new dA is kinda trash

hi, i'm dormammu12, and i'm a refugee from deviantart. i write porn. LINKS HERE

[12dormammu]

Hi!

My name is Dormammu12, and I am on DeviantArt, Patreon and Ko-Fi. I run @guillemardsyndromeawarenessblog, @bellychats and @personnelbloat1. If you like my content, please don’t hesitate to support me on the above websites. You may access them via the links available at https://linktr.ee/dormammu12.

For the record I am in my early twenties and no minors should be reading this content.

Thank you!

[stupid-fluffy]

Next stop for this piggy, immobility ❤️❤️❤️

[spoopybelly]

in case you all forgot. my belly game is still super strong. ;)

[fatbellyboy3]

How could we forget lol

[imagineyourepregnant]

Miracle Drug I

Hi! The piece that I'm submitting is already up on my dA account (also Dormammu12), along with its four subsequent parts. Hope you enjoy.

There was a knock on the door.

“Occupied,” Max gasped, breasts heaving as she bucked desperately against her greedy fingers, and the woman on the other side made a small, affronted noise, heels clicking unsteadily away. Max waited until she was gone before resuming, fingers plunging as deep as they could go, head tossed back, mouth open and gaping -

There it is.

As the last remaining shreds of ecstasy faded away, Max sagged back against the toilet bowl, the buttons of her blouse straining as she panted. The sensation of the fabric tightening and loosening against the swollen mound of her stomach made her breath hitch and her ragged nethers ache once more, but Max grasped onto what remained of her self-restraint and wrestled her arousal back into its box. Fifteen minutes, she mouthed to herself. Fifteen minutes, and I’ll be home, and I can finger-fuck myself into Monday morning.

Carefully, she leaned over and switched off the miniature recorder hanging from the hook on the back of the cubicle door.

The door creaked open as she made her ungainly way out, the cold white lights blazing unflatteringly down over her face. Max stuck her tongue out at her reflection and splashed her face with water a few times before deciding to return to her desk. However, she'd only just settled back down when one of her more repulsive colleagues popped up by the exit, leering at her. “Quite the walk of shame, eh?”

Max snarled. “Fuck off, Julian.”

Julian chuckled. It was not a nice chuckle. “You’re masturbating on the job, Max. The company doesn’t care what you do in your spare time, but if it’s on company time - oh!” He pulled an exaggeratedly shocked expression. “That’s a very different thing.”

Max rolled her eyes. “You tell me this every Friday,” she sniped. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Today’s different,” Julian cackled. “While you were climaxing in your cubicle, Oliver announced that he was retiring.”

Max, who had begun shuffling her paperwork about her desk in a bid to avoid meeting her co-worker’s eyes, hesitated, and a fresh spurt of devilish glee entered Julian’s voice. He began to gloat, his voice taking on a saccharine, singsong tone, and danced into full view. “You can’t go into his office and shake your tits at him anymore, darling,” he crooned, cackling as Max switched off her desktop, slipped what little paperwork she had into her little sling bag, and rose to her feet. “That dirty old man isn’t going to be around to protect you any longer. Management will force you to go on maternity leave, and then -”

He choked on his words as Max's belly collided with his stomach. Eyes bulging, Julian's mouth opened and closed as she drove him backwards into the wall, using her momentum to carry both of them forwards. “Got to go,” she chirped, straightening her sleeves. “See you on Monday, Julian!”

She was gone before he could say another word, waddling down the corridors as fast as she could. He didn’t throw a parting snipe in her direction, though, which was nice, because it gave her time to think.

Oliver had been her last line of defense against Management. She’d been pregnant for two years, and they were aching to have her go on maternity leave, just so they could get out of paying her, but Oliver just kept begging off. The two of them had an arrangement, after all. Oliver had a thing for pregnant women, and Max - well, Max was just horny enough to be willing to countenance fucking a guy who was just about twice her age. It was possible that Oliver’s replacement would be just as horny as he was, but… well… how likely was it?

“Not bloody likely,” Max muttered. The student beside her, who had been staring at his phone, glanced at her and none-too-discreetly inched away.

Max knew some of the passengers on her daily commute by sight, though not a lot. There were about five or six of them, ranging from students to elderly folk wandering about town, and every last one of them had started to give her the hairy eyeball as she’d kept growing… and growing… and growing. None of them had ever bothered (or dared) to approach her over it, though.

That reminds me, Max thought, stumbling out of the train and absently battering a blameless commuter out of her way using the sheer weight of her gut, I need to refill my prescription.

She picked up a steaming pack of Chinese food on her way back, and as the lift at her apartment block came to a stop at the fifth floor, she waddled out and knocked on Travis’ door.

Travis answered immediately, as was his wont. He knew her schedule, and she knew his. “Oh, hey -” he began.

Max cut him off, driving him back into his apartment with her sheer weight, and used her ballet flats (she was too big for heels at this point) to kick the door shut behind her. “I need more Fluoretine.”

“All in due course,” Travis slurred, eyes fixed on the all-too-visible outline of her industrial-strength bra. “I… um… I need my dinner.”

Max removed her coat and started to unbutton her blouse.

“No,” Travis said, “my other dinner.”

