A friend/child/pet is getting ready for a party and is struggling to do so. They call upon their mother (you) to assist them in getting ready. Try not to go mental with love and do some weird shit. Again. Like you tend to do.
Contains: Fauxcest, mommy kink, mommy reader, puppy-play stuff, lactation, breastfeeding, making someone fuck other people they aren’t interested in so they come back unsatisfied, huffing panties, and cleaning.
Word Count: ~3500
“yeah just come in” was the text she sent after ten minutes of you patiently waiting outside. You sigh as you fish your keys out of your purse. Hers was marked with a small bit of orange tape, right between the blue one and the pink one. It was a bit of a struggle to open the door. It was older than both of you combined and needed maintenance, but she was procrastinating just calling a custodian. She did that a lot. For instance, the second you're inside you see a sock on the floor. Nothing else, just one sock. Walking through to the open dining room and kitchen, there’s more loose clothes and some old takeout boxes and cans scattered. Not a slob nightmare by any means, but the start of one.
You pinch the bridge of your nose and continue moving, down to the bathroom door. You can hear her in there, the quiet clicks of makeup containers and shuffling of clothes. She was still getting ready. At this rate she’ll be so late the party will be over. “Honey, you alright in there?”
“Yes, girl. I’m fine…” You heard her swear under her breath.
“Alright.” You say, shuffling off back the way you came. You really wanted to barge in there, do her makeup, dress her, stare into her eyes. Patience, she will ask if she wants it. No point in mothering someone that doesn’t want it. And she will want it. You look over the wreckage of the kitchen, plates in the sink, trash scattered around, garbage can full. You glance at the dining room, spotting more and more things out of place by the second. You sigh again. She always needed help.
How wonderful it is that you are always here for her. It’s the least a mother-friend can do.
You stretch your back, a series of pops ringing out. You start with the garbage. Empty the can, haul it outside, put the various bits of packaging into the fresh can. It took only a few minutes. Next, the clothes. The clothes… They smell like her… So sweet and floral… You gather them carefully, bringing them all to the hamper downstairs in the basement. The armful was so close to your face. They smelled wonderful… You pull out your phone.
“Honey, can I swipe a keepsake?” You texted her. She responded quickly.
“wuh you wan a hoodie again?”
“I was thinking panties this time. The red ones.”
“oooo you dirty XP
sure :3”
“I’m not as dirty as your home. Thank you, dear.”
“HEEY >:U” You chuckle. When you pull the slim crimson underwear from the hamper, you hold it to your face and breathe deep. Your mind sends sparks and your chest feels heavy. God, you loved her so much. You needed to be there for her. Provide for her. Guide her. Own her. Your friend, your daughter, yours.
You stand there for a while, huffing on her scent as maternal need compounds. You spent longer smelling her clothes than putting them away.
Focus. Still work to do. Back to the significantly cleaner dining room. Only a few odds and ends here. A book that belonged in a different room, a remote away from the TV, stuff brought into here and discarded by her constantly rushing mind. She can’t help it. No matter, you knew her home intimately. You tidy it up all the time, whether she likes it or not. Thank goodness she likes it, and rewards you with a more direct embrace than panties can provide.
All that was left was dishes. Ah well, she still needed time. Idle hands and all that. It wasn’t hard, sponge and soap, nothing more. You hummed a meandering tune made up on the spot as you pile clean plates and cups up to dry. The last one was a dog bowl. She didn’t own a dog. Your chest burns. In no time you’re done. Mess cleaned. You glance at the clock on the wall, smiling at the fact it all only took thirty minutes. Would probably take her a full day. So needy, so sweet, so… so… your hand squeezes the memento in your pocket.
Your phone dings. A text. “mom, can you help” Your chest feels so heavy. A hand touches the front of your sweater. It’s damp. You half run to the bathroom, knocking thrice. It clicks open. Your daughter-friend looks absolutely dejected, face wiped clean of makeup. “I can’t get it right.”
“Don’t worry honey, mom’s here.” She opens the door and you immediately frown. She was wearing the baggiest clothes she had. An oversized hoodie she lifted from you and big cargo pants with clunky boots. She was hiding in her clothes. So shy. But a party wasn’t for shyness. “That outfit won’t work.”
“It won’t?” She looks downright panicked.
“You know why you’re going to this. You want to be around people, to mingle, to get out of the house a bit more.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know, baby, I know.” She hugs you, and you pet the back of her head. “But, you are allowed to be scared and still do something. That’s what bravery is.” Your voice goes from maternal to a growl. “Can you be brave for me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You raise an eyebrow. “Yes, mom.” You kiss the top of her head.
“Now, wait here.” The softness is back in your words. You rush off, making it to her closet and rifling through it. Where was- there! You retrieve a beautiful and sleek black dress and heels. She never wore this outside of your presence. But tonight you would share. It’s good to share the things you own. You rush back to her and hold the outfit up to her.
“That outfit?”
“Are you questioning me?”
“No, mother.” She straightens up, her face turning red. “It’s just that, that’s for you.”
“And I may do what I want with it.” You sway up to her, your heaving bust pressing into and dwarfing hers as her face burns. “Strip.” She moves quickly, throwing the baggy clothes off of herself, leaving her in just boxers and a sports bra. She just stands there. “All of it.” She’s much slower now, caution in exposing herself to you. One could mistake it as fear or discomfort, but no. She was teasing you. “Now.”
She speeds up again, naked in seconds. Her body was modest, at least compared to you. Small chest and small curves. Her hands begin to move to cover her up. “Hands at your sides. Stand up straight.” She obeys as best she can, slightly tilted to the left. You manually adjust her, feeling no resistance as you pose her. She’s smiling like an idiot. “Good girl.” You say as you slip two fingers inside her. Her breath becomes rapid as you finger her, feeling her get wetter by the second. “Don’t cum. Not yet. And don’t move.” She clenches her hands, body trembling as her face twitches. You reveled in the quiet sounds of her dripping onto the tile floor. You stop just before she cums and hold your fingers up to her face. She licks them clean. “Good girl.”
She beams with twitching pride, her hips swaying as if trying to wag a tail. “Arms up.” She obeys, allowing you to put the dress over her head and pull it down onto her, it easily sliding over her bare form and leaving little to the imagination. You circle her to make sure it’s on right. It is, but she doesn’t know that. You tug at the spot on her ass, pinching it through the fabric and making her gasp. “Are you alright, dear?”
“Yes, mom. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” You purr directly in her ear over her shoulder, her posture faltering for a moment as her eyes flutter. So easy. Your back aches as your chest feels even heavier, your top straining under it. You return to the front of her and take a knee. “Give me your left foot.” She lifts it, allowing you to place the first heel on. She does the same for the right. She has to adjust how she’s holding herself now that she’s in heels, teetering just a little. You smile and take a long step forward.
Your bust smacks into her face, sending her off balance with her arms flailing for the nearest solid surface for purchase. They could only find your chest, fingers sinking deep into the taut skin and providing enough pressure to spray milk out of you. You let out a satisfied moan as she continues to scramble, feet unable to ground themselves due to her footwear and hands taking advantage of the opportunity to grope you with reckless abandon. Each squeeze relieves some of the pressure inside you as you drain.
You allow your shoulders to de-tense and your eyes to close, happy as she milks you accidentally. She finally stops, steadying herself against you and getting back on her feet. You open your eyes and see her, nuzzled against your chest, happy eyes and a dumb smile staring at you. A dog. A dumb, adorable dog.
All the pressure relieved immediately returns, body producing more milk at the sight.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes, mom. T-Thank you.” She squeaks.
“Wonderful, now, sit. We have to make you look stunning.” She nods and sits onto the toilet, hands on her knees with perfect posture. So polite for you and only for you.
The tight black dress was an intoxicating sight. An eye twitches as your breathing hastens for a moment. You hum her favorite song as you work. Mascara, eyeliner, blush, the works. You don’t need to say a word as you adjust her head, it obediently follows the push and pull of your hands. “So pretty. My little girl, out on the town.”
“Mom, I’m three years older than you.”
“And you’ll always be my baby.” She gets that beautiful flustered smile that makes you wild. You’ve both said those exact words before, again and again, yet she still gets flustered at it. She takes glances at your chest. “Hungry?”
“No, ma’am. Not now, ma’am.” She was lying, you could see it in her eyes. Oh well. You pick up her hairbrush, frowning at the mess of hair tangled in it. No matter, it worked as you put her hair into order. She had the cutest wavy hair, ended just above her shoulders. She looked stunning every time she grew it out.
You dust off her outfit a little, half to clear off the small bits of whatever clinging to it, half to drag your hands over her chest over and over. You felt her nipples harden under your hands, poking through her clothes. She squirms and whimpers. Like a dog. Your eye twitches. “Missing something.” You purr, opening the cabinet over the sink and pulling various lipsticks out. “Which color today, dear?”
“The blue one.”
“Good choice.” She lights up. So cute. You hold her head up as you finish her makeup. She rubs her lips together and pops them. You keep holding her head, staring into her hazel eyes. Just staring for a long while, enjoying the sight of her squirming more and more, your gaze enough to work her up. She was like a doll. Stiff like a doll, you dressed her like a doll, obedient like a doll. Obedient like a dog. Your perfect little girl. Your eye twitches again. “Honey.”
