You've reached a checkpoint, now lift your shirt so I can inspect your belly.
almost home

oozey mess

ellievsbear
NASA
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wallacepolsom
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
RMH
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blake kathryn
Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document

#extradirty
$LAYYYTER

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we're not kids anymore.
noise dept.
Cosimo Galluzzi

⁂

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

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@kinkybakery
You've reached a checkpoint, now lift your shirt so I can inspect your belly.
be honest, would you let a big girl get on top?
this is honestly the cutest picture in the world omg 🥹🥹🫶🫶
literal goals
Tight shirts on obese bellies that show the indent of fatties bellybuttons and reveal a muffin top when you reach up is why life is worth living
I love how chubby I look in this dress 🥰
be a little possessive of me, i like it. be a little jealous. tell me how that feels. tell me what that makes you want to do.
A lot of content on being overwhelmed with pleasure as a monster breeds you.
But what if the monster was also overwhelmed with pleasure? Your body feels so indescribably good on its cock that it’s practically going insane. It wants more and more and more, ravaging your insides with desperate aggression. It can’t control itself anymore. Even if it tried to stop or slow down, its body wouldn’t obey it.
The monster does eventually get satisfied, leaving you ruined as it moves on. Most humans are meant to be used once, but something about you is different. Its cock is always hard now, constantly throbbing. And no matter what the monster does, nothing else and no other mate seems to relieve it. Its cock demands your presence. At some point, it can’t take it anymore. It races back to hunt you down again, whatever it takes. And when it finally catches you, it’s even more aggressive this time. Euphoric as it feels the hole it wanted so badly squeezing around its cock once again.
You’re more than just one use. You’re the only thing that can satisfy it. You’ll spend your days trapped on the monster’s cock, rarely taking it out if ever. For some of the day, it’ll grab you to fuck you again as if you’re just a personal toy. The rest of the time, you’re simply trapped there feeling it throb inside you, even while it sleeps
You groan and roll your head to the side. Moving your body is a lot harder, but you manage to do it.
The squirming doesn't stop. You slowly drag a hand up your naked body, letting it stop on the side of your swollen, pulsating middle. Something squirms into your hand, pushing it up. It almost hurts.
You wince as it moves towards your popped-out navel. Now it DOES hurt. The tightness of your skin paired with the strength of your child makes pain throb from where they push out against their carrier's womb. You groan out loud again, head tilting your head back, and pulling your knees up until your thighs hit your underbelly. There's a sharp kick against those too, and you suck your breath in.
You make a noise more akin to a gurgle than anything else as the limb digging into the thin flesh by your navel mercifully disappears, only for another to dig into your organs. Your lungs are squished, making you sharply and suddenly exhale. A growl of frustration this time. You'd be fine with them leaning on anything other than your lungs. Now you can barely breathe.
You wheeze into the dark of your bedroom as what you can only assume is a foot digs into your underbelly. There's a slight gurgle as it moves down towards your crotch, which you haven't seen in months now.
Luckily, that foot retracts soon, leaving your already abused bladder alone. You push thoughts of your poor bladder out of your mind quickly, as if just thinking about it will spawn the urge to start the ritual of waddling back to the bathroom again. All you get is a sharp kick almost directly to the navel. You wheeze.
You finally open your eyes, and in the almost-darkness, you look down to glare at the outline of your full-term swell. Usually, people tell you, activity slows down as you get closer to your due date and giving birth. You scowl. You hate to think about it, but all this squirming and kicking is probably an omen for going overdue. Great.
You moan in relief as the pressure on your lungs disappate. Finally, they let up. You move the hand on the side of your belly up to the top of it, just in front of your chest. Then, slowly, you move it slowly down the thick line bisecting your baby bump, invisible to you in the dark. Kicks and squirms follow your palm as it moves, many of which make you grunt or wheeze from the pain.
At least you know they're healthy in there...
