Everyone's heard of "using a student as a demonstration in a reproductive bio" class. Now let's hear it for the professor who gets pregnant every year to use themself as a demonstration in a reproductive bio class.
Enough for people to cock their heads and start to wonder if her belly looks... different? Her tummy folds are starting to stretch at the center of her midsection. She looks a little more uncomfortable moving around, and-wait, is she waddling?
The only person who can really tell is her lover who put that baby in her. The only person who has permission to worship her tummy and feel her long enough to know where belly fat ends and baby bump begins. And when she's sprawled out on the bed they concieved their child in they lay down in bed the rest of their shape take form. It's undeniable that she's pregnant and has a lot further to go.
They need to make a pill or something that makes your tits swell up so fucking big and your pussy flushed and leaking nonstop and your clit sooo swollen and for like 2 hours at a time. Oh and there’s no refractory period or (unwanted) pain after prolonged hardcore stimulation. So you can just keep cumming and cumming and cumming from playing with your fat boobies. And then when you’re done it’s all back to normal!
When skinny gainers go from that small tiny frame to all of a sudden noticable pudgey belly that can’t be hidden 🤤🥰😈
When chubby gainers start to grow rounder hips and the belly hang turns you into the next state of feedism.. 👀🫨🫨
When they have turned into a super sized blob with no neck, jawline, thigh folds and back rolls with no hope of ever returning to their once smaller self 😍😜🐷🐷🐷
Got really hard over the thought of treating someone’s gut like a garbage disposal- I love stuffings that include lovingly made healthy food- but I’ve been more interested in becoming a machine that turns pounds and pounds of slop into calories.
Gorging on fried food, chips, bread, fatty meat, downing sodas and alcohol. Body forced to stretch out- but you can’t feel it now that you’re knee deep in an edible. Your brain barely registers pain, the throbbing heaviness in your middle just makes you feel hungrier. You can just feel the muscles in your abdomen spasm and give until they’re slack around all the food you’ve put inside. There’s just enough room to hear wet sloshing- thick sickly gurgles as your poor body struggles. Pushing out weak burp after weaker burp. You made a pressure cooker inside that gut and you won’t get relief until the morning.
Waking up after then only to realize you still haven’t digested it all in your sleep, so you’re sluggish and full of half digested slush. You feel it when you wake up- thick slurry of pure junk that your body barely knows what to do with. The bloated feeling doesn’t stop you from shoving more down your throat- more sugar, more alcohol, more fat- packing what little space you had until you’re back on the bed, aching. Keeping yourself always in a state of constant fullness, your belly locked in an uphill battle to hold all you force yourself to carry.
Will you ever relent? Or will you force it into submission?
the combination of aggressive hypersperm and an average fertile single egg must be wild, them fighting to squeeze themselves into you, racing to be the one to impregnate you, maybe you're not even ovulating so you have to just deal with them squirming in your womb for days before one catches your egg...
Ohhh it's a fav of mine. Love when the hyper sperm have to stay packed into your womb and distended middle till you do pop out an egg. Looking over bred already and movements like you're heavy with active brats already growing in your belly. Ovulating finally and you know when it happens too. Because all the hyper sperm simultaneously go into a frenzy in your belly. Belly thrashing shaking and swaying- multiple lumps moving and shifting over one poor egg that's being descended upon like a rabbit being thrown into a gater pit.
Ending up with multiples regardless because one hyper sperm can easily impregnate someone gravid. And maybe more than one hypersperm manages to knock you up and you'll get even more brats in you. Or maybe you'll get a real heavy singlet- who knows? Not like you will when you're cumming ridiculously hard at the abuse of your one egg. Hyper sperm are all so aggressively enthusiastic after all...