“Yes, mom?”
“It’s missing something.” You grab another lipstick, the deep red one. You stare her down as you apply it to yourself perfectly. You’ve done this countless times. “Pull your dress up.” She turns red as she obeys slowly. Exposed and dripping. You go to your knees. “Stay still for me.”
“Y-Yes, mother.” You latch onto her, kissing her pussy and dragging your tongue across it. She twitches and wiggles, making pretty little squeaks as you tease her. You plant kiss after kiss around it, obvious kiss marks to mark her as yours and as well loved. You slip your tongue inside, pressing against her favorite spot and hearing (one of) your favorite sounds as she moans, head flinging back.
“M-Mom. I-I- please. I wanna. Please.”
You pull back for only a moment. “Cum.” You latch back onto her, tongue plunging deep as she shudders and whines, hips bucking against your face as she cums. You lap greedily, reveling in her taste. So sweet, so delicious. She had a rigid diet meant to optimize her taste for you, and you could tell she was sticking to it. Addicting. Addicting. She gasps and shudders as you stand up. “Good girl.” She trembles, biting hard on her lip as her perfect posture collapses. She pants like a dog. “Speak.” She yips. You smile, your chest aches. A glance in the mirror shows your beading milk through your sweater. “Still missing something.” You lean down to eye level. “Go get it.”
She crawls over to the sink, wiggling her hips as she digs through it. She pulls out the black leather collar and rises to her haunches, arms curled like the puppy she was. It had a little silver tag with her name on it and your contact information on the back. You take it and latch it around her neck. “This won’t come off for the night, okay?” She yips, tongue hanging out as she pants. “Good girl.” You pat her head. Your breathing is heavy. Still. Missing. Something. You pull the straps of her dress down her shoulders, exposing her modest chest, nips hard. You kiss them each once, twice, three times, and one last one encircling each nipple. She barks in joy. You admire your handiwork. There were over a dozen kisses lining her body. Finally, she was ready.
“Get up and make yourself modest enough. I’ll get the car ready.”
“OK, mom.” She says excited, fidgeting with her outfit as she makes sure it’s tight as possible against her.
------
You’re still breathing heavily, hand clutching the red keepsake in your pocket. She was so good tonight, she deserved to enjoy herself. You check your phone. She’s going to be half an hour late. Not too bad. She opens the door to get in the back. “No. The front seat.”
“But-”
“You’ve been perfect tonight. Consider this a reward.” She skips around the car and hops into the seat next to you. You pull away and down the dimly lit roads of the town. You glance at her, she’s staring. You needed release. You pull up your sweater and let a tit fall out. She begins to drool. “Drink, I know you’re thirsty.” She all but lunges as she grabs your breast and locks her lips around it, suckling like the little puppy she is on her mommy. “Now, tonight, I want you to be social. A good, happy dog.” She nods. “Go and see if you can find someone to share the night with. Have fun, be the dirty dog you are. And then, when you come back, unsatisfied that the person you slept with wasn’t me, I’m going to treat you even better. Do you understand?” She makes a muffled moan and nods. “Good girl.” She drinks from you the entire ride, the sucking sound more beautiful than anything the radio could ever play.
------
You lean against your car, watching the crowd of drunk party goers staggering off, trailing behind the designated drivers like obedient little dogs. You had dogs on the mind. One dog, specifically. You had spent most of the time waiting for the party to end in a cafe, and when you weren't there you were smelling the red panties. Licking them. Sucking them. Forcing your breast into your mouth and drinking like mad. Your hand was gripped hard on her leash behind your back. You were going to break her.
And there she was, hunched a bit as she blends into the leaving crowd. The second she sees you, she straightens up, sober as ever. She rushes to you, jumping into your arms into a tight hug. “Hi, mom!”
“Hello, dear. So how was your night? Did you have fun, meet someone?”
“Yes, ma’am! Someone complimented my collar so I focused on him.”
“Was he good?”
“Not really. He was fine, but he got winded after the first round.” She shifts her weight from side to side. “I didn’t cum.”
You frown. “Awful.” She whimpers. “Oh, honey, you’re fine. Don’t feel bad. I’ll fix that, just like how I fixed up your makeup.” You growl. Her hips were wiggling, still mimicking a wagging tail. You pull out her leash and attach it to her collar. Some drunk nearby shouting something about being kinky at you two with slurred speech. Her face is bright red.
You’re deeply tempted to speed on the way home. You never let go of her leash. Her hands never left her knees, and she didn’t slouch for a second.
You lead her up to her bedroom by the leash, with her on all fours and panting. She hops over the bed, invisible tail wagging as she yips. You reach under her bed and pull out the oversized strapon she keeps for your use only. No matter who she is sent to fuck, you are the one that gets special treatment. You were her mother after all. The only person that could satisfy her. She was yours. She spins around and props her ass into the air. You growl.
You work into the usual cycle, pounding her into the dust as she barks and begs until she cums, then spinning her around and making her lick the strap clean, just to repeat it all over. Again and again, late into the night. Her howling driving you both into animalistic fucking as you shower her with praise.
Good girl.
Good puppy.
So good.
The best.
Her tongue lolls out, the only noises she can make are barks, yips, and howling. You lean on top of her, pinning her under you as you split her with the oversized strap. You silence her barks by sticking your tongue in her mouth, kissing her again and again, making her cum again and again. Melting her little puppy brain until it’s as simple and happy as a dog should be.
Best girl.
Bestest girl.
Do you want a treat?
She barks repeatedly, panting like mad. You pull out of her and discard the strap, planting your bare pussy onto her face. She takes no time to lap at it, expertly eating you out in the way you trained her to. Her hands clench at the sides of her, begging for permission. You deny it a little longer, grinding on her face, soaking her head, smiling as you watch her fists ball tighter and tighter as they plead for your body. Such a good puppy, showing such restraint.
“Grab me, puppy.”
Her hands fly into your love handles, pulling down to force as much weight as possible onto her. They grasp, glide, rub, massage, every motion possible, just as desperate to please you as her tongue was as it lapped at your cunt. Your body loses all tension as you reward your puppy, growing closer and closer to climax.
Good puppy.
Best puppy.
My puppy.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
You rise for a moment and slam down onto her face, cumming hard and half drowning her as her arms do their best to keep you in place so you fully drown her. Your moans melt into laughs and back again, your pet twitching as one of a dozen orgasms rip through her from the act of pleasing you. “Baby, are you ready for round two?”
She yips.
“What about round three?” Your breath quickens as you feel her squirm under you. “Four?” She makes growling noises a puppy would make playing. “Ten!? Speak!” You give her a breath by moving off her face and onto her chest.
“T-Twenty. Twenty rounds, please mommy. So, horny. In- heat!” She devolves back into barking. With a grin of wonderful intentions, you lean over and retrieve the strap on.
“I’m going to break you in half.~” She howls with approval.
It repeats.
On and on.
You both only stop when the sun begins to rise, collapsing into a cuddling pile with your strap still buried inside her as sleep takes you both. You wake well rested hours later to the beautiful feeling of tugging on your mouth filling teats, you daughter suckling with closed eyes, stomach taut from who knows how long drinking from you. “Good morning, honey.” She moans. You notice the low hum of a vibrator nestled between her legs.
She detaches from you. “Mommy. I want to thank you. Please, let me, let me.”
You smile and spread your legs. She buries her face under your stomach, tongue lapping against you. You relax into the bed. She’ll tire herself out in a while. Maybe an hour. Maybe you’d make her do it all day…
Your legs wrap around her head and you lean into the bed.
Couple signs up for the intensive breeder program and takes to it instantly.
Contains: Breeding, hyper-pregnancy, LOTS of pregnancy, full body growth, muscle growth, extreme weight gain, lactation, talking about becoming a god of breeding, weird thoughts about breeding, breast and ass and everything expansion, also a snake furry.
Word Count: ~2850
The couple shifted in their seats, a mix of excitement and hesitation clinging to both of them. A thoroughly plain couple, one Asian man, one Hispanic woman, no modification of any nature. Average to an extent that it was boring. But here they were, across the desk of a serpent woman that could bump her head on the ceiling if she straightened up, her massive tail that made up her lower “half” piled behind her as she crossed Ts and dotted Is on the forms to enroll the two into the breeder program. Specifically the intense section. It’s one thing to have a kid every few months, maybe with some modifications to make the pregnancy easier. But the intense program was, well, intense.
It was the equivalent of ripping the internals of a car out and replacing them with state of the art specialized racing specs, but for your reproductive system. Pregnancies always of 4 kids at least, usually much more, pregnancies that last weeks instead of months, overclocked libidos and nurturing instincts just to optimize through-put. There were billions of couples and polygamists that wanted kids now, and either didn’t want the pregnancy hassle or were incompatible with each other's anatomy and unwilling to get modified. And with so few willing to dedicate all their time and bodies to the cause, there would always be room for the perverts that want to breed constantly.
“Ssssso,” the towering serpent hissed, “your formssss are in order. Everything is sssset. We can get you into the chamber and modified.” She adjusts her tortoise shell glasses. “If you have any ssssecond thoughts, now is the time to back out. Reversssing this can be… traumatic.” The pair look into each other's eyes, holding hands as they nod.
