Mimegirl stream where she jerks off the air, but it causes everyone watching to cum. Progressively strokes seemingly larger dicks causing viewers, both male and female, to become larger and more potent themselves.
When you tuned into the stream, the mime girl was already stroking the air with a gloved hand.
When she leaned forward and opened her mouth, stroking faster you couldn't help but squirm in your seat.
She was staring right at the bottom of the frame. But it felt like she was staring directly at your cock — desperate for you to finish on her face.
And then you did.
Or rather, you creamed your own pants.
Her fingers tensed around the invisible rod as she winced her eyes. Invisibile ejaculate painting slapping onto her painted face.
She let go of the phantom rod, leaned back, and then began cleaning her face off and licking her glove "dry".
You peeled out of your sullied garments, kicking your pants and undergarments to the the far side of your room.
When you look back at the stream, you see the mime is freaking out. Absolutely tweaking.
She points down, toward the camera, her face in a shocked "o". Then she claps her hands together, silently, before incrementally increasing the distance between each gloved apendage.
One inch.
Two inches...
Three...
She keeps shifting her hands further apart until they're nearly a foot and a half away from each other.
She then places a hand to her abdomen, with a face that shifts toward curiosity.
She recreates the same distance, but vertically, from the height of her thigh gap, up.
She firmly shakes her head, rapidly increasing the distance to well above her head, nodding vigorously.
She brings her hands back to the original distance, shakes her head one more time, crosses her arms and then dramatically closes her eyes.
It takes all of three seconds before the mime peeps one eye open, leans forward, and begins to drool.
You finally sit back down in your chair. As you do, however, you feel your thighs press your nuts into your chair.
You freeze
You almost accidentally sat on your nuts and crushed them. Been a while since that last happened.
You reach down to scoop the testes out of the way, but are met with two hefty tennis balls.
Weighty and warm in the embrace of your palm. You're almost too scared to look with your eyes.
You instead check on the stream real quick. The mime is nodding her head.
Your cock twitches.
You glance down.
That... thing..... that isn't your cock. Well it is... but...... it's fucking huge.
Like as long as your forearm, huge.
And it feels... it feels like the air itself is going to cause your sensitive, recently-enhanced equipment to go off again.
You look back at the stream.
She isn't nodding.
She's bobbing her head up and down on a cock while attempting to swallow its length.
You can actually see her throat bulging out as whenever she leans forward.
Chat is just egging her on. Begging her to take their cocks deeper down her throat.
She holds up a hand. Three fingers extended. She closes one.
Two fingers left.
Closes another.
One more remaining.
When her fist closes, she leans all the way into the camera, leaving only just the top of her hair and her cute little beret in view.
Your nuts clench. Hard.
Cum paints the underside of your desk for several seconds. The mime starts shaking, visibly, but doesn't let up.
Your cock continues to spasm, orgasm not even beginning to wane.
Her hand taps against the camera lense.
Eventually, you finish. Half a second later, she begins to slowly back away, mouth stretched exceptionally wide.
She keeps backing away.
Further.
And further.
As she does, your cock rises into view, in the space between you and your monitor.
Finally, she reels back, dramatically catching her breath, while her hands maintain a steady grip on a wide object.
Presumably, cock.
You don't need to try and compare measurements. You're already sure your beast is now just as thick as the invisible monster on the stream.
Some people in chat are begging for more. Begging to grow even bigger.
She silently coughs, before wiping non-existent tears from her eyes. Her makeup still immaculate, not a single millimeter of paint smudged or out of place.
She tilts the camera upward, before stepping out of frame.
Bare footsteps quietly tap one at a time.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She shows up in frame.
Tap.
She stands a bit higher up.
Tap.
She's climbed even higher, still.
Tap.
She now stands directly above the camera.
It is only now you notice the mime was never wearing any pants or underwear. Just socks and her nude, painted ass swaying in the open air. You couldn't see from the frontward angle, but from below, you see her velvet folds starkly against the rest of her crotch, smoothly shaven and painted in clown-white.
Her mound is exceptionally plump and glistening.
Her legs spread, slightly, as does her flower. Very real pussy juices drip down toward the lens. She couldn't fake that, like with her tears, it seems.