Max stopped unbuttoning her blouse and started to fiddle with the waistband of her pencil skirt.

“My Chinese food.”

“Oh.”

Slightly disappointed, Max handed Travis his dinner and settled into the ratty recliner. It was her usual spot, and was a much better place to perch than the disgusting, soiled sofa at Travis’ left hand, which was where most of his clients usually sat. As her meaty rump (it had started to really thicken in the last six months) wriggled against the seating, she winced. Was that a stray spring?

“So,” Travis volunteered, “did you have a good day?”

“Shut up and eat.”

Travis shut up and ate. Max wriggled a little more, mildly pleased at how she filled up the recliner, and pulled out her phone.

Her bank account was going to suffer if she got fired, which seemed likely. She barely got any work done these days, between fucking Oliver in his office and masturbating in the toilet, and most of her colleagues knew it. She wouldn’t find any friends from their end, and with Oliver gone, her head would be first on the chopping block. Being out of a job would free her up to devote herself to camming full-time, but… well… it would also cut her off from the stable salary that came with being a middling functionary in one of the largest insurance companies in town.

All was not yet lost, though. If she kept her spending stable, she might be able to sustain herself for at least a few more years. She’d have to tighten her belt (metaphorically), but it was possible. On the other hand -

“Max?”

Max looked up. Travis crooked a finger at her, eyes sweeping up and down as she heaved herself to her swollen feet, and cleared his throat. “I might be running low on the Fluoretine.”

“What?”

To his credit, Travis didn’t flinch. “My contact got fired. He won’t be able to get it to me anymore. I’ll try, of course, but you’re just about the only person I know who uses it. I might have to increase the price.”

Max started to undress. As her skirt fell to the ratty carpet in a heap, she stood before Travis, naked but for her lingerie, and raised an eyebrow.

Travis sighed. “This is about the bottom line, Max. The lowest I can go is… well… it’s almost fifty percent higher than what you’re already paying. No amount of sexual favours will lower my price.”

“What if I sit on you?”

Travis squinted. “Like, sexually?”

“No. I sit on your face, and you suffocate.”

“You’d need to access my list of contacts.” Travis kneaded the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t know why you like being pregnant so much, and I’m not complaining, but - have you possibly considered that you might not want to be pregnant forever?”

“Just give me the Fluoretine.”

Travis quoted a price.

Max counted out the bills and shoved them into his hand.

Once the small white pills were safely ensconced in her cleavage, Max pulled on her skirt and buttoned up her blouse. As she stepped out into the corridor, Travis called, “Does this mean we’re not having sex tonight?”

Max gave him the finger and slammed the door shut behind her.

Instead of taking the lift, she opted to take the stairs. It was hell on her thighs and calves, but the pain cleared her mind and made it easier to think. As one white-knuckled hand gripped onto the banister for dear life, the other found its way to the vast sphere of her gut, poking and prodding at its stretched-taut surface.

This was her first pregnancy.

Max had always wanted to be pregnant. Crucially, though, she had never wanted to be a mother, and she knew herself well enough to be certain that, if she did end up having children, she wouldn’t have the heart to put them up for adoption. The ideal had always been to be pregnant forever, and as she’d grown older, from a coltish sixteen-year-old to an attractive twenty-two-year-old, that dream had seemed to drift further and further away with each passing day.

Then Florent Laboratories had made The Announcement.

Fluoretine was a drug that would allow individuals carrying babies with birth defects to push their labour back as the necessary tweaks were made to their children’s genomes. Down’s Syndrome would be eliminated completely, as would most other well-known congenital conditions. The country had responded favourably.

So had Max.

A year after The Announcement had been made, Max got her hands on her first dosage of Fluoretine. Three months later, she was pregnant. Twenty-seven months later, she was still pregnant, and -

And there was someone standing outside her apartment.

Max paused at the stairwell and caught her breath, removing her hand from her belly and groping for the wall. Her other hand continued to clutch onto the banister. “Er,” she squeaked, tentatively, “who - who’s there?”

“Maxine Auerbach?”

It was a woman.

“That’s me,” Max replied, warily, not moving another step. “And you are…”

The person standing outside her apartment turned, and Max inhaled sharply. She could see now that the woman waiting for her was hugely pregnant, even larger than her, and dressed so impeccably that she made Max feel shabby in comparison. A fresh, fruity scent wafted to her nose, and as Max stood, mouth hanging open, by the stairwell, the woman walked (well, waddled) right up to her, the apex of her belly stopping just short of Max’s own navel, and extended a hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Colette Florent. “Can we talk?”

-----

“Can I get you something?” Max asked, once they’d ducked into her apartment. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Do you have raspberry leaf tea?” Colette Florent called.

“I’ll get us two cups,” Max replied, turning around and leaning against the sink, heart pounding in her chest. Her whole body was warm - well, warmer than usual - and there was a distinct sense of unreality pervading her whole being. Gently, she pinched her cheek and winced at the pain. Guess I’m not dreaming, then.

Colette Florent had been the first woman on Earth to experience the effects of Fluoretine. Her brother, David, who had cured AIDS and invented various novel methods of commercial genetic engineering, had developed Fluoretine as a means to prevent her from giving birth to a baby with progeria until the disorder could be cured. (At least, that was how the official story had gone.)