“We’re ready.” The woman says.
“Yeah, ready.” Says the man.
The serpent stamps the forms and puts them into a folder. “Your firsssst paycheck comes in tomorrow, you get one a day, of course. If there are any complicationsssss, we’re here to help.” She holds out a contact card just as plain as the couple currently was. The couple rises unsteady and exits the office. Ms. Vic takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. She fidgets with the gauge in her cobra hood, a stim she uses only when frustrated.
She’s seen more lustful and/or impassioned people turn away. Most that fantasize about immobility under a pregnancy bump get bored, and the ones with dicks grow to resent just how much work goes into tending the chores AND relieving the constant pressure inside their balls.
Those two won’t last a month. Another sealed case to shove into the archives.
A spark of hope inside her hoped she was judging books by covers.
—--
Red clutches his face with one hand, sweat dripping off his forehead and onto the table he was bracing himself on. His quarter meter dick dumped another load onto the ground, coconut sized balls swelling just that bit larger as muscles thickened to support his new girth. His teeth were clenched so hard they might bleed, as he tried to be stoic. The sex-repressed majority of his mind had been in denial about this whole arrangement. It was good money, it was to make families across the stars, it was a moral good. All bonuses, not the main prize. The growth, the lust, the excuse to indulge in every smothered fantasy. That was the reality he was confronting alongside three dozen dreams of fathering generations.
His dick explodes, gaining ten centimeters. He fails to stop a moan quite enough to be drowned out by his gurgling balls. He couldn’t put it off forever. He. Had. To. Breed. Her.
Trish sputters, head lolling from size to side as her spine is alight like a main electrical line. Empty, that’s all she could think about. A decade of edging to images of pregnant strangers, starting with the normal pregnancy kink stuff before doing it to even the most banal photos. A decade of hiding her lust behind locked doors and under sheets, of erasing her search history. What a gamble she took confiding in her love, who simply had to be her soul-mate now.
And how it paid off!
She flexes her back as her hips pop and stretch, bone warping to widen her birth canal to make it all seamless. A part of her laments not enjoying the struggle of childbirth, the fantasy of long months of craving and vomiting, showing her dedication to her one true kink. But that was nothing compared to what she was going to do. Going to be. Her breasts, already E cups, begin doubling in size. She manages to force a nipple into her mouth, sucking hard as it swells into a nub the size of her thumb, drops of milk dancing on her tongue as she cums. Her juices arch across the room and splat on the wall, her shoulders digging into the bed. She slams a fist onto the mattress, snarling as her legs fatten into pillars of meat begging to be abused by someone as feral with lust as her.
Bones pop more as she grows bigger, taller, wider, more space for her womb, more support for her udders, more, more, more.
Red was pumping his dick like mad, accepting how it was growing in his hand, how it pushed against his fingers, how the mound of cum piled up and up, how it all made him feel better than anything had before. A connection in his synapses was made, his body stretching up with cracks and groans, his shortish one point seven meter tall frame, once shorter than his lover, was now clearing two meters without stopping. Muscles piled up just like the pool of jizz, arms that could bend metal bars exploding into existence as veins appeared across his godly frame.
Godly. Godly. Fertility God. A new kink was unlocked in this essentially a virgin man.
He snorted like a bull as he took a set towards the door, his half a meter dick jutting forward like a third leg and drooling a steady flow of seed, leaving a snail-trail as house shaking footsteps echoed out.
She heard him approach, his footsteps deafening. He slammed the door open, a hinge ripping free of the frame and making it hang loose. The light from the hallway blocked by the wall of inhuman muscle that was now her lover, her breeder, her great swinging cock. She pried open her pussy with both hands to welcome him, it gaping wide enough to easily fit a normal sized fist in it with room to spare.
He pounced like a tiger, hilting her with newfound agility. The floodgates on her milk shattered as she sprayed buckets through the air. They could hear each other's hearts swelling, beating like drums, blood rushing with such intensity it was audible, background noise of rushing liquid covered by the rhythmic claps of walls of flesh slamming into each other. Folds bloomed across her as she neared one ton in weight, mountains of padding slapping against each other in a chorus of plaps that cheered them both into animalistic breeding.
It took no time for him to cum, and even less to cum again. Her midsection grew in pace with the flood as her womb churned out eggs for her man to claim. They roared, and growled, they raked red marks on each other's skin as they clutched each other tight, as if letting go would mean death. It might as well have. This bliss was everything, their mind reknitting from the heavy modifications until breeding superseded all needs. A permanent haze of being in heat, with lust all too eager to let it happen to uncork wasted years of being locked away.
She reveled in the weight growing to be immobilizing, pelvis pinned by an ass the took up most of the bed and left her pelvis high in the air, the perfect angle to keep all his seed in, ribs half crushed by mounds of milk production that had surpassed any practical form of measurement, a womb that was bigger than both of their old selves combined. It wasn’t just that, her legs swallowed themselves, too thick to walk again, arms became too plump to move without making her a huffing mess, everything piling up and multiplying to have enough fat to sustain the broods she would create.
She wasn’t satisfied. The dreams of feeling her pregnancy bump touch the ceiling, of a dozen kicks driving her mad, of knocking the walls down in a tide of her, of flooding the house, the neighborhood, the continent, the world, THE GALAXY, EVERYTHING. Those plagued her mind. She hadn't stopped cumming for one second during this.
He flexed his upper half, hormones raging as coherent thought was blasted into impossibility. He wasn’t a person, not for now. He was breeding stock, he was fertility, he was the concept made flesh in divine form. He flexed every muscle just to feel veins bulge. Greedy hands sunk into pillowy ass, deep enough to disappear. He grunted and huffed, eyes locked onto her wobbling sea of fat, her face contorted in mind breaking bliss, eyes rolled into her head. He wanted her bigger, he wanted to be bigger. This wasn’t enough, he deserved better, they deserved better. He wasn’t a lonely God, this was a two member pantheon. The thought made his balls empty in one spray strong enough to blast through a concrete wall, his lover wailing as it pounded her deepest parts and spurred on yet more growth. They refilled and overflowed in seconds.
Why be a two God pantheon? A three, a four, a ten, hundreds, thousands, multiplying and growing around him, mountains of fertility piled high and eternally cumming as they screamed for him ONLY HIM. Millions, he would fill planets with his legacy and become a legend to rival any being. A towering pillar that was above the clouds, drowning countries in shadow and spraying sticky rain onto eager cities, mere contact blessing the masses with his next brood.
The two were in one twisted mind. Something primal sparked alive, not of magic or psychic nature, simply of the beauty that comes when great minds think alike. They locked eyes over the swell of her in the last moment they could.
“More. Bigger. More. Bigger.” Their voices deep and rumbling, shaking dust in other rooms off shelves. Her expanse blocked their vision of each other, but it didn’t matter. Their eyes stayed locked. “MORE. BIGGER. MORE!” A burst of her growth made him brace against the floor, his feet sliding across it and tearing up the wood. His head cracked the ceiling as he spiked in size in response to her, his tree trunk dick bigger than she once was. “BIGGER. BIGGER. ALWAYS!” Two minds went blank as the beasts, the Gods, roared.
The bedroom windows crack from their volume, the noise snapping the drowned normalcy in the two of them onto the surface.
Trish spoke first. “Oh fuck.” She said in the voice she had before all the excitement.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re getting paid enough to cover much more than that. Although I think we need to be somewhere more… spacious.” He looked off to the sides, noticing the hills of breasts that were almost touching the walls, and how his back was touching the one behind him. He could feel the drywall crumpling a bit as it relaxed. A dull pounding was in his head, like a mild hangover. “You feel OK?”
“I feel like a cavity that’s just been filled.” She tried to move an arm to rub her boulder of a pregnancy bump. No luck considering the bags of fat on it and the breast atop it. “This was perfection.”
He chuckled, rubbing a hand on his chin. It was a lot sharper than before, with stubble on it. “I’ll have to shave.” He noted in his mind. He tried to pull out of her, the wall behind making that impossible without impromptu demo work. He barely took a step back and the wall crumbled down, a massive breeding monster sized hole now leading into the hall. He had to touch the other side of the hall and crack it to pull all the way out, the slick pop it made causing them both to moan and go weak kneed.
“Holy, fuuuuck. You’re so, so, so much.” Lust was rekindled as she swelled that bit bigger. “I-I need a toy, a massive fucking toy. I can’t bear this emptiness.”
“Got it. I’ll find one. Probably gonna need it custom made.” He said the last part under his breath. Looking down he saw the uneven flow of cum leaking from her destroyed hole. It was getting everywhere. He was reminded of the mess he made before. He exhaled as he remembered the pamphlet that emphasized the amount of work he was going to be doing as the mobile partner. A part of him was concerned, the rest thrilled at the constant proving of his dedication to his Goddess of fertility.
He lumbered over to the closet, punching footsteps into the wood flooring. Another mental note to get reinforced everything in the new place. He’ll need a list. He pulls the mop inside out, realizing he easily holds it on one hand, like how one could hold a flute.