She straddles her invisible mount, resting atop it with the fullness of her weight.
The camera, and all the viewers of the stream, can see straight into her yawning cunt. Her lips spread wider as her vaginal entrance dilates by several inches.
Not nearly enough to take the invisible meat pillar.
You feel the pressure of her full weight on the tip of your cock. You want need to fully penetrate the mime, to spear her lithe frame with your meat and pump her full of hot sperm-rich semen. But all you can do is stare at her through the stream.
The mime pulls out a large black square, from out of frame.
She holds it in one hand, blocking direct view of her pussy and thighs. With her other hand, she, again, holds up three fingers.
Counting down from 3.... 2.... 1....
She tosses the square away. Her pussy... no, more accurately, the hungry maw that was her pussy easily envolopes the invisible cock-head.
She's doing her best to grip the sides of the phantom phallus with the soles of her painted feet, but her incredibly well-lubricated entrance continues to slip down.
You can see every inch of her nerve dense flesh as it lowers down closer and closer to the camera. Several feet of bright pink flesh held open, but not at all stretched, by her transparent mount.
You FEEL when she bottoms out. The phantom wet slap of a mass of well lubricated flesh that could easily dwarf your whole body.
You can no longer see the mime.
The only thing you and the rest of the viewers can see right now is a red pulsating mass of flesh.
You then you feel her squeezing you, while her vaginal walls pull inward on stream.
She squeezes her mount again.
And again.
And again.
The mime is trying to milk you and every other viewer until anyone watching the stream becomes some sort of building-sized cock and balls that exist for the sole purpose of please and stretch out mime pussy.
And you're going to let her do that to you. You could turn off the stream and walk away. But you know you won't.
She pulls herself up using an invisible rope before slamming back down, hard. You see her womb distending her belly just before her cunt blocks your view.
You aren't her captive, of course. You very well could close out of your browser before she makes your balls so heavy they immobilize you even when you're spent and empty.
But you still can't leave.
Your cock won't let you.
More accurately, your nuts won't let you.
You're a captive to your own overfull cum factories. A slave to their need. You'll do exactly what they want you to do. You'll give in to the mime, completely. Even if your bloated testes will only get more productive and more demanding of release.
"Release"
Release is exactly what you are experiencing right this moment.
Nutsludge arcs through the air, over your monitor, and slaps, loudly, against the wall behind your desk. Heavy splatters of spent spooge send backsplash flying toward you — most of which gets blocked by the telephone pole of a cock in front of you.
This time you can very much feel your sex swelling. Surging with growth. Your nuts press into the floor and rapidly fill the space under your desk, lifting it up, outright.
Your cock rises higher and higher, pressing into the ceiling as your orgasm peaks. Your seed rains down from above, coating you in white, much the same as the mime, herself.
You can't see her stream, anymore, past her cock. Not that it matters, your nuts ripped your setup's surge-protector from the wall.
No longer tethered to the mime through the stream, your orgasm quickly dies down and the growth stops.
You're panting. Catching you're breath. You find with enough effort you could still consider yourself barely mobile — dragging your sensitive nuts across the room just to see. Your cock smears cum and, now, pre across the ceiling.
Fitting through the door may be a little difficult and public decency is off the table.
But you could still live your life, possibly with the help of some form of custom mobility aid. It wouldn't be a "normal" life, but it would be your own, and not one spent dedicating yourself to pleasuring a mime you'll never meet in person.
Your phone buzzes. You're right next to where you tossed your pants, earlier.
You retrieve your device.
The notification is just a wave emoji. A colorless one.
No.
Not colorless - White, like a glove.
Clicking the notification opens a page on Bluesky. The mime's page, of course.
You don't recall following them... you don't even have notifications enabled for Bluesky.
The post finally loads.
A link to her stream on a third party site, after having been banned from twitch. The stream is free for all to access, of course.
Your finger hovers over the home button.
But then you notice the attached photo, peeking out at the bottom of your screen. You slide your thumb up, bringing the photo in view.
It's her, stretched even wider than when you left the stream. Wider than the room you're standing in, probably. No... not stretched..... gaping open, without anything inserted whatsoever, invisible or not.