She was also about forty months pregnant.

“Oh, thank you,” Colette Florent enthused, arranging herself on the other end of Max’s small couch. Her weight warped the padding around her ample rear, but she didn't seem to be overly concerned by it, and she'd completely ignored the mess on the coffee table. Her voice was soft, musical and sweet. “I know it stimulates contractions, but raspberry leaf tea is just so tasty. Don’t you agree?”

Max blinked. “Uh. Yes?”

Colette Florent leaned over and lowered her voice, and Max - her curiosity piqued - leaned in as well. “I mean, that’s what I tell everyone else,” she whispered. “Actually, I drink raspberry leaf tea because it stimulates contractions. David says it helps to test the strength of his concoction, and as for me…”

Max waited, the hair on the back of her neck prickling at the sensation of the other woman’s warm breath on her ear.

“… well, I drink it because the contractions make me cum.”

Colette Florent pulled back, her enigmatic smile having given way to a small, devilish grin, and Max grinned back.

“I guess that makes two of us,” she ventured uncertainly.

Colette Florent nodded. “There’s not a lot of us,” she murmured, “but I wouldn’t say that we’re a vanishingly small minority, either.” She paused, rubbing the upper hemisphere of her belly thoughtfully, and brushed idly at a lock of hair that had slipped free of her complicated-looking braid. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms Auerbach. I’m looking to bring together women… women like us. Women who don’t use Fluoretine out of necessity, but for… well…”

“For pleasure?”

“Well, pleasure, money, et cetera, et cetera.”

Max flushed.

“Don’t be a prude, Ms Auerbach. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s the world’s oldest profession.” Colette Florent’s smile turned wicked; before Max could respond, she bulldozed on. “I’m trying to bring together a… hm… a community. I’m going to try and see if we - women like us - can bulldoze our way into the mainstream market. Normalize attitudes, so to speak.” She paused for breath. “What do you think?”

Max thought.

“Will I get paid for this?”

Colette Florent gave her a number. That, more than anything else, helped to clarify her thought process.

“I’m in.”

“Oh, very good.” Colette Florent grinned again, broadly and brilliantly, and raised her cup of raspberry leaf tea. “To Fluoretine!”

“To Fluoretine!”

They clinked cups and drank down the tea in one shot.

-----

“My belly is getting so big,” Maxine Auerbach whispered.

The entirety of David’s ultrawide monitor was filled with the sight of her, all-but-poured into a pinstriped button-up vest. It was so tight that it was visibly straining at the seams, and as her fingers travelled sensuously over the pale white diamonds of flesh that showed through the fabric, his cock stiffened in his hand. “I’ve put on this vest just to see how big I’ve grown… and I’ve grown, haven’t I?” She bit her lip, eyelids fluttering, and he leaned forward, mesmerized. “It’s like a big beachball -”

There was a gentle chime.

David closed his eyes, groaning under his breath, and pulled his pants back on. Adjusting his posture, he twisted his neck, the bones in his spine grinding, and discarded Auerbach’s delectable little video to be savoured at a later date. With a flick of his finger, he answered the call and grinned as Colette appeared onscreen. “How did it go?”

“Perfectly.”

A look of half-arousal, half-pain crossed his twin’s face, then, and David shook his head. “I’m assuming you drank too much raspberry leaf tea again, eh?”

“She had a great deal of it on hand,” Colette retorted innocently. “How could I have refused?”

David shook his head again, sighing, and extended his hands in surrender. “I miss you.”

Colette made an expression that mirrored his - half-desperate, half-aroused - and adjusted her phone. “I miss you too.” A pause. “Wanna… you know?”

David raised an eyebrow. “I’d much rather have you here in the flesh,” he growled.

“It’s barely been twenty-four hours, you clingy baby.”

“Who’s the baby here?”

Instead of replying, Colette made a small noise of annoyance and moved her phone back, positioning it as carefully as she could. David, for his part, adjusted his screen until he could see all of her, high-cheeked and fine-boned, large-breasted and wide-hipped, swollen and overripe.

“How do you like the hotel?”

“It’s got a wonderful pool. I might try it out later.” Colette had tossed aside her coat and was pulling off her tweed sweater. As David watched, cock firmly back in hand, she wriggled out of her leggings - taking her pantyhose with them - and cast both items of clothing onto the bed with a grunt.

“Have fun.”

“I will.” Colette looked up, then, briefly taking her attention off of her snug, lacy, custom-made bra. “You won’t be upset if I fuck anyone, will you?”

“You keep asking me this question,” David laughed. “How could I be upset? You’ve done so much for me.”

Colette put a hand to her heart. “Oh,” she sighed. “Your charity astounds.”

Then she kicked off her panties and removed her bra.

David leaned forward.