He laughs at the realization of just how intense all this was, and how something so mundane put it into perspective.
—--
Ms. Vic grunts as she pushes open the massive metal doors that lead into the warehouse-looking home. Bi-Monthly inspections were her favorite part of the job, and the Kriegs were her favorite and star cases. She had never been so happy to have been so wrong. The second she slithered inside she could hear the loud slapping of the lovers breeding. A smile and a pleased hiss marked her unrepressed pleasure at seeing people indulge while doing good.
She rang the large bell by the door. Red installed it just so visitors could alert him. The wonderful noises stopped, and thundering footsteps approached her in the expansive living room filled with metal furniture much too large for elephants. The five meter behemoth that was Red rounded a corner with his shoulders grazing the walls, his dick belching cum at the sight of her. She bit her lip as she imagined what his mind thought upon seeing her.
“Ms. Vic! I forgot you were coming today. I always get mixed up for a few days after birth. Lotta delicate things that need tending to.” His voice rattled her, rolling like thunder.
“It’sssss OK, dear. I take no offense. You two are always so busssssy. It’s admirable.” She could not take her eyes off him, they drifted from his dick to his chest to his beaming smile high above. She felt empty in her womb. He didn’t need any pheromone mods to induce that in her. “I’m not just here for regulationssss.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve been sssssso productive over the months. I’m here to congratulate your fiancé. Sssssshe has surpassssed one thousand children at lassssst.” Her serpent lisp always acted up something fierce when she was worked up. Empty. So empty. She was a part time member of the program…
“That’s wonderful! Trish tries to keep track but uh, numbers are hard when you’re mid orgasm. And she’s almost always mid orgasm, if not from the toy then from the pumps.” Ms. Vic was suddenly aware of the rhythmic chugging of engines in a distant room. She’d heard them before, but they were faint enough that her distracted mind tuned them out. “I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you.” The giant fidgeted for a moment, as if he was not a man so comically built to breed like an animal that he could uproot trees with ease and was instead a meek little boy. God, he was pathetic while built like that, a lethal combo. “You know, the offer is still on the…”
Fuck it. It was a milestone. A cause for celebration. “Sssssure, ssssstud. I accept your generousssss offer.” The giant gave an eager smile with glittering eyes, his dick belched cum in an arch over her.
An hour later, the inspection was done, and a heavily bloated case worker slithered through the massive metal doors. Her clutch filled womb dragged along the ground as she leaked cum. She made a mental note to do this again. And again. More. More. Bigger. Bigger.
She shook her head. Those two were a terrible influence.
She couldn’t wait to return. Maybe sooner than two months.
Elaborate fantasy and sci-fi worldbuilding as necessary context and structure for porn is great, but what's really fantastic is when the worldbuilding is a product of the porn. It clearly didn't need to be there, but at some point the author took a closer look at the porn and started asking "okay, so what does this imply?"
Inspired by @buttexpansioncaps - "Bounce Virus" stories.
(@BeckMoon1 on twitter)
You can find an archive of some of their stories on Tumbex
A story about getting lost in your your phone, doom scrolling as the world outside fades away. Letting yourself go numb as your ass gains quaking mass the further into trance you fall.
Available to read on the following platforms:
DeviantArt
Fur Affinity
CryptPad
Gangle and Zooble had immediately run off to who knows where when Caine announced the update had gone live. Pomni didn’t know what Jax and Ragatha’s reactions were—Jax had left the moment the AI said the word “sex” and Ragatha had left after the word “npc." She hadn’t asked the next time she saw them because… quite honestly, she didn’t want to know. Kinger had patiently listened to Caine explain the mechanics of it all and then politely declined—he didn’t want to imagine being with anyone other than his wife, and that ship had already sailed years ago.
As for Pomni herself…
Well.
So far she was having problems.
From March 13th to May 12th, I did a challenge to write 50,000 words of just oneshots to help get my words out and start writing stories instead of just writing notes about them forever.
With the release of this fic, this challenge is now complete at 59,244 words. I’ve been working on it for over a month now to the detriment of pretty much everything else, and now it’s finally done.
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals. I’m gonna go shrivel up into a corncob now.
Canyon walls of women. Delightful. As I walk through the valley of the shadow of bliss, and all that.
Damn, you always do size difference so good. Look at how fucking big they are! One steps forward and you're pinned! Delightful!
A woman that is very serious about Easter and egg hunting receives the job offer of her dreams in one of the most unusual ways possible. She then takes on the mantle in one of the most sexual ways possible.
(Fun fact: The draft for this story was made in march of 2021! Wild!)
Contains: Furry transformation, ovulation, egg laying, breast expansion, ass expansion, weight gain, bunny, implication that people eat the eggs that are ovulated.
Word count: ~2000
She came home disappointed. She had fun with egg hunts all her life, participating or planning. But this year has been abysmal. Whatever Easter bunny was assigned to it really dropped the ball. The town has an annual egg hunt, and she always does a search hours before the event begins, just to have some fun alone and make sure nothing is out of a kid's reach. But there were barely any eggs hidden, and the few there were tucked away in ridiculously difficult spots. Who hides eggs at the tops of trees or tangled in telephone wires? One was under a manhole cover, no kid could lift that. She found about two dozen, and realized those were the only eggs around. But, not being heartless, gladly re-hid them in spots that the children could reach.
At least they could have a bit of fun, and she kept the last egg she found for herself. A real one, painted light pink with little red hearts speckled on it. It spoke to her, in some way she couldn’t quite place. At least she could have a festive snack.
She cracked it open, shocked to see the inside being an oversized and pink yolk. It wasn’t uncommon for the dying process to discolor the whites, but the yolk was hot pink as it sizzled in the pan sunny side up. What was weirder was that it smelled of… Peeps? It cooked like any other egg, and she was hungry. Hopefully it wouldn’t taste funny.
She slides it onto a plate, and teases it with a fork. It seemed fine. A little piece of the white was cut off and slipped into her mouth. It was delicious, good enough to make her head spin. Good enough to make her not notice the strange tingling across her body. She takes another bite, letting out a muffled moan as her head reels from the otherworldly sweetness. It was like a store's worth of Easter candy crammed into one egg. She didn’t notice the changes it was causing. Her shirt is straining now, breasts beginning to grow, blowing past D cups as they settle into E cups. Her jeans start developing tears as hips flare out over the sides of the chair. The button snapping on them as her stomach piles on weight. She wasn’t thin before, but now she was certainly curvy with new fat. Two long and floppy bunny ears replaced the ones on her head with a layer of brown fur. But all she could notice was the taste as she took another bite, this time getting some of the yolk on her fork.
Her eyes bug out of her head as it melts on her tongue. When she’d try to describe the taste later, all she’d be able to say was that it tasted like “joy.” Her world collapses in on itself as she moves on instinct, shoveling the rest into her mouth to drown in the flavor. She shudders and goes slack in her chair as her body groans.
Her front teeth stretch out as her face warps into a muzzle with a tiny button nose, wiggling as she mindlessly chews her meal. Fur begins to sprout all over in a thick fuzzy pelt as her fattening body explodes from its cloth prison in a shower of ripping noises and tattered rags and she grows a bit in height. That snapped her out of her food lotus dream. She finally looks at herself, realizing that she’d been transformed. She squeals with glee. She was a little bunny! Well not little, the chair was straining under her, but still! Cute! Yet, she wished that she was a bit fluffier, a bit more rabbity. If only she grabbed a second egg. She glances at her plate and sees the new egg that has appeared, just as pink as the last one. Was it an eternal egg? Would it just keep coming back? Most importantly, would it make her fluffy? Only one way to find out.
She scarfed it down as if starving, and marveled as her body groaned.
Her chest began to spill out, a large tuft of fur growing between tits bigger than her head. The chair under her made an ominous crack as her ass ballooned, a tail sprouting above it. Her hair lightened into white as brown fur spread over almost everything, only her sensitive bits still furless. She was ecstatic! She looked like an Easter bunny! A real one! A very sexual one- but still! She always wanted to be one! If only she had eggs on hand to hide.
Then she felt butterflies in her stomach. Intense ones. She felt full, far fuller than two eggs should have made her. She rumbles as her gut suddenly inflated into a large bump, stretching out with almost painful pressure. What was in her stomach? An alien? No, it wasn’t in her stomach, it was somewhere else. It also wasn’t one mass growing in her, it was many things. Round, oval things. They felt smooth.
Her brain makes the connection. Eggs. Easter bunnies. She thought that was just a crude joke.
The pressure grew, she felt dizzy, body moving on its own, muscles flexing as she felt something coming. She shuddered and moaned as she began to push. It was surprising. She expected it to hurt but was met with a feeling not of pain, but pure pleasure. It felt right. Natural. Good. So fucking good. The pressure building inside was driving her mad. Her mind was short circuiting, eyes crossing and body on fire as she strained. The chair under her finally collapses, the impact of her slamming onto the ground just what the egg wedged in her needed to come out with a wet pop. With that she cums, womb clenching around the carton or so of eggs in her. She laughs like a drunkard and catches her breath, a wave of relief washing over her as a festive egg with carrots painted onto it rolls away. Then the pressure mounts again, her body not stopping, overloading her with pleasure as another begins pushing out. She braces herself on the ground and keeps going. In seconds another pops out, each one coming out easier than the last and bringing its own orgasm. She grits her teeth and groans, pumping out half a dozen eggs in a minute, each one bringing new heights of pleasure, each one faster than the last.