Hope you enjoy an overactive belly because they aren't gonna stop squirming and thrashing for a while. Even if you cant get more pregnant 😋
ever noticed how a big hyper sperm and a bullet vibrator kinda have a similiar shape? no? no worries! you should definitely try out this new toy i got you. i know you got this thing with the eggs where you're like super likely to get pregnant a bunch of times so you don't want to have sex right now but toys are safe right? just try it out! i know it's really big but just put it to your cunt i'm sure it'll just slip right in :)
"Oh, okay! It's a sperm shaped toy? That's pretty funny actually." I turn the palm sized round squishy toy in my hand. The toy is slimy and smooth, almost like ovi toy eggs. "It's like a plug?" I curl the limp tail around my pointer and give it a light pull. The bulbous thing hanging from my grip. That's when i notice it's pretty weighty, actually. "Oh yes? Cool so just feel it slide inside my man cunt. That sounds good actually." I've been craving a creampie in my cunt for the last day or so but I know I'm hyper fertile. I wouldn't get pregnant with one baby- no, even just one sperm hitting an egg would guarantee me at least quads. I can't be a dad right now- let alone a broodfather. Who knows what would happen if I ever had an actual hypersperm impregnate me.
"So let me just-" I pull the waist band of my basketball shorts away along with my briefs. Before casually pushing the toy up against my cunt-
And as soon as I do the thing starts moving.
"Huh?!- oh- Oh it's a moving one? Christ, tell me that beforehand!" I relax again and as soon as I guide the fat toy up against my actual hole it pushes forward. I grunt when my holes forced open by the thick intruder. The squishyness of the thing let's it slip through without spending me too wide open. I hum when it starts squirming inside my cunt. Sliding deeper and deeper- I let my waistband return and just focus on the feeling. Letting it settle- but the toy was an active one. It almost feels like it's throbbing almost-
It suddenly squirms faster- traveling deeper and deeper- right when I start to get concerned about how deep it's slide the fat tip of it kisses my cervix. I jolt and try to shove my hand back into my briefs to find the tail end of it to pull it out-
But the hypersperm forces itself through my cervix quicker. Now hyper aggressive now that it knows it's got something to impregnate and it's got to do that now. I grunt and curse when the fat thing squirms in my womb now- my palm resting over my stomach as it moves and throbs-
I nearly shout a groan as my other hand slaps over my mouth when I'm abruptly cumming outrageously hard when the hypersperm finds its target. Defenseless hyper virtle egg darted into by the unrelenting monster sperm. Instantly impregnated upon contact and only getting more pregnant as the seconds go by. The cells slowly- dividing higher and higher. I don't know it but I go from pregnant with quads to pregnant with octuplets in a matter of moments. All I know is I'm cumming my brains out the hardest I ever have to the point legs go out from under me and I land on the floor on my knees.
My chest burns- my tits turning into heaving M cups by the time my orgasm stops. My shirt an ill fitting crop top that's now steadily becoming soaking wet with breast milk that's freely spilling out of my engorged and now thickened nipples. Body forcing a rapid transformation because it knows I'm pregnant and I'm pregnant with a fucking litter just like that.
Shaking and panting while my mind was still reeling from the intense hyper impregnation orgasm that I couldn't even comprehend that you just turned me into a full-time broodfather for who knows how many babies 💕
Max and Cherry are very happily married, but all they want is a family. They've tried everything and nothing is sticking. Maybe these sketchy pills from this online site will help?
Cherry sat in silence while the test processed on the counter beside her, face down. Max loitered aimlessly by the door. The tension in the bathroom was as thick as gelatin. She watched the timer on her phone count down one second at a time, the milliseconds whirring by in a flurry of inscrutable numbers. She could hear her heart in her ears. Her blood pressure felt high.
This isn’t good for the baby, she thought.
Sweat rose up along her hairline. Her legs were falling asleep from sitting on the toilet for so long.
If there is a baby.
The digits on the screen began their descent from five and anxiety spiked in her chest. A dark pessimism loomed over her shoulder. Disappointment seemed inevitable. Four, three, two…
The alarm’s synthetic melody trilled for about two notes before Cherry silenced it with a tap. Her husband stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. Though his expression was neutral, the muscles in his jaw flexed under the skin, tense as stones. Cherry put her hand on the slim, plastic test strip, holding it for a moment before slowly flipping it over. She looked at it, her mouth a thin, flat line.
“It’s negative,” she said. Despite her efforts, her voice wavered. Her chin began to crumple under her trembling lips.
