Submission and domination

barrel37 wrote


can't help but wonder why anyone would want to watch a rhino doing zack efron while eating chocolate pudding, maybe if it were a gorilla instead and stawberry jello instead of the pudding i might get it.

sethman:
No, no, no. She eats chocolate pudding while the rhino kills Zac Efron. I know the concept of him never being in another movie is a big turn on for me...

Yindy:
My fantasy is a bit cliche. I'm a female feedee who fantasizes about a very dominant male feeder. He would be loving and attentive but also want to fatten me. Sometimes by hand, sometimes by a tube forcing sweet creams down my throat, not giving me time to swallow before they pressure has forced its way into my stomach. While that happens, he's pleasuring me- either with a vibrator or with oral sex. Through this I connect being stuffed with sexual pleasure and need to have my belly stuffed in order to get off (like palov's dog) And he can't keep his hands and tongue off my growing fat, making sure I know how he loves my growing body. He would need to be very persuasive and make me want to gain to please him.

projectpolemics:
How kinky can we get here?
If this breaks any boundaries, I'm sorry in advance and will take it down, but...

REAL kinky?


A threesome with me, my obese wife, and my little sister. She's brilliant, tough, tall, curvy, and I know for a fact she thinks really fat women are beautiful.
We spilled our guts to each other about our attractions one night in Osaka, over cocktails of absinthe and cobra venom.
So we both know we're a little weird and don't care about the rules.

My wife is so heavy she literally can't do anything in the bedroom but lie there, ripple with flesh, and moan.
Sex would basically consist of me and my sister getting all over my wife, adoring and exploring her bloated body, and satisfying her while sharing in the pleasure.
Now THAT's how you bring a happy family together!


OOOF, sorry if that got a little too nasty, I'll get rid of it if needed, no problem
~___________^

aho:
I like to fantasize that I own a bakery, and hire a handsome chubby guy for the purpose of "taste testing". The rule is that he has to sample all my new creations, and eat the excess food at the end of the day that isn't sold. He loves it. He gains and gains, and gets huge in just a few months. I pick him up for work each day to save him the exertion of walking 4 blocks to work each day, and make lots of milkshakes to wash down all the donuts and cakes I make. He is my own personal fat slave, eating whatever I want him to eat at my request, allowing me to rub his growing belly, outgrowing all of his clothes. If there were any other employees they would be other fat admirers and gainers, working to make the most amazing treats, and of course fatten the taste tester lounging in the back room.

Thousandpoundgoal:
Being chained up on a California king bed and my feeder forcing me to gain till I'm spilling off of it and no matter what I do he won't stop and he finds ways for me to always be full and gaining as fast as possible and he fattens me to death

pdt:
I've got another good one, lol.

I'm kinda workshopping this into a story, but it's a *very* compelling and dangerous fantasy for me.

Maybe I start chatting with a feeder online, as I sometimes do. We talk for a long time and find out that we're a perfect match in kinks, where he or she is a completely obsessed feeder and fattener, who wants to take away all control of my body and turn me into a helpless, blob-like sex slave. But I have so many obligations. I invested too far into having a normal life, and now I have student loans and car payments to think about. How am I going to keep my career if I'm bed-bound?

My feeder presents a solution to me. They live alone, in a house out in the country, no neighbors, like several states and almost 2000 miles away from me. They're some kind of executive, and very well-off. And, they point out, people go missing all the time. Cold cases. My feeder and I work together to plot my own kidnapping disappearance. One day, I leave the office for my lunch break, drive to some sit-down restaurant that none of my coworkers ever go to during the day, and literally climb into my feeder's van as though they offered me candy.

I empty my pockets and surrender my phone and wallet to them, and that's it. I've now trapped myself into this course of action. My phone and wallet get left in trash cans in two different states on the first day of driving, I officially no longer have an identity. My new name is "Fatboy", or maybe "Piggy".

The last leg of our trip, I spend with a bag over my head. I'm led out of the car, through a house, carefully down into a basement, and the bag is finally removed. It's my new home. My feeder refers to it as "the dungeon", but it's more like a modest apartment. I'm told that, for the rest of my life, I am to eat anything and everything that my feeder gives me. I'll work toward weight or size goals of their choice. I'll be periodically evaluated by seeing how long it takes me to climb up the basement stairs and reach a phone. The bed is equipped with wrist and ankle cuffs, and the little kitchen has a wide assortment of gags, funnels, tubes and other tools proudly displayed on a big pegboard.

If I'm good, I'll be allowed to freely move around the basement (while I still can) and choose my own entertainment while my feeder is out of the house. If I don't eat enough, or I try to get away, or otherwise break the rules, they promise me that I'll become helpless, obese, and immobile, but they can either make it very pleasurable and sexy, or they can make it very clinical and unpleasant. They show me a sort of chickenwire cage that they can assemble around my bed at any time to restrict my movement to just rolling around on the mattress if I abuse my privileges. It's my life forever now. I'll be stuffed to my limits every day, and used like an increasingly soft and helpless plaything. I'll become addicted to being force fed and fucked, and my weight will quickly spiral out of control, and that will be the rest of my natural life, all for my feeder's twisted pleasure, and nobody will ever know where I disappeared to.

pdt:
I'll add another one, because it's so fun to contribute to the thread.

I'm really into the idea, as a feedee, of getting in way over my head. Like, maybe I get married to a feeder under the pretense that she wants an immobile husband to keep to herself, but I don't realize what the details of her plan to get me there are.

Soon, I wake up and find myself tightly cuffed to our bed, where I'm informed by my lovely new wife that I have a tight schedule to catch up to. She begins pushing donuts into my mouth, while she explains,
"On paper, you're a stay at home husband, a homemaker. But here's how this is going to go, pig. You're going to spend some time on this bed, eating. It's going to be a lot of time. I'll take care of your hygiene and prevent you from getting bedsores. Think of it as a preview for when you're actually immobile. You only weigh 350 lbs right now, so keep eating."
She helps me drink from a travel mug of coffee that's clearly mixed with a heavy dose of bourbon.
"We'll keep you nice and loose, like this, it will help you eat more. I think you'll get your walking around and using the bathroom privileges back... oh... let's say when we've gotten your stomach capacity up to a gallon. And don't worry about the housekeeper stumbling in here, I've installed locks and soundproofed the room."

By the time I reach her goal, I've been drunk and in bed for like 2 months, just being stuffed constantly. My weight has surged something like 100 lbs, pure fat, and more than a few brain cells have gone dark from the alcohol. I struggle to waddle away from the bed- it's hard, and it hurts, my muscles have been atrophying this whole time. I just want to use the toilet and feel like I have some dignity again. Through the door, my feeder cloyingly asks if I'd like to get back into bed and have a nice meal. My head and heart both pounding, my legs and back on fire from the titanic effort of walking down the hall. I find myself suddenly aroused, as she's successfully merged my psychological concepts of sex and food through steady conditioning. With a dull sensation of dread, I realize that my one and only answer is, "Yes, please."

fatgirlfetish:
I would like to get my girlfiend a trough and build a pig pen for her outside. I'd like to keep her naked in the pen for a week or so over summer when the weather is fine. I'd mix up lots of high calorie swill to feed her & she'd only be allowed to grunt like a pig and not talk whilst she's in her pen. Occasionally, I'd enter the pen to take her from behind for sex whilst she is leaning over her trough to eat her swill.