When your hand reaches your crotch, you sigh. Despite all the discomfort and pain, there's a certain charm to being this fucking big. While your womb's occupant's near-constant movements can be a pain, you enjoy it. Sort of. In a roundabout kind of way.
You sigh again as you close your eyes. There's a gurgle from your tightly packed belly, and your eyes fly open soon after as a full body roll ripples through your womb. It leaves you panting, but after that...
Nothing. They've finally calmed down. For the moment, at least.
Some rest is in order. They like to move a lot when you try to sleep, so it's a rare thing for you nowadays. Closing your eyes yet again, you gently rub into your stretched flesh with your thumb.
After this is all over, you think you'll miss this.
Kinda.
Rapid monster preg that still takes the regular amount of time from fertilization to birth. The growth is explosive in the first day, your body swiftly growing from a normal size to a huge belly full of writhing babies and your swollen tits leaking milk. But they don’t immediately come out. Instead you have to spend 9 months so heavy with monsters that you can barely stand. And they never stop moving.
risky sex with breeding intent and then never taking a pregnancy test after. we rolling that belly growing roulette.
I just want someone to make me hurt myself for their entertainment. Tell me where to slap, where to pinch and twist. Tell me to do it again, harder, or you’re going to have to show me how to do it properly. Touch yourself to the way I whimper and cry for you, before you get too turned on to stop yourself from pushing me down and showing me how much worse you can hurt me.
Kinda sorta getting alarmingly obese 🙃
What does it feel like to carry all that weight around your middle? Bulging out in front of you, jiggling with every heavy step. Stretching shirts that used to be too big up and over your greedy belly button, exposing shiny stretch marks that tell the story of countless nights of complete overindulgence.
Every move must feel so much more deliberate and tiring, the weight of your big belly pulling you downward, a constant subtle pleading for you to plop down heavily on the couch, arch your back and let it hang round and bulging between your legs, pushing your thighs apart while you lie back start to fill your greedy little face, the rush of giving in once more quickening your breath and your bites.
It must feel even heavier then, after you've lost yourself in the haze of complete gluttony and then come back to yourself again, softly moaning and breathing heavily, with greasy crumbs and drops of ice cream dribbling down your swollen, massive gut, stuffed taut with thousands more excess calories.
Sometimes it must even feel a little alien, a shock to realize that all that the weight is really a part of you now. Not just a few extra pounds to hide away under a hoodie and tell yourself you'll lose later, but a huge, prominent gut to waddle around with every day, squeezing against your buttons, preceding you into every room and showing everyone how little self control you possess - how far (and round, and wide) you've let yourself go.
I'm sure it feels heavy then, a hundred excess pounds piled on to your poor, petite little frame. But it must be even heavier to know how much it all controls you. How much you're in thrall to the intoxication of stuffing yourself day after day, night after night. How much you crave the feeling of getting dressed and finding out that yet another pair of pants has become suddenly tight after weeks of telling yourself you were going to slow down. How little power you have to stop yourself. How much heavier you're going to get. Because it's all exactly what you want.
#sorry to come in hot
It feels so fucking heavy, and the heavier my body grows the better it feels to be greedy and sedentary, to give in to the weight of my own obesity. It was already too hard for me to resist stuffing myself fatter when I was thin; now I’m afraid it’s downright impossible. It’s like I’m lying cozy beneath a thick weighted blanket that I’ve eaten onto myself, and my muscles are too atrophied and smothered with fat to heave myself up from underneath it.
Tight shirts on obese bellies that show the indent of fatties bellybuttons and reveal a muffin top when you reach up is why life is worth living
haven’t been on here for months. genuinely thought you are pregnant. how is exercising treating you? has the feedee brain taken over? what i would give to take you to my gym and see you fail at exercising 🤤. as a fit girly, a gf who looks like you is my dream
well today I put on exercise clothes, got worked up about how fat I look in them, skipped the workout and just ate instead. If that answers your question.
do these shorts make me look fat? (say yes 😩)
god the cellulite on my thighs becoming more visible drives me crazy
"oh I ate too much" "I gotta unbutton my pants" "oof I overdid it" "my stomach feels so heavy" that is flirting you are flirting and you are a slut. smh