Your finger hovers over the link to the streaming site.
---
I didn't actually want to go out of my way to write the fem perspective of this story, but let's just say that pussy havers grew in tandem with the mime.
I had a lot of fun with this one. A whole lot. As much as I love clowns... I find mimes even hotter a lot of the time.
If only there was something that bridged the gap between mime, clown, and jester... like.... a Pierrot. Oh how delightful they are.
A nosy little journalist tries to prove that this hucow farm isn’t above board…and ends up hooked up to the same machines made illegal for their rate of production.
You’d think the dairy industry couldn’t get enough, but even hucows have human rights, and this device destroys their brain to the point they can only moo! Nothing but a pair of udders, constantly shuddering through a climax, all higher function left to atrophy.
Kiss that career-making report goodbye!
Inside the headset, Rhea was under attack.
A cacophony of moans and mooing and slapping of skin against skin filled her ears. Faster than she could consciously follow, images flashed in front of her eyes: spirals and pictures of women with gigantic breasts and words that disappeared before she could read them but were already lodged deep within her mind.
The cocktail of hormones that the rig had forced on her slammed through her veins, pushed to every inch of her body by her racing heart. Her senses heightened. The sound blasting in her ears became a symphony, with parts going in and out of harmony to reach as deep into her brain as possible. Her vision sharpened, letting her see everything so much more clearly as the hucow porn and fleeting instructions burned into the back of her eyes.
Her sensitivity to touch rose and, with it, her overwhelming pleasure.
Every wobble, every jiggle, every slosh of her growing breasts shot through her body, making her tremble and making her breasts move even more. She could feel her individual milk ducts opening up, preparing themselves for making milk, preparing themselves for a life as livestock. The suction cups tugging on her nipples basted away at her mind. This wasn't a slow erosion, a smoothing over millennia, but outright destruction. Every last synapse of her brain activated, growing hotter and brighter until, one by one, they burnt out.
Pleasure rotted her brain from the inside out. Memories of a former life disappeared. All the things that had made Rhea who she was vanished under the immense weight of the sensations being forced through her. Within moments, years—decades of her life were simply gone. By the time the serum was done with her, she wouldn't remember her name. She wouldn't remember more than five minutes into the past. All that would be left were the most basic functions for sustaining life. Everything more abstract than that was functionally gone, leaving her acting on pure instinct. Like an animal. Like a cow. She would know when she was hungry, when she was thirsty, when she was horny, and when she was full. Nothing else was necessary and so it had to go.
She could almost feel what was left of her identity melting away and moving to her tits, filling them with milk before being sucked away by the cups tugging on her nipples. Her body relaxed. She gave up fighting against the restraints. Her jaw released and her tongue lolled out. The machine was more than effective. In a matter of minutes, Rhea was a cow and nothing more. Not a person, certainly not a journalist. Just a cow.
------------------------------------------
Between the hiss of the industrial pumps sucking away at the Rhea's nipples and the moaning from the journalist herself, Tobias had to should to be heard. "What the hell was that for, Dad?!"
Peter Dawson, of Dawson Family Farms, did his best to hide the rush of adrenaline that was coursing through his body. As casually as he could, he brushed a bit of dirt off of his overalls. "It had to be done. Had to be done. Her story gets out and we're done. The work of four generations just... poof! At the stroke of a pen. When I'm gone and you're running this place, you'll understand."
As sure as Pete sounded, Tobias wasn't so confident. He winced at the sight of Rhea's body as it sat limp in the restraints, only trembling slightly at a jolt of pleasure every now and then. His eyes dropped down where her udders had grown in and were still growing, expanding and swelling and getting heavier by the minute. He was glad her eyes were hidden by the headset that had snapped over her face. "Someone's gonna find out. Then it'll be even worse. They'll know. Everyone will know."
His dad reached out and gently stroked the hair on top of the newly minted cow's head. "Nah, nothing to worry about. Accidents happen all the time. That's all this was. An accident." He gave his son a pointed look, refusing to blink until he felt his message had been heard. Looking back at the former journalist, he gave a wry chuckle. "Besides, who's she gonna tell?"