She keeps expecting it to stop, for her stomach to go down, for the pressure to relax, but it doesn’t. She keeps pushing out pretty little eggs. Her mind grows hazy again, rational thought subsumed by primal need. She needed them out. She needed all of them out. And she could feel her body generating more by the second. She closes her eyes and lays there, whimpering with bliss and pushing out eggs.
Eventually she stops after hours of perpetual orgasm, the last eggs coming out with barely any effort. Her legs weak, body sore, addled by the afterglow of the most intense orgasms of her life. Her womb was still bulging, eggs slowly multiplying inside. But for now she was good, if sad it was over. She looks around, surrounded by painted easter eggs. But there was a bright yellow letter next to her with her name on it. Odd, and that’s considering just how odd today has been. She takes it.
“Dear, Shelly.
We are so pleased to see you passed your test and are happy to report that you did so with flying colors! And in near record time too! It was very impressive seeing you track down all 24 like that, you really live up to your Easter loving reputation!
As you’ve just experienced, you have been magically transformed into a new Easter Agent and we are delighted to welcome you aboard as our newest bunny! Now, your transformation was more explicit than normal, most bunnies don’t actually lay the eggs they’re meant to hide, but no matter! We are always happy to allow for a diverse crew with unique methods! We inspected a bunch while you were busy and they’ve come up sterile and ready for hiding. Neat!
Now, assuming you are willing to accept, your first assignment is to hide your newly created eggs around town in time for the festival. We’re confident based on your previous performance that you’ll be able to manage and impress! There’s a bottomless egg basket and a new outfit on your table for modesty’s sake, but while on the clock you’ll be imperceivable by all, allowing for true secrecy while hiding eggs.
Best of luck on your first day!
-Edwin E. Bun-a-Million
She looked at the time, eleven o’clock exactly. A single hour before the local egg hunt officially began. Her remaining haze of lewdness drifts away as she snaps back into Easter-mode. She hops to her feet and grabs the clothes left for her. It was a large sundress with a trim of bunnies and was in all pastels. It slips on easily and is quite comfortable. She looked so cute! This was a dream come true!
She snatches up the wicker basket and piles hundreds of little eggs of all types into it, painted eggs, candy eggs in wrappers, plastic ones with stuff in them, she was apparently very productive… She felt her insides churning again. She keeps it together and hops away, bounding outside to begin her first day of work.
-----
It was, by far, the best egg hunt the town has ever had. It was a bit odd, because the bunnies said that there might be trouble this year, something about a new hire, but no! There were hundreds of eggs all over town! In stores, the park, the streets, everywhere short of peoples houses! Whoever handled it was a real passionate professional. Margret looked at all the people of her town enjoying themselves and smiled. If she could meet the bunny that did this, she’d shake their hand.
“Excuse me, Ms. Mayor?” Said a deep voice behind her.
“Oh, please, call me M-M-Ma-Ma” She was stunned when she turned around, seeing a towering and heavily pregnant bunny woman in a form fitting dress with lethal curves looking down at her with the most adorable smile she’s ever seen. It was hard to see her face past the hills of breasts and large pillow of fur between them.
“Hello, I’m the new hire.”
“You??? But the last guy was, like-”
“Half a meter tall in a waistcoat? I just met him. I guess there’s a lot of variety in Easter bunnies. Anyway, I’m here to ask for a performance review.”
“What?”
“It’s my first day and I, uh, need your opinion on if I did a good job. Are there enough eggs? Did I put them in good spots? Do you- ah- want more?” Her voice wavers as her body churns. “I can make more.”
The mayor is silent for a moment, just looking her up and down as she grows uncomfortable from the silence and pressure inside her. “You did a perfect job.”
The bunny lights up, hopping in place and shaking the floor every time she lands. “Really! Oh thank you! I’m so glad!” She gets scooped up into a plush hug that smells like marshmallows. “I’m so glad I did it justice!”
“Yes- thank- you- please- stop-” She said muffled by fur and shaken by the constant excited hopping.
“Oh, sorry!” The massive rabbit releases her gently and she does her best to wipe the rabbit fur off her suit. “Alright! Well, I have to go, there’s some hunts a few timezones over that need setting up. Goodbye Ms. Mayor!” She thumps against the ground for a moment and a wide hole opens up. With a wave, she jumps inside and it closes behind her.
The mayor looks back out at everyone enjoying the hunt.
It's shameful, isn't it? The need you have burning inside your chest, the aching void that cries out, that screams and pleads and begs to be bigger. You can feel it when you look at your own chest and when you scroll through endless pictures of women with full, soft, heavy breasts that make your mind burn with envy. It's shameful to want something like that, to be so obsessed with size and growing and your own greed that even a glimpse of cleavage makes arousal burn inside your core.
But if it's forced, it's not your fault, is it?
No, no; how could it be? You're struggling against your restraints, begging your captor to do anything but inject you with more growth serum. You can cry and scream and fight because you know there's nothing you can do to stop it. You get to pretend like you don't want it even though your heart pulses arousal through every inch of your body when you imagine being bustier. There can't be any shame, any guilt, then, if it's being forced upon you. You get to hide in that safe shell of denial and still reap the benefits of feeling your breasts swell and grow, pulling heavily on your chest and spreading out as gravity wins out over their immense softness.
I won't let you hide.
I won't let you deny it.
I know, deep down, it'll feel even better to admit it. That shame, that guilt, will only heighten your pleasure more.
So I want you to admit it.
Say it out loud.
Just five little words.
"I want to be bigger."
You can massage your chest while you scream loud enough for your roommate to hear it.
"I want to be bigger!"
You can stand in front of the mirror, look at your chest, and say it proudly and confidently.
"I want to be bigger."
You can pull the covers over your head, barely illuminated by the light of your phone, while you whisper it.
"I want to be bigger."
Regardless of how you say it, admitting it is so vitally important. I want you to feel your lips as they form the shapes of each word.
"I want to be bigger."
I want you to feel the vibrations in your chest and in your throat, however subtle, as you breathe life into the words.
"I want to be bigger."
Maybe you've never said it before. Maybe you're worried that it'd be too greedy, that you're denying how lucky it is to be as busty as you are and yet still eager for me. Maybe you're worried about what people would think of you, watching you bounce and jiggle no matter how modestly you dress. Maybe you think that the size you want is perverse and obscene and that anyone who looks at you would instantly see you as a degenerate, even without knowing how badly you wanted it and how desperate you are to become even bigger.
It's okay to think those things and have those worries.
Feel the shame.
Feel the guilt.
But say it anyway.
It's okay.
Take a deep breath.
Close your eyes.
And listen to yourself say the words.
"I want to be bigger."
"I want to be bigger."
"I need to be bigger."
Feel the shame creeping hot into your cheeks, the guilt squeezing your chest, and say it.
"I need to be bigger."
Doesn't that feel good?
"I need to be bigger."
It feels so good to admit what you want, what you need, what you are.
"I need to be bigger."
There's nothing new.
"I need to be bigger."
Nothing has changed.
"I need to be bigger."
You're still you.
"I need to be bigger."
You're just admitting, finally, what you tried to hide for so long.
A friend and housemate is, once again, in need of his mothers attention after a long and snowy day. His mother being his friend, i.e. you. The only thing to do is convert his mind into milk and care for your sweet little boy for the day. Try not to go mad with maternal feelings… again.
Contains: Mom-kink play, mind draining, friends with benefits, reader POV, female reader, humanXfurry, lactation, breast feeding, weight gain, breast expansion, breeding, fXm.
Word count: ~2300
—---
You take a sip from your coco and flip to the next page. The book was middling, in a few months you’d struggle to recall most details outside of the plot synopsis. Shame, the base sci-fi desperate drug smuggling family idea sounded like it had legs. Maybe if it had a writer that didn’t repeat the same three descriptors ad nauseam you wouldn’t be grimacing. Plus his descriptions of a “large” chest on the female lead were embarrassing. You dwarfed her D cups, she isn’t special.
The front door opened, a harsh and icy wind blowing through it and into the living room. You bristle at it from inside your large sweater. “Fucking hell, this cold will not stop.”
“Tell me about it, cuz I can tell you!” Your housemate said as he slammed the door behind him. He entered the living room covered in a layer of snow, face obscured by two scarves and body padded with four layers to keep the cold from killing him. Still, he shivered. The downside of opting to have cold blood when you become a lizard person. He discarded the layers in a frenzy, throwing it every which way. You finish off your drink and watch in amusement.
“Did you run out of heating packs?”
“No! I have six of them! It’s just so fucking cold and snowing like mad! Half a meter! Half a meter of snow just today! Fucking stupid ass snow- I should have- I gotta move to a hotter place!”
“You say that every winter, but why don’t you?”
“I. Like. My. Job. We have a game coming up that’ll change the scene.” You chuckled at that without meaning to. He said that the last four times. Hasn’t happened yet. “What’s funny?!”
