#extreme feedism

[prize-pig-collection]

When it comes down to it, all I really want is a morbidly obese housepet.

Her only interest, eating. Her only thought, what to eat next. Because all she does while awake is eat or digest, she measures the passage of time only by how much of her bed she takes up. Her only goal in life is to see just how much lard her body can store before it finally becomes too much. Hopefully she makes it well over 1,000 lbs, but if she doesn’t, it won’t be for lack of trying.

And when she’s had enough… I’ll take whatever I’ve learned and apply it to making my next pet piggy even bigger 🥰

#inspiration for piggies #extreme feedism #extreme weight gain #extreme obesity #immobility #death feedism

[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.

#extreme weight gain #dom feeder #female ffa #feedee belly #death feederism #death feedist #death feedism #feedism community #extreme feedism #fat piggy #weight gain #immobile fat #dark feedism #immobile #fat #fatty #immobility #glorify obesity #fat getting fatter #death feedee #feedee encouragement #weight gain kink #ffa

[psyphigirl]

"May I See Her?"

TW: Immobility, Health Play, Hospital Setting, "Asphyxiation"

A person is admitted to the most advanced bariatric health center, where they must be subjected to constant and intense mechanical medical care

(I'm not sure the tw list is entirely exhaustive as I don't know how to define some of the things I wrote about. Please feel free to give any suggestions you feel I need to include!)

The doctor looked at me as though I had two heads, he just didn't understand the question.

"I- I don't know. There ... there isn't a lot left to see. You didn't really ... leave us with a lot ..."

I had weird mixed feelings about how he said that. Shame, guilt, fear ... pride, wonder, lust. What could they possibly have done to her?

"You can come in about 11.00 on Thursday morning, if you really do want to see her", he said flatly

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be in then."

I hang up and sit back on my bed. I should really be getting to bed soon but I can't bear the thought of going to sleep just yet, so I go in to her old room. Just to remember her.

The room looks so much smaller without her in it. For the first time in years I can actually stand anywhere I want without fear of standing on her flesh or on a cable or tube she needs to function. The room's been stripped almost bare from the kit I used to tend to her. The oxygen pump is gone, the feeding tube has been retired, even the fridges have been wheeled away. I can see an almost perfect outline of her rear on the wall behind her, painted with sweat into the wallpaper. Her mattress is still here, it's been crushed to about a quarter of it's normal height after years of propping up a mass measured in metric tons.

I'm almost glad to see her in a proper care center: All this tech is ancient. Held together with tape and staples. It's a wonder it failed as infrequently as it did...

That's enough remembering for tonight

...

Beep beep beep

That's the alarm. Seven o'clock. Get up, get dressed, go to the kitchen. What's in the fridge? Not a lot. A dozen eggs and half a loaf of toast should be fine. I can fit two slices per slot in the four slot toaster and have them done in two minutes. I can fit three eggs in a pan per two pans. It takes five minutes to cook them and have them done in ten minutes. Hopefully I can have this done before she wakes up-

Oh.

I turn the stovetop off and unplug the toaster. For the first time in years I don't have to center my daily schedule around caring for my helpless other half. It takes about an hour to get to the hospital. So I have three hours to kill ... somehow

...

"Oh, it's you. It- She's right this way"

The doctor lead me down a corridor, with a sign above it reading "ICU". Is it that bad? It must be. I was lead all the way down to the end of the corridor. The very last door in the ICU of the most advanced bariatric care center the fattest country in the world has to offer. I really did a number on her.

"Now. I should warn you. She's very ... fragile. You just need to be careful. Do you understand?"

"Yes, doctor, I think so"

His mouth jerks to the side and he turns away from me. I could have sworn I heard him say "I'm sure"

He opens the door and I see her.

She's nothing more than a mound of flesh, decorated by a spidersweb of wires and tubes, moniters and dials.

"Jeez, doc. Is this all really necessary?"

He looks at me with a subtle and frightening rage, "Yes. If even one of these machines failed, or one of these cables disconnected," he looks almost disappointed, "She wouldn't last long."

I don't respond. All I can do is gawk at her.

"This one here, for example", He gestures to a machine containing a series of combustion pistons, "That's her heart. There's no way her actual heart can pump blood around the rest of her body without assistance."

He points to another one, a pair of pumps under a turbine, "Those are her lungs."

And another, "That's her liver. There's no machine in here that isn't essential to her continued survival. Her body just doesn't work anymore. Technically ... she ... isn't that person in the center of this room anymore. She's ..." He struggles to find his words for a minute, "She's pretty much the room itself"

I take a minute to comprehend what that means. I'm inside her. Staring at her bare soul

"Doctor," I inquire, "Could I be left alone with her for a little while?"

