widenmyhips roleplays

any kicks from the babies yet? yes!! just a little. very lucky to feel enough not to worry but not too much to be distracted, *yet*

go to pregnancy outfit? sweats that barely fit me and a work t-shirt I stole from my Dom 🤭🤭 no undies because they don’t fit, and only a sports bra

oooh ooh oooh

🍔 my biggest pregnancy craving?? oreos 🤤🤤 before I was a casual enjoyer and really only of double stuffed but now I keep at least one box of each kind on hand at all times for snacking. I’m obsessed

🥒 my weirdest food combo was probably cream cheese on ritz crackers with peanut butter. not TOO weird but not a usual snack either, lol

🎉 most excited for after giving birth? holding my little babies in my arms!!

the way he’ll look at something, take a spoonful of it with such care, and put it to my lips. rarely ever forcing, just…offering. encouraging. following up with the sweetest praise i’ve ever heard, so i’m drooling for more of both - the food and his words. he gives both so tenderly.

even as my body has grown, the way he touches it can’t help but inspire such awe and wonder, his fingertips gliding over the new, soft fat.

it would be easier if I hated it all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I do hate it, most of time. But I also really like it.

The food, of course, can be really good, when it’s not constant greasy fast food fare. I’ve had a sweet tooth for as long as I can remember, and now he buys me boxes of Sees Candies that used to last me months, now to be eaten in a couple days. And I’ve always hated working. I have an overactive mind that he does need to keep busy, but waking up early, following directions, keeping a schedule, I hated that. Now I get to sleep whenever and for however long I want.

But the thing I like the most is his attention. A constant drip, reliable as the sunset and sunrise. I love it. Love the way he talks to me, takes care of all of my needs, dotes on me so lovingly. He’s so thorough in the way he plans for me, takes care of me, makes decisions for me, that sometimes I forget I could do that by myself. It’s just easier to give it up. He chooses what I eat, when I exercise (I don’t), how much food is too much food. He chooses what I order, when my clothes are officially too tight, when it’s time for us to go home so I don’t waste a single calorie too much.

it seems like it takes me longer and longer to get uncomfortable with him making all my decisions for me.

i think i look ridiculous, my potbelly stuck out in front of me like i’m arching my back. it enters the room before i do. my round (formerly little) beer belly. it’s jiggly. it’s so fucking round, i can’t stand it.

I can’t even tell you what he’s done to me.

it’s gotten so much worse. He doesn’t even let me see the measurements anymore, so I have to look at myself in the mirror and guess. He says he likes it better that way.

But I can see it. I think anyone could see it. My stomach is round. Like I’m pregnant, but only if it wasn’t so soft. He tells me it’s like the world’s finest pillow, buttery soft. All I can feel is how heavy it is. When I look down I can see it, but it’s mostly blocked by my tits, filling up my vision. They’re soft, but flabby, sagging even more than before. And my chin…chins don’t help. I didn’t realize that you could change your face so rapidly, I thought faces fattened slowly. But mine is positively cherubic, and I’ve only been here…3 months? 4?

It would be so much easier if the feedings weren’t so heavenly. Most of the time. But I can’t get into that tonight, my fingers are getting tired from all the typing.

i’m getting fatter.

i looked at myself in the mirror today, and for the first time, i couldn’t deny it. it isn’t just water weight, or bloating, or the cut of my jeans. it’s fat.

when i signed on to this contract, to stay in the apartment for free, and possibly have my student loans paid off, i thought it was because my Master wanted a live in BDSM sub, something like Fifty Shades of Grey. the clause about controlling my food, i reasoned, was just so he could keep me in shape, order for me at restaurants.

looking at myself now, i still can’t believe the truth. that he’s keeping me as his pet to purposefully fatten me up.

oh god. he doesn’t have a private chef, never found the reason to need a stranger poking around in his kitchen, especially when he’s such a good cook himself. he asked me for all of my favorite dishes, just so i would finish them, even if the portion sizes were enormous. the snacks didn’t help either, when he sent me out to do the shopping, an extra $50 in my pocket just for me to buy whatever i wanted that wasn’t on the list. once he found out my weakness for soda, he refused to let me buy anything else to drink. besides alcohol, of course. the mini bar is kept well stocked, but he likes when i have beer.

and now…fuck, now i’m seeing why. my belly was soft before but now it has weight. it’s pushing out from my shirt, and i can even see the divot of my belly button. my thighs are chafed red, not used to rubbing together this much. and is that…oh god, my chin. my chins. god, fuck. i’m gonna cry. i gotta go.