Max sighed, long and low, through his nostrils. Wordlessly, he lowered down beside his wife, hand on her naked thigh.
“We’ll try again,” he told her.
Her hand came up to her eyes, her face turning away, as though to hide her expression from him. A jagged inhale sucked in through her nose, shoulders bouncing, the soft but unmistakable sound of her crying shushing in the lonely room.
A year past, and then another. Months on the calendar flipped by, each one punctuated with the cursed knowledge that there was no child on the way. Max and Cherry spent their five-year anniversary together, their childlessness looming in the atmosphere.
It was neither of their faults. These things just happened; or they never happened, as it were.
Cherry tried herbal supplements, yoga, and eating yams; Max started working out and seeing a therapist. Their friends had two, even three kids, back to back, on purpose and by accident. When one of her old coworkers announced on Instagram that she was pregnant with twins, Cherry deactivated her account, deleted the app from her phone, and cried into a pillow.
The standard means of improving fertility were, literally, fruitless. Out of desperation, she ordered a bottle of extremely dubious supplements from a shoddily-translated foreign website, but by the time they arrived at her door she’d mostly given up on the entire dream. Max stopped mentioning it, too, mostly out of concern for his wife’s mental state.
Receive one tablet per day for vitality, the bottle boasted, the ink smearing on the label beneath her fingers. Kindly do not exceed two tablets.
Cherry poured some into her palm, the sawdust smell pf the capsules wafting up to her, and swallowed them down, not bothering to count them.
As the weeks wore on, Cherry continued to take her regiment of supplements despite having about as much faith in them as a palm reader. She needed something to put her faith in so that she didn’t lose her mind from grief. When she began to experience an uncomfortable bloating in her abdomen it didn’t particularly shock her given there was no way to tell what was actually in any of the admittedly woo pills she was taking. Still, there was a sensation she had never experienced before: low in her pelvis, she felt almost a churning sensation, like her uterus was creaking and cramping. Pressure was building, her lower belly pushing out against the waistband of her jeans. She decided to stop taking the supplements entirely. The idea of adverse reactions was finally getting to her.
The bloating did not stop, and neither did the cramping; in fact, they got worse. Turning to the side in the mirror, Cherry examined her silhouette, tracing her fingers down her torso and furrowing her brow at the visibly outward curve that was emerging there. From her navel downward it looked as though she was smuggling an orange under her skin. The button of her pants strained to close over it, the flesh sinking down beneath the crush of the material.
“Max,” she called to her husband, lifting up her shirt to look at the bump. “Do you think…?”
The slight roundness was perceptible to him as well. It could have just been wishful thinking. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“We should see,” he said.
So once again there they were, undergoing the same painful ritual that they had so many times before. While waiting for the test to process Cherry touched the firm, outward shape of her belly. There was no way, she figured; even if she was, it could only have been a few weeks. She wouldn’t possibly be showing yet.
The timer wound down, cruelly ticking away the seconds until their inevitable disappointment. Five, four, three…
The couple were deadly silent, their unspoken prayers lingering in the air like incense.
The alarm went off. Cherry silenced it, then flipped over the test.
Her hand came to her mouth, a sob falling from her parted lips. She held the test out to him, turning it so he could see the symbol in the tiny window. It took only a moment for Max to realize his wife was crying tears of joy.
Positive. She was pregnant.
They should have known something was amiss simply based on how quickly Cherry was growing, but the couple was too distracted by their own joy and relief to notice-- initially, at least.
Max traced the shape of his wife’s belly, amazed at the fact that his child was inside her. She leaned up against him, teasing him with the firm press of her curved middle. Not that it would have been polite to point it out, but he noticed the size of her bust was increasing alongside the size of her belly. His wife had always been a very slender woman, the kind with the figure of a dancer. Based on his own admittedly uncertain estimation, she was likely only around seven week pregnant, but already her breasts were rounding out, her nipples darkening and thickening in preparation to feed their growing baby.
“You were meant for this,” he told her, kissing into her neck while they enjoyed the presence of her bump between them.
Smiling, she suggested, “I feel like I’m getting so big already...maybe it’s twins?”
