leaving you still bloated the next morning

spending your days off just laying around, eating and eating and eating, your work clothes ever so slightly smaller on your next work day

your boss reassigning you to different tasks that are less physically demanding, making you burn less calories and growing fatter even faster

feeling yourself getting distracted from your work more often because of all the new softness on your body

being so aware of your size all the time, feeling your body jiggle with the slightest movement, getting more confident the more you grow

just some things I keep on thinking about, if you have more, feel free to add some! 🥰🤤

[housecow]

can y’all tell i eat very well 🥺

[chubote]

Tried on an old favorite shirt of mine from a few years ago. Beware of flying buttons…

[justonemorebite]

you’re class III, morbidly obese, because that’s as high as the bmi goes. there’s no bigger obesity class to label you as. you can’t say how obese you truly are.

your scale says ‘error’ because it can’t withstand the pressure of all your weight. it’s been the same number for months. you can’t say how much you truly weigh.

the biggest size at the stores are too tight against your swollen body. your clothes can’t fit on you the way they used to. you don’t know what size you need to wear.

your tape measure can’t loop around your belly. there aren’t enough inches to reach around anymore. you don’t know how wide your fat actually spans.

you’ve outgrown all the labels. you can’t be measured anymore. your obesity is unfathomable.

[hedonists-den]

I stroll through the grocery store, cart loaded with assorted junk food. And not one of those half carts either. A full-sized cart full of fresh baked pastries, boxes of snack cakes, frozen pizzas, massive sub sandwiches, bags of chips and candy, various pints of ice cream, cases of full-sugar soda, just an obscene amount of unhealthy garbage.

By now, the employees know me by name with how often I'm there to indulge your cravings. I bring my haul over to a checkout aisle and start unloading, but I figure one more candy bar wouldn't hurt, and I add it to the pile. The checker begins the extensive process of scanning all the items, and I can see the look on their face.

None of them are really shocked anymore. When they see me, they know they'll be scanning pounds and pounds of junk food. And judging by the size difference between you and me when they last saw you, I think they know where it's going. You're not with me this time, of course. You've gotten too lazy and too heavy to be waddling around the grocery store anymore, especially when you can trust me to fetch everything your greedy heart desires.

Getting it all inside is a full task in and of itself. I practically get a full arm workout hauling all the bags from my car, through the door, and to the kitchen. You know I'm not one for taking multiple trips, but with the amount you go through, I'll have to go back at least once.

When I walk in, you're right where I left you: feet up on the ottoman, laid back on the couch that is undoubtedly straining to hold your weight. The groceries are heavy, but I just can't help but pause and marvel at what a sight you are. Rolls covering your body from top to bottom, legs forced apart from the sheer girth of your thighs, your blubbery mound of a belly spilling onto your lap from under a t-shirt turned tank top, fattened tits resting on top of your gut, pillowy arms and pudgy hands tilting a fast food milkshake cup back to get every single drop. A living definition of unrestrained hedonism.

You glance over at me, continuing to suck down the entirety of your indulgent treat. I have to wonder if you're putting on this little show just for me, or if you really have become that gluttonous. Probably both, if we're being fair.

"Looks like you didn't wait for me to get back," I say, walking to the kitchen to set your goodies down. "How much did you struggle to get to the front door and back for that delivery, hm?"

I hear a soft groan from you and the echo of an empty cup set on the side table. "I moved myself just fine!" Your heavy panting suggests otherwise, but I let it slide. After all, it could just be that you didn't stop to breathe until you consumed the entire shake. "You get everything?"

"Everything and more. I doubled up on some things, knowing how you've been lately."

"Oh my godddd, I need one of those sandwiches. I'm starving..." There was a time when you would rush into the kitchen to look through everything I brought back, but the last few times- "Could you bring it to me...?" you ask. Right on cue.

"My pleasure, princess," I say with a grin. I pull out one of the footlong subs and unwrap it for you, taking the liberty of slathering on some extra mayo for good measure. The moment I step into the living room, I can see your excitement as you lift your arms and lean forward ever so slightly, a wide grin on your face.

"Thank you thank you!"

I turn to leave, but I watch you take that first bite out of the corner of my eye. And then that little moan of delight that sparks the urgency in your feasting. I can hear you stuffing your face as I head back towards the garage and gather the rest of the groceries. You'll almost assuredly be at least halfway done by the time I get back inside and set everything down.

And you never disappoint. I step back in and see you pushing the last bite of a sandwich half through your lips before licking your fingers. The way you've been gorging yourself is nothing short of breathtaking. It really is no wonder that you've managed to gain hundreds of pounds.

"Your shirt is looking a little small," I call from the kitchen.

"You like how it fits?" You respond with a full mouth. "I just can't pull it past my upper belly anymore..."

"To be fair, not much does fit you anymore. I can't even tell if you're wearing underwear most days," I chuckle.

"Think I'm wearing any right now?"

I can practically hear the sultry smile on your face as you ask. "I think you want to see me struggle with all your rolls to check. But I don't think you've eaten enough to earn it."

"Well, you better bring those cookies and make a proper hog out of me, then."

With an invitation like that, the rest of the groceries can wait. I dig through the bags for all 4 boxes of soft, chewy cookies, bringing them in and setting them beside you.

"A proper hog? Like I haven't done that to you already..." I tease, taking your belly flab in in one hand and squeezing it gently. "Look at all this. All this heavy, moldable fat..."

I lift your gut and drop it on your thighs, a dense slap resonating through your whole body. The sound, the ripples that shake every inch of you, it's mesmerizing. I continue handling your corpulence with increasing roughness, gripping all your rolls and jiggling them, slapping your love handles, and sinking my hands into your hips.

"I've gotten so huge...I can't help that it feels so good..." You moan, laying your head back.

I pop open the first container of cookies and situate myself in front of you. Your belly makes such a nice table to hold the container while I lean into it. "Open up. Let me make you even bigger."

You part your lips, letting me push nearly half the cookie in. I get more aggressive with each bite you take, encouraging you to take more and more, over, and over, and over.

"Come on, piggy. Keep it up. You want to be a good pet, don't you? Eat..."

One by one, the cookies disappear, and I get to hear that beautiful, overfed panting of yours again. You huff and puff, finally able to catch your breath from the relentless feeding. Everything about your current state just encourages me, igniting a need to see you helplessly engorged.

I slowly but firmly caress your poor, sweets-stuffed tummy. "Well now look at you. All stuffed with sweets. You know we're going to need to offset that with something savory and greasy. Settle in."

"Okay..." you say, your chest heaving up and down as you place your hands on the sides of your belly.

I start scrolling through DoorDash, tending to you while I look for your next meal. It's only early afternoon, after all. And gluttonous house pets like you need to keep fed all day long.

[bigolbadblog]

"feeds you way too much homecooked food as a sign of love" gf x "eats way too much of that homecooked food as a sign of appreciation" gf

[dankeyes]

Miss me? 💫