[tummywrites]

you were eager to see your friend, it had been almost year since the two of you had met in person and you couldn't wait to finally see them again. quarantine had kept you apart in different states, and you decided that the best place for you to meet up was at a restaurant in town near their apartment. it was an all you can eat type place, one that you knew your friend would love.

you sat at the booth and waited, idly drinking from the soda your waiter had already brought. you looked up to your name being called, and almost choked on your drink. it was your friend, alright, but they had definitely....changed. you shook your head in disbelief, opening your eyes to confirm that yes, that was your old friend standing in front of you. in front of you, in shorts that were downright obscene, cutting into a heavy belly that was even more pronounced due to an incredibly tight belt, with a shirt that definitely wasn't meant to be a crop top, but couldn't help but be one with the way it barely fell to their last rib, leaving a large amount of smooth flesh exposed. they grinned at you, their rosy cheeks bulging in the most adorable way, and you just sat in silence as they pulled themself into the booth, grunting at the tight fit the table caused; you could only watch as they had to push the table towards you to make room, and a small layer of fat still rested on the counter.

you knew they had always been a little bit on the heavier side, always softer in places you weren't, but this? you had a fleeting thought of what their belly would feel like beneath your fingers, their soft, plush body malleable under your hands. it went away when they asked if you were ready to get some food, and you nodded, standing up with them. you licked your lips as you watch them pull themself back out of the booth, sucking in their belly to scoot out of the seat, only to exhale and let it all fill out again. you could see their belly jiggle and move as they walked, each step causing their beautiful thighs to shake.

after their fourth place, you had to resist the urge to gasp and shift in your seat, as they once again came back over to your booth, squeezing themself into the tight space that had become and increasingly bigger struggle each time they waddled over. you weren't sure just how much they had shoved into their mouth, but it had been enough for the two of you, definitely. they brought back plates two at a time now, filled to the brim with creamy mashed potatoes and perfectly cooked steak, pasta, fried chicken, whatever they could fit on the plate. after your second plate, you had to stop just so you could watch in fascination as they kept eating, seemingly with no end in sight.

you almost came then and there when they looked up at you after their seventh plate and quietly asked if you could go up and get them dessert. you barely caught the end of their sentence, but your ears went blood red as you heard them say, "im so full...i can't move right now..." you did as asked, blushing the whole time as you filled the plate up with brownies, cookies, buttery rolls, chocolate covered strawberries and marshmallows, cheesecake bites and chocolate cake. with a last second thought, you grabbed a bowl and filled it to the brim with ice cream, covering it in whipped cream and all the topping they offered. you brought the plate back over to the table and watched the surprise bloom on your friend's flushed face, and your eyes dropped to where you could see their belt open and shorts unbuttoned, revealing their full, stuffed belly on striking display. they took the plate and began to eat slowly, letting out a whimper that went straight to your core.

by the time they had finished, they were practically falling asleep with the blissful pleasure of being full. they were leaned back against the seat, their belly pressed against the table even as it was pushed towards you, one hand absentmindedly rubbing their belly. you put the tip on the table and made to stand, freezing in place when you heard your friend mumble, "give me a minute, please? i don't think i can get up right now...."

[imagineyourepregnant]

Working Man

(first time ive ever written- pls lmk any comments or critiques in the chat-wonshy) Matt had been hired at the business company 9 months ago, and finally after constantly sucking up to his boss, he had been invited to his first conference meeting. It was only going to be a 3 hour meeting but all the higher ups in the company were going to be there. There was only one problem- Matt was 9 months pregnant- with triplets After Matt had received the call, letting him know that he had gotten the job, he went out to celebrate with some friends. Having had a few drinks too many he seemed to catch the eye of the hot bartender and one thing leading to another had Matt spending all night and the subsequent morning getting railed to high heaven. He reached a new record with amount of orgasms in one period that night. He had woken up this morning, excited for his first business meeting and with ideas on impressing his superiors when those thoughts were dashed as he sat up. 

Keep reading

[imagineyourepregnant]

The Travelling Sorceress Part 4 (Final)

part one - part two - part three

When the light subsided, I found myself in a large room filled with books and instruments. Messy and clutter tables with rows of glassware and paper with writings. Half the room was divided with a flight of stairs leading to more books and ladders.

A wide window at the end of the large room filled the place with morning light. It was finally dawn.

“Welcome to my study and workshop. You can either stay where you are, or look around if you’re capable enough to.”

The old man said as he walks over to a table cluttered with books.

I was currently on the floor with my tattered dress. My massive belly rested between my thighs on the dusty wooden floor. It was still a lot better than the gravel alley floor where I was at moments ago.

Now that the ambient lighting was better, I could make out that the old man was really my master that I haven’t seen in ages.

Master Jim. Jim Grigori, one of the few legendary Grandmaster wizards. And the master of Zaylen and I.

Keep reading

[roundelet]

A Thesaurus of Bellies

A reference for writers. If this enables one more sentence of chubby fic, my job is done.

Suggestions very welcome.