“I’m sorry, that was rude.” You rise from the sofa. “Can I get you some coco? I have dark chocolate, your favorite.”
His tail swishes. “Fine. Fucking…” He followed you into the kitchen, standing by in just a graphic tee and boxers. “I love the job, I do.”
“But?”
“BUT! I cannot STAND Richard, oh that smug prick is going to ruin this shit. I thought his fishing minigame shit was a joke, he suggested one for the last three games, but no! He had a whole mess of slides- which sucked ass -about how it could tie into a crafting system and a whole fucking.” He was talking near a scream and shouting with his hands as you calmly prepared an extra large cup of coco. “The game is a run and gun, you’re supposed to go fast, you’re supposed to speedrun. A fucking fishing minigame to do some dumb crafting to make fucking potions to make the game easier- we have easy mode! We have it in the settings! Is he dumb?”
You pour the drink and retrieve the classic toppings, marshmallows, whipped cream. “You want some shaved chocolate?”
“No, caramel.” He calmed for a moment.
“You got it, dear.” You gave it extra of everything and slid the drink along the counter. It looked picture worthy. Pat grabbed it and downed half in moments, gasping as he let a small burp out. “Thirsty?” You said as a leading question.
“C-Cold. It’s fucking hell out there, ninth circle.” He took a more conservative sip, returning to his hackles. “Shit day. Programs crashed, bugs won’t die, someone fiddled with the server following a ‘Tube video to try to make the system faster. Fucked everything for half an hour, of course.”
“Awful. Just awful. Do you need cuddles?”
“Yes!” He hissed. Rude. You let it slide as you lead him back to the sofa. You sit next to each other and wrap an arm around him, your other hand petting his thigh. His scales always felt so nice. He quietly drank and stared out the window at the snow raging outside. “It looks so nice when it’s not freezing me.”
“Sorry about the day. I should’ve had you bring more heating packs.”
“No, you’re fine. You’re… wonderful.” His voice was so weak. Your chest began to ache.
“How sweet.” You planted a kiss on his head. He nestled into you, staring off as he finished off the last of the coco over the course of a few minutes. You felt his body warm from your embrace. He shifts, lying down and placing his head on your lap, right below your chest. A spark went off in your head, but you had restraint. He’d open the door if he wanted too. You rest a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall as his breathing calmed, and the other petting his head to sooth him. “Precious.”
“Mom?” There it was. The signal. You had been hoping, always hoping, always waiting for him to allow you to care for him. With that the spark in you ran free, he opened the door for it, the nurturing urge unchained.
“Yes, my baby?” Your voice was deeper, sultry now.
“Can, I… go blank. Just, drink and…”
You smiled the way only a mother seeing their kid being adorable can. “Of course, honey. Any time.” You pulled your sweater up, breasts flopping free against your chest and partially covering him. So nice to air the girls out. They were already beading milk. His eyes looked so greedy as he put a puffy nipple against his mouth and began to drink. You let a long moan out, growing wet in your pants. The lightning-like bliss shooting from your sensitive teats and into the churning furnace of your lust addled mind.
You felt it, one of your favorite feelings, the sensation of his thoughts and troubles leaking from his mind into your breasts. Every worry swells them that bit bigger, turning into milk for your special boy. He was so wonderful, his sharp teeth nibbling gently as his soft scaled lips suckle on you. You loved this, needed this, needed to provide for your friend who doubled as your son. Who you claimed as your son.
His eyes dulled, drinking became faster, more fervent, trying to quell endless thirst. Mind drowning in milk as your chest swelled more and more, filling your lap and covering his torso. Your free breast, which was now more like an udder, spraying milk like a small fountain onto the floor. You glance over and shudder involuntarily. He had a raging hard on. He always had one while in your care. You loved him so much. Platonically, somehow. A friend-son with benefits was better than a relationship.
Your head is pounding. Your mouth is dry.
He’s perfect. A perfect boy. An obedient boy that empties his brain and lets you care for him.
“Honey?” He gave a muffled acknowledgement, not slowing for a second. “Can mommy play with your dick?” He nodded, eyes lighting up with lust as he stared into your eyes. Precious. He was precious. “He needs to be pampered and have no worries” was the only wholesome thought you could manage. The rest were waxing ever more lustful.
You pull his boxers down, his dick springing free, already slick with precum. You make quiet moans as you stroke it, wedging a hand under your chest and down your pants as you finger yourself while pleasuring him. He whimpered and pressed into your teat, gulping as much as he could as he forgets every worry he ever had, most of his mind melting along with it. Down through his mouth and into you, swelling out the rest of your body. You were growing more curvaceous, more motherly, your mom jeans straining against your thickening body.
He whimpers, hips bucking and body clenching as he cums. He makes the most beautiful noises when he cums. Small little squeaks and moans. Your mind is on fire. The little spurts he makes are so wonderful yet so… small.
More. More. More. You might be more far gone than he is. Pumping him like mad as he sprays thick ropes, arching up and onto your chest. His hand grips your tit and squeezes hard, eyes rolling back as the only thought left in his head was being good for you. You cum as you shove four fingers inside yourself, moaning loudly and having it turn into satisfied laughter.
More. Not enough. He was too precious. “Dear, you're so good for mother.” He moaned in delight, cramming even more milk into his stomach. His stomach was beginning to swell taut against your chest. You lean down and plant half a dozen kisses on his head. “Can you be very good for me? Can you grow your cock bigger for your mother?” He nodded, breathing quickening. You felt his heart pounding through his chest and against the underside of your udders. Your breathing became deeper, lust compounding inside the both of you.
He grew, and grew, a thick vein pressing against your thumb as he grew for you in your grasp, balls filling the space between his legs as his dick grew to the length of your forearm, long and relatively thin. You pumped it like mad. “Cum, cum for me. Cum buckets for me! Drink me!” He almost choked as your tit began spraying down his throat, working overtime to treat him well. He makes moans of all types with a full mouth as thick rope after rope spray across your chest, some getting on your face. “Yes! Yes! Good boy!” You greedily lick up as much as you can, his cum sticky and sweet. Addicting.
Inside. Need him inside. He deserved it for being so perfect and adorable. So small. “Honey, dear, I need you. Mother needs you inside her. Now.” He stops drinking for a moment. Slowly, he releases your breast from his mouth, looking up at you with those beautiful emerald eyes of his.
“Okay. Good… for you.” He sounded so soft. Frail. Like a fabergé egg, but far more precious. He wiggles out from under you as you half tear your jeans apart to get them off as fast as you could. You kept the sweater, lifted up to your neck. It felt motherly. He gets in front of you, at arms length just to get his dicks head lined up with your dripping womanhood. He has to push your stomach and fat pad out of the way to get a clear angle.
“In, get- IN!” Your head whips back as he hilts you, milk spraying out like it came from a hose as you gain another three cup sizes. His body wedged between your engorged breasts that begged for the impossible task of being drained. He cums in one thrust as he whimpers for you.
“Good. I’m good.”
“You're so good. My good boy. MORE!” He leans back, squeezing your teats together so the nipples are close, taking both of them into his mouth. “Bite! Bite hard! Drain me!” He obeys, teeth sinking in, but not piercing. You scream out. “Bigger. Grow bigger, all of you BIGGER FOR ME!” His body plumps, fat piling onto his athletic frame. His dick swells bigger inside you, pounding the far side of your womb as it thickens, stretching you out. “BREED ME. BREED YOUR MOTHER!” His cock erupts, the two of you moaning loud as buckets of cum flood you, swelling your womb bigger, and bigger, not a drop allowed to escape as your body drinks him as greedily as he drinks you.
By the end you're distended, a tight red orb resting beneath your udders as cum finally begins to leak in bursts from your pussy. Your love, your boy, your good boy nestles into your chest, cooing without a care in the world. “I love you, mommy.” He says without a thought in his calmed and emptied mind.
You can’t help but shower praise to him, planting kiss after kiss onto every part of him, holding his head against your breast as you pet him. You glance at the boulder of a womb now on you. Good thing you’re always on the pill. You look back at him, a drunk smile full of sharp teeth with glazed over eyes that stared into yours. Not a thought behind those beautiful eyes.
Just friends with benefits. A statement that was somehow not a lie. You loved your son, and he loved you, and outside of this, you were simply friends and housemates. But for now, you were his mom. “Don’t forget, you’ll have to get your thoughts back in time for bed.” He whined. “But not now. You can keep drinking from mommy.” He pawed at your chest and found his way back to your teat, suckling away as he slowly continued to fatten. A well fed precious thing, your growing boy. It’ll be fun to hear him try to explain why he’s suddenly over a hundred and fifty kilos again to his boss.
You retrieve the book you left off to the side, brushing off a small bit of milk from the cover.
“Her huge chest was pale in the moonlight. Exposed for him. It was half the size of his head, the biggest he’d ever seen.”
You rolled your eyes, a hand absent mindedly stroking his head.
A post I made on bluesky kept rolling around in my brain, so now it's here as a full blown story with hot pokemon babes. Enjoy!
Premise: In this world, women get bigger, more sensitive breasts whenever they’re aroused. Cynthia just can’t control her huge, needy chest erections around Lusamine.