The thought pleased him. His hips moved up against his wife’s, his hand moving to feel her belly. Admittedly, he hadn’t been sure how he would feel about how his wife’s body changing once she was pregnant, but now that it was happening he couldn’t be more excited to see her grow large with the seed he’s planted inside her. If it was twins, all the better.
Her hand slid, smooth as a snake, up the crotch of his pants. She palmed at the rigid bulge in his pants, lip caught between the flat press of her teeth.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Her voice was as smooth as velvet and dark as midnight. “Filled up with your twins. You just had to breed two into me, didn’t you?”
Max’s prick jumped into her hand, his jeans tenting into the cup of her palm. The directness of her words pierced him like an arrow, his breath hitching in his chest.
He nodded. “Uh huh.”
Cherry groped him, squeezing his cock. Her husband’s hips twitched into her grasp.
“Say it.” Her voice hissed like steam, hot and thin and sharp. “I want to hear you say it.”
His hand on the curve of her belly, he gasped, “I love filling you up with babies.”
She gave him a final squeeze, pain and pleasure spiking in his prick, before melting back into his embrace.
“I love you,” she said.
Hard as a diamond, he replied, “I love you, too.”
Cherry’s hips flared, the silken plush of her lovehandles overflowing the waistband of her pants. The baby-- or, babies; they had resoundingly accepted there must be more than one-- were pushing her belly through her fly, the button slipping open, the zipper sliding down the descending curve of her mound. Her thighs thickened, her bust swelled, tits meaty and dense as they overflowed the cups of her bra.
“I feel so womanly,” she said, circling her hands over her breasts, feeling the weight of them. Eleven weeks and she already looked like she was well into her second trimester, maybe the beginning of her third. She turned in the mirror, admiring the rolling landscape of her body, the pale stretch marks that rippled like lightning strikes over her hips and belly.
The pregnancy was awakening something in her, maybe nourishing something that had always been waiting to bloom.
She sat on her husband’s lap, her naked womb jutting towards his face. Reclined on their bed, he could feel how heavy she was becoming. From below her she looked as large and full as the moon, her nipples widening and darkening on her engorged breasts. She was like mother Gaia, full of the ocean, as big as the earth.
“Look what you did to me,” she cooed, taking his hands and guiding them to her womb. Her flaming red hair spilled like a waterfall over the front of her shoulders, blazing like liquid fire.
Her belly was firm beneath his palm, as round as a basketball.
“You’re gonna feed our babies, right?” she teased, thick hips rolling on his lap. The red bushel of pubic hair was obscured to his wife beneath her own belly. “Gonna make me big? I’m growing so fast because of you.”
His wife took his hands and slid them up to her breasts, the plump tissue squishing through the gaps in his fingers. She had to have gone up three cup sizes, and she was barely even pregnant.
“Yes,” he answered, entranced. An invisible cord was wrapped around him, compelling him. He belonged to her.
Cherry ground her naked sex against the thick rod of his underwear-clothed erection. Her head tilted back, brilliant hair falling behind her.
“Look what you did,” she repeated, dreamy. “Full of your babies.”
Full. She was so full.
His wife was not full of his twins. She was not even full of his triplets. His wife’s belly was teeming with five healthy, growing babies. She was like a goddess full of children.
Max had looked at her with fear once the number had been revealed, but to his surprise his wife’s expression showed no sign of fear at all. Instead she smiled at the monochrome images on the screen, her sweet face taking in the picture of all the babies curled up inside her. Her slender hand curled around his, squeezing. It was for his reassurance, not hers.
“I love you so much,” she said. It was then that he knew they could do it.
Five babies. His wife had to eat enough to feed five babies. The least he could do was feed her.
The quintuplets sent her belly distending in front of her, hips continuing to widen so that her tall but slender frame could make room for them. Max watched as his wife’s silhouette swerved with dramatic curves, her womb ballooning in front while the swell of her pelvis and breasts gave her an almost cartoonish hourglass figure. The more he fed her, the bigger she got, the bigger his babies grew. He could see her belly rippling with them, five strong children squirming in her middle and making her abdomen tremble with the bulges and swipes of their limbs.