Updated here on a dedicated page with way more words (and organization)

CHUBBY

 ample  apple/pear  beefy  big  big boned  big frame  bigger  blimpy  blubbery  bulky  carrying extra pounds  chubby  chunky  corpulent  cuddly  dimpled  doughy  fattie  filled out  flabby  fleshy  floppy  fluffy  heavily built  heavy  heavyset  hippo  husky  large  meaty  obese  on the bigger side  out of shape  overweight  paunchy  plump  porker  porky  portly  pudgy  puffy  roly-poly  rubenesque  stocky  stout  thick  tubby  tubs  unfit  voluptuous well-nourished

BIG

 abundant   bloated         blob of    chunky  chubby  doughnut  flesh  full  heft   lush          mass  massive  mountainous       padded    plump     plush      rotund  round, rounded, rounded out  softened   swollen, swelled up  thick  wide 

BELLIES

 abdomen  beach ball  beer belly  blubber  girth  gut  middle  midsection    padding       paunch  pillow  pot belly  spare tire  stomach  tum  tummy  waist  waistline

BELLY PARTS

biggest/fattest/fullest/roundest part  love handles       mound    muffin top  overhang  rolls, fat rolls, side rolls  shelf   stretch marks   swells of fat    underbelly

WHAT BELLIES DO

 balloon out  bounce    bow out    bulge out  bump  droop  fill out  folds hang  jiggle  overflow  poke out  pooch out  protrude  push  quiver  settle  shake  shelf  sink       soften   stick out  suck in  swell out  tremble  wiggle  wobble

TOUCHES

 brush  drift over  explore  ghosting fingertips over  glide over  grab  hands sink in  knead  massage  pat  pinch  poke  push into  rest hand on  rub  rub circles /draw circles  squeeze  squish

FEELS

 comfy  cuddly  cushiony   dimpled   doughy  firm  lumpy  mushy  pliable  smooth  soft  squishy  warm  yielding

CLOTHES

 barely fasten  cling to  gape  outgrow  pop off  pull at  ride up   round out shirt  strain  stretch  struggle  tight  too small  wrinkle

[snoopingasusualisee]

I’ve never seen a video as powerful as “HIT IT JOE”

[snoopingasusualisee]

this man is the most powerful being on earth and nobody can prove me otherwise

[musingsofaraven]

It’s called a Photoplayer, and it was an instrument used to create background music for silent movies.

The clip is from California’s Gold (which I think was a mandatory show for any California PBS stations).

Here’s the guy’s website: http://www.rinaudosreproductions.com/antique-photoplayer.html

[dedalvs]

Reblogging for Huell Howser. No non-native Californian has ever loved California as much as that man.

[imagineyourepregnant]

Wes

Request #319-1: “Mpreg where the guy is holding the urge to push. Basically birth denial as he’s in denial (sure, he slept with some guy; sure the nausea and the big belly are suspicious and more the odd wiggly movements on his round belly but he’s not pregnant and he’s not giving birth!) And there twins. Bonis for detail on his belly”

—Inspiration struck me with this prompt. Hope you don’t mind the story telling. This is my first submission, lmk what you think! ~liloolong

••• ••• •••

“Wes?” Katy asked, but her friend wasn’t paying attention. “Earth to Wes?” She waved her hands in front of him. “You’re not thinking about that guy still, are you?”

“Hm? Me? No, no way. It was just a one night stand and it was like two months ago. He never texted me back. Didn’t mean anything.” Wes replied finally. They had chosen to forgo their usual dinner for a pizza and movie night, but the movie had long since ended.

“Uh-huh, sure. You can talk to me when you’re ready. I’ve gotta go, though, I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Hmm, okay see you next month,” he practically sighed. She left his apartment, and he was still thinking about him. It was strange, Wes was never an emotional guy. He slept with plenty of people, and never once got attached when he didn’t want to. Whatever. He cleaned up the pizza boxes and climbed into bed.

••• ••• •••

The next month when Katy and he had dinner, Wes showed up late to their favorite place.

“So sorry, Katy! I think the dryer shrunk my slacks, had to find something else at the last minute!” He explained. He didn’t realize he hadn’t washed them since the last time he wore them.

Katy waved him off and began rambling about this new girl she met. A friend of a friend, it’s probably nothing but she just feels that spark. Wes nodded along as his best friend gushed.

When their food came, he had ordered his usual, but suddenly it wasn’t appealing.

“Wes, you’ve hardly touched your meal, what’s wrong?”

“Not sure. I’ve been just so nauseous lately. I think I got food poisoning? I don’t know how long that’s supposed to last.”

Katy shrugged— she didn’t know either— and stabbed her fork onto his plate to finish up his meal.

Keep reading

[imagineyourepregnant]

Bubble Tea Pregnancy I - #317.8/#319.9

This may not quite adhere to the exact prompts provided, for which I apologize. I am contactable on DeviantArt as Dormammu12. I also have a blog at bellychats and 12dormammu on Tumblr, in addition to the handle which I used to submit this piece. Might edit and flesh this out a bit more. We’ll see.

—–

Irene slurped noisily on her bubble tea and set it down beside her.

Dr Chong glanced up, eyes narrowed, and Irene smiled at him sheepishly. “I don’t know why I bother,” he sighed. “If that gets irradiated, it’s on you, not me. As long as you’re willing to go through the necessary decontamination protocols, I couldn’t care less.”

“Thanks, Dr Chong.”

Irene liked bubble tea. It was way better than coffee and regular tea, mostly because of the sugar, and it was trendy enough in her city that she’d gotten to know more than a few people thanks to her passion for the drink. Technically, it was against the rules to bring any foodstuffs into Dr Chong’s lab, but Irene was an attractive young woman, and that was more than enough to persuade her employer to turn a blind eye.