He looks right through me and approaches, "Her diet is automated. Don't think you can do any more damage"

He leaves heavyfooted and disgusted at what I did to her. I almost don't blame him

"Hi dear. Can you hear? It's me."

I wait. I get no response.

"I know you may resent, or even fear me. But you're safe now, love. I can do you no harm. Now that I say it out loud I'm even sure that's entirely true. If that's your lungs, then that tube must be intake. So which tube feeds you the oxygen? This one here? Next to my boot?"

Her heart beats visibly faster.

"That's a yes. What happens if I ..."

I lightly squish the thick clear plastic tube with my heel. The rhythm of the machinery is changed, tarnished even.

Her heart beats visibly faster again.

"I like that response. See it could be fear, couldn't it ..."

I press a little deeper

"Your mouth feels dry. Your temples feel tight. Your lungs, your real ones I mean, are burning. It hurts and you're afraid."

I press a little deeper

"Or maybe. Just maybe ..."

I connect my heel all the way to the floor

"It's lust?"

#extreme feedism #extreme feedee #extreme feeder #healthplay #immobility #death feedee #death feeder #robot girl #berrywrites

[gourmand527]

a little dream of me...

I had the most vivid dream last night. I was lounging in my comfy recliner without a care in the world. A beautiful attendant was catering to my every need, blending milkshakes and burgers into the perfect slurry for my nonstop indulgence. This gorgeous woman with long dark hair and a pinafore dress over spanx leggings that accentuated her curves was catering to my every need.

She gracefully blended up burgers, fries, shakes - all my favorite foods - into the perfect slurry. Then she gently funneled it into the tube that was straped to my face feeding me always and directly as I relaxed in total bliss. It felt so indulgent to be pampered and served like a king.

In the dream, it felt amazing at first to be pampered and served so excessively. But slowly, as she continued the constant feedings, I grew heavier and heavier. I could actually see and feel my body expanding as I slowly overflowed the recliner. I just kept getting bigger and bigger from all the constant force-feedings. It was such a vivid sensation as I swelled up uncontrollably.

That's when I finally woke up, no doubt from the shock of seeing myself transform as I gave in to total indulgence. It started out as a wish-fulfillment fantasy but woke up too quickly...

I think this dream could represent anxieties about my health and weight. My desire to relax, gain weight and be cared for warped into a scenario where I lost all control. What do you think this dream could reveal about my subconscious fears and wishes? It was such a vivid rollercoaster, I feel compelled to document it. Should I post more for others to analyze?

#femalefeeder #female fat admirer #male feedism #morbid feedism #extreme feedism #male feedee #wg fiction #fat art #bhm wg #male wg #ffa bhm #bhm ffa #ffa #bhm weight gain #female feeder #wg text #dream #dreamstate

[robbiethehog]

Soft extreme feedism Nr. 3:

Awwwww, my baby is so cute struggling to breathe under all that lard 😍 Time to make you even cuter 🥰

Oh no, where could I have put your insulin you desperately need right now? 🥺 I'm sorry piggy, might take a little while to find it 😅😘

Aw baby, your heart hurts, you say? 🥺 Nothing some delicious, greasy food can't fix, I say! 😋🥰😘

#extreme feederism #extreme feedism #death feederism #death feedism

[bunny-13-cunt]

Every time I see myself in the mirror I get so turned on it's not even funny

#getting bigger #wg text #xwg #encourage obesity #dark feedism #obese is better #xwg text #extreme feedism

[prize-pig-collection]

I don’t think you understand just how big I want you to get. So let me spell it out for you.

Simply being immobile won’t be enough. I want your arms and legs to be swallowed up by enormous rolls of flab. I want your chest and chins and shoulders so fat that your head gets swallowed up too. Sounds ridiculous, you might think…but when you’re thousands of pounds overweight, those pounds will have to go somewhere.

You’ll be a pile of blubber with two tubes poking into the top: one for oxygen, one for food. Deep inside that lard pile that will still technically be a human body, even if it’s not recognizable as one, will be what’s left of you.

You won’t be able to see or hear anything, and you’ll have no way of communicating with the outside world. Even with all the drugs and machinery used to keep you alive, they’ll only be able to do so much. Each breath, each heartbeat, will be a struggle.

But as long as you’re still aware of your existence, you’ll be comforted by the knowledge that you’re still growing. Don’t worry — I’d never let you stop.

It’s a simple life; but as long as you’re always getting fatter, what else do you need?