“Rub lotion of me, sweetie,” she told him, the sweetness of her voicing only barely concealing the fact that it was a command.
With pleasure, he loaded his palm with thick, white cream, smearing it over the far end of her mound. By 20 weeks the quintuplets had stretched her womb to the point her navel was a dark smear on the end of her middle, thin, scraggly stretch marks radiating out from the flattened slash like ripples in a pond. There was no give to it, her womb so packed with his children that her flesh would not, could not, sink below his touch.
The lotion thinned to a translucent film on her skin, his wife humming in pleasure at the feeling of it. Inside her, the babies shifted languidly. With five of them all packed together they were piled on top of each other, their movements restricted by the sheer number of them cramped together. Instinctively, her thighs parted, her hands coming to cup the heavy underside of her belly.
“God, it feels so good when they move,” she purred, sinking deeply into the couch while her mound shook softly above her. “I love how full you’ve made me. I can’t wait for them to get bigger. The movement is going to be incredible.”
Max filled his hands with more lotion and applied it dutifully.
He answered, “I’ll make these babies as big as you want them. Just say the word.”
Opening one eye, Cherry looked at him and smirked.
“That’s a lot of food. You think you can handle it?”
Lowering his head, Max brought his lips to her belly. Even through the cool lotion, her skin was hot. It was stretching so intensely that it was burning.
“Anything for the six of you,” he said.
His wife ate day and night. The entirety of her body grew, fattening up before his eyes. She thickened until her backside was round and jiggling with cellulite, her cheeks bouncing with every wide, lumbering step she took. Her breasts engorged, the tissue multiplying, milk rushing into the glands, ballooning from grapefruits to soccer balls that sat perched high and round on the flat upper shelf of her belly.
“More,” she ordered him, continuing to eat through the resistance, her five large babies squishing up uncomfortably against her stomach. “More food, babe. I need...bigger babies.”
Fat thighs, as thick around as her pre-pregnancy waist used to be, tensed beneath her as she hoisted her hefty, baby-stuffed womb into the air. Six months, seven months-- the third trimester came rampaging in like an escaped rhino, stretch marks multiplying, ligaments aching, until the five babies she was packed with sent her belly out more than two feet in front of her. She tied her long, red hair into a loose bun on top of her hair, fine strands flowing down around her face. The green of her eyes was as brilliant as a star. The size of her had only made her more beautiful. She glowed silver and gold, celestial.
When she sat on his lap again, Max almost had the wind knocked out of him. He felt positively crushed beneath her. At 30 weeks pregnant with his large quintuplets-- the doctor had told them they were measuring in the 95th percentile, among the biggest quints ever recorded-- she looked and felt as large as the earth itself. The size of her middle in front of his face eclipsed his view of her expression, the only image before his eyes was the orb of her womb, its hypnotic swirl of stretch marks radiating out from her navel, and her two engorged breasts with nipples that stared down at him like unblinking eyes.
Cherry rolled her hips, her belly lunging towards him. Her breasts bounced, nipples circling. Max couldn’t help but moan. He felt controlled by her, enslaved by his love for her, enamored by his own confinement beneath her weight.
“Look what you did to me,” she ordered, rubbing over her own body, her belly so large she almost could not extend her arms around it.
He tried to put his hands under her, to lift her belly, but it was so heavy that he could not bear to hold it for more than a few seconds. It astounded him that she carried this all day, every day.
“You’re so big,” he panted, his voice breathy and weak. Before his very eyes he watched as his children roiled inside her, the entirety of her frontal mass changing shape as their quintuplets stretched and distorted her from the inside.
The two of them moaned in unison, enjoying the pregnancy they had created in tandem. Their hands come together on her belly, feeling the quintuplets as husband and wife. Milk rose in pearlescent beads on the end of her nipples and dripped onto the top plane of her belly.
Her eyelids fluttered, lashes trembling.
“Fill me,” she breathed. “Make me bigger. I want more.”
Using her powerful thighs, his wife lifted her hips to hover above his erect prick. She lined herself up with him and eased down, his length slipping into her inch by succulent inch. The fat cushions of her ass, each cheek like a halved basketball, bobbed against his legs.