“Don’t thank me,” Dr Chong snapped, returning to his work. “I want those results processed and analyzed by tomorrow. Got it?”

Keep reading

[chubbology]

Three Types of People Gaining Weight

The Pouter

The Pouter resents the effect food has on them. How just one little bite of something can lead to a full blown stuffing, making them feel helpless to the weight they’re putting on in droves. They’re the type who displaces blame. It’s the brain’s fault. It’s genetics. It’s the genetically modified food that is making them too fat to walk without waddling a little. Healthy food is too expensive; junk food is too divine. Exercise is too time-consuming; sitting all day is a required part of their 9 to 5. They pout their way through the day at their desk, sucking on their daily venti frappe, which they carefully don’t realize has been fattening up their ass so badly that it doesn’t really fit in their chair anymore. They pout when their clothes don’t look quite right and blame the dryer for shrinking them. They get angry when the elevator goes out of order, forcing them to pant and heave their way up the stairwell. Then they get irate when there’s nothing good left in the pantry to fill them up once they finally get to their apartment in the evening. The only thing that soothes their nerves is take out, and so they eat a lot of take out. The trash bin is full of take out containers, along the coffee table, and the countertop. Sometimes they reach the bottom of a container, so full but still needing to consume more, so they get take out from somewhere else. They wake up heavier every morning, but they don’t know that. All they know is that (because their arms and chest have blown up so big with flab) it’s getting hard to cross their arms when they’re annoyed.

The Blusher

The Blusher is the type who effortlessly gains a few dozen pounds in winter weight and doesn’t even notice until the weather warms. They happily pack away their winter clothes, pull on a well-worn pair of shorts, and…with a sharp pang of dread, find they can’t even tug the denim all the way up their bulkier thighs. Even without anyone around to ogle their thighs, or their chubbier face, or their larger love handles—which their shirt can’t quite seem to cover—they flush pink. A little ashamed and a lot embarrassed. Because how did they not realize? They gently touch their belly, thicker and curvier than it should be. They look in the mirror. And…whoa. They’re girthy all over. Their limbs are large and heavy-looking and they just look so big. They gained weight and were totally oblivious. Oblivious to how all those special-occasion splurges and one-off binges added up. With whispered curses and last-ditch tugging attempts, the Blusher tries on more clothes and outfits, hoping against hope that they’re not as big as they look and feel. Except almost nothing fits. And their belly keeps jiggling when they turn and bend and stand. And the dusted-off scale is showing them a number they can’t possibly believe. No, no, no. They can’t be that fat. With tubby fingers, they search and calculate on their phone to see…to see that they are teetering on the far end of the Overweight box in the spectrum. Just to the right, the more ominous Obese box lies in wait, colored a deep red. They blush that very same color, down to their second chin.

The Lip-Biter

The Lip-Biter is the type who stands in the kitchen, stuffing their mouth with a fifth donut as they press their heavy belly a little firmer against the counter. They’ve gotten fat, really fat, and they know it, but they nevertheless put off getting new clothes using money excuses, telling themselves that it’s not a big deal if they stretch the seams a little. Except eventually it’s not just a little, and the Lip-Biter, swallowing hard every time they get dressed, knows that. The truth is, they feel a rush when they notice their buttons strain over their breasts and torso. They hold their breath when they sit down slowly and aren’t sure if something’s going to rip. They sneak candies and chocolates at every opportunity, wondering idly how fat they’re going to get if they keep their bad habits up. They bite their lip at the thought of getting so obese that normal daily routines become difficult. They’re already not as fast as they used to be; they already sweat easier. After work some days, they buy a cake of some kind for a fake occasion and eat the whole thing at home, forkful after forkful, lacking any will not to gorge themselves. They spread their thighs apart a little more and let their clothes slowly stretch and snap as they eat. Lick their lips and squirm in pleasure.

[imagineyourepregnant]

Imagine You're A Doctor With a Special Patient Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Saturday finally rolled around, and you paced the lobby of your apartment anxiously as you waited for “David” to pick you up.

You rubbed your belly absentmindedly. Over the past few days it was undeniable, it had grown, and it was firm to the touch. It had been about a month and one week since David had impregnated you, so on a normal pregnancy scale you were probably just short of four months in. You’d already gained a bit of weight in addition to your baby bump so yesterday you had finally caved and bought yourself some larger clothes. You made another promise to yourself to fight your cravings, but man, you certainly deserved whatever food you wanted with everything you were going through. That’s what you told yourself the last four times you’d tried fighting your cravings, its probably what you’d tell yourself again.

A sleek red car pulled up in front of the building. It was the make and model David had told you to watch for. You gulped, and then walked out.

David gave you a reassuring smile as you walked up to the car. He was just as cute as before. Well not quite, because you didn’t uncontrollably want to take off your pants and fuck him, but there was something alluring about him all the same.

You opened up the passenger door and took a seat.

“Hey…”

“Don’t worry, I know this is awkward, I know you know this is awkward. I’ve done this many times before. So just take it slow, think about what you wanna talk about, and try not to get overwhelmed.”

“Okay…how?”

“Hmm?” David started the car and drove towards the coffee shop you’d agreed you’d go to. “How is this possible you mean?”