One of my absolute favourite has to be secretly slipping extra calories into someone's food, especially if they're trying to diet.
Swapping their protein shakes for indulgent chocolate milkshakes, their diet sodas for regular. Stirring weight gain powder into the batch of 'healthy flapjacks' I'm baking.
Encouraging them to have a few cheat days every week, and to eat way more than they usually would to 'get it out of their system'. Serving huge portions at dinner time, and telling them to eat up so they don't get hungry and snack later (but make sure they're surrounded by tasty snacks at all times, just in case.)
Couple that with always rewarding and praising them for eating well, and fucking them senseless when their belly is tightly packed, until they crave stuffing themselves with a visceral need they don't really understand.
Then one day, dropping the act. Putting them in front of the mirror and grabbing a fat handful of flab to jiggle. Making them confront how far they let things get without putting up the slightest bit of resistance. Helping them realise there's no point trying anymore, that they're always going to be my desperate, greedy piglet. Then prdering them to their knees and hand feeding them until they pant with the heavy weight of their gut.
Hey boss. I'm in a bit of a predicament. I'm living on my own for the first time, and I share my apartment with a roommate.
Now, that's not too bad. Lots of guys have roommates. But I doubt they're roommates with the hottest woman they've ever seen in their life.
Like, words cannot begin to describe her. She's got tits bigger than her head, an ass that seems to bend space, and legs that could turn a monk into a drooling mess.
Basically, she's super duper hot.
And again, most guys wouldn't see the issue in that. But they've never had to deal with every argument, disagreement, discussion, etc, ending in a wiggle of tit-flesh and me folding instantly.
I literally can't say no to her when she does that. I don't think anyone can.
What am I supposed to do, GO? I've been mad to do every chore, pay just about every bill, do every whim she can come up with.
I hear you, man. That's a tough situation. Most people, they'd tell you to stand up for yourself, to stop being such a pathetic loser gooner and resist her jiggling and sloshing pornmelons for five fucking seconds. They'd tell you that, if you have an open and honest conversation with her, one that doesn't end in you running back to your bedroom to try and get your fist pregnant, it'll all work out.
And I just want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that they're all wrong.
This kind of thing, standing up for yourself would only encourage her! Saying "H-hey, um, m-maybe don't flash your big, bouncy titties at m-me when I'm trying to t-talk to you!" is only going to make things worse! She'll start walking around the apartment topless, or as close to it as she has to, in order to make sure you never try to resist her again! She already knows she can break you—can't put that lotion back in the bottle—so she'll just keep going until she breaks you again.
If you really want to get control of this situation, there's only one thing you can do: fight fire with fire.
You go out there and you get yourself the biggest fucking tits you can. Implants or growth pills or bovine hormones, whatever it takes to give you gigantic titties to rival hers. I'm talking mega hyper stuffed up milkers. I'm talking jumbo jiggly juicy jugs. I'm talking sweater-stretching, gravity-welling, bra-busting tits!
The first benefit is that your new tits will act as a sort of immunization against hers. When you're too busy not getting distracted by your own cleavage, by the feeling of your own tits bouncing directly under your chin, how can you even think about being distracted by hers? If you can go even bigger than her, all the better, as it'll make hers seem smaller by comparison, thereby robbing them of their power. Once her advantage is weakened and, eventually, removed entirely, that's when you can stage your counteroffensive.
After all, everyone loves boobs.
When she starts to fall on her old tactics, that's when you yawn and stretch your back, pushing your massive titties forward so she can see them bulge over the cups and under the band and whenever else they can find room. If she shows you her cleavage, you show her yours. If she tries to jiggle them in your face, you jiggle yours right back! If she tries to press her big, soft boobies against you, you lean into her, keeping eye contact as your own udders squish against her. Her breathing catches. You blush. Your faces are so close to each other and, as your tits squish together, you can feel each other's racing heartbeat. Neither of you seems ready to make the first move and yet, inch by inch, the space between your lips disappears until—
Ahem. Anyway. Worst case scenario, you both keep trying to outdo and outsize each other. Best case scenario, you make out sloppy style while groping each other and rubbing your oiled up titties together. Wins all around.
vaporwave
izzy806
snowghoul
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