#inspiration for piggies #extreme obesity #extreme feedism #immobility #death feedism

[adiproseprose]

Pig Status: Released

You swell with each suckle of the machine, thick shake violently dumping itself down your throat and into your arteries. Into your belly. It stretches down to your shins, now, an endless void of creamy white fat, keeping you pinned to your hospital bed. You don’t know how long you’ve been here. There is no day, no night. No one but you. Pump. Swallow. Pump. Swallow. 

You’re propped up on the bed in a way that gives you a view of your endlessly growing expanse. Diabetic, fat padded feet that grow worryingly swollen and red. Tits two garbage bags of meat stretching down to the center of your stomach. The real centerpiece is all your but hips. A spread of lard, dripping off the sides of your hospital bed, inching towards the floor with each calorie. Tubby hands to fat to close, skin stretched so tight you can hardly feel them. 

A sharp tingle runs down your shoulder, and your increasingly degrading muscles are overcome by weakness. Your swallowing, normally rhythmic and robotic, becomes more panicked. You muffle cries as your heart beats become harder and more painful, quick bursts of sharpness radiate throughout your whole upper body. The fat laden substance being forced into you, clogging each organ and ridding you of basic human function. Wheezing through your nose oxygen barely grazing your blubber, choked lungs as you wiggle your upper arms, cry desperate, muffled cries, anything to make it stop. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was for the tube shoved so far down your throat that refusing to swallow was impossible, wiring and slowly depositing itself from your mouth. You gasp, thick shake still coating your mouth, taking in air for the first time in ages. You pant underneath your own mass, and let out a massive BURP that echoes throughout the room. You want to look around, but your fat neck and blobby double chin prevent you from doing so. The pain in your chest is lessened from your fatty intake suddenly being striped, and the heart attack slowly goes into remission, the endless throbbing pain in your weakened muscles remaining the same. 

Slowly, you swing one massive leg over the side of the bed. Just lifting it takes up a huge portion of your energy, actually bending your strained joints a whole other story. A thick ring of sweat has surrounded your collar by the time you’ve actually managed to scoot your massive ass to the edge of the bed, heaving and panting. 

Now comes the real challenge: putting stress on your legs, which God knows you haven’t done in literal decades. Everytime you put stress on your knees, tears buildup in your eyes from the sheer amount of pain. You gasp and struggle, the very edge of your cellulite packaged, ample stomach hitting the floor as gravity does everything in her power to keep you glued to that bed. But you’re up. Each step invokes a sharp throb in your chest, arms too weak to even grab the flab hidden organ. 

Now let’s see you waddle to the door, piggy.

#fat piggy #healthplay #death feedee #death feedism fiction #weight gain fiction #weight gain writing #extreme weight gain #female feedee #weight gain #extreme feedism #queer feedist #queer feedism #death feedist #death feederism #dark feedism #dark feederism

[psyphigirl]

I'm not interested in myself gaining weight but if I woke up 2,000lbs tomorrow I wouldn't complain

#extreme feedee #extreme feeder #extreme feedism #immobility #death feedee #death feeder #death feedism #healthplay

[cheeseburgersinparadise]

Tie me up after ruining my body with hundreds of pounds of fat and leave me there hooked up to a feeding machine. You come home to find you have forgotten to hook the waste disposal system to me, and now I am literally sitting in my own filth like an actual pig. You degrade me and call me a fat swine, even though you did this to me. You reverse psychology my fat ass into thinking that I like it because I’m such a swine and feed me more slop

well well well. if it isn’t the consequences of my actions.

this certainly is quite nasty and typically not my particular lane, but if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.

How much did I really *make* you do anything? I’m sure I didn’t force you to keep eating, quit the gym, let your muscular body turn to soft excess. I didn’t shove thousands of calories down your greedy throat, I just put the food in front of you.

All you really needed was a little push and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. You had plenty of warning signs - your back was aching, your knees were sore, getting up off your fat ass took more wind out of you than any workout ever did.

You could have stopped then, but you didn’t.

Also, please - reverse psychology? Baby, you wouldn’t be here if you already didn’t love how good it feels to be such a fat, overfed, disgusting pig. Don’t insult me.

And now look at you. An unrecognizable, filthy blob of a human. Too helpless to do anything for yourself, too fat, too out of shape to even get up, let alone live a normal life. You’re stuck here, destined to be the farm animal I used to playfully tease you about. Pathetic.

#woof this is meaner than I’m used to did I do a good job #chzburger answers #slob #slobbiness #what do I tw this as #extreme feedism

[queerfatlife]

Gibt es hier lesbische/ queere Feederinnen, die Interesse an Kontakt hätten?🙈 Schreibt mir gerne☺️

Any lesbian/ queer female feeders, please dm me if you want to?🙈☺️

#Looking for a feeder #Extreme feedism #lesbian feedee #mine