“Basically, how did you get a condition that makes one out of every thirty people you meet want to fuck you and get pregnant?”

“Huh, I’ve never been asked that first before. Sure people usually get to it, but I’m usually met with panic first, not curiosity.”

“It’s been over a month, I’ve done enough panicking. I’m a doctor, and I know for a fact that there’s no way such a condition exists.”

“Not naturally that is, long story short my parents are both scientists. They studied fertility. They wanted to find new ways to increase it and they dabbled with genetic modification.”

“And they tested on YOU?!”

“What? No! It was an accident. They’ve been doing their research all their lives, I grew up next to it. They had no reason to think anything they were doing was…contagious, and it didn’t come to light until I turned 18. It didn’t affect them, guess it had something to do with the fact that I was still maturing…”

“So…what happened when you were 18?”

David was silent for several moments.

“…We’ll get there. Let’s wait for coffee.

You knew you’d struck a nerve so you said nothing for the rest of the trip. It was ridiculous really. Why should you feel bad for him? You were the victim here. Or…were you? He said he’d done this many times. How many children did he have? What kind of crazy situations did he have to endure? After your pregnancy was over you could tell him goodbye and be done with it, he’d be dealing with this shit the rest of his life.

You rubbed your stomach and realized how hungry you were, hungry for…cool ranch Doritos…covered in chocolate.

Hmph, whatever tragedy David had been through, at least he didn’t have to deal with being pregnant himself.

You pulled into the coffee shop and you both wordlessly exited the vehicle.

“Hey David!” said the barista as you walked in. “Got another date?” He laughed and then spoke to you. “He brings ‘em in here all the time, but don’t worry, you’re definitely ‘the one’”.

David shot you a knowing look and then glared at the barista.

“Just kidding.” the barista replied. I mean not really, you sure do bring a lot of people here, but just looking out for them, honest. Gotta know what they’re getting into.“ He winked at you and went back to the espresso machine.

"Thinks he knows everything.” David mumbled. “If only he was one in thirty…”

“I hear you grumbling, come on David, you know you’re our best customer, what can I get ya?”

He ordered a double shot Americano, while you got your favorite. David had of course, offered to pay.

You sat down in the far corner of the cafe where almost no one else sat. You guessed this was David’s “usual spot” by the sly look the barista gave you as you sat down.

“So what are my options?” You asked.

“Well you can either keep the baby, which would be completely fine, or you can give it up for adoption, also completely fine. I can help you with that. I may have umm, 'had a thing’ with someone very high up at an adoption agency, I promise the kid will be in a good place.”

“Good to know…” You didn’t say anything after that. You were a practical man, you now knew that David would take care of covering your predicament. You wanted to know more about him, so you let him to the talking.

“…What else do you want to know?” he said after the awkward pause.

“What else can you tell me?”

“Well I, I usually just respond to things that others ask. Yes, you have to keep it, my parents’ strong fertility alterations mean the pregnancy can’t be terminated. Umm…you’ll get your male genitalia back a month after the birth, and yes there will be a birth, that’s a surprisingly common question…”

“What about you?”

“Huh?” he replied. Up until that point he had mostly just been twiddling his thumbs, but now he stared you right in the eyes. “Well me, I, like I said I’ve been dealing with this since I was 18, I’m 32 now so, I’m not exactly a stranger to this process. It’s all become pretty routine really. I’ve had "incidents” with a diverse enough group of people that I’ve got all the resources I need, no one wants their secret to get out. That includes money so if you need anything like clothes or supplies…“

"I’m a doctor remember? I’ve got money.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have to pay for anything to do with this. You’re already paying enough…”

You gave your belly a light rub and chuckled. “It’s not that bad, really.”

“Not yet..” David replied. “I mean, not that it gets awful! I’ll take care of you, I promise. It’s just, birth is birth, y'know?”

You looked down at your stomach, it already seemed so big compared to that fateful visit, but it was going to get a least twice as big. Probably more like three or four times as big…

“It’ll be over before you know it.” There was another silence before he added “You look good.”

“Ha, I’m sure you can see I’ve gained at least 20 pounds on top of the belly, and look at my chest.” You said, gesturing to your increasingly more feminine breasts.

“They’re not that big yet…”

“Yet.” you scoffed.

“Sorry! But it’s true, you’ll have to feed the child naturally for the first month, assuming you decide to keep it. You’ll have to pump either way…

"Oh Lord, let’s not talk about that until we have to.”

“I mean, you’ve got just under two months left. Time is shorter than you might want it to be…”

More awkward silence. You decided you were done with the awkwardness, you were sitting with a man you’d met only once before, who had given you a female reproductive system, impregnated you in your office, and was now going to guide you through said pregnancy. The situation was all fucked up already, you should just roll with it and get everything out in the open.

“So what’s up with the pheromones?” You asked. “Thought you said they’d be out of my system?”

At that David suddenly looked shocked, and then panicked.

“Ar-Aren’t they?”

“I mean, mostly yeah. I’m not looking for a repeat of your appointment, but they aren’t completely. I think I’m still somewhat attracted to you.”

“You-you are?”

“Yeah but, that’s just the pheromones talking, right?”

