I’m a 25-year-old girl dating a 26-year-old guy. My boyfriend
identifies as sexually submissive. He likes to be tied up, put in
women’s underwear, and locked in a chastity device, and he has a strong
urge to please. I hate the term, but I suppose you could call me a
“feeder.” I am turned on by the idea of someone eating a lot of food,
usually junk food, and putting on weight.
It’s probably related, but I’m also a bit of a fitness nut
— I’m the type of person who gets her cat health food.
Consequently, I feel somewhat guilty about indulging my fetish, but I
figure every now and then shouldn’t hurt. Thing is, since I’ve been
honest with my boyfriend and he knows how much this stuff turns me on,
often when we go out he’ll eat too much to please me. The short of it
is, he’s put on some weight, and while the libido part of me finds it
hot, the logical part of me wants him to be healthy and wants to stop
this pattern before he gets, like, actually fat.
Thing is, it’s hard enough to convince your partner to work out
when it will lead to your being more attracted to him. It’s nearly
impossible to convince your partner to work out when it may lead to
your being less attracted to him. So what do I do? I could say he knows
the risks, and since I’m not forcing him to do anything, I could just
run with it. But I would still feel bad knowing that he was essentially
worse off — less healthy — for having dated me. I just
don’t want to give him a complex.
Fat Admirer Troubled
Your boyfriend is a submissive crossdresser who’s into bondage and
chastity, FAT, so he came to you with a complex — two or three at
least. Not that there’s anything wrong with that: His complexes, and
the fetishes and kinks they’ve sprouted, give him a great deal of
pleasure, FAT, and it sounds like you’re enjoying ’em, too. We should
all be so lucky to have such complexes.
So get off the rack already — that’s where the boyfriend
belongs — and negotiate an explicit “power exchange agreement”
where his diet and weight are concerned. Explain to him that having a
dominant feeder girlfriend doesn’t give him license to eat whatever he
wants, whenever he wants, and put on however much weight he wants.
You’re the dominant, FAT, you’re in charge, so you get to determine
what he eats, when he eats, how much he eats, and ultimately how much
weight he gains.
But luckily for him, FAT, you’re a conscientious, ethical dominant
feeder. You’re not one of those evil feeders who wants to do serious
and lasting harm to some poor gainer; you don’t want to feed your
boyfriend into weight-related disability and/or an early grave. You’re
interested in feeder play, not murder-by-cream-cheese-frosting.
So order the boyfriend to eat junk food, sit on his ass, and gain
weight for a few months, FAT, and then order him to eat healthier food,
get off his ass, and lose the weight. Don’t let his weight go more than
thirty pounds over his ideal weight and you won’t be doing him any real
or lasting harm.
And FAT? Even if indulging your fetish shaves a year or two off his
life, well, people throw away decades of their lives for lesser
pleasures. People smoke, ride motorcycles without helmets, and stick
their rear ends in the air in skank-ass sex clubs. Our bodies are our
own, FAT; they’re ours to use, abuse, and, since we’re all going to die
one day, they’re ours to use up. Sane adults strike a balance between
taking care of our bodies — eating right, drinking in moderation,
getting exercise — while still allowing for pleasures that
require us to eat poorly, drink in excess, and lie motionless for days
at a time while we recover. The better care you take of yourself
— the more time you spend eating right, drinking in moderation,
and exercising — the longer you’ll live, of course, and the more
pleasures you’ll get to enjoy before you inevitably croak.
It’s ultimately up to your boyfriend to determine whether the
pleasures of submitting to you — including the pleasure of
indulging your fetish — are worth the risks to his health. Are
those twenty or thirty extra pounds something he’s willing to carry
around for you half the year? Is having a kick-ass sex life with you in
his twenties — and possibly in his thirties, forties, and fifties
— worth shaving a year or two off his life in his seventies or
eighties? If he decides that the answer is yes, FAT, be a gracious
bondage/chastity/feeding top, take his yes for an answer, and stick a
doughnut in his mouth.
A question in the spirit of the season: Can zombie sex ever be
consensual? Because I think if confronted with a zombified Zac Efron, I
might go for it if he were properly restrained. Can you teach a zombie
a safe word? Does it count if it’s “braaaains”? It’s not necrophilia
with the WALKING dead, is it? What would you say is the sexual morality
of this situation?
Hope In Zombie Zac If Ethical
If you’d seen Zombieland, HIZZIE, you’d know that a hot person, once
transformed into a zombie, isn’t hot anymore. A pretty girl is bitten
by a zombie, falls asleep in the arms of Zombieland’s nebbishy hero,
and awakes as a thoroughly hideous flesh-eating monster. Even a
zombified Zac Efron — I’m going to resist making the obvious joke
here — would be too repulsive to fuck. Think of the gore, the
viscera; think of the Axe body spray.
As for the morality of the situation, fucking zombies — the
walking dead — is necrophilia, technically speaking, but
practically speaking, it comes closer to bestiality. A human being who
has been zombified is nothing but an animal, hungry for brains,
incapable of thought much less consent. We can kill animals for their
flesh, but we mustn’t fuck them, HIZZIE; and we can kill zombies for
wanting our flesh, but likewise we mustn’t fuck them.
Met a super-hot boy — straight! — at a bar. Nice,
familiar with my work (I’m an artist), thinks I’m all great. Talked,
kissed. Exchanged numbers. Made plans. For a date. Dinner. He tells me
he’s married but in an “open relationship.” What do I do? Do open
relationships really exist?
She Lusts Until Truth
Yes, SLUT, open relationships exist. But the only person who can
confirm that this boy — straight! — is actually in one,
SLUT, is his wife. Ask her. Before you kiss that boy some more. Or go.
On. That. Date.
I came up with an amazing word years ago, and I have been trying
like hell to get it into the dictionary: procrasturbation. It means “to
waste time by pleasuring yourself.” I wrote Merriam-Webster back in
2004 — here is the response I got: “Your coinage is clever, but
I’m afraid that cleverness is not the criterion on which a word is
entered into our dictionaries … For ‘procrasturbate’ to be entered,
it will need to appear in a number of well-read print sources for a
good number of years. When we’ve collected enough citations for the
word, we will enter it into our dictionary.”
I was just wondering if you could help me out with this one, Dan,
by using “procrasturbate” in your column.
Organically Enters Dictionary
“Procrasturbate” is genius, OED, but appearing in my column isn’t
going to get it into the dictionary. “Santorum” has appeared in this
space and other well-read print sources for years now, and it hasn’t
seeped into Merriam-Webster’s yet. I call shenanigans.