Contains: Yuri, Breast Expansion, Alt Universe: Breasts work like erections, Girlcock, Lactation
Length: ~3100 words
- Bluesky (I’m here the most now!) | Patreon | AO3 -
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Nothing made Cynthia's breast clench like that smile.
God, what a dazzling, gleaming look! Every time Lusamine stepped into Cynthia’s presence, it felt like a goddess had descended to earth. That luxurious hair, that wonderful outfit, those heels, those fucking heels! Even just taking a step and hearing those loud clacks of her big, commanding shoes got Cynthia so hot and bothered, and her chest so restless.
Converging together in Alola was supposed to be a matter of business for the duo's two regions, not an exercise stewing in her own sin. Cynthia hoped her indecent feelings hadn’t grown too apparent. It was getting hard to keep it all in her bra.
Oh, but the sensation just felt like nothing else. Back before Cynthia realized she was a woman, things got all hard between her legs. Now that she'd grown to be a female fashion icon, it only made sense that the same sort of stiffness and need would shift to her breasts. It took some getting used to what women went through every day, those striking bouts of need, those impossible cravings, all while a giant billboard on your chest swelled out and told the entire fucking world you were horny. She'd gotten it under control, mostly. Lezzing out and going into a fugue state of arousal had grown more rare. The daily sessions gooning her tits out to pretty girls were now spotty relapses.
Then there was Lusamine. God, was there ever Lusamine.
Cynthia had to have grown at least three cups sizes since the start of this business trip. Looking at her face felt like staring into the sun, like the after images burned in her brain and imprinted into her mind lingering in her thoughts wherever she went. She couldn't be more tantalizing. And with a shared hotel room, there'd been precious little space to touch her girls and drain this need from her body.
Except, well, now, when that beautiful woman was out to the Alolan beach. The fervor kept burning in Cynthia. Even now she could imagine that darling body, and the things she'd do to it. Perhaps she could sneak something in quickly?
Cynthia's hands reached for her primary erogenous zone and-
The door thrust open. "What a crowded beach! I could barely get any sun with all the people in my way."
Both of Cynthia's hands leapt out of her bra and jolted to her lap, nudging a tiny tent in her pants, feigning innocence.
"Good morning. I didn't see you on your way out since you got up so earl-"
That talk about being on a beach didn't really click as a warning until Cynthia turned to Lusamine and saw her new outfit, or lack thereof.
Feminine perfection couldn't find a better home. Lusamine's rock solid looks and flawless skin sat on full display between the tiniest bikini Cynthia had seen. Everything was so perfect... And this was all on someone over 40!? Fuck, she rivaled Cynthia's best photoshoots and she had 15 years on her!
Cynthia looked on, finding it hard to summon words, so distracted she didn't even really notice her chest surging at this divine sight.
Keeping it professional should have been the goal. And yet, Cynthia couldn't resist.
"You look phenominal." She complimented.
Cynthia half expected an "I know!" from such a roaringly confident businesswoman. Cynthia would have loved that, that smirk of accomplishment, that little laugh showing her what a silly girl she was for thinking Lusamine would be anything but the cream of the crop.
She couldn't ever imagine the gift she'd be given instead. At her words, Lusamine blushed.
"Thank you!" She smiled, with softening eyes. "It... It takes a lot of maintenance to keep my body looking nice, so I'm glad it's paying off."
"Paying off? You own every bit of it!" Cynthia kept awash in it all. "You look like this and you've had two kids!?"
A little laugh from Lusamine. "I mean, yup! Turns out the human body can do a lot with a little bit of tinkering. Keeps me looking young, lets girls like us get knocked up and have kids if we want."
Hearing such nice lips utter the words "Knocked Up" sparked a fire Cynthia didn't know could burn in her. Her focus grew a little too intense, her body a little too excited, her breasts a little too full.
"Um… Cynthia? Your coat..."
Cynthia looked down to the sight of her breasts raging out of control, threatening to shred a button off her jacket.
"Oh... Oh my god! Oh my god, I'm so sorry! It's... It's not like that, really! It's just a little chilly in here with the AC up so high."
Cynthia's face roused full of blushes. Lusamine's grew a little heavier with them too. The gentle creaking noise of expanding flesh found a home now in not just Cynthia.
"I mean, it's okay. Girls just get urges sometimes. I understand if you saw some sort of hot guy out there or something. Better to keep it here than ripping your bikini open on the beach."
Don't say that. The last thing Cynthia needed now were images of Lusamine getting so horny her bikini failed in public.
"I appreciate your understanding. It's pretty embarrassing. I guess the work related stress is causing me-"
"Was he cute?" Interrupted Lusamine.
"What?"
"What sort of guy did you see that got you this frazzled?" Lusamine asked. "I mean, hey, you know, I get urges too. It's a little informal for business, but we might as well share info if there's fun to be had at this resort."
How could Cynthia ever tell Lusamine who was making her feel this way, when she sat right here?
The fabric on Lusamine's bathing suit around her nipples had grown direly strained.
"Well, I mean, as it turns out, I'm actually not that into guys." Cynthia admitted.
"Really now?"
"Yeah. Like, I like men in theory, but most of them aren't my type. Now, women..."
Lusamine rubbed her chin at the word woman, hoping to distract from just how tense and full her exposed breasts were getting.
"Ah, well, I can see the appeal. Some women are just... Dazzling."
"Yeah, for sure."
"Like, I've had a husband, obviously, but he's long gone for now. I find now that as I'm older, my tastes are shifting to other women too, honestly." Lusamine professed.
The button on Cynthia's coat struggled for its life. "Really?"
"Yes, I just... There's some sort of appeal. Girls seem to like me too, if you can believe it."
Boy, could Cynthia ever.
"It's like, some women, some very nice, cute, wonderful women, just seem to lose their mind when I tell them my age."
"Really?"
"Mhm. It's just... Nothing seems to get a generation of lesbians going like just outright saying... 'Hey there! You look really cute. By the way, I'm old enough to be your mom’-"
Hearing that, Cynthia's button snapped, and her desperate, heaving chest filled every inch of the front of her coat, leaking out piles of tits from the top.
Cynthia calmly looked down, then looked back to Lusamine. She stared, face agasp, completely consumed by the sight of Cynthia's giant tits. Lusamine’s own pair wobbled needily in that desperate little bathing suit.
“I-I’m sorry, I-”
No need for apologies. Lusamine didn’t need those right now. All she wanted, clear as day from her blushing face and her tented crotch and her fat fucking mom tits growing bigger every second, was obvious.
Cynthia gave it her best try to set those heavy udders free.
"Well, if you want to be a naughty girl, I guess we can start kissing, mommy."
Lusamine's overstuffed tits completely popped out of her bathing suit.
Cynthia rose from her seat, and kissed the woman. Her passion was traded with twice the fervor, hands rapping around at her back, pulling her coat away, absolutely craving to feel this darling Sinnoh beauty, her Cynthia!
The kissing turned loud, and grunty, and needy, and the duo's hands shot all over to pull away anything in their way. Down went Cynthia's shirt, her nice pants, everything but heels, panties, and suit bottoms came off as they undressed with haste, right in front of their oceanside window. This entire retreat sharing a hotel room with the most beautiful women the other had ever seen finally blew both of their needs
It only finally ended once it got a little too hard to keep kissing standing up with all the sudden extra matter in the way.
"Oh my god, I'm a fucking cow!"
Cynthia gripped her tits, the biggest and heaviest and neediest they'd ever been, even throughout her most private sessions. They'd cracked well past anything reasonable for any of her clothes to maintain.
"Oh, yup, I'm right there with you sweetie. I don't think they got this big even when I was getting knocked up."
Hearing Lusamine call her "sweetie" made another crackle of growth sing out, and her pair get even bigger.
Lusamine continued. "I haven't touched boobs with another girl like that in so long. I forgot how good it feels... You know, it's the funniest thing. I still kind of slip into stroking my dick when I'm horny, but it feels way better to just get so aroused and just grope my boobs."
Cynthia nodded. "Yeah I... I kinda slip into that too some times. Like, I'm throbbing right now, but I've got three body parts that need touch and two hands. I know both of them aren't going south.
Cynthia's fingers played with her breasts more deliberately by the second. Fingers touched and prodded, groping immense expanses of touch receptor-packed flesh at the ends of her breasts on those titanic aerolas. Arousal bloomed them even bigger, fresh cells packed to send good feelings to her brain even springing forth as her need crescendoed into the biggest tit erection of her life. Her grip turned focused as she found the optimal breast-masturbating hold; an underhand cup with her fingers sinking into the pink of her tits, and her middle digit flicking at her terribly rigid nipples.
Lusamine's technique proved mostly identical, storied from an extra decade and a half pleasing her body. Her hands were far more aggressive, her index and pointing finger rubbing deeper into the most sensitive bits. Her middle didn't just flick, it explored, and sunk into the enormous expanse of horny tit meat to play with her messy, inverted nipples.
With time, however, both women weren't satisfied with just masturbating.
Cynthia cut through it all. "So, I take it you want to..."
"Yes. Absolutely. I haven't had paizural sex with another woman in ages."
"And I presume you want to be-"
"The top. yes. Lie down on the bed, sweetie, and let your mommy show you how good your body feels."