“They’ve never remained beyond the initial encounter before…”

Oh great, more silence. This is what you were trying to avoid. You felt newly sheepish. Maybe your feelings had nothing to do with David’s condition at all. You expected him to have a logical explanation, and then you could continue to talk on purely logical terms about your situation.

“No one’s ever had lingering feelings before, in fact a majority of them absolutely hate me after their initial libido. To be honest I rarely meet with anyone more than once…Hence this asshole thinking I’m a player…”

“Oh David you know I think nothing of the sort…” said the barista, having just arrived with your coffees at that moment. “I’ve been watching you though.” He said, turning to you. “He’s usually quite bored with everyone he brings here, they always babble on. But based on the looks on his face you’ve actually managed to intrigue him…”

“That’s enough!” shouted David. “I’ll be having a talk with your manager!”

“Enjoy yourselves!” The barista exclaimed, rushing away from your table.

“…He’d better hope I don’t have a 'one in thirty’ talk with his manger.”

You let you a laugh. David looked at you incredulously with a small grin on his face.

“That’s probably the first joke I’ve made about my condition, ever, and you actually laughed.

"Oh.” you suddenly blushed. “Well it was funny. You gotta joke about the serious stuff sometimes, otherwise you wont get through it. Like…this” you said as you gestured at your belly.“ Do you think I’ll end up with more of a basketball shape, or a bowling ball?”

“David’s face erupted into a big grin. "Ha! What the difference?”

“No idea, guess it’s just the difference on if my kid is more of a jock or a nerd.”

“Heh. So, do you think you’ll keep it then?”

“I don’t know, single parenting sounds hard…do you actually parent any of your kids?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t. It’d be hard, y'know? I’d be doing them a disservice by trying, they’d never get the attention they deserve. Best to just leave them with the parent they get all to themselves or with their adopted family. But…”

“But what?

"One of these days, I do want to get married, like for real. And have a real family. Kids I actually plan on having. Kids that can actually call me dad…It might be stupid, I know, to think I could ever end of with someone who wouldn’t mind that I’ll probably be getting people pregnant all my life.”

“I don’t know.” You replied. “They might be closer than you think…”

David looked at you, an intense fascination in his eyes. You took a sip of your coffee, but immediately spit it out. “Ughh, this is my favorite but it tastes like shit!”

“Pregnancy can mess with your taste buds. What sounds good to you right now?”

You paused. “…Chocolate covered Doritos…”

He smiled. “I just might be able to get some of those. Would you…want to come back to my place?”

“I’d like that.” You smiled back.

You never got any explanation for why you felt this way about David, but you didn’t care anymore, because something was happening with it. You always thought that you were completely straight, but your feelings for David? They were more than your feelings that day in your office, those feelings were hollow, but these? They felt…real. You got back into David’s car and watched him as he drove you back to his place. Then you put both hands on your belly. The last month had been filled with apprehension towards the thing you were growing inside you, but now you felt a sense of pride and appreciation for carrying David’s kid.

David offered you a drink at his apartment. You both talked, laughed, drank some more, and got preparations for your kid together. David kept habitually making the plans as if he would never see you or the baby again, but you kept subtly revising him until “checking in periodically” turned into “monthly visitation” which rapidly and unexpected turned into “let’s just live together”. On that suggestion, David brought you into his bedroom and you stayed the night, while essentially repeating the appointment at which you first met. Only this time, it felt real.

(Cyrille here, I finally got around to it! I suppose this could act as a conclusion to the series, but I definitely want to write more that actually focuses on the pregnancy and has less character-building, which I feel like I can actually do now if/when I get into a part 4. So be on the lookout for that!)

[imagineyourepregnant]

Horsin Around

Author Note: So this submission was inspired by request 292.4, but I added some transformation and stuff. So I dunno if it’s exactly what they wanted but I had fun. I always love reading requests here for writing exercises. If people like this I might have a sequel in me. Enjoy.

Dr. Jessica Han was in a pickle. She worked at a veterinary hospital that serviced horse breeders and other farms. She was 24 with a great body. The tan half-asian was 5'10, worked out a lot and had short blonde hair. She had full luscious hips with a eye catching jiggly round rump and heaving G cup melon shaped breasts. She’d gotten drunk at an office party and her roommate/co-worker Mia Charles had put up a dare as the two did shots in a dim lab. Soon Jess had her hips in the air while her roommate shot samples from a champion stallion charger deep into her pussy. The two hid the evidence and took an Uber home.

They’d forgotten about the events of the now blurry night as the hospital became busy for the next two months. Jess had bouts of what she thought was the flu on occasion but the nausea would come and go. Eventually she’d realized she hadn’t had her period.. Standing in the mirror she’d noticed her breasts had grown considerably and were quite tender. She’d had to buy several new bras. She’d also began packing on some weight in her tummy. She had been blaming the long hours and junk food binges. Now though even her scrub pants were tight, forget her jeans. Jessica’s stomach had grown round and larger than a softball. Jess walked out topless in a red thong to find Mia naked eating a bowl of cereal off her flat stomach. Her roommate waved a spoon at her lazily on their off day.

“Hey Mia do we have a pregnancy test?” Jess whined.

Keep reading

[bellyarchive]

[bellyarchive]

[bellyarchive]