“I want more,” she repeated, eyes closed as she rode the length of his cock, sliding up it, her massive belly rolling into her man’s face. A throaty, earthy moan oozed from her throat, several strands of her flaming hair coming loose from her bun.
“I’ll give you more,” he assured her, holding her thighs in place for stability. It barely felt like she needed him at all. He was the lucky observer of his goddess wife’s power and fertility.
The speed of her riding picked up, the slick clench of her pussy slurping up and down her husband’s rod. Her tits, so engorged with milk that they stood alert on her chest like spheres, smacked audibly against her ribcage and belly with each hearty bounce. She was working his cock, getting her pleasure from him on her own time, by her own power.
The pressure in her bust increased, the dribble of milk turning to a spray, each pump pushing out another gush of thick cream from her nipples. Her belly was so enormous that Max could barely reach around it, just barely managing to grope at her massive breasts. He could feel the milk trailing down his wrists, his arms, his vision impeded by the full moon of her middle.
She was bouncing so hard on him that it felt like his pelvis would crack. Barking grunts of pleasure escaped from her mouth.
“More…” she pleaded. “Bigger babies...MORE babies…! I want MORE!”
The thought of her swollen up, full term, with all five of his children-- no, six, seven, even eight of his babies, caused Max to spill over. His climax tackled him like a linebacker, filling his already massively pregnant wife with even more of his life-giving seed.
Cherry clenched around him, fluid squirting around the penetrating thickness of his cock. She clutched at her belly, the quintuplets roiling inside her, holding onto it as if afraid it was going to burst while she wailed through her orgasm.
Looking down at her belly, she watched the flurry of limbs distorting the surface of her mound, the already marked flesh bulging and sinking as her five babies struggled inside her.
“Look what you did,” she said.
“Look what we did,” he echoed.
In the final trimester, the food was constant, as was the movement from the babies. Cherry’s breasts were so painfully full of milk that Max dutifully lowered his head and drank from them, feeling around his wife’s mammoth belly while he drained her. Though she was mostly immobilized by the size she had grown to, that was not enough to stop her from getting what she wanted. It helped that Max was eager to please.
“More food?” he offered, looking down at his wife, her full-term belly a naked boulder on her lap. The babies had grown so large that its roundness had deformed in certain places, some corners longer than others, some flatter, some bulging with an awkwardly resting head or bottom.
Nodding, her chin brushing against the top curve of her breasts, she confirmed, “Of course, sweetie.”
The babies moved in her, anxious, the entirety of her tight orb wobbling ahead of her.
“Any day now,” she told him as she took the plate of food he offered. She attempted to set it on top of her belly but the jerking movement proved too unstable; Max knowingly took it and began to feed her himself.
With a free hand, he caressed her belly. Cherry chewed a hearty mouthful, then swallowed heavily.
With a pleasant chuckle, she smiled at him and said, “Look what you did to me.”
Max leaned in and kissed her.
“Look what we did,” he said.
FIN.
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How do I look in the mirror after being this stuffed and proceed to binge my biggest fast food order of the day 🥲 what is this fast food diet going to do to my body...
in public, just trying to get home as fast as i can, embarassed that my tits have swollen up soo huge, and they ache soo bad. my puffy pink nipples leaking and squirting milk everywhere and i can't do anything to make it stop >< god, everyone can see my boobs hanging out of my shirt and the growing wet spots soaking through.. and they hurt so much, im moaning, holding them. fuck, i need relief..
I want to be someone's hot mom. I want to wander into their hangout with their friends wearing nothing but a sports bra and offering snacks. And my daughter is incredibly embarassed because her friends are obviously staring me up and I'm just smiling so obliviously. They were supposed to hang out and do their nails but they're all just staring out the window and watching how I jiggle when I'm doing work on the garden. I could be Stacy's mom.
I'm putting on weight so fast and you can tell my body doesn't know what to do with all of the new fat I'm forcing onto it lmao... I LOVE when the fat deposits finally settle and my belly isn't sooooo textured and pumped with lard because it means it's time for me to up my calorie intake and make it look like this again! If you catch my belly looking this texture, you know it's because I just put on a good amount of new weight 😉
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