Fuck. Fuck! Oh my god, being commanded like that!?
"O-okay Mommy!" Cynthia spat out.
She didn't care if that sounded embarrassing right now, any way of showing obedience got her horny as hell! The worry went completely unfounded, as the declaration got a heavy breath out of the older woman, and a nice, rewarding smack on the ass for her good girl for following instructions. Even walking proved a challenge now. Cynthia didn't have much experience with an extra god knows how much wiggling from her chest.
Down she tossed onto the bed, Lusamine soon walking up herself, giving an impossibly good show to her little princess with that same unreal bounce and heft to her fully erect chest. Cynthia couldn't take this. She was already lactating.
Down onto the bed Lusamine descended, hovering over Cynthia, face to face. Both of them were hard out of their mind, erections tenting Lusamine's tiny swimsuit and a wet little tent on Cynthia's underwear. She loomed over the other woman, aligning their big, taut, overpacked breasts as best they could.
"I-I've never touched boobs with another woman before..." Cynthia admitted. "I've only jacked my nipples off watching it."
"I'm taking your boob virginity too? Oh my god, shut up. You're too perfect. I'm going to go insane."
Lusamine lowered herself down carefully, and the duo's breasts touched!
"O-oh my god!"
"Ooh... Oh goodness..."
Cynthia's face twisted and Lusamine's focused as their chest-on-chest contact began. Fingers were great and all, but something unreal came from feeling another soft, warm, tender breast pressed against those raging nipples. The heaps of girlhood gently caressed every bit of the other as they softly kissed nipples together. A little more milk left Cynthia's pair. It hid Lusamine's first drops.
What unreal stimulation. Already this tender touch and Cynthia felt as stimulated as those times she'd experimented with anal. God, this was a thunderbolt of stimulus she thought could only be reserved for mashing her prostate, but it sung now so loud just from this bit of rubbing! Having sex with her breasts outclassed any other form of stimulation!
This was all from the faintest tap. Now, Cynthia lowered deeper into her lover.
"H-hahaa.... AAaaah..." Cynthia groaned.
"Good girl." Breathed Lusamine through gnashing teeth. "Nnngh... You're such a good girl..."
The duo's breasts surged larger every second.
Down came Lusamine's body weight, making the pressure even more intense. The light touch of nipple kissing turned to full on needy contact. Their huge areolas pressed together, the little uneven bumps across their surfaces stimulating everything to the touch. God, what a vivid kiss! Even exploring each other's mouths didn't feel as detailed as their nipples groping! They danced so close, Cynthia's virgin pink dots so eager to taste Lusamine's fertile veteran inverted feeders.
Even just from this little press, the two were dizzy with need. Stupid things started falling from their lips.
"I-I masturbate to this all the time." Cynthia admitted. "I-I go crazy when I see women with big boobs touching. I saw it once and I knew I needed fat sensitive slut tits to press against another woman."
Lusamine's breath grew a little stuttered at the confession. "You're admitting you've been a bad girl to mommy then, right?"
"M-mhm!" Cynthia nodded. "I-I'm sorry I got this naughty, mommy!"
"Such a bad girl. Such a bad fucking girl." Lusamine breathed. "Oh, I can't believe you followed your mother's footsteps so perfectly. You're going to be just as big a horny cow as HER!"
PLAP!
Lusamine put her full weight on Cynthia, and smashed her enormous, growing breasts right against hers!
"Ha-haaaAA!" Cynthia yelped!
Her body went on auto-pilot, completely adrift on these sweet sensations. Her mouth gaped moans her throat couldn't will out. Her heart raced as those colossal piles of meat pancaked against hers. Her legs locked around Lusamine's hips, determined to have her breasts pressed as deep as possible into this horny sow's sweet boobs!
The facade started to drop from Lusamine too. That cruel maternal rage turned into hearty grunts, losing everything as too many feel-goods shot from her boobs to her brain.
“I-I’m sorry mommy. I-I’m such a… S-such a…”
“COW!” Lusamien grunted through her teeth! “BIG SLUTTY STUPID COW!”
They panted wildly, building up towards something, almost in sync, Lusmine grinding her udders mercilessly into this needy pile of bitchmeat!
"A-AAH! AAAAH!" Cynthia thundered!
Lusamine winced, then groaned like a beast in heat as the moment hit her too!
Breast orgasm was here! They couldn't stop titjaculating!
That steady simmer of expanding flesh grew loud and clear as the heat built inside them. Moment by moment, staring face to face, more smashed boob matter ballooned out from between their chests, filling their gaze, both of their chests growing colossal in complete abandonment of any decency. It didn't matter how big they got now. Their tits were orgasming! They needed to feel it, now!
Confused neural pathways made their bodies rock around as full-on breast-orgasm throttled them. Their hips gave tiny humps, bodies trying to make sense of an orgasm ejaculation could never rightfully encapsulate. Panties and swimsuit touched, both with semi-erect tents, both wet on their tips as neither realized they were spilling sperm. Titjaculation demanded every inch of their pleasure centers. Simply cumming didn't deserve the room.
So much matter packed their obscene chests as they grew and flushed with veins powering their expansion. Cynthia's orgasmic expression winced. Moments later, a hiss erupted from the precision little open space between the duo's boobs. The sheer fervor made Cynthia lose control, and for milk to come spilling out of her needy nipples. God, how embarrassing. It was bad enough when she milked the bed in her sleep, but to do it right in front of the hottest woman she'd ever met!?
All that worry went away as Lusamine's expression twisted too, and went all dumb and relaxed, with a lulled tongue heavy with drool. The flow of liquid tripled as Lusamine's giant udders flooded with her own payload. A shiver of pleasure and their breasts finally broke apart, raining her white payload all over Cynthia's body, and the bed.
Lusamine pressed back down hard, craving more. Cynthia nearly screamed as her ungodly sensitive nipples felt that impact, and a second wind to her orgasm squirted in a turbulent flow out her giant tits.
The space between orgasm and a post coital high blurred. Both of them smoldered for a long while, pressing their enormous shelves against each other, simmering in a dumb orgasmic heat. A full breast orgasm didn't lead to a simple post-coital slump, no. They kept smashing against each other, lost in their heat, lost in the other's eyes, until Lusamine finally lost all her strength, and rolled off.
Cyntha couldn't see past them now. Stacked to insanity didn't begin to describe their situation. All that lust had powered their chests into breast erections unlike anything the duo had ever seen. How would she ever put on her coat again? Until these things deflated, everyone could see what a horny sow she was for being touched...
Ah, that was far too hot an idea…
Cynthia went straight back to playing with herself. Both hands shot back to her breasts, to keep toying with her nipples, each packed with enough nerve endings now to outclass any clit twice over. Cynthia took it one step forward as her breasts reached their new size, flat out shoving her pinky in both and sodomizing her nipples until she found the strength to press boobs together again.
Cynthia threw all social concerns aside and just focused on getting bigger. To think how good they'd feel after their little break, with their tits expanded even more...
this is a bit specific but the way having big prominent tits makes doing things in every day life just a little more difficult is so hot. the constant inconvenience of them and knowing that you let your desires override reason
That's, like, half the reason to have them!
Yes, of course, boobs that big are heavy. They fill out a shirt and overflow pretty much any bra you try to force them into, no matter how well-fitted it's meant to be. They're big and round and no one can keep themselves from stealing a glance; those with particularly weak wills openly gawk at their sheer size.
But it's the little inconveniences that really remind you how big you really are.
The true excitement lies in moments when you look at a narrow doorway and you feel a cold chill, wondering if you'll fit.
The same thrill crops up when you slide into your car and jump as the horn blares, the sheer enormity of your tits pressing on the steering wheel.
There's a sense of pride in walking into a bra shop and knowing that nothing they sell, not even anything they can order, can fit your breasts, but there's a sense of dread that comes with it, too, knowing that your options for how to cover and contain them are dwindling away.
Every time your gargantuan tits brush against someone or something, muttering a quick, embarrassed apology, you're reminded not only just how big you are, but that you wanted this. You wanted to be huge and now you are and now you have to deal with the consequences. When people struggle to take you seriously or even just maintain eye contact, that's because you were too greedy and couldn't stop yourself. When you spill something and feel it splatter all over your tits, you know it's because your desire to be bigger put them permanently in the way. When you crawl into bed after a long day, back aching from lugging around your colossal boobs all day, you can feel them weigh down on you or take up half the bed in front of you, god forbid you even dream of laying on your stomach on top of them.
You did this to yourself. Your insatiable need to be bigger, endlessly bigger, made it so that, in million little ways, your life now revolves around navigating around your gigantic breasts.
But you know the worst part of it all?
It's not enough to stop you. If anything, the constant reminder of just how big you are and how far you've come only whets your appetite for more! If life with your huge fucking tits is inconvenient now, just wait until they're even bigger!
I have a particular taste for people so warm that they overheat in the snow. I do not know why. But thank you for providing this wonderful piece.
Also, Emma is rocking that sweater and I agree with Amber's idea completely. That looks so snug.
Caine did it. He listened.
He added sex.
This is a major step in making up for the Able debacle… Not even close to enough, but still good.
Well done with this piece. The was Jax is tied up